#I keep trying to tell myself to give it a few days and maybe I’ll get used to it and like them better

[raeathnos]

.

[ningvory]

yaaaayyy congrats on hitting 2k this is big!!! <3 <3

I was thinking maybe we could get a massage parlor AU with pervy mausseuse!julie being obsessed with her new client's ass to the point where she can't keep her fingers to herself and decided to give reader's ass a "deep tissue massage". So some dubcon and anal but feel free to add other things too! <3

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 1,383 words • 2k event

a/n: anon this has gagged me..and i was lowkey feeling like reader with the major back problems..might need to go to a massage parlor myself..

CW: dubcon, g!p julie, ass play, anal, degrading, readers first time with anal, julie takes advantage of how oblivious reader is, belle is readers cowokers and recommends it to her, not proofread!

your back has been killing you for what seemed like forever, and being hunched over looking at a computer screen for over five hours doesn’t help you one bit. it’s probably the reason why your back is in the state it it.

normally you don’t have such an awful posture but it’s almost physically impossible to keep a straight posture the whole day. then you only have a thirty minute lunch break and a fifteen minute break.

“y/n~ fix your posture!” the voice of your coworker, anabelle pulled you away from the screen on your computer. when her words finally registered into your head, you slowly fixed your posture.

“it’s just so hard to keep a good posture, my lower back is killing me..” you mumbled, trying to ignore the pain from your back.

“luckily for you, i know someone who works at that new massage parlor down the street from our apartment area!” anabelle quietly squealed, almost like she’s been dying to tell you this information.

before you could even ask her anything she answered your questions almost immediately, “her names julie, she’s a few years older than us. i’ll book your appointment and text her that you know me!” she smiled before dragging a guest chair to the side of your chair.

she pulled the booking website up, doing all the work for you like shes worked at a massage parlor before, only letting you pick your favorite oils and candles for you. “done! your deep tissue massage is booked for 6:30 pm today, i got you the deluxe package so don’t forget to remove every single clothing, including your panties~” anabelle smiled your way, it was currently 6:00 pm, exactly an hour away from the time so you and anabelle began to pack up your things.

“you must be y/n, right? you’re our last client of the day!” the woman asked, you confirmed her assumption with a meek ‘yes’.’ “i can tell this is your first time at a massage parlor so i’ll guide you where you need to go.” the receptionist came from behind the counter to lead you the way.

“you must be y/n, right? you’re our last client of the day!” the woman asked, you confirmed her assumption with a meek ‘yes’.’ “i can tell this is your first time at a massage parlor so i’ll guide you where you need to go.” the receptionist came from behind the counter to lead you the way.

“you must be y/n, right? you’re our last client of the day!” the woman asked, you confirmed her assumption with a meek ‘yes’.’ “i can tell this is your first time at a massage parlor so i’ll guide you where you need to go.” the receptionist came from behind the counter to lead you the way.

she stopped in front of the changing rooms, “here’s your white and gold robe that come with the deluxe package, along with matching slippers.” she handed you it, allowing you to change in it.

once you got in the changing room, you stripped all your clothes, placing it in the bag your brought. you silently thank yourself for carrying extra clothes in your trunk in case of an emergency. you were slightly nervous, you’ve seen the videos of their hands going all over the client’s body and the noises that unexpectedly come out.

you opened the door, handing her the bag with your clothes and letting her lead the way to the room which was right around the corner, “ms. julie is already waiting for you in there. enjoy!” she lady said walking off, giving you a small smile.

you opened the door, to see julie sitting in her chair scrolling on her phone until she heard the door close, eyes falling on you and smiling. “ahh you must be y/n~ i’m julie.” she smiled at you, extending her hand for you to take. her personality relaxing you quickly.

“hey nice to meet you!“ you smiled, shaking her hand, “first time here?” she asked, noticing your nervousness, removing your robe for you and sitting you down on the table. “yeah” you said breathily, your nipples began to harden from being exposed to the atmosphere. you didn’t noticed her smirk when she took a look at your ass, “don’t worry~ and just relax..” she dragged the work out.

she began to set up the oils and candles, the ones you preferred. she grabbed the remote to the flatscreen tv in the room and played her shuffle of music to make thing less awkward for you. she instructed for you to lay down on your tummy and place your head in the hole before adjusting it to fit your body height just right.

she started warming your body up, placing the oils on your body, gently loosening you up, pulling a small moan from your mouth. “breathe, baby” she reminded you, guiding your breaths with her own. she quickly finds the tense spots, getting rid of them almost instantly, dragging out whimpers that just go straight to her cock! it didn’t help that your ass was just on full display for her and your whines makes it worse :(

when she gets to your lower back, just above your ass, she get a little rougher, massaging the most tense spot of your back, pulling out small moans. her hands slowly cups your ass cheeks, softly squeezing them in her hands and spreading them wide, revealing your cunt and asshole to her. “julie? is..is this apart of the massage?” you gasp, fighting the urge to moan. “of course, why wouldn’t it be? i’m a professional ‘ya know.” she bites her lip, responding to you.

“ah~ sorry” you replied, deadpanning yourself for asking something stupid, why would it not be apart of the massage? “no worries, sweetheart, now..tell me how this feels..” she interns her oil covered finger into your ass, earning a loud whine from you before swiftly slapping a hand to your mouth. “f-feels good..” you whine, the new sensation flooding your system.

you heard her pants unzip and her boxers fall to the ground, and that’s when you figured this probably wasn’t apart of the message, but your body felt so relaxed after she worked her magic and she was attractive. “don’t scream.” she warns your before pushing her thick cock into your ass, rendering you speechless, your eyes were closed tight trying to adapt to the stretch.

“so oblivious..it’s cute..” she grunts, pulling her cock all the way out just to plunge right back into your tight ass, you couldn’t find it in you to form a sentence, strangled moans just spilled out of your mouth.

“answer, slut.” she smacks your ass, making a loud moan come out of your mouth. the rooms were actually soundproof but she thinks it’s cute how hard you try to keep quiet. “y-yea..sorry” you reply, not really sure of what she even said.

she finds a steady pace, making you slide up and down on her table from the force of her thrust. “m-more please..” you beg and she smiles behind you before her hand found your hips and began ponding into you with her other hand toying with your clit, making you squirm under her touch.

after a few more thrusts and her degration, you felt something unfamiliar bubbling in your tummy, “julie.. i think i have to pee?” you questioned, not even sure yourself what this feeling was.

she giggled at your words, “silly baby, you’re about to squirt.” she explained, rubbing your clit quicker, as you thrash around on the table, back arching deeper into the table as you squirt all over her, legs shaking under her.

“fuck!” julie whines, shooting her thick spurts of cum into your used ass. “your appointment is all done!” she chuckles, pulling her spent cock out of you and zipping her pants up, and helping you get situated.

“should we schedule your next appointment? from now on my services will be free!” she winks, washing her hands off at the sink in the room. “uh huh..” you breathe out, still trying to collect yourself after that orgasm. “see you soon then!” she slips a paper with her phone number on it in your bag, and bids you goodbye for now.

you looked down and read the paper,

‘need to fill your other holes up too.. call me! <3’

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Changed Future (2) | Yandere Isekai

Part 1

It’s so irritating for Haruko 

He remembers how he used to try and make noise in the beginning, when the same thing happened to him

But even without your struggling, he’s got more obstacles than he thought

“Tch all these guys getting in our way, maybe I should just kill them.”

“Haru no!”

“Why not, I'm sure you did it when I was trapped.”

“That…that doesn’t make it right!”

“So? Who cares about right when we’re in love? I think it was you who said that.”

Either way with or without your approval he’s figuring out a way to take down his newfound rivals

He kind of hopes they are as ambitious as the friends who recently abandoned him

Too bad they aren’t

In the original story, the crazy thing about the protagonist was that despite their obsessive love for Haruko and general disregard for those who got in the way of that was otherwise really inspiring

Breaking away from their elitist family for their violent morals ironic right

Joining the workforce, easily rising because of their work ethic and intelligence

And all that while beautifully evading a less-than-clean detective trying to pin the blame of random crimes on them

Which of course got them their own male leads attempting to pursue their affections

Always doomed to fall short because of circumstance or the protagonist suavely crushing their hopes to gush about their love

It was a uniquely terrible tragedy for their characters to be written this way

That’s what the random reviewers would say

Which is why you did feel inclined to maybe entertain them a bit more than the original protagonist would have ever done

“Since you are quitting….I hope you’ll let me treat you to dinner. For all your hard work of course.”

“Uh sure but I have to be home by sunset.”

“That’s a shame then we’ll have to—Wait. Did you say you would?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“YES! Ahem I mean yes I’m fine! I look forward to a nice evening together!”

Unknowingly furthering the obsession the protagonist was barely keeping at bay

“So mind telling me what you ordered that day at the restaurant?”

“I think it was my favorite dish there called the berry delight but I’m not sure. I think they changed the menu since I was there.”

“Why not confirm it later today? That way you can tell me if you did see the missing classmate of yours.”

“But I don’t remember exactly where I sat–”

“Then we’ll just have to sit in every spot until it rings a bell.”

“I don’t know if that’s–”

“Don’t fret. I’ll be paying but there's no way we’ll get to try every table. We’ll have to come back multiple times.”

“Okay…”

“No worries I’m sure you’ll get tired of eating there so we’ll go to some other places to give you a rest. Anywhere you wanted to try?”

You’d be foolish to think you could escape them by agreeing to Haruko’s entrapping of you 

It only takes a day of you not responding to messages that they both eagerly awaiting you at your door

And after the first few times, Haruko shooing them away they begin to get resourceful

“Yeah bud nice try their still out.”

“Hm well say that to my lovely warrant right here.”

“Wait! H-h-hold on! Geez I-i’ll go get them now but they are not going to be happy with you!”

It really doesn’t get better as the guard against the protagonist’s secrets begins to be let down as interested parties slowly make their way in

You don’t have the same ruthlessness or ability to deceive as the protagonist you took over for 

On top of that you never actually read the webtoon so you’ll be left trying to piece together whatever few weak points the protag has

Where if you hadn’t already started to make your pursuers interested all those faults are fuel for their agenda

“It’s so unfortunate that the company can sign off on your absence during this suspicious crime but I don’t mind editing records if you wouldn’t mind spending time with me. That way I can vet your personality myself. Over wine of course!”

It’s overwhelming constantly being pulled in 3 directions 

What’s worse you’re completely oblivious when the latest obstacle in the protag’s perfect life finally makes themselves known

“Hello darling, it took us years to find you but we did it!”

“Don’t look like that come give your Mama a hug!”

Part 3: Coming Soon

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

P.S. Do You Still Love Me| Pt3

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒConclusion: Can we fix this? ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

Morning light couldn’t even filter through the curtains they were drawn so tightly. The only reason you woke was the slamming of the front door. You laid in bed for a few minutes, amounting the slamming to Minho, as Jisung tended to be a bit softer closing the doors ever since you once told him he would find a way to break a door one day. 

There was always little things you told him that he took into consideration. Little things that didn’t even really need to be fixed. But things he wanted to change for the sake of being perfect for you.

Maybe thats why…you thought

But you didn’t want perfect. 

You wanted Jisung.

Your head throbbed as you stirred, vaguely aware of the scent of Jisung lingering on the pillow beneath you. You squinted, trying to better piece together the fragments of last night, but the fog in your mind was heavy.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed,you spotted your phone on the nightstand. 

You wondered when someone had found the time to retrieve it, but you didn’t mull over it too much. Swiping away the notifications on your phone. Apology after apology from the one who had kissed you. A few messages from your friends, and then a message from Jisung.

I had to head to the studio. There is some hangover stew Minho hyung prepared for you if you like. And some orange juice in the fridge as well.  

You sighed as your finger hovered over the messages for a moment. 

Another message popped through. 

I’ll see you later, Y/N-ie. Rest up, please. I’ll be home soon.I asked Hyung for a half-day :/

Damn you Han Jisung. You thought as you held your hand to your chest. How could he be so considerate yet so infuriating at the same time. 

You looked around for a pair of slippers, and realized the ones Jisung had gotten you a while ago were slightly under the bed. You got down to grab them, but your hand nudged against a small box tucked beneath the frame. Curious, you reached further and pulled it out. 

It was plain, a little scuffed around the edges, with a lid that felt oddly heavy in your hands.

Inside, there were letters; neatly stacked, each one addressed to you.

Your heart skipped.

You hesitated, knowing that you weren’t meant to see these, but giving into the temptation of opening them. 

The first one was dated the day Jisung had broken things off with you. 

Hesitantly, you unfolded it, his familiar handwriting staring back at you. The crinkle of paper doing little to ground you in the moment.

The words were a bit smeared, obviously spread from the wetness of tears. The pattern showed he had spilled many.

Y/N, I know I hurt you today. I hurt myself too. I don’t even know if this is the right thing to do, but I felt like I couldn’t hold on to you while I was so lost in myself. You deserve so much better than that, better than me. But even now, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Jisung P.S. Do you still love me?

Your hands trembled as you unfolded the second letter, heart pounding in your chest.

Y/N, It’s been two weeks, and I still can’t stop thinking about the way your face crumpled when I said it was over. I didn’t want to hurt you- I never did. But I thought… maybe if I let you go, you could find someone who wouldn’t make you feel like you were always waiting on me. The truth? I wasn’t brave enough to face my fears. I wasn’t brave enough to tell you how much I needed you, even when I was falling apart. I was afraid that if I told you I was growing dependent, than you’d want to leave. Was that selfish of me? I wish I was more selfish. Selfish enough to keep you by my side, regardless of how you felt- or how I thought you felt. Because I was happy. And I like to think you were happy too. If I was selfish enough, maybe I could have gotten rid of my fear of being too undeserving. If I was selfish enough I could trick myself into not caring.  I wish I hadn’t cared.  I miss your laugh. I miss the way you’d throw a pillow at me when I teased you too much.  I miss you, Y/N. Every single day. Jisung P.S. Do you still love me?

Before you even finished the second letter you were already reaching for the third. 

And soon enough you were on the seventh letter.

Y/N, It’s been a month now, and I keep asking myself if I made the biggest mistake of my life. I can’t get your smile out of my head, no matter how hard I try. I thought I was doing the right thing- giving you space, giving you freedom. I thought I was being a hero, letting you go to find someone to make you happier. But all I did was rip my own heart out in the process. I don’t want you to be happy with someone else. I want you to be happy with me. I saw your favorite coffee shop today. I almost went in, hoping you’d be there. But what would I even say? Would you even want to see me? I don’t think I deserve your love anymore, but if there’s even the smallest chance you still feel something for me I’d jump at it. Regardless of any consequences. Jisung P.S. Do you still love me?

Then soon enough you were on the tenth, eleventh, twelfth. So many letters you almost lost count. But it was the last one that struck you the most. A letter Jisung had seemingly written the night before.

Y/N, You’re asleep right now. You’re curled up in my bed, wrapped in my hoodie like it’s some kind of armor, and my pillow’s soaked in tears you probably don’t even remember crying. You always did this thing where you hugged your pillow when you were upset, like it could shield you from the world. I hate that I’m the one who made you feel like you needed it. I don’t even know where to start, because there’s so much I want to say- so much I’ve held back for far too long. I thought leaving you was the right thing to do. I thought that by walking away, I was sparing you from…well, from me. But I was wrong. God, I was so wrong. When you looked at me tonight, your eyes full of hurt and confusion, it felt like someone had taken every piece of me and smashed it all over again. And then you said it. ‘I thought I did something wrong…’ You have no idea what those words did to me. You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N. You never did. I left because I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was saving you from the storm that comes with being near me. But I never stopped to think about how selfish that was. I thought it was selfish to want you, but time has made me realize it was selfish of me to do all that I’ve done. I didn’t ask if you wanted saving. I didn’t ask if you wanted to face that storm with me. I didn’t ask your feelings on anything. That was wrong and selfish. So very much so.  I hurt you, and in doing so, I hurt myself even worse. Every day since I left has been empty- like I’ve been living in black and white while you were the color in my world. I didn’t just walk away from you; It’s like I’ve been walking through my life wearing blinders ever since I let you go. I see the world, but it doesn’t feel real. Food doesn’t taste the same. Music doesn’t sound as good. Even the things I used to love feel hollow because you’re not there to share them with me. I find pieces of you everywhere. In the songs we used to listen to on repeat, in the shops we always went to, in the way the sunlight hits the sidewalk on those rare quiet mornings when the world feels like it’s holding its breath. It’s ridiculous, really- how you’re still everywhere, even though you’re nowhere near me. I try to pretend I’m okay. I smile for the cameras, laugh with the guys, and act like I’ve got it all together, but it’s just that- an act. Every time I hear someone call my name, I wish it was your voice. Every time my phone buzzes, I hope it’s you, even though I know better.

You swallowed, hands shaking.

Do you know how many times I almost called you? How many times I wrote out a message, only to delete it because I thought you’d moved on, or worse—that you hated me? I’ve kept every letter I wrote to you, every unsent apology, every unspoken word, because I couldn’t bear to throw them away. I walked away from my own happiness, from the person who made me feel like I could be enough. And now here you are. In my bed. Looking so small, so fragile, and all I can think about is how much I want to fix this. I want to fix us. Tonight, you called me a squirrel. Do you know how ridiculous that is? But somehow, even in your drunken haze, you managed to ask the one question I’ve been too afraid to answer for myself: Do I get lonely? Do I miss you like you miss me? The answer is yes. God, yes. I’ve never stopped being lonely since the moment I walked away. I’m so lonely without you that it feels like I’m suffocating. I miss you more than I have words for. I miss your smile, your warmth, your everything. I miss you in a way that’s so deep it’s become a part of me, and I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without you. You were always my safe place, Y/N. The person I could run to when the world felt too big, too overwhelming.  Do you remember the night we sat on the rooftop and you told me no matter how heavy my heart felt, I had people by my side who could help me handle it, and you held my hand while I cried. I don’t think I ever told you how much that meant to me. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I never told you enough. I didn’t tell you how much I loved the way you’d scrunch your nose when you were concentrating or how you always danced in the kitchen, even if there wasn’t any music.  I didn’t tell you how your laugh felt like the first day of spring after a long, bitter winter. I didn’t tell you that you were the one who made me feel like I wasn’t just enough, but more than enough.

You sniffed, trying hard to blink away your tears to no avail, before continuing.

I’ve thought about what I’d say to you if I could do it all over again. If I could rewind time to that moment where I made the biggest mistake of my life; I’d tell you the truth instead of running away. I’d tell you that I wasn’t leaving because of you; I was leaving because I didn’t feel good enough for you. I didn’t feel like I deserved someone as bright, as kind, as endlessly loving as you. I was scared, Y/N. Scared of dragging you down with me. Scared that my flaws, my insecurities, and all the baggage I carry would crush you. I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go, by giving you the chance to find someone better- someone who could love you the way you deserve to be loved. But I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. I see that now, and I hate myself for being so blind.  Because the truth is, no one could ever love you the way I do. It might sound egotistic to say but its the truth. No one could ever know you the way I do, with all your little quirks and habits that make you so…you.  No one could ever feel what I feel for you. They couldn’t even come close. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this time apart, it’s that love doesn’t go away just because you’re scared. It doesn’t fade just because you run from it.  Rather, It stays. It grows. It becomes a part of you, even when you think you don’t deserve it. And I love you, Y/N. I love you so much that it terrifies me, because I know what it means. It means that no matter where I go, no matter what I do, my heart will always be with you. It means that even if you tell me you don’t love me anymore, I’ll still love you. So I guess it won’t hurt to write once more. I love you. Jisung P.S. Do you still love me?

You sat frozen, the crumpled letter trembling in your hands as Jisung’s words crashed over you like a wave, pulling you under. Every sentence struck like a raw nerve, unraveling the walls you had built brick by brick to keep the pain at bay. Tears blurred your vision, dripping onto the paper as if your heart was spilling out along with them. You had wanted this, dreamed of this—of him finally saying the words you’d been desperate to hear. But now that they were in your hands, they felt too heavy, too full of everything you hadn’t let yourself feel in so long.

Your hands shook as you placed the letter on his desk, scanning the room for something—anything—to channel the emotions surging through you. The mess of his drawers caught your eye, half-open and chaotic, and before you could think, you were rifling through them, searching for a blank page and a pen. Papers and notebooks slid around under your fingers, faint traces of him clinging to the air, and for a moment, you hesitated. Did you really want to do this?

But the words were already bubbling up inside you, and you couldn’t stop them. You grabbed a sheet of paper and sat down, your hands trembling as you pressed the pen to the page. The first few lines came hesitantly, but then the floodgates opened, and everything you had been holding back poured out. You wrote with a desperation you didn’t fully understand, the scratching of the pen the only sound in the quiet room.

When you finally set the pen down, your chest felt lighter—but only just. You stared at the folded letter in your hands, running your fingers over the edge as you debated what to do next. For a brief moment, the weight of all that had passed between you felt like too much, like this might only bring more pain. But as you stood, gripping the letter tightly, a quiet determination settled over you.

You slipped the letter into your pocket, glancing back at the room one last time. Something about the stillness felt final, like you were closing a chapter, but whether it was the end or a new beginning, you couldn’t quite tell. With a deep breath, you stepped out of the room, clutching your words like a lifeline, ready to face whatever came next.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

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

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @holly-here

[inheritedbelly]

The weight of betrayal

"I'm sorry," I said, after accidentally turning all my weight onto my boyfriend while trying to get comfortable at night. My name is Tommy; I’m 22 years old… or rather, I used to be. I met my boyfriend on a dating site two years ago. When he told me he had magical abilities, I didn’t believe him. Until he proved it, right in front of me, making objects appear or change shape. After a few months of dating, I made a mistake and ended up cheating on Matt at a party. I didn’t intend to tell him, but… he’s magical, and he found out on his own. There was no way around it: he threw everything in my face, and I had no choice but to humiliate myself, begging for forgiveness. After all, I loved him. I made just one slip-up, which, in the end, came with a very high price.

"I used to be a good-looking, fit twink, everyone would stare at me, and I couldn’t help it that I was so drunk that night. Well, maybe a little bit of guilt," I thought.

“Well,” he said, “I can’t believe you had the nerve to do this to me. I don’t know if I can trust you again, but… I can make the most of this.” He grabbed one of his books and pointed his finger at me. I knew nothing good would come from this. “I’ll make sure you never betray me again. And since I like older, bigger guys… I’ll make the most of this.”

The result of this "game" is that today, here I am – a man in his 50s or 60s, old and fat. I never imagined I could be this big. Being old felt strange. I preferred lying down all day, and no one looked at me like they used to. I had no choice; Matt had said countless times that he would never undo the spell, no matter how much I insisted. All I could do was accept this new life as an old man. My back hurts, and I still haven’t gotten used to this huge belly. Being fat is a complicated experience – I sweat from the smallest effort and, all the time, I’m hungry. My deeper voice and advanced baldness give away my age.

But, when I think about it, not everything is as bad as it seems. After all, I love Matt, and someone like me – now old and fat – would hardly have another chance at a relationship. And, to my surprise, Matt seems to like it. In the afternoon, we sit on the couch, while he feeds me and strokes my belly, which has become a kind of giant cushion. At night, when we go to bed, he buries his face in my sagging chest, and at least now I fall asleep much faster than before, even though I snore loudly like a sleeping elephant. Everything feels much more affectionate than before, even though everyone thinks I'm Matt’s grandfather, not his boyfriend. And apparently, no one looks at me anymore. In fact, his exclusivity plan seems to have worked.

Although I want my old life back, I can’t deny that some things have improved, at least for Matt. He assured me that my life hasn’t been shortened – I’ll just keep this form until he also becomes an old, fat man like me. So, I guess it’s better to get used to this new appearance. After all, I kind of deserved what happened. I just wish my back didn’t hurt so much from having to carry this huge belly around…

[yanderemommabean]

for the red rooms in devildom, imagine lucifer finally deciding to give red rooms a shot when he realizes mc will soon leave devildom and/or keeps rejecting his affection

Lucifer being the avatar of pride means he can’t exactly handle rejection. Maybe a few times at first, seeing it as a way to chase and have fun and to prove himself to you and sweep you off of your feet, but after a while it really gets under his skin. 

Why? Why are you denying him? Sure he can understand being scared of him, he’s one of the most powerful demons after all, and sadly you were more than once on the wrong end of that ire and anger when you first arrived. He won’t deny that your emotions with those incidents are possibly why you wouldn’t want to be with him, but surely now you see hes trying to make amends? That he’d kiss the ground you walk on and make sure to keep you safe? 

It seems you were serious about denying and rejecting his affections. You tell everyone at dinner what a wonderful time you’ve had, and how in three days time you’re expected to leave, back to the human world, leaving them to wallow in your absence. 

Well, you won’t get away with that. He won’t let you make this mistake. He just gives a soft smile, a gentle hug, and tells you that he’ll miss you, but as you head up to bed and listen to Mammon and Levi’s blabbering and sobbing, Lucifer decides to make a rather last resort call. 

The Red Rooms. The last place he ever wanted to bring you. While they care for the darling's experience, he doesn’t want to have to force this, but you’re really leaving him no choice! 

He’ll make sure the rooms are to your tastes. Stuffed animals to cry into when overwhelmed, softer gags to be easier on your jaw, padded cuffs to make sure your delicate human skin isn’t bruised unless he decides to bruise it himself. 

The demon chuckles on the other end of the line but once they hear who’s making the call, they shut up and show respect. 

“Nothing rough. This is to prove my devotion and how I’m better than my brothers. I want only the best, the softest, the cleanest and the safest. I won’t hesitate to kill you and wring your blood into my food to devour. Do we have an understanding?” 

He goes through the list, his mind getting even more perverted than Asmo as he pictures how he’ll make you moan and whimper for him. “Oh? Well I must admit that golden hellfire newt syrup would be a nice touch but I'm as ready as ill need to be. Yes, I'm aware it's a potent aphrodisiac but I assure you, my love and lust know no bounds when it comes to my sweet little minx” 

The call goes on a little longer, Lucifer giving some final details on safety measures, only giving Diavolo's emergency number in case he completely loses himself, and so on. Who woulda thought the demons in the seediest parts of the underworld would be so caring? Then again it’s rumored Barbatos and Diavolo run the palace in disguise so…

When asked how they are to bring you in, Lucifer just smiles and tries not to break the phone in an angered crush. To think they’d touch you, it just sent a pang of anger through his core. But he knows they’re simply doing their job, so he can’t exactly kill them just yet.

“I’ll use the spells you have on hand, or ill bring them in myself under a guise of a last dinner together. You’ll know it's me by what I'm wearing. None of this better go wrong, or I assure you, you wont live to warn the others of my wrath”.

-Mommabean (HI! I hope you likes this bean!!)

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 3 - Oakmoss

Autumn Embers Masterlist

CW: Omegaverse scent-heavy flirting, food related flirting, Brandon (derogatory)

It’s three weeks later that Sergeant Garrick catches you walking out of your building at the end of the day. You’re more distracted than usual - trying to decipher a text from Jack about his upcoming heat - so you’re almost on top of him before you realize. His smile is genuine when you jump back from nearly stepping on his boot.

“Sorry!”

“No harm done,” he assures you. His hand comes forward. “Sergent Kyle Garrick.”

“We’ve met,” you point out, allowing a short, comfortable handshake.

His grin goes a little bit sheepish when he takes his hand back. “Well, I had to introduce myself better than Soap, at least. That’s MacTavish.”

“Ah,” you say. “Well… good to meet you.”

“The team wanted to thank you, for the information,” he continues. “It was very helpful. That Lawrence guy would have had us runnin’ in circles. We also, uh,” he shuffles his feet a bit, and looks away. “We didn’t want to overstep. By offering a gift before clearing it with you.”

Oh, he thinks he’s clever. You arch an eyebrow, “You want me to give your pack permission to give me gifts, Sergent Garrick?”

“I told them you’d catch on too fast,” he laughs.

At least he has the decency not to deny it. Here you had been tying yourself into knots about being too emotional in a meeting, and now a pretty man is asking permission for his pack to court you. Part of you is relieved. The last thing you need is more alphas pissed off at you, prowling around the base looking for a pissing contest.

Another part of you is annoyed.

You carefully regulate your breathing. “Yeah, I’m pretty good at catching these kinds of things by now. But you don’t have to thank me for doing my job.” You sidestep him and start walking toward the car park.

Sergent Garrick falls into step beside you. “I’ve offended you.”

You sigh. Of course he’d be sensitive to the way your scent changes. You practically scent burned him in a closed room. You step to the side of the walkway and turn to face him. “I’m sure you and your pack are wonderful, sergeant, but I’ve had a long day.”

His smile is charming. “Anything we can do to help?”

“Not approaching me with a courting offer at my workplace would be a good start,” you say, blandly. You watch his face muscles twitch through confusion, shock, and a tinge of horror before continuing. “While I’m flattered that you would tell your pack about me, I prefer to keep things professional on base. And I’m sure your team would prefer that as well. Have a nice night.”

“Wait,” He reaches out, but has the good sense not to touch you. “Would it be better, then, to maybe approach you off-base?”

Why do alphas think I’ll find you elsewhere is ever a good thing to imply? “Like how Sergeant MacTavish approached me at the bar?” He doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. You take a step back, his confusion tickling your nose. “I’m not really interested in being the subject of whatever competitive thing you have going. Have a good night, Sergeant.”

By the time you get back to your car, you’re not mad anymore. Just tired. You climb into the drivers seat and tip your head back with a sigh. Garrick and MacTavish aren’t the first alphas to want to try taming the Wildfire, and they won’t be the last. But it still stings. For once, it’d be nice if someone saw you and thought you were pretty and interesting instead of just a challenge to conquer.

You let yourself have a few more seconds of self-pity before you strap in and start the car. You’ll give Jack a call, make plans for his heat, and leave the sergeants to do their thing.

The next day, when you get to your office, there’s a travel cup of hot coffee from your favorite coffee shop on the edge of your desk, along with a gift card and a note. You don’t really think much of it - coffee from Sherry as a reward for a job well done isn’t unheard of - but the the gift card for 25 pounds is a bit excessive. The unfamiliar handwriting on the note catches your eye.

Please accept this apology for yesterday.

It’s signed by Captain John Price. That’s… interesting. Speaks well to the cohesion of the 141 that Sergeant Garrick would let him know that he made you uncomfortable. Hopefully this means that neither of the sergeants will be dogging your steps. On the other hand, an almost perfect coffee made it to your office somehow. You’re still dealing with a bit of overbearing alpha bullshit. But apology bullshit is better than the alternative, so you settle in for your day.

By lunch, you’ve pushed the note to the back of your mind. When Sherry walks in, you expect a conversation about taking on Jerry’s workload with his upcoming parental leave. You don’t expect her to place a paper bag from the very fancy sandwich shop across town onto your desk. You can smell warm bread and something else in there.

“Special delivery,” she says. Before you can pull the bag close to poke around, she holds out a folded piece of paper. “Ah, ah! I was told to give you this first.”

“What? Sherry, let me… eat.”

Please accept this offer as a formal request to discuss an intention of courtship. Captain Johnathan Price Lieutenant Simon Riley Sergeant Kyle Garrick Sergeant Johnathan MacTavish

Each of the signatures is different. You look from the note to Sherry’s curious face and back down. You’re glad you have so much practice locking down your scent, because your emotions are all over the place. You flash her a quick smile as you refold the note and stick it under the edge of your keyboard.

“Thanks, I’ll take care of it.”

She nods, with a nervous smile of her own. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” you lie, hoping she doesn’t pick up on the spike of your scent as your heart races. “The 141 had a successful mission after that awful meeting with Brandon and that CIA agent.”

“Oh! Well that’s good,” she says with a sharp nod. She knocks twice on the edge of your desk before she turns to leave. “You always do good work. Least those boys could do is buy you lunch.”

Once she’s gone, you wait a few seconds, then get up to quietly close your door. And then you eye the fancy paper bag on your desk like it’s a bomb. You circle back to pick up the note, read it, fold it, open it to read again.

You snap a picture and send it to the group chat. Then snap a picture of the gifts and note from this morning. You re-re-re-read the second note again.

When you phone rings, you pick up without looking. “What do I do?”

Jack wails into your ear. “Bitch, what do you MEAN what do you do?”

“Do I open it?”

“Open what?”

You snap a picture of the stamped bag sitting on the edge of your desk and send it to the chat. “They sent this with-”

Chrissy’s icy voice startles you. “If you don’t show me what’s in that bag right now I will scream.”

“What if opening it is accepting it?” When the phone chirps in your ear, you hiss, “I can’t do a video call, I’m in my office.”

“Quit stalling,” Chrissy snaps. “Open the bag.”

You pull it closer, then pause. “Should we wait for Mel?”

“NOW,” Jack bellows.

“I’m also at work,” Mel’s says, steady and unbothered. “So please stop yelling.”

The bag crinkles a bit when you pull it closer, silencing everyone. You’re not sure why you’re holding your breath, but it comes out in a little huff of disappointment when you look inside and the first thing you see is napkins.

“Okay,” you whisper, as you start pulling things out. The first food item you find is a roll. “We have… bread, still warm. A half of a sandwich - ooh! The goat cheese and pear one. A half salad,” you squint through the translucent lid. “It looks like it has berries. Oh, it looks like there’s a soup in here, too, nice. And the utensils. And…”

When you don’t say anything else, Jack prompts you. “And?”

“There’s a, uh,” you cover your eyes as your face flushes. “It’s a cake.”

The silence is deafening. You make yourself peek into the unassuming box, and the four-inch, round cake positively dripping with what smells like orange syrup, spices, and the faintest hint of alcohol. Your face gets even hotter when you connect the dots and realize the cardamom you’re smelling reminds you of Sergeant Garrick.

It’s Mel who breaks the silence, clearing their throat before asking, “Did they get you a custom cake from the Trinity Rose?”

You can’t make yourself say anything, so you take a picture of it for the group chat. Then a couple more at different angles, because the curl of orange and peel on top looks like something out of a movie. You hear when the photos load, each of your friends sucking in a quiet breath. Chrissy must mute her mic, because the background noise drops significantly.

“Someone please say something,” you whisper.

Jack says, “Holy shit.”

“What does it smell like?” Mel asks, cutting to the chase. “Is it good?”

“It smells so good,” you admit. “Like… ridiculously good.”

Chrissy comes back on the line, sounding a little breathless. “They apologized with coffee this morning?”

“Yeah-”

“So this wasn’t part of the apology,” she continues. “Guys, this is. This is a legit courtship thing.”

“The website says they offer courtship packages,” Mel confirms. “It’s pretty cute, a subscription service for lunch. But it doesn’t actually include a cake.”

“There’s gotta be at least a two week wait on something like this.” You say it as soon as you realize it. Embarrassment flashes hot and cold down your entire body and you have to cover your face. “Oh gods, this had to be planned in advance.”

Chrissy hisses, “The bakery at the Trinity Rose is award winning. Of course this was planned in advance.”

“Wait, are they all in a pack?” Jack yelps. “All four of them? And they’re all alphas? There has to be more to the pack than that, right?”

Mel makes a disagreeing sound. “If there were more, they’d have signed. This is a very formal pre-courtship gift. Well. Mostly formal.”

You have to resist chewing on your lip. “Should I eat it?”

“No reason to waste a perfectly nice lunch,” they point out. Jack and Chrissy make agreeing noises. “But I’d probably wait to eat the cake until you get home.”

“So I can think about it?”

“What? No. You’ve already decided to hear them out,” Mel dismisses. “I just wouldn’t eat a sex cake at work.”

That startles a squawking laugh out of you. “It’s not a sex cake!”

“Oh, so they got a custom syrup cake that matches your scent as a platonic gesture?” Chrissy challenges.

“…There’s a little bit of cardamom,” you admit. “That’s Sergeant Garrick’s scent.”

“It’s a sex cake,” Mel confirms over the train whistle noise Chrissy makes before she can mute herself again. “When Garrick shows up to escort you to your car this evening, maybe don’t chew his head off.”

“Oh no,” you groan. Your head thumps against your arm as you throw yourself down onto the desk. “He was trying to ask for permission to court me and I was a complete bitch to him.”

You deserve the laughter of your best friends for that. But eventually, you rally. If you’re actually going to enjoy your lunch, you have to start eating now or you’ll have to eat and work later. You start with the sandwich and mute your mic as you take a huge bite. By unspoken agreement, the conversation shifts to the weekend and Jack’s heat, then Chrissy’s client who insists on in person meetings three days before her heat. Mel lets you all ramble for a good twenty minutes before ushering everyone off the phone since Jack is the only one who doesn’t have deadlines and scheduled clients.

Which leaves you staring at the cake.

Your eyes dart to the still closed door of your office, then back. You’re too full of good food to eat a whole cake, but… a bite couldn’t hurt. And while the gift is definitely a little… suggestive… it’s not actually a sex cake. Just a bit... decadent. Sherry’s husband sends her flowers that match their pack’s scents. That’s basically the same thing.

Right?

Before you can second guess yourself, you scoop a bite into your mouth.

The taste that bursts over your tongue makes you moan out loud. You definitely should have waited until you got home. The cake is so rich, cut by the orange and whiskey in a way that almost demands a second bite. There’s something indescribable teasing the back of your palate, hidden by cardamom and the hint of something - raspberry? - but so distinctly there. When you try to focus on it, you keep coming back to a smokiness that can’t be anything but the alcohol.

Before you know it, you’ve eaten a quarter of the little cake. Your stomach feels warm, and you admit to yourself that it’s probably not a good idea to keep consuming alcohol at work. So you close the little box and lick the fork while you log back into your computer one handed. Your lips are sticky. Even after you use your thumb to help clean them off you’re so aware of them.

You catch yourself pursing and rolling your lips through the rest of your day. You can’t resist taking another bite every now and then. Every time, you remember Mel calling it a sex cake and wonder if Captain Price thought about this when placed the order. You remember the way Lieutenant Riley’s eyes had slid down your body. Had he known he wanted to send you this cake then? Did Sergeant MacTavish imagine you licking your fork when he signed the note? Was Sergeant Garrick thinking about this moment when he saw you yesterday?

When the day ends, you send a picture of the cake with more than a third missing to the group chat as you log out. I fucked up, it’s a sex cake.

Beta Daddy: Told you.

Best Bitch: WHAT DOES IT TASTE LIKE

Barbie: drinks at mel and jax tonite

You: :thumbsup:

You: genuinely no idea how to describe, i’ll try tonight

You’re nervous, closing up shop for the evening. Would Sergeant Garrick be waiting for you again? Or will your hyper-independence come back to bite you? You hope someone will be there to walk you, and the possibility of that not being the case cools you. And then you look back at the box of cake in your hands and flush hot. Maybe it’s better that you don’t run into anyone after an entire afternoon of rubbing your lips and thinking of the 141.

You’re shocked out of your musings just before you can exit the building by Brandon of all people calling your name. With a groan, you’re dropped back to reality. You at least let yourself step outside for some fresh air before he can reach you.

“Sherry said the 141 had a question for you. What was it?” Not even a hello. Typical. Thanks a lot, Sherry.

Luckily, you have a lie prepared. “Just another question about Cloudstone.”

“What question?” He steps closer, trying to use his height to intimidate. “I’m the point of contact, they should be speaking to me directly.”

“Hm. Maybe should’ve reached out to you,” Lieutenant Riley’s voice says from behind your right shoulder. “Got a lo’ of info on alpha enhancements, then?”

Brandon’s shocked, offended scent almost drowns out the Lieutenant’s. Almost. You tilt your head before you realize you’re doing it, and catch that hint of something that you’ve been chasing all afternoon, earthy and intriguing. Your mouth waters. You barely stop yourself from biting your lip and tune back into the conversation.

“I wasn’t able to give them an answer today,” you butt in, before Brandon can get too worked up. “I’ll CC you on the email when I have everything.”

“Fine,” Brandon says, glaring daggers at the Lieutenant.

And then the three of you just… stand there.

Behind you, Lieutenant Riley smells amused. “Dismissed.”

Brandon gapes at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re dismissed. Unless you have more to add on the subject.”

Being caught between clashing alphas is not how you thought today would end. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see people look at Lieutenant Riley, then at Brandon, and then visibly decide to wait to exit the building. When you start to inch away, the lieutenant touches just beneath your left shoulder blade with the tips of his fingers. You freeze with a sharp inhale. Brandon looks between the two of you. Then his face settles into a sneer.

“Think hard about what you say next,” Lieutenant Riley ways with almost no inflection. Brandon’s face freezes and goes a little pale. You remember, suddenly, that the man at your back is also called the Ghost. “Because challenging me won’t go well for you. Walk away under your own power.”

The resonance of his voice combines with the way his scent teases your olfactory nerves and sends a shiver through you. You’re suddenly aware of the warmth that’s been building behind your bellybutton all afternoon. You don’t hear the next thing Brandon says. He’s too focused on his own offense to notice your distraction, thank the gods, but -

One of the fingers at your back taps you gently, once, twice. And then you feel the gentlest scrape of a fingernail against your shirt.

“I have to go,” you squeak, taking a step toward the parking lot. To Brandon, you say “I will make sure I email you first thing in the morning.”

You can see Brandon’s jaw working, but no matter how irritated he is, he’s outmatched and he knows it. After a moment, he answers. “See that you do.”

“’Ll walk you,” Lieutenant Riley intones. “Wanna make sure I understand the answer to the Captain’s question.” He turns his back to Brandon and gestures for you to continue walking.

A part of you wants to see what will happen if Brandon answers the obvious insult. It’s not hard to imagine the crunch of his body hitting the pavement, the way the Ghost might growl down and force him to yield. Another, loud part of you needs to not get this wet standing right outside of your office. So you hustle away and try to cool yourself down.

Of course, the Lieutenant is right beside you. You chance a glance up - he’s so tall! - at his face, covered today by a black surgical mask. His brown eyes catch yours and crinkle at the edges as he smiles, but he doesn’t say anything. Just keeps walking with you until you’re standing next to your car.

“Sorry,” he says, looking across the car park. “Weren’t my intention to cause trouble.”

“No,” you say, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket and looking at your keys in your hand. “It’s not your fault, I, um, I told my coworker that lunch was work-related. I guess she told Brandon.”

He nods. “Tha’s fair. Should I tell the Cap’n that lunch was work-related?”

When you look back up, he’s already gazing back at you. There’s just enough light to see his eyes darken as he tips his head up just a bit. He’s scenting you, his effect on you. You feel your face get hot as you look away from him again.

He gives an amused-sounding huff. “Need time to think about it?”

Do you? “No, I… I would be open to discussing an intention of courtship.”

Lieutenant Riley purrs. It’s deep and gravely, but unmistakable for anything else. The sound startles you into meeting his eyes. This time, he holds your gaze and takes a step forward, then another when you back up until you bump into your car. He doesn’t come any closer, but his eyes say that he wants to.

“Skipper wants to meet somewhere open,” he says. “The Spice Garden has a nice outdoor space, if you’re free Saturday.”

You almost say yes, but catch yourself. “I… have to help my friend through his heat this weekend.”

He nods his head, never breaking eye contact. “Next week, then.”

You do a quick calculation in your head. “I can be free tomorrow evening by… seven, as long as things aren’t too… formal.”

“Won’t be formal,” he assures you. “Cap insisted on a gift and formal invitation, but we don’t stand too much on ceremony. Bit unconventional, far as packs go.”

You nod, too fast. “Okay. I… does tomorrow work?”

“If you wanted us tonight, you could have us,” he answers, eyes crinkling again. He takes a step back, looking at the box in your hand, then back into your eyes. “Tomorrow then. Enjoy the cake.”

[luvismenu]

STARBOY — JJK ,, 05 universe ✎ ,, index

warnings: just them bantering and idk, fluff? (jungkook trying to be romantic ekjwkwja)

note: yay finally!! i will update more often now dw guys (not an empty promise) only 5 more chaps!

“___! can i take a break now? i think everything’s fine.”

you glance around the room, groups of students chatter excitedly, some jittery with nerves as they await the start of the contest, while others treat the event like a casual hangout, their laughter echoing too loudly in the room.

turning back to elena, you let out a sigh. “just a few more minutes, vice. can you help me get everyone to settle down? you’ll get your break once the contest ends and we’re waiting for the results, yeah?”

she looks momentarily disappointed, her shoulders slumping slightly, but she nods.

you offer her a small, reassuring smile. “thank you for sticking with me through all of this. it’ll be over soon, i promise.”

her expression softens at your words, and she gives you a faint smile before heading off to manage the crowd. you take a moment to breathe, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

that’s when you notice kim namjoon weaving his way through the throng of students, his tall frame making him hard to miss.

“looks like you’ve got everything under control,” he says as he approaches

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i wouldn’t say that. it’s more like controlled chaos.”

namjoon smiles. “that’s still impressive. pulling off an event like this isn’t easy, but you seem to have it handled.”

“well, i have all of you to thank for a lot of it,” you admit, glancing towards the vice as she speaks to a group of students. “and honestly, i’m just praying everything goes smoothly once the contest starts.”

“it will,” namjoon assures you, his voice steady. “you’ve planned everything down to the last detail. plus, the turnout’s great. everyone’s excited.”

“that’s what worries me,” you joke, half serious. “the more people, the more chances for something to go wrong.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “classic class president mindset. always prepared for the worst.”

“someone has to be,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “what about you? are you just here to observe, or are you part of the contest?”

“observe,” he says with a shrug. “i wanted to see how this plays out. it’s not every day the english majors get this much attention.”

“true,” you agree, scanning the room briefly before turning back to him. “but i thought someone like you would’ve joined. you’re always talking about writing.”

“i prefer writing stories for myself,” he admits, his expression thoughtful. “contests like these are great, but they’re not really my thing. i like watching people shine in their own way.”

his words are sincere, and for a moment, you find yourself appreciating his perspective. “that’s... nice. i hope the participants feel the same way and don’t faint from all the nerves.”

“they’ll do fine,” he says with confidence, glancing at the other students. “but you should probably take your own advice and relax a bit. you’re doing great.”

you scoff lightly but nod. “i’ll relax when this is all over.”

“fair enough,” namjoon replies with a knowing smile. “good luck, ___. not that you need it.”

“thanks,” you say, watching as he turns to blend back into the crowd.

you wonder where jungkook is.

not that you care, of course.

he was one of the people who helped the student council a lot with the event, so it’s only polite to thank him. nothing more, nothing less.

pulling out your phone, you scroll through the messages he sent earlier.

starboy: should i wear a suit?

you: it’s a contest, not the met gala.

starboy: says the girl who’s defo trying to outshine me

you: i don’t need to try :)

starboy: wow u're so humble 🙄

you: confident, maybe

starboy: r u looking forward to seeing me

you: only because you told me you're participating. nothing more.

starboy: sure. keep telling yourself that, stargirl. i know you wanna see me so bad ;)

you: wtv helps you sleep at night, starboy.

you shake your head, fighting back a small grin that threatens to creep onto your lips. he always had this way of getting under your skin, whether you wanted him to or not.

deciding to refocus, you make your way over to the vice. but to your surprise, she isn’t standing alone.

elena is talking to someone, her hands gesturing wildly, a small laugh escaping her lips. it takes you a second to realize who’s standing there with her, but the sight makes you stop in your tracks.

jungkook.

of course, he’d show up now, looking every bit like he belonged in a spotlight. he’s dressed in a crisp black suit that, while simple, fits him too perfectly to be considered anything but deliberate.

he catches your gaze almost immediately, a smug grin curling at the corner of his lips as if he knew you’d been wondering where he was.

“prez,” he says smoothly, breaking away from elena to walk towards you.

“oh no, they’re gonna argue again,” one of elena’s friends whispers, leaning closer to her.

“let’s hope not,” elena mutters nervously, her eyes fixed on you and jungkook.

“you look... stressed.” jungkook points out.

“and you look overdressed,” you shoot back, crossing your arms as you try not to let his presence throw you off.

“i call it setting the bar high,” he quips, standing in front of you now. “wouldn’t want to disappoint, you know.” he shoots a glance to a group of girls who are already eyeing him like he's the main event.

you roll your eyes, “and i thought you were here for the writing contest, not competing for bestdressed.”

“why can’t it be both?” he shrugs, the grin never leaving his face.

you shake your head. “you’re late, starboy.”

“perfection takes time,” he replies with a casual shrug.

“is perfection in the room with us?” you raise a brow, and he pretends to look offended for a moment.

“my goodness, prez,” he says dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded.

you chuckle despite yourself, and he smiles.

“thanks for helping out, jungkook,” you say, your tone softening just a little. he looks genuinely surprised for a second before his face turns smug.

“oh?” his brows lift playfully. “am i high or did you just thank me?”

“don’t make me take it back,” you warn.

he lets out a small laugh, the sound warm. “don’t mention it. after all, i am the best,” he says, leaning back as if basking in imaginary applause.

your smile immediately fades. “you’re so full of yourself.”

as you follow jungkook to the registration desk, you notice how the girls in the corner giggle louder when he walks by. he tilts his head slightly in their direction, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you’re enjoying this too much,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“what can i say? people appreciate greatness.” he shrugs, feigning modesty.

“greatness? please. you’re just tall and have nice hair. it’s not that deep.”

“you think my hair is nice?” his smirk widens, and you immediately regret your choice of words.

“focus, starboy,” you snap, pointing to the line of participants. “you’re here to submit your entry, not to boost your already inflated ego.”

“don't worry about me stargirl, i can multitask.” he flashes a grin and steps forward to sign in.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner that you were participating?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“surprise, surprise,” he says in a sing-song tone, not even glancing back.

you hum thoughtfully, narrowing your eyes at his back. “i don’t know if i’m more annoyed that you didn’t tell me or impressed that you kept a secret for once.”

“i’m full of surprises, prez,” he replies, finally turning around. “are you perhaps curious about what i wrote?"

“curious isn’t the word i’d use,” you deadpan.

as the two of you walk away from the desk, you glance at his entry form, trying to peek without being obvious. but he notices immediately.

“curious isn't the word i'd use.” he mocks you, holding the form just out of your reach.

“i was just checking if you spelled your name right.” you roll your eyes yet again.

“i’ll have you know, it’s going to win.” he says.

“oh, it’s definitely going to win something,” you say with a smirk. “most mediocre attempt, maybe.”

“keep talking,” he laughs, “but when my name is announced as the winner, i want you in the front row, clapping louder than anyone.”

“i am not a seal, you know,”

the banter continues as you both head towards the seating area, your playful digs turning heads as others watch the dynamic between the class president and the self proclaimed starboy.

the chatter in the room quiets down as the head of the event steps forward, holding a small glass bowl filled with folded slips of paper. “to kick off the contest,” she announces, her voice echoing slightly in the room, “we’ll randomly select one of our participants to read their submission aloud.”

a murmur spreads through the crowd. your eyes flick to jungkook, who leans back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be unbothered. but the way his posture stiffens as the name is drawn doesn’t escape you.

“jeon jungkook.”

you swear you see his confidence falter for just a split second, his eyes widening ever so slightly before he quickly recovers

“well, well,” you say, unable to resist a jab. “didn’t think the universe would humble you this quickly.”

“humble me?” he scoffs, standing up and dusting off his pants as if preparing for a performance. “please. this is nothing.”

the crowd shifts, a few participants nudging him towards the makeshift stage at the front. he lets out a dramatic sigh, walking forward with a nonchalance that feels just a little too forced.

“don’t trip,” you call out, earning a few chuckles from the students around you.

jungkook turns just enough to throw a glance your way, his eyes glinting. “enjoy the show, prez.”

as he steps up to the mic, the room falls into an expectant hush, the silence settling over everyone. jungkook takes his entry, he scans the words, his expression unreadable, before finally beginning to read.

“the story,” he starts, his voice steady yet soft, the kind that makes everyone lean in just a little closer. “it’s about… how one person can change everything, even if they don’t know it.”

he takes a pause, eyes scanning the room briefly before settling somewhere in the distance, as though he’s speaking to a ghost only he can see.

“she’s not like the sun, burning too bright for anyone to hold,” he begins, his voice growing quieter, more deliberate. “she’s more like the moon.. steady, always there even when you can’t see her. the kind of light that keeps you grounded on the darkest nights.”

you hear a few soft sighs from the crowd, and you can’t tell if they’re swooning or genuinely moved. you shift in your seat.

“she’s… not perfect,” he continues, a small, fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “but that’s what makes her real. she’s messy, stubborn, maybe even a little mean—” there’s a flicker of amusement in his tone, “—but somehow, she’s still the most beautiful thing i’ve ever known.”

your throat tightens, and you don’t know why. it’s just words, you tell yourself. just another story for the contest. but the way he says them makes your stomach twist.

“she doesn’t know,” jungkook says, quieter now, almost like a confession. “she doesn’t know how much space she takes up in my universe. how, even when everything else feels like it’s falling apart, she stays constant. the one thing i never want to lose.”

the silence in the room is deafening. you can feel your heart thudding against your ribs.

his voice is steady, but there’s an undercurrent of vulnerability that catches you off guard. the story he weaves is vivid and poetic, describing a brilliant, infuriating force of nature who constantly challenges and inspires him.

“she’s impossible to ignore,” he says, his eyes scanning the room but never quite meeting yours. “like a star in the night sky, guiding but distant, always just out of reach.”

his eyes finally meet yours.

“she's my universe.”

your heart stutters.

is this about—

the applause is immediate, loud and thunderous. jungkook gives a small bow, his usual smirk creeping back into place as he steps down from the stage. but for a split second, as he glances your way, you think you catch something else in his expression; something raw, something different.

“woah,” elena whispers beside you, nudging your arm. “that was… something.”

“yeah,” you murmur, but your voice sounds far away, your mind still caught on his words. “definitely something..”

note: took me a while becuz I AM NOT POETIC— 😓 but anyway lol do u guys think he could win? 🫢

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[cece693]

Stupid Crush Pt. 2 (Nico di Angelo x Son of Poseidon)

Because many of you keep requesting a part two of my original post, I couldn't help myself :) However, you might hate me for this but I want to practice writing sad endings, so if you aren't comfortable with that, I suggest living blind.

link to part one

tags: breakup, no making up, reader tries to move on, major character death, ambiguous ending, heartbreak

Nico di Angelo had never been one to give up easily, and when it came to you, he refused to let you slip away without a fight. Even after your breakup—after the heart-wrenching conversation that left him feeling gutted and empty—Nico couldn’t accept that it was truly over. He loved you. He knew he had made mistakes, but there was no way he could let that be the end.

For weeks after your relationship had ended, Nico threw himself into trying to prove his love. He started small, hoping that maybe you’d notice: he’d offer to help with your tasks, leaving small reminders that he still cared. He lingered around the Argo II, hoping for a chance to talk, to catch your eye. But every time, you kept your distance.

But then came the war.

The final fight against Gaea loomed over them all, leaving little room for anything other than survival. The battle was brutal, stretching the demigods to their limits, and for a while, Nico had to push his desire to win you back aside. They were fighting for their lives now. There was no time for hearts and feelings when the world was on the verge of collapse.

Even as he fought with everything he had, one thought kept Nico going: you. He clung to the hope that when this was all over, when Gaea was defeated, and the war was behind them, he would have another chance. Every swing of his sword, every shadow he manipulated, every ounce of his energy was fueled by the need to return to your side. He had to survive. He had to make it back to you. The war didn't come without a cost; many campers had died in battle, and with restoration efforts taking everyone's time, Nico didn't breach you or the topic until a week later.

He took it a step further. If you didn't want to see Nico, he will leave reminders of his love. This gesture alone should tell you how much you meant to him; he was always someone who kept his emotions buried beneath layers of coldess and sarcasm. But for you, he would try. He left small letters under your door—handwritten notes that declared his love in ways that were unfamiliar to him. They were never long, just a few lines scrawled in his messy handwriting, but they held every ounce of sincerity Nico could muster:

I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.

You were never the second choice. I wish I could make you see that.

I’m still here. Waiting.

He even placed his skull ring inside one of those notes, hoping that action alone would make you answer his pleads, but to no avail. Finally, after countless sleepless nights and too many failed attempts to reach you, Nico couldn’t take it anymore. He needed closure. He needed to hear your voice, even if it ended with you punching him (rightfully so.)

It was late in the evening when Nico made his way to your cabin. The sky was painted in hues of deep purple and orange, the last remnants of the sunset casting long shadows across the camp. Nico’s heart pounded in his chest, dread and hope warring within him as he stood outside your door. He knocked, and after a long moment, the door creaked open.

You stood there, framed by the soft glow of the cabin’s lanterns, your expression unreadable. You didn’t say anything at first, just stared at Nico, waiting. Nico swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, but eventually stepped aside, letting him in. The cabin was quiet, Percy nowhere to be seen. For that, Nico was thankful. He wouldn't be surprised if you had told Percy what occurred that day. He stood there for a moment, unsure where to begin. He’d rehearsed this conversation in his head a thousand times, but now that he was here, in front of you, the words felt heavy, stuck in his throat.

“I—I’ve been trying to show you that I’m sorry,” Nico started, his voice shaky. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But I never wanted to. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

"Nico." You whispered softly, eyes softening. "I-I'm trying things out with Will."

Nico's world shattered. "What?" was all he could muster. He blinked rapidly, unable to process what you had just said. His mouth opened, then closed, and for a moment he looked like he was going to crumble right in front of you.

“I…I’m trying things out with Will,” you repeated, a bit more firmly this time. Your voice was gentle, but there was a finality to it that made Nico’s heart twist painfully. His gaze dropped to the floor, staring at his shoes as if they held some kind of answer he couldn’t find in your eyes.

The silence stretched on between you, heavy and suffocating. Nico’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, the weight of all his efforts—the letters, the gifts, the endless nights of regret—collapsing under the simple truth of your words. He wanted to scream, to beg you to reconsider, but his voice failed him. When he finally managed to speak, his voice was barely a whisper.

“When did this happen?” His throat felt tight, like the air was being squeezed out of him, but he forced himself to look up, to meet your gaze even though it hurt.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “A few weeks after the battle with Gaea. Will and I…we just started talking, and things…they just happened.”

Nico’s heart twisted again, sharper this time, like a knife being driven deeper. The battle with Gaea—the war that had forced him to pause his desperate attempts to win you back, the war he had survived just so he could return to your side—had been the turning point for you, but not in the way he had hoped. He’d come back, bruised and exhausted, believing that his chance would come after the fighting was done. But the war had ended, and you had already found someone else.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You exhaled slowly, the sadness in your eyes deepening. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you. I was waiting for the right moment, but there never seemed to be one. You’ve been trying so hard, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I had moved on.”

He flinched, feeling the sting of those words cut deep. His hands trembled, and he shoved them into his pockets, trying to stop them from shaking. “Moved on?” The disbelief in his voice was raw, painful. “I never stopped loving you. Every day, I thought of ways to make it right, to show you how much you mean to me.”

“I know, Nico.” Your voice was almost pleading now, as if you wanted him to understand. “I saw everything you did. The letters, the ring—you don’t know how much it meant to me. But it’s not about how much you love me, Nico. It’s about trust. It’s about how I felt and how I still feel.”

“Then why did you keep the ring?” he asked desperately, his voice breaking as he gestured towards your desk, where his skull ring still sat, untouched since the day he left it there.

You looked away, your expression pained. “Because a part of me will always care for you. You were my first love, and I’ll never forget that. But Will, he’s been there for me in a way I needed. He’s open, and he doesn’t hide from me. I needed someone who could be honest with me, and you never were.”

The words felt like a slap to Nico’s face. He stepped back, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears burning in his eyes. “I wanted to be,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I tried. I tried so hard.”

“I know you did,” you said softly, a single tear slipping down your cheek. “But sometimes trying isn’t enough.”

Nico’s chest tightened, and he felt the darkness inside him stirring—the familiar, suffocating void that had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface. He’d fought so hard to keep it at bay, to be stronger for you. But now, standing in your cabin with the truth hanging between you like a wall he could never break through, he felt it closing in on him again.

“I—I have to go,” he choked out, turning away before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at you any longer, not when the weight of your rejection was crushing him from the inside out.

“Nico, wait—” you called after him, but he was already halfway to the door, his footsteps heavy and unsteady. He paused, just for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, and for a second he thought about turning back, about begging you one last time not to leave him behind. But he knew it wouldn’t matter. Your mind was made up, and no amount of pleading would change that.

Without another word, Nico stepped out into the night, the cool breeze washing over him as he made his way toward the darkness beyond. The camp was quiet, the stars twinkling overhead, but all he could see was the shattered remains of his hopes and dreams, lying in pieces around him. He had tried—he had tried so hard—but in the end, it hadn’t been enough.

As he walked away, the darkness swallowed him whole, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t try to fight it.

Three days later, the camp was still buzzing with post-war activity. You threw yourself into helping with the rebuilding, avoiding thoughts of Nico and the painful conversation that had ended it all. Will was always by your side, his presence a comfort to your wounded heart. It wasn't that you didn't love Nico anymore; you would perhaps love him for the rest of your life, but it was time to put yourself first.

One afternoon, you were helping organize the infirmary with Will when a sudden, cold chill ran down your spine. You froze, a sense of dread settling over you. Before you could say anything, a shout rang out from outside, a voice filled with panic and fear. “There’s been an attack!”

You and Will bolted out of the cabin, following the frantic crowd toward the forest’s edge. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed through the campers, the anxiety mounting with every step. When you finally reached the clearing, you saw them—several demigods huddled around a small, motionless figure lying in the grass.

“No,” you whispered, your blood turning to ice as you caught sight of the dark clothes, the familiar face pale and still. “Nico…”

Will was already kneeling beside him, his hands glowing with golden light as he tried to heal the deep, ragged wound that marred Nico’s side. But you could see it in his eyes—the terror, the hopelessness. The injury was too severe, the damage too great.

“No, no, no,” you said, falling to your knees beside him, your hands hovering helplessly over Nico’s broken body. His eyes fluttered open, just barely, the shadows that had once seemed so invincible now dimmed to a fragile flicker.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice a faint rasp that barely reached your ears. His gaze was distant, glassy, but somehow he managed to find yours, a small, sad smile ghosting across his lips. “I never meant to hurt you."

A sob caught in your throat as you cupped his cheek, your hands trembling. “Nico, please…Just hold on,” you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of panic and grief.

Nico’s smile wavered, his chest shuddering with the effort to breathe. “I’m…I’m so tired,” he murmured, his eyes beginning to drift shut, the pain etched into every line of his face. “I wanted to make things right…to make you…happy.” Each word came slower, his strength ebbing away with every breath he took.

“You did,” you said, your voice fierce despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. You squeezed his hand harder, as if the strength of your grip alone could keep him tethered to this world. “Nico, you did make me happy. You still do. Just stay with me. Please, Nico, don’t go.”

A tear slid down Nico's pale cheek, mingling with the blood that stained his skin. “I love you,” he whispered, the words barely a breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a desperate intensity. “Always…love you.”

“I love you too,” you choked out, pressing your forehead against his, your tears mingling with his. You felt his body go slack, his hand falling limp in your grasp. “Nico! No, please! Nico!” You held his body close, your heart breaking all over again as the truth settled over you. The boy who had fought through hell for you, who had bared his soul and faced his deepest fears, was gone.

His last breath had been a promise—a truth you’d never doubted, even when he had hurt you. But now, that truth lay heavy in your arms, lifeless and still. His body felt too small, too fragile, for someone who had carried so much pain, who had survived so much darkness. The only comfort you took was that you would see Nico again. That was a promise.

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Three

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of parental abuse, mentions of violence, implied torture, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys asks you to be an emissary for the Night Court and Azriel volunteers to train you.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two

The next month was spent with you learning about Velaris and the rest of Prythian. Even though you were 20 when you ended up in the northern village, you knew a lot had changed in the 100… and 50… years since then. You couldn’t count on anything you learned from being a spy because so much was different under Amarantha.

You spent days in the Library under the house, reading books about High Lords and Illyrians. You also found some good romance novels you brought up to your room.

This city, one that was full of hopes and dreams and happiness… It hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Not even the people in the Court of Nightmares knew about it anymore, thanks to Rhys’s protection.

You got to know Cassian, Mor, and Amren pretty well. Azriel had been off doing his own spying, so you only got to know him from what the Inner Circle told you.

You felt like you were starting to belong here. Like you could find a place in the city. Maybe even in the circle. 

“I have an offer for you.” Rhys said at dinner one day. You took a sip of your wine and rose your eyebrows, telling him to go on. “We are trying to get the Illyrians to train the females. Those who want to be trained, or aren’t being threatened by their partners, of course. And I think you’d be a good emissary to the war bands.” He said, glancing at Cassian as if to say keep your mouth shut.

“Me? I- I don’t know if they would listen to a female… especially if their High Lord is having trouble with it.” You said, glancing over to Cassian. You knew the male would probably support what you chose, but if the High Lord and Lord Commander were struggling… 

“Well, then you’ll have to make them listen. And not to bring your abilities into it… but you are a Shadowsinger. They can’t deny that, and they’ll tolerate you more because of it.” He said. How lovely…

“Like they did for Azriel?” You asked, hearing the stories of the brothers from Mor and Rhys. They barely allowed him to train, being a bastard. The only reason they did was because he was a Shadowsinger, and Rhys’s friend… “I don’t know, Rhys… it’s one thing to visit those camps. But to try and convince them that they have to train females..” you trailed off. “I don’t even know how to fight. I can’t very well take on an Illyrian.”

“You know how to hunt, right?” Cassian asked and you shrugged. You hunted for Sirona and your family when you first arrived at the northern village, but you hadn’t done a lot in the past 50 years. The most you ever did was with your Shadows, and that was more described as sneaking. “Then I’ll teach you to fight. Show the Illyrians that females can fly in their ranks just as good, if not better, than any male.” He said.

“You can think about it-“ Rhys started but you shook your head.

“I’ll do it.” You said firmly. “I’m tired of being useless when it comes to protecting myself and the people I love. I’m not going to let it happen again.” You said, your shadows settling on your shoulders as if they were backing you up. You let your family down before. You let your blood family harm you and the only thing you could do was flee. 

“Okay, then it’s settled. I’ll train you-“

“How about I do it?” You heard Azriel’s voice, turning to him where he leaned against the wall. A few of your shadows bolted to him like the first day you met, this time wrapping around him before coming back to you. You could’ve sworn they brought some of his scent with them. They didn’t say anything, but they seemed to like him more than anyone else you met. 

“Az, when did you get back?” Cassian asked.

As smirked, “Just now.” He said

“You want to train (Y/N)?” Cassian asked, resulting in Azriel nodding.

“I can teach you how to fight with and without your shadows. And when I’ve gotta go out on missions, Cass can train you on the former.” He said and you looked at Rhys.

“Whatever you want.” Rhys said and smiled. “It’s your choice.”

You glanced between the two. You didn’t know Azriel as well as you did Cassian… but you knew he was a Shadowsinger like you. And you know he could help you hone your abilities. You also knew that he was just as much a deadly warrior as the other two males sitting beside you.

“Okay, it’s a good idea.” I said and gave him a small smile. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush, but only for a moment before he was back to showing his unreadable mask. “Maybe you can teach me how to spy… and this time actually keep secrets when I want to.” You joked. You knew how to spy. Knew how to get information out of people. When Rhys didn’t have time to interrogate spies under the mountain, she had you do it. You still felt blood on your hands from all the lesser faeries and High Fae you harmed on her behalf. 

Az only gave you a small nod before joining the rest of you at the table. “I do have one request,” you said to all of them. “I don’t go to Valorworth until I’m done training.” You said. Before any of them could ask, you continued. “I can’t see my family… My blood family… yet. What they did to me.. I was weak and a coward. I couldn’t stand up for myself so the only thing I did was run. So the next time I do see them, I want to be able to show them I’m not weak. And I won’t run from them.”

There was something of understanding on all of their faces as you looked around the table. “If you want to kill them, we’ll gladly allow it.” Cassian said with a small smirk on his face. “Hell, I’ll even do it.” Rhys said and you smiled, letting out a small laugh.

“I don’t need to go that far… yet.” You said and leaned back in the chair, happy to be able to help the Court.

“You’ll get a salary as well,” Rhys said. “You’re welcome to stay here at the House. Or the townhouse. But you can also find an apartment.” He said and you smiled.

“I’ll think about it. Right now, it’s better to stay close to where I can train.” You settled. “If staying here is okay with all of you, that is.” You said.

“Are you kidding? It’ll be so much better having you here and not just the boys.” Mor said and you laughed gently, finally feeling like you could really fit in here.

The next day you went up to the training ring, seeing Azriel already warming up. You stood quietly by the stairs, watching as his shadows moved with him as he did movements you’d seen thousands of times in Valorworth.

His shadows didn’t warn him of your presence. A couple of them snuck out from behind his legs and went over to you, circling around your hair. Your own shadows moved to join him in the center of the ring. You still barely understood the concept of Shadowsinging, even after all these years. But maybe now, with him as your teacher, you could understand it more. And learn to understand yourself.

You finally cleared your throat as you stepped forward. As much as you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stand and watch him all day. “You certainly know what you’re doing.” You commented as you walked closer to him.

Rhys had gotten Illyrian training leathers for you, tailored to your wings and your sizes. So when you walked up to Azriel, he had to pause just to take you in. You didn’t wear dresses much, but you also didn’t wear anything as tight fitting as this. Not that he’s seen you within the past month.

You shifted under his gaze, looking up to the sky. After breakfast and before you came here, you decided to take a flight. You knew it would be getting colder, and the frigid fall air only proved you right. This would be one of the last nice days before it started to snow. And flying would be a hassle.

“I am teaching you for a reason.” He finally said and you nodded. “Come here, let’s get started.” He motioned you over to where he stood.

You walked over and set your hands to your side. You were glad he decided to train you here and not in Windhaven. You didn’t know if you could handle being seen by the males, critiqued. Cassian told you that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to train you here. Apparently, Azriel hated the Illyrians. You completely understood, too, from what you’d learn about Azriel. The things that happened to him while at the war camps. Especially before Rhysand’s mother had come along to take him in. Still, you didn’t want to start training as an Illyrian when you didn’t know anything. 

You weren’t sure how or why Azriel still adapted to the training, but it was probably so ingrained into him (and useful) that he couldn’t let it go. And so you had your trainer.

“I’m assuming you never trained at the camp?” He asked and you simply shook your head, scoffing at the idea. Your father would have killed you if he saw you anywhere near the training rings. “Do you know the exercises at all? Anything?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I was 20 when I left, and I was never allowed near the ring. I’ve only ever saw my brothers train once, and I remember the beating I got for it more than anything else.” You said. “All I know is that my father had a killer left hook that would leave my face bruised for a week. Even with my healing.” You said and saw something like anger flash through Azriel’s eyes before returning to his soft stare.

“Then let’s teach you an even worse one, and maybe he’ll learn never to hit a female again.” He said and you gave him a small smirk.

“Let’s.” You agreed and started the warm up with him.

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A/N: Well we see the reader finally interact with Azriel! Not much but just a little taste of it... I hope y'all like slow burns cause this one is very much that...

Tagging:

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickisshadowsinger139

@atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86

[dabislittlemouse]

tainted angel 🪽 MASTERLIST

ෆ pairing: Dabi x Hawks’ little sister

ෆ Synopsis: While stalking Hawks and trying to find out more information about him, Dabi comes across his little sister, a sweet angelic thing that welcomes him inside her house with a bright smile on her face. Dabi can’t help but get obsessed over her, the sudden urge to make her his takes over him entirely, maybe to have Hawks under his control while he enjoys his little sister, or maybe he really does like her. Nevertheless, she does not know the danger she just involved herself in, nor does she know that her brother’s handsome “friend” is in fact a dangerous villain who has sick twisted intentions.

ෆ cw‼️: smut, yandere themes, corruption kink, dubcon/noncon, mixed feelings, Dabi being a flirt and a pervert, stalking,

ෆ A/N please read before going further: This multichapter fic is written in Dabi’s POV mostly, it’s written in first person. You will come across Dabi’s thoughts and feelings, how he perceives things. He calls Keigo’s sister “angel” instead of the famous Y/N label, so I’ll be calling her angel too. Sometimes I include angel’s POV too (which you can totally insert yourself and imagine being her. As I write this fic I also imagine myself being the sister as well). Due to her being Keigo’s sister she might have specific descriptions such as hair color, eye color, skin, wings etc.

CHAPTER 1

During a boring rainy day of wandering around, Dabi gets a call from the men he hired to get more information on Hawks. They had found his old house, where supposedly his mother lived. Dabi decides to pay her a little visit, not knowing the surprise that was waiting for him: the little angel Hawks used to keep hidden from the public.

CHAPTER 2

Hawks threatens Dabi to not get close to his family, specifically his sister. But Dabi definitely has other plans the moment he got her number, deciding to call her late at night.

CHAPTER 3

Angel continues to secretly interact with Dabi despite Hawks warning her not to. She is entirely captivated by his charm and mysteriousness. Dabi decides to pay her a little visit and leave a small gift.

CHAPTER 4

She finally agrees to meet Dabi behind an alleyway, late at night. They both head to an empty park, where Dabi decides to make a move and savour her. From that moment things get heated up.

CHAPTER 5

Hawks is worried that his sister was out so late at night. He starts doubting her words, wondering if she is even telling the truth. He is not pleased with what he sees once she comes back.

CHAPTER 6

As Dabi refuses to elaborate on who he is and what bad things he has done, angel starts getting more paranoid. Especially knowing that he might’ve possibly entered her house at night or stalked her. As much as she enjoyed his company, she doesn’t feel safe, so she decides to listen to her brother’s warnings and stop talking to Dabi. Though Dabi is anything but pleased with her decision.

CHAPTER 7

She has been keeping watch for a few nights by now, anxiously waiting just in case Dabi decided to appear again, living in constant fear. Strange dreams appear in her sleep, of him being so close to her, touching her body in ways she begs for more. But is this really just a dream?

CHAPTER 8

“You like the danger don’t cha?” Dabi smirks. “You like some thrill in your boring peaceful life, something troublesome that has your blood boiling and adrenaline rushing.. isn’t that right doll? You like to play with fire, mess with the unknown, scared that you’ll burn and yet needing more. Confusing isn’t it?”

CHAPTER 9

Time for a real date. Giving Dabi another chance, she again lets herself swim in dangerous waters, though this time she won’t come back unscathed

CHAPTER 10

Giving in to the temptation and burning desire that could no longer be contained, she finally lets her body and soul into Dabi’s hands.

.

.

Divider credits @cafekitsune

🏷️current tags on this fic: @dabihawksluva @syrenkitsune @touyalove @awalkingshame @cr-33-d @luvsymai if anyone else wants to be added in the taglist and get notified when a new chapter drops, let me know!

[faggymutt]

contains: pet play, cnc, knotting

new herding pup joining the pack and me and the older dogs have to teach him the ropes. at first, we just have him follow us around while we move the sheep around. after a little bit, we have him try to lead the herd, but he’s too soft, not enough teeth.

the other dogs and i decide that he needs to spend some one on one time with me to make him tougher. one of the days when the herd is more relaxed, i take him off to the smaller barn close to the edge of the property.

first, ill have him show me his teeth and his growl. his growl is more of a cough and his snarl looks like a grimace. with a demeaning chuckle, i'll shake my head and tell him to sit down, keep his eyes on me, and try not to get scared.

ill draw myself up to my full height and start a low rumble, slowly stalking towards the pup. my lips will curl up as a i get louder and closer to him, the rumble becoming more and more threatening.

his ears fold back and his tail tucks between his legs as i get closer to him. i start to circle him, and maybe im starting to have a little fun, and snap my jaw. i circle him once, twice, then stop in front of his face and snarl straight at him. he whimpers a little, so what if i think its funny?

and maybe i’ll get a little carried away and back him up against a wall. maybe ill pin his shoulders to the wood and start to sniff at his neck, drinking in his scent. it riles me up, my vision starting to cloud with red.

before i can stop myself, i’ve pushed him to the ground, shoving his face into the straw covered floor. he barks and whines, scrabbling at my arms and trying to get away. i pin his arms behind his back and mount him, shoving my cock into his puppycunt without any hesitation. his voice breaks on a moan and it sounds like music.

i can't help but rut into him without abandon. after a little bit, he starts to give in, his cries turning into whines for more. his puppyhole clenches around me, and i drape myself across his back, pushing his hips back onto my dick.

he starts to beg for my cum and my knot and who am i to deny him? with a few more heavy thrusts, ill finish inside him as i groan. he whimpers happily as he feels it fill him, squeezing around me. i sit up and pause, panting. then i start to grind into him, pushing my knot into his cunt. he squirms and whines, i think he underestimated the size, but when it finally pops in all he can do is say thank you.

we keep training in the barn, even after he's able to herd sheep on his own. you can never stop learning after all.

[leighsartworks216]

Hellooooo i have a request for Astarion that like

I’m dying to see:

Gn! Druid Tav that had small petty fight with Astarion, Astarion being his stubborn self didn’t apologize ~properly~ or acknowledge he was wrong, tries to pretend the fight didnt happen and chat with Tav, Tav shapeshifts into a cat to avoid talking to him and fights sass with sass and Astarion melts at Tav being adorable😭?

I finished writing this and then was like,, I forgot it's not normal for partners to like scold each other by pinching them and stuff?? My ex used to do shit like that so I just forgot that wasn't normal. So I'm just going to clarify that in this story it's not malicious or anything like that. If it makes you uncomfortable tho I am 100% willing to rewrite it so that's not there at all

Warnings: swearing, scratching

Word Count: 759

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion sits beside you as though it’s just any other day. He’s got that damn suave smirk on his face - you can just feel it radiating off of him without even needing to see. You try not to visibly bristle and turn your head further away from him. It was best to just wait it out and maybe he’d finally suck up his damn pride long enough to apologize. Maybe.

“So, darling,” he makes sure to really emphasize the word, drawing it out sweetly, “in the interest of keeping myself in peak fighting form, I’m inclined to ask if you would be ever so kind as to let me dine with - or rather - on you tonight.”

You huff a dry laugh. Sharp, short, but lacking genuine amusement. You don’t say anything. Instead, you focus on patching up one of your shirts.

He leans close to you, hovering just over your shoulder. His chest just barely grazes your arm and his breath ghosts across your ear and neck. Was this bastard really trying to seduce you? At a time like this? “Please, dear heart? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You glance over your shoulder, to make sure he can see the dead-pan look on your face. “No.” You pull the thread taught. Admittedly, you tug a little more than necessary, bunching up the fabric. Astarion definitely notices. He always does.

“Don’t tell me you’re still upset about earlier?” he chides.

You turn to face your back fully to him, forcing him to move back. You smooth out the bunches of fabric and roughly, messily, continue the next few stitches. He sighs dramatically.

“Come on, love, that was hours ago! All I said was your stitches aren’t even!”

You scoffed and angrily wrinkled your shirt in your lap as you whirled around to face him. “You said my stitches weren’t even and that they were ugly! I have been fixing my clothes my whole life - this is the most efficient stitch to ensure it doesn’t unravel!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to leave a mile between stitches!”

Fuck this. If he doesn’t want to apologize, the least you can do is give him a taste of his own catty fighting style.

One moment, you’re a perfectly humanoid being. The next, you’ve shrunken to less than a foot off the ground. Your back arches, your tail fluffs and sticks straight up, and you bare pointed canines at him as a scratchy hissing comes from your throat. Astarion can hardly feel threatened by a feline.

“Now you’re just being childish,” he scoffs. You jump forward to dig your claws into his leg. “Ow! Hey, that’s not fair!”

He grabs you by your middle and lifts you up. Your claws are removed from his skin, but they continue to pull on his pants.

“You’re going to rip my pants!”

You squirm from his hold, releasing his pants in the process, and land back on the ground. You sit next to your abandoned, half-fixed shirt, back turned to the vampire once more. Your tail flicks side to side in irritation.

Astarion rubs his leg and checks that there’s no lasting damage. There isn’t, of course. Even your claws were mere pinpricks compared to what damage you could do with them, and you’d never willingly destroy his belongings, no matter how pissed at him you were. And even though you are pissed at him, he still can’t help but admire you.

You’re upset, but you’re not physically assaulting him until he apologizes. You pinch him, give him a little scratch - sure. But that pain fades, at most leaving a small mark that fades in a day. You’re so utterly, bafflingly kind to him. Even when he’s being a dick.

He reaches out and scratches just behind your ear. Your ear twitches, but otherwise you show no reaction to his touch. He sighs. “I’m sorry for insulting your handiwork, my dear. You know your work better than anyone, and I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Your tail continues flicking back and forth a moment longer. But then you relent. You turn around and press your cheek into his hand, which he gladly glides along your soft fur. He’d asked once what it felt like to be pet like this. You’d said it was like a massage; like someone was scratching an itch you just couldn’t reach.

You step into his lap and plop right down, rubbing yourself into his abdomen with loud purrs. He chuckles. “Oh you sweet thing,” he coos. “What have I done to deserve you?”

---

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[lolitastories]

🪷WEDDING🪷

Rafe Cameron

“Mija, you can go on ahead to the club” I raise my head to watch my parents dressed up for something other than the country club. “We will meet you for dinner” My mother nods to my fathers words, sending a smile over to me.

“Remember to talk with Francine about the party” They didn’t wait for an answer, already halfway out the door. Ever since I could remember we barely spent time as a family. It was rare to get them at dinner so I knew that they weren’t going to be back for dinner. They remembered birthdays and holidays but other than that, nothing. They were there for some school events but I stopped letting them know about the few last ones my senior year because I felt like I was begging for attention.

“¡Bye Hon!” My dad screamed as the car backed up in the driveway. I closed the door and turned to get my purse.

“You need me to tell Jerry to get the other car ready?” I look over, shaking my head.

“No, thank you Ruby. I will drive myself today” She gives a gentle nod before walking away. As I get into the car I think of not even going but then I turn it one and I think I could skip the country club for today and maybe go to the beach? Then Francine comes to mind and I lose all hope of having a nice day by the waves. Once Francine sees me at the club she will make sure I stay there and I have to see her because she is part of a wedding I am helping plan. Francine is an old friend of my parents, like a second mother and since she has no kids she bestowed that onto me. I make my way to the club and before getting out of the car I take a deep breath and walk in.

“Miss, so glad to see you, how are your parents?” I jumped, hearing the enthusiastic voice from the club's host.

“They are doing great”

“That's amazing to hear, well enjoy your evening” He smiles quickly before running off to his next victims that were just walking in.

“Alone again?” I closed my eyes trying to calm my beating heart down again. People need to stop doing that.

“I feel like I should be reciting Shakespeare right now?” My head moved up seeing Rafe lean over the balcony. Light salmon pink shirt with a fresh buzz cut and the never missing gold ring. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” I lift my hand mocking chivalry. Rafe chuckles, shaking his head.

“So that makes me Juliet?” I shrug my shoulders

“Fuck that, there is no shame in a woman senerating a man” He stand up straight and with a smile, he looks down.

“Well continue my lady,”

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name;” Why was I giving it my all? I laugh inside at my stupidity right now. “Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

“You always had a way with words” He smiled leaning back to his original pose.

“Yes,” Our heads turn to see Francine walking over to me with an unamused look. “Words she decides to keep hidden,” I smile respectfully, giving her a hug. “Hello Rafe,” I held an amused grin on my face. She was literally throwing daggers at him. We knew she didn’t like him, can you blame her? Rafe has a reputation.

“Francine-” She didn’t wait for him to finish before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the club’s entrance and onto the garden.

“I thought you two were no longer friends”

“We are not,” I said rapidly, I lied quickly on my feet.

“I hope not, he's not a good boy for you my love,” Another smile, what I wanted to say was, “I know what i'm doing. I am too smart to fall for Rafe Cameron but if I did, I will take the blame” I only nod at her said advice. “Now, how about we talk about the wedding?” For a good hour I was following her along the country club and making notes on what exactly she wanted for the wedding. More flowers, clear chairs,mirrored floor, a release of butterflies, and no color other than sky blue and white of course.

“What were you thinking about the ceremony?” She lets out a quick squeal before rushing towards the cliff which was only a small hill with some height overlooking the beach. I walked quickly to see what she was pointing at with such a huge smile.

“We agreed on the beach,” I hear a contempt sigh leave her lips. Her shoulders fall and her eyes soften at the vision of the bride getting married there. “Can’t you see yourself there too?” Too focused on her happiness and excitement, her question caught me off guard. I look down again but quickly shake my head. “You have planned such beautiful weddings, where do you see yours?”

“I can’t set my mind on one,” I chuckled nervously. It wasn’t the whole truth but it wasn’t a lie. Of course I know what I have wanted for my future wedding since I was 6, but as a wedding planner there was one thing I hated the most about planning and it was the grooms. All they did was walk behind the bride, nodding and smiling. Agreeing on everything. I want to think it's to make them happy because a wedding was made out to be more for the bride but hearing the groom speak they let out subtle comments about no caring. I want my future husband to care. I want him to be present in what is the beginning of our future. I want him to be the bridezilla along with me.

“Well don’t settle for only this view” She pointed out. “You can have a destination wedding like somewhere in Italy.” Her eyes grow bigger, “Or the south of France!” She jumps giggling at her ideas. “I am going to go look at venues now, you know how easily they can book up!” There was really no use in saying it was too early to think about my wedding because nothing can change that woman's mind when she gets this excited about something.

“I need a drink-” I closed up my book and was ready to leave when I heard a voice from the shore.

“I got an extra beer” My gaze meets Rafe holding a beer up. “Is it too trashy for you my lady?” My eyes stay glued to him and a small smile appears on my face. “I don’t know any Shakespeare if that's what you want to hear” His arm slowly falls to his side. I look over to the country club and catch a glimpse through the window only to catch Francine rushing out of her office.

“Not trashy Cameron” I smile as I take a seat on the hill. “But I don’t drink beer,” I carefully push myself off and balance myself to walk down the steep hill until I am standing in front of Rafe.

“Worth a shot” He shrugs, putting the beer in his pocket. “I know you don’t drink at all.” I shake my head noticing he only had one beer in sight.

“Honey?!” Our heads turn toward the top of the hill to find no one there but the scream of my name becoming louder and louder. Francine can wait another day

“How about you offer me an escape?” With a glimmer in his eyes he grabs my hand and rush's us down the shore. I take a glimpse unsure of the object but as we move closer I start to laugh. “You bring this everywhere just in case?” My breath is shaky, I am not used to running. I look back seeing the figure of Francine screaming out to me but I choose to turn back to Rafe.

“Who knows when a lady needs my saving,” He puts out his hand for me to take and I oblige. He helps me up to a small row boat and I take a seat on the furthest end.

“Need help?” Rafe shakes his head pushing us offshore and he rushes to get in. “Daddy wouldn’t let you use his yacht?” I smile. I look over to the horizon, as the sun meets, perfectly creating an orange hue.

“No,” He groans, making me chuckle at his annoyance. “Don’t want to risk leaving it unsupervised since those pogue pulled their little stunt on Toppers”

“You always ruin it with your talk about pogues,” I roll my eyes looking back at him again. His arms stop rowing at his eyebrows furrowed.

“It 's true!. Little dirty pogues who don’t come close to us should be taught a lesson soon and for good” I never associated myself with what he would call somebody a pogue but that's because I don’t see them as such. My life has consisted of following my parents and at school and work I am only surrounded by people who are considered good. I never leave my bubble. But money or no money, people are people. As long as you are a good person, you are rich in my book.

“You know,” I look straight into his eyes. “You always mentioned how little Francine makes you feel, do you realize that's how you try to make them feel?”. His small smile falls into a straight line. “Would you want me to treat you less just because of some stupid status?”

“It's not the same, those pogues!-”

“Are human Rafe,” I let out a sigh knowing this conversation was just like the past. “Human beings who weren’t blessed with opportunities we have. They work day and night. It doesn’t matter what their bank account says if they have a good heart.” I move closer to him. “I know you have a good heart too Rafe.” I move my hand under his chin to pull him closer. “That's why I choose to disobey my parents and Francine once in awhile,”

“We tried this once already” He whispers. A slight smile appears on my face remembering how I like and feel having him this close.

“I still have hope,” His forehead rests on mine and a slow breath leaves him. “It was wrong of me to try to change you,” my thumbs caressing his skin.

“I was acting too proud and stubborn. Everybody saw me as such so it angered me.” He opens his eyes, putting a bit of space between us. “I was willing to try but I didn’t want to disappoint you”

“It wasn’t a choice for you to decide what is right for me. I told you I didn’t care about what anybody said and if it went down in flames, I could handle that.”

“But you don’t deserve-” his words paused as I came closer. My lips on his but only for a longing quick kiss to shut him up.

“You put yourself down when I see you more than worthy. Worth the eyes of people judging. Worth the scolding of my parents and definitely worth the hours of talk Francine is sure to give me” I hear his chuckle along with mine. “Do you think we should try this again?” He nodded eagerly, grabbing my neck and pulling me closer but I was quicker and set my hand between us first. “Rules”

“Fine” He groans, pulling apart. He shakes his head before turning his body towards me. “Date night twice a week,” My head falls back in annoyance. When we first tried having a relationship it was hard to adjust. I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend and Rafe knew this and decided to stick around. Of course, not being my boyfriend, I wasn't allowed to go out past 8. Not to any party or bonfire by the beach. I was also busy with school and starting my job as a planner to make time for him. That was bad on my part and we had a lot of fights because of it. I also didn’t like going out much, more of a homebody.

“Fine, but one at home date” He whispers okay. “No Pogue talk unless necessary” We need to talk about the important things first.

“Got it.” He smiled at that?. “When Francine is present you give me my place,” I roll my eyes.

“She is a strong woman but I promise.” I would defend him when need be and when it's reasonable. “but if I have to throw myself against her you have to promise not to back down when not only Francine stands against you” my parents can be a handful too. I watch as he stands up placing his hand on his chest. I laughed mostly because the boat was rocking unsteadily. “Rafe!” I hold on looking up at him again.

“It isn’t what we say or think that defines us, but what we do,” I stood up carefully and was shocked at his words.

“You don’t know Shakespeare but you do Jane Austen?”

“You left a copy of her book behind and I got bored,” I rolled my eyes knowing that wasn’t true. “But back to my confession,” I look back as we try our hardest to stay steady. “I will prove to them that I am willing to be someone they see worthy of you.” I walk closer, placing my arms around his neck.

“The only opinion you need is mine, and I think you are worthy” I whisper as he lowers his head to meet mine.

“I have seen enough!” I turn around shocked but only to see a blurry Francine at shore screaming towards me. “Get back here young lady!” Those were the only clear words heard before Rafe and I went flying into the water. My body resurfaced laughing at the action. I look around finding Rafe swimming towards me.

“Am not ready to face the world yet” I smile hopeful towards him.

“And am not ready to face Francine yet so how about we row away?” I nod turning towards the boat. “You don’t have a curfew?” I groan hearing his laugh from behind me. He pushes me up and I slide into the boat.

“Never got to be a rebel teen, I think I have some headaches to make up for,” I turn to help him climb in.

“Then let's go.” he smiles, taking his place and rowing away. “This is not a good look on my part.” He laughs looking back at Francine. “Will definitely be hearing about this,”

“Such a bad influence,” I grin looking at him. “Guess what?” His eyes sparkled hearing my giddy tone.

“I saved your beer” My grin grows bigger as he laughs. I throw him the can and with ease he catches it.

“That's my girl” his girl.

[flemingsfreckles]

Helping Hand

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: coming home from working as a mechanic, you notice a pretty girl struggling to change her tire.

Warnings: none

WC: 1.6k

A/N: this was inspired by how dirty I left work the other day, I don’t work as a car mechanic though but this was the easiest way to write the fic.

You had just finished a long shift at work, you felt disgusting. Your hands, arms and face were covered in a sticky and offputting mixture of grease, oil, hydraulic fluid, and likely just dirt. It was the worst part of your job working on heavy machinery in a shop you loved every second of it. Something about taking apart machines, finding the issue and putting it back together was like an exciting 3D puzzle.

As you walked down the sidewalk you noticed a girl, probably close to your age, bent over next to her car. It only takes a second to see what she’s doing, she’s changing a flat tire. Or at least she’s trying to change a flat tire.

You watch her as you continue to walk down the road in her direction, she seems a little confused, flipping through the car manual, picking up and placing down tools. It crosses your mind to help her. After the long day you had, you didn’t really want to do more work but it’s not like you had fully showered and were clean yet. Plus it didn’t hurt that the girl sitting on the ground was pretty and you were a sucker for brown haired girls.

As you approached her, you decided you’d offer the help. “Hey, I don’t mean to overstep, but would you like some help with that?”

The girl turns to you, her face is covered in freckles, her eyes soft. She takes a second, looking you up and down, her eyes lingering over the dirty patches on your clothes and skin. She gives you a smile and a wave. “Oh no, I’m good, thank you.” You notice her accent, she clearly wasn’t from around here.

“You sure? I don’t mind.” You can tell she’s confused and lost and you could see the girl giving up and calling a tow truck or maybe her boyfriend to come help her.

“Yeah I’m sure, thanks.” She gives you a quick glance before she turns back to working.

You then see something and realize now you can’t let this girl keep doing this on her own. So you take a step back, not wanting to overstep after she told you no twice, but still being around.

You can tell the girl knows you’re still behind her. She continues trying to work for a few minutes before she looks back at you, then back to the car, then back to you. She furrows her eyebrows in your direction, indicating her confusion on why you were still standing behind her.

“I’m just being a good citizen now. I’ll call 999 for you when your car falls off the jack that you set up all wrong.” You hold up your phone at her and give it a shake with a smile on your face.

“Oh.” The girl looks up at you then back at the car where it was being held off the ground. “Did I actually do it wrong?”

“Yeah you have it on the body, not on the frame.” You place down your bag and phone on the sidewalk and kneel down next to her. You point out to her that the car jack was just slightly off from where I should be set.

“So can I help you?”

“I guess, I just hate feeling like I can’t do things without someone else’s help. I’m not just a ditsy girl, I went to school for engineering.” You notice a frown on her face, it’s cute.

“Hey changing a tire isn’t something most people know how to do, they should, but most don’t. I really don’t mean for my offer of help to come off condescending. I definitely don’t think you’re ditsy. Most people would give up and call for a tow the second they see the flat tire, you at least were trying.” You give her a smile. She gives you a halfhearted grin.

“Yeah I guess, I just thought I was doing it right. So who taught you how to do this?” She’s turned to you, watching you move the jack on her car.

“I taught myself, but I do mechanics work for a job so, it’s really second nature.”

“Given how dirty you seem, I figured you worked on cars or maybe in a coal mine but I don’t know of any around here.” She makes a joke and looks at you, you can see her studying the lines of dirt across your face.

“Yeah sorry, I promise I tried to wash before I left work, the grease just never comes out.” You hold your hands out, flipping them over to show her. “So can I ask what your plan was going to be if you couldn’t get this yourself?”

“Probably a tow truck, or call Sam or something.” She shrugs. You feel a little deflated at the mention of a man, not that you expected the beautiful girl in front of you to have any interest but you held out a sliver of hope.

“Sam? Is he your boyfriend?” Hoping he was maybe just a friend and you wouldn’t have to completely abandon the idea of asking her out.

“Oh no, she’s my teammate. I feel like she’d know how to do this.” The girl pauses for a second. “I don’t date men.”

“Oh.” Your response accidentally coming out as if you were disappointed in her admitting she didn’t date men.

“Sorry I don’t know why I said that.”

“I don’t date men either.” You throw out the comment, both to make her feel more comfortable in the fact that she just came out on what seemed like accident, or that you wanted to let her know you were into women too.

“So teammate? What do you play?”

“Oh soccer, or football, I guess. I’m also obviously not from here, I’m from Canada hence the lack of accent or I guess to you it probably sounds like I have an accent.”

“What made you move?” You couldn’t help but ask, it wasn’t everyday that you run into someone from another country, let alone one so far away.

“Also soccer.”

“Oh? Really?” You rack your brain wondering if there were other football fans that would move to London just to be near the Premier League teams, which sounded crazy to you.

“What do you do for work? You said you went to school for engineering, is that what you do?”

The girl laughs and her laugh is sweet, it sounds like sunshine. “Will you think I’m a liar if I tell you soccer?”

“Really? Like, you play professionally?”

“Yes.”

“That makes more sense, I just thought you were a diehard fan and moved to watch the games, which I realize now is incredibly stupid to consider. I don’t really follow football, too much running for me. But it’s obviously a popular game around here.” You hear her laugh at your thought process, her laugh is suddenly becoming one of your favorite sounds.

She let you work in silence for a bit. Once you got the jack set up in the right spot it was a quick process to put the spare on. She asked questions here and there, a little about your job, a little about what you were doing to her car.

“When you put the new one on, you have to tighten the bolts in a star pattern, see.” You demonstrate how to correctly tighten the wheel on to the car. “That way it’s not angled and doesn’t put any uneven force on your axel.”

“And there you go!” You hold your hands out as if you’ve just created a masterpiece painting and were displaying it. It had only taken a couple of minutes for you to change the girls tire, you hoped you weren’t holding her up from her plans. She helps clean up, grabbing some of the tools while you lowered the jack and her car back to the ground. You pick up the flat tire and walk it around to where she had the trunk open, placing it inside.

“Thank you again, I really owe you.” She says as her hand reaches to close the hatch of her car.

“Do you by chance like coffee?” It was a completely out of the blue question, but you couldn’t help but ask, hoping it would lead you in the direction of a date.

She looks at her watch and back up to you with confusion on her face. “I do. But isn’t it a little late for coffee?”

“Oh no, I don’t mean today. Maybe sometime this week or weekend if you’re interested, I could take you out to a cafe I like?” Giving her your best convincing smile, you were hoping she’d say yes.

“Wait but I’m supposed to be taking you out, you fixed my car and all.” The girl points at the spare tire on her car.

“I technically didn’t fix it, you still need a new tire. Don’t drive too far on that spare. If you need shop recommendations I know a few good ones in the area that won’t try and upsell you on stupid stuff just because you’re a woman.”

“That would be great.”

“Why don’t you give me your number so I can send you a few places?”

“Wow. Smooth.” She says as she takes your phone putting her name into your phone. And she hands it back to you. You read her contact.

“Jessie Fleming.” You read off her name. The name feels slightly familiar, probably just from jerseys or the radio or tv, you’re not sure but you don’t care to know her as famous footballer Jessie Fleming, you like her as the sweet brown hair brown eyes girl you helped out.

“That’s me.”

You tell her your name and stick out your hand to shake hers, you look down at it, doing your best to wipe it on your jeans before extending your hand again. “I promise my hands are clean, with the exception of maybe any dirt from your tire.”

“It was great to meet you, Jessie, I’ll be sure to text those recommendations and I’ll expect you to tell me when you’re not busy being a professional athlete and I can take you on a coffee date.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Have a good night Jessie!” You say to her before turning to finish your walk down the street. For a second you think about googling the girl but then decide against it when her name pops up on your phone.

Jessie Fleming ⚽️: I have a match in town Saturday but I’ll be free all day Sunday if that works for you?

You: sounds like a date!

You smiled as you typed and sent the message. You had a date and a sudden new interest in women’s football.

[thefangirlfever]

"Let me keep you warm"(a Miguel O'hara NSFW story, 18+)

Summary: What would happen if the two of you spend the night in a cabin during a snow storm?

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, F/M, dad bod Miguel, oral sex (F. receiving), married couple, breast play (slightly), masturbation, face sitting, curvy y/n

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The two of you were cuddling in front of the fireplace while the storm kept raging outside. You’ve been taken by surprise by the weather and since the beginning of the storm, the power has run out in the cabin. There were some candles in the cellar that you used to light up the room and you could also rely on the fireplace’s light and warmth.

Even so, your body was slightly shivering under the covers. Miguel was hugging you from behind, his strong arms circling your much smaller silhouette, holding you close enough to keep you warm and still being gentle with you as if you were made of glass. He knew that the storm was worrying you and he was trying his best to reassure you. One of his hands kept stroking your hair while whispering sweet nothings, trying to keep your attention away from what was going on inside. Still, your eyes would often linger on the window. There was something mesmerizing in this eerie landscape, as white and pure as a pearl. You were both fascinated and frightened by this sight. Feeling your body shivering, Miguel’s arms held you tighter and he planted a quick kiss on the top of your head. His eyes also looked at the window but he didn’t seem as impressed as you. He just sighed.

“I’ll have to shovel all the snow tomorrow I guess…”

You scoffed at his so-practical mind, which made him smile softly. As long as you were not scared, he didn’t mind shoveling as much snow as possible the next day. His mouth didn’t leave your head and instead he gave one quick kiss to your ear and then to your nape, making a few hair standing up.

“Miguel...do you think it’s the right moment for that?”

Even if you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling. His lips kept giving some quick pecks to your skin, carefully moving your hair to the side.

“Of course. It’s just the two of us, trapped in the middle of the woods… It’s like we’re all alone in the world.”

“I didn’t know that you were such a romantic.”, you teased him. Even if you rolled your eyes at his words, you were clearly amused. When his hands slipped under the blanket and began to run up and down your back, you didn’t move away. His hands were surprisingly warm, while you’ve been feeling like an ice cube all the time you spend in this place. Even if you already knew it, it still surprised you every time, just how warm his body constantly was. You were not shy to say the word. Miguel just felt comfortable and he knew it, whether it was good or bad for you was still up to decide. It could be quite delightful to come back home after a long day of work and just lay your head on his tummy, let him cradle you in his arms and make the little spoon out of you. But sometimes he knew you were unable to resist him in these conditions and he didn’t shy away from using these advantages.

“Romantic? If you could read my thoughts right now, I don’t think you would call me this way.”, he teased you back while his fingertips ran over your spine. His hand tugged at the hem of your shirt and you felt his fingertips on the small of your back. Your ears perked up at his words and took a pink hue, which you couldn’t hide from him in this position. Miguel was ruthless in these moments; he just knew it wouldn’t take a lot of time for you to indulge in this moment.

“Maybe this storm is even a good thing? It’s been such a long time since I had you all for myself…”

You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. It’s been so long since the two of you have had a moment for yourselves and these holidays were supposed to be the occasion to catch up on this time. Yes, life has kept you busy these last months, work has been hectic and you were often too tired to do anything. Miguel never pressured you into doing anything against your well-being or that could deprive you of some well-deserve rest. But that didn’t mean you didn’t want something to happen. In fact, you had some ideas on how to spend these holidays… Everything was supposed to be perfect, romantic in every way… and this stupid storm ruined everything. This simple thought frustrated you even more. Feeling your body tense, Miguel kept massaging your back, rubbing his hands over you in slow, circular motions. He knew it was frustrating for you since you had planned everything so well, and he appreciated your efforts. But he didn’t need all that and he was determined to prove it to you.

Miguel’s lips kept kissing your neck, even gently nibbling on it. You were slowly feeling your body getting warmer, especially one area.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it…”

Well, you did think about it. Honestly, at some point you were only thinking about this, especially after weeks of inactivity.

“Maybe, I did…”, you answered quietly. Miguel smiled against your skin as he pulled you closer to him. The blanket fell from your shoulders and his hands snaked up higher on your back. Your shirt slowly lifted up, revealing more of your skin and Miguel smirked, noticing that you didn’t have a bra on.

“You’re really making this almost too easy for me.” His fingertips brushed against your spine, making you shiver. He took his time admiring your body squirm under his touch, the way the freckles and moles on your back seemed to dance against your skin, looking like a constellation. Under your skin, your ribs were heaving up and down at a slow pace, just like your breathing had slowed down. Miguel couldn’t fight back the urge to wrap his hands around them, feeling how thin your skin was, how you were shaking so slightly… His hands kept moving higher, soon resting under your chest, feeling your heartbeat under his fingers. After weeks spend without touching you, or at least not how he was dreaming of, he felt like he could get drunk from your skin.

“I need to see you. Please…”, he whispered in the crook of your neck.

In the silence of the room, only the noise of the fire cracking could be heard. You slowly lifted your arms, not making any other move, letting him take control of the situation. Despite his craving for your body, he managed to slowly take your shirt off. He tossed the fabric on the side without a lot of care, his eyes too focused on you. The fire was creating shadows on your body, highlighting every curve there was to see. You were sweating a little and he could feel it, smell it, just like he could feel the warmth of your body. None of that bothered him, quite the opposite. It was the proof that you were there, real and more beautiful than ever. Wherever his fingers were caressing you, its shadow was clearly visible on your skin and you couldn’t help but follow him with your eyes.

“I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed you…” He didn’t need to tell you. His hands were speaking for him as he gently cupped your breasts, feeling their weight and the texture of your skin. He took his time feeling them as if it was his first time discovering them. In fact he knew them by heart at this point, just like the rest of your body. But that didn’t stop him from following the blue veins under your skin with his fingertips. Finally his calloused fingertips reached the center of your breasts and brushed against your nipples. You felt your body stiffen at his touch. You’ve never felt this sensitive in such a long time. It felt like waking up from a very long nap.

“I’ve missed that too…”, you answered quietly. Miguel nibbled your ear, watching with a growing excitement your body responding to his teasing.

“How bad did you miss it?”

Bad. You missed it so bad and it’s easy to read this hunger in your eyes. You turn your head and watch Miguel’s expression. He looks as hungry as you, if not more. Both your faces are close enough for you to kiss but he refuses you his lips and instead keeps nibbling on your earlobe, teasing you between each bite:

“Show me. Show me how you’ve missed it. I want to see what you were doing when I couldn’t take care of you.”

You were more than happy to know that you could ease the aching burn in your lower body. Since Miguel has started touching you, you felt yourself getting wet. You were so responsive, so needy that you obediently lowered you pajama pants, exposing a wet patch in the middle of your underwear. Miguel groaned at the sight before kissing your skin end encouraging you to keep going. With your eyes closed, you slide your finger up and down, feeling your swollen lips and the wetness spreading down there. You were taking your time and Miguel didn’t rush you, enjoying the show you were giving him. When you finally slipped one finger inside your underwear, he finally said something:

“Take it off please… I want to see it.” One of his hands held your left thigh and moved it to the side, spreading your legs further as you kept undressing. You may have been naked in this moment, but you’ve never felt hotter. Your sweat kept dribbling in small droplets over the curves of your body, down to the patch of brown pubic hair between your thighs. Your arousal was glistening on the brown little bush and when you parted your lips, a sharp contrast appeared between your slick, pink and puffy lips and the tuft of hair.

“So pretty…”, Miguel whispered in awe. His hands were dying to touch you but the sight of your fingers moving between your little forest, diving into this little river made his breath heavier.

At first, you were hesitant, almost shy but the more you were remembering these long nights of solitude and this frustration, the deeper you delved into your throbbing cunt. You were knuckles deep inside your hole, your thumb brushing against your clit, and you were soon panting. No matter how hard you tried, how fast you were fingering yourself, you would never achieve the same sensation as when he was inside you. And he knew it. He knew what you were craving, what you wanted and he would make you say it, ask for it.

You were so close and yet you didn’t reach your peak. You could almost feel your orgasm slipping between your fingers. The more you chase it, the further it ran away, leaving you a mess, your fingers covered in your juice and still this craving sensation inside of you, like an itch that needed to be scratched but you couldn’t reach it. Miguel sensed your desperation; he saw your face crunched up in a grimace of agony, your lips slightly parted in an annoyed grunt. He kissed your neck one last time and whispered:

“Let me take care of that.”

He was more than eager to help you. These weeks had also left him needy and frustrated. No matter how much he tried to relieve himself of that pressure, this was never enough. What he needed was not to just empty himself, to give into this release, but you. He wanted you. With one gentle move of his hands, he helped you lie down on the fuzzy carpet. You were facing him and the fire kept projecting his soft shadows on your body. He didn’t even know where to begin with you. Everything he saw, every single part of you seemed to call him, to ask for his attention. He quickly removed his flannel shirt and a soft sound escape your lips. You stretched your arms, as if you were asking for him to embrace you, to let you lie down his powerful chest. His eyes kept roaming your body and he undid his pants with such an urgency that his fingers were almost shaking and he had to try twice to unbuckle them. Once his body was finally free of his clothes, he finally leaned over you. You’ve missed the way his body was crushing you, engulfing you, wrapping around perfectly as if he tried to cut you from the rest of the world. You were calling his name, pleading for him to suffocate you even.

“I’m here mi Vida. I’m coming...I’m coming…” His lips met yours in a heated kiss while you kept on stroking his hair. Once he had broken the kiss, Miguel gave your lower lip one playful bite and he began to trace his way down your body. His lips didn’t neglect any part of you and all this time, he never stopped looking at you. When his lips reached your navel, he could smell your arousal oozing from between your legs. It was intoxicating, bittersweet and just like some rich honey. He couldn’t stop himself from taking a bite…

Miguel’s hands slipped under your butt and he grabbed it, lifting you slightly from the ground until your lips were connected. He took his time kissing your womanhood, his lips grazing your mound, your inner thighs… His thick tongue made its way between your folds, exploring every inch of you, tasting you like you were some ripe and juicy fruit. He was eating you like a starved man with no consideration from the mess he was doing on himself as your cyprine leaked down his chin and made his lips glisten. As if this wasn’t already too much for you, he never stopped looking at you all this time. His face buried between your thighs with his eyes only poking out, looking at you in awe. The sounds he was making while eating you out only added to your pleasure and you squeezed your thighs around his face. Only muffled sounds reached your ears as he kept moving his tongue, deeper and deeper. Frustrated to not reach your spot, he lifted your hips higher, your legs hanging around his neck as he kept lapping at your juice like an animal. You were moving your hips in rhythm with his lips and the more you kept moving, the more you felt hot, almost burning. But it was worth it. Still, Miguel couldn’t stand the sight of you working so hard when he just wanted to pleasure you like you deserved it after all this time.

“This won’t do it. I want to feel you deeper…” He gave your lips one teasing lick before dragging you closer to him. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was, but not in these moments. Without any struggle, he lifted you and pressed your body against his.

“Miguel, what are you doing?” You were still a little dizzy from your last game and you didn’t understand why he made you move, especially since you were quite enjoying what the two of you were doing.

“I think there’s something we could try… and that would be more enjoyable for you.”

Nothing good ever comes out from his wicked smile, and that’s why you liked seeing it on his face so much.

“Is it really going to be enjoyable for me or just for you?”, you asked with a teasing smile. Miguel chuckled at your insinuation and kissed your neck once again, while holding the other side of your face with his hand. You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, strands of hair clinging to your forehead and the skin of your neck turning moist from your sweat. This didn’t stop Miguel to kiss you hungrily. His own body seemed to glisten in this light, revealing golden undertones to his tan skin. Your skins rubbed against one another, your scents mixing into one heady aroma that you would take to you sheets for the rest of the night.

Miguel’s teeth dragged along your skin, tasting your essence until he reached your pulse. Purple and red marks had bloomed on your neck from his caress and he delighted himself, knowing that the next day you would wear the proof of his love. His lips kissed the part of your neck where he could feel your pulse. His lips trapped your heart and he whispered:

“I think it could be very enjoyable for the two of us.”

You smiled against his temple and replies: “What do you have in mind?”

“I want you to sit on my face. I need to feel you deeper.”

This seemed really tempting but you’ve never tried this before. In fact, you were a little afraid that your weight could be a problem. You looked at your body and Miguel’s eyes followed yours. With a gentle motion of his hand, he tilted your head up. His eyes looked for yours, trying to reassure you. He patiently listened to your explanations, to yours fears and as much as he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he also craved this contact. You thought you would be too heavy for him? That you would crush him? Hell, he’d die a happy man if he met his death between your legs.

And that’s how you ended up sitting on his face. You were very careful to not crush him but that wasn’t enough for Miguel. He grabbed your hips and made you sit on him, really sit on him. Just when you were wondering if it wasn’t too much, you heard a muffled moan coming from between your legs. As much as you were embarrassed, you had to recognize that it was indeed as enjoyable as Miguel said it would be. His hungry lips were sucking on your cunt, drinking down from your hole as if he had stayed thirsty for too long. Your mound was rubbing perfectly with his strong nose every time your grind your hips, something you quickly took the rhythm for. Your hands grabbed his hair in a tight fist as you rode the wave, feeling yourself getting higher with each stroke of his tongue. Your moans joined in unison and Miguel’s tongue was danging against your clit, making the little nub stiffen more and more...until you couldn’t take it anymore. You erupted on his face and if you weren’t already dizzy with all this heat, you would have swear you heard him laughing.

On his side, it seemed that he had enjoyed this as much as you. It was impossible to not spot his hard-on as you slowly left his face. Miguel just gave you one look and you knew that this night was far from over.

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I hope you enjoyed this new episode of "Dad bod Miguel O'hara does naughty things to you"™ I have other ideas for him.

Edit: thanks for the 200 likes ~~