#Oh wow I actually drew her body

[dynasty889]

redraw of Artemis and Callisto kissing

[51voices]

Three's a Thrill

Kinkvember Day 6: Threesome

Dreamcatcher Kim Yoohyeon x Kim JiU (Minji) x Female reader/OC

(Reader has some body modification for plot purposes)

AN: A little late on this one, classes have been kicking my butt.

“I bet they’re a writer or something,” JiU mused, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Or maybe a chef,” you countered with a grin. “Someone who’ll invite us over for tastings.”

JiU laughed, the sound light and familiar. “Oh wow, could you imagine? Think of all the food we’d get to try.”

With that, you both made your way up the path to the new neighbor’s house, footsteps echoing lightly against the quiet surroundings. The house next door had been empty for months, and the curiosity had been building between you two. JiU’s excitement was clear as she climbed the front steps, flashing her trademark smile. With a firm knock, she announced your arrival.

The door swung open to reveal a young woman with shoulder-length hair, dark eyes and a welcoming smile that instantly put you at ease.

“Hello! A fresh face in the neighborhood. Welcome” JiU greeted warmly, extending her hand.

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she shook JiU’s hand. “Hi, I'm Yoohyeon. It’s so nice to meet you both—I’ve been hoping to connect with my neighbors.”

JiU stepped back slightly, gesturing toward you. “I’m Kim Minji, but you can call me JiU, and this is my lovely wife.” Her smile softened as she brushed her hand over your shoulder in an affectionate, natural gesture that made your bond clear. Feeling a bit shy but warmed by the gesture, you extended a hand to greet Yoohyeon.

Yoohyeon’s eyes flickered with surprise before softening. In the conservative country they lived in, it was rare for same sex couples to introduce themselves so openly. She admired the quiet confidence you both shared, comforted by how natural your expressions of love felt. Smiling back, she felt an unexpected sense of kinship.

“It’s really nice to meet you both,” Yoohyeon said sincerely, excitement lacing her tone. “I just moved in and am still finding my way around, but it already feels more like home knowing I have such friendly neighbors.”

JiU chuckled and glanced at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, we’ve definitely been in your shoes. The first week we moved here, I couldn’t even remember which bus line went where,” she laughed. “So, how’s settling in going?”

Yoohyeon looked around her cozy entryway, decorated in a warm, minimalist style. “It’s been… a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. I’m actually an English teacher, so between commuting, learning where everything is, and getting the house in order, I’m still finding my rhythm.”

“Oh, an English teacher! That’s wonderful,” you said warmly, your interest clear in your voice. “Moving can feel overwhelming at first, but if you need anything—a ride, directions, or even a café recommendation—we’re just next door.”

“Thank you so much! That’s really kind of you,” Yoohyeon replied, visibly relieved. “I’d love to know more about the neighborhood. Any local gems?”

“Oh, plenty!” JiU’s smile widened. “There’s an amazing bakery just around the corner. Their strawberry mochi is to die for, they always sell out early. And there’s also a café a few blocks down called Insomnia Café that makes the best iced caramel lattes in town.”

“Those sound incredible; I can’t wait to try them out,” Yoohyeon said, mentally noting the recommendations. Then, with a curious look, she asked, “And you two? What do you do for work?”

JiU exchanged an amused look with you, a hint of mystery in her eyes. “Oh, we mostly work from home,” she said with a slight, knowing smile that felt almost deliberate.

You added with a playful glimmer, “It gives us a lot of freedom to travel and enjoy life—a definite perk,” leaving Yoohyeon to wonder if there was more to your work than met the eye.

“That sounds amazing,” Yoohyeon replied, intrigued but not wanting to press. She sensed a layer of mystery between you two, but also a warmth—a quiet, unspoken connection that drew her in, as though she’d found friends as unique as they were welcoming.

The conversation continued, covering everything from the best local grocery stores to the quirks of the nearby subway lines. JiU’s stories were punctuated with laughter, and though you were quieter, you leaned in occasionally with thoughtful comments and small, knowing glances that spoke volumes. The closeness between you two was undeniable—a shared understanding that filled the air with ease.

After a while, JiU glanced at you and gave a slight nod. “Well, we’ll leave you to get settled,” she said warmly. “We just wanted to stop by to say hello and welcome you. Don’t hesitate to come by if you need anything or just want to chat.”

As you and JiU turned to leave, Yoohyeon found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement settling in her chest. Watching you both walk away, she couldn’t shake the thrill of having such warm, intriguing people right next door. She felt a spark—maybe this move would bring more than she’d initially expected.

-----

One late evening, Yoohyeon stood by her bedroom window, drawn to the quiet charm of the night. The neighborhood lay still, each house settled into its evening calm, with only the occasional faint glow of a light here or there. She often enjoyed these solitary moments, gazing out at the world beyond her window and letting her mind wander.

Tonight, her gaze drifted almost involuntarily toward JiU and your home, the upstairs bedroom window just visible from where she stood. Yoohyeon’s eyes narrowed as she noticed movement in the soft, dim light seeping through the curtains. Curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t help but look closer. She could make out the silhouettes of JiU and you, laughing together, leaning against the wall, faces flushed as you playfully nudged each other.

As her eyes adjusted to the faint light, the details became clearer: JiU, with her tousled hair falling loose, dressed in a simple sports bra and shorts, while you wore a fitted tank top and briefs. A light sheen on your skin hinted that you’d both been dancing or wrestling playfully. The sight was so candid, so deeply intimate, that Yoohyeon felt like an unintentional intruder. She should have looked away, yet something about the relaxed, unguarded way you shared this private moment kept her eyes fixed.

JiU’s arm slipped around your waist, faces close enough to be nearly nose-to-nose, both of you laughing softly, as though sharing a secret. There was something mesmerizing about the ease between you two, a mutual warmth that Yoohyeon could almost feel across the distance. A blush crept up her cheeks, her heartbeat quickening in response to the scene unfolding before her.

Realizing her gaze had lingered too long, Yoohyeon tore her eyes away, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—a faint stirring in her core that surprised her. She had known JiU and you as the friendly, slightly mysterious couple next door, but tonight, witnessing this side of you stirred something unfamiliar, something undeniably thrilling within her.

She took a deep breath and sank onto her bed, willing herself to forget what she had just seen. Determined to shake the image from her mind, she picked up her phone and scrolled through social media, hoping to distract herself with harmless videos and updates. But her mind kept wandering back to the way you’d looked at each other, the comfortable closeness, and the undeniable spark between you.

Frustrated, Yoohyeon switched apps, almost without realizing it, and found herself on an adult site. She felt a bit silly, yet the warmth that had built inside her urged her to seek some release. As she scrolled through thumbnails, nothing seemed to capture the raw, genuine intimacy she’d just witnessed between you and JiU. Every other video felt strangely hollow by comparison.

Just as she was about to put her phone away, a particular thumbnail caught her eye. The resemblance to you and JiU was uncanny—the same dark hair, the same air of easy intimacy she’d glimpsed from her window. A forbidden thrill stirred within her as she hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen before she tapped “play,” her heart racing as the video loaded.

Through her headphones, JiU’s voice murmured gently, as if meant just for her. “Are you ready?” she asked, her tone full of warmth and teasing care. Yoohyeon’s heart fluttered as the image on-screen filled her mind.

Then, as her gaze drifted over your figure on the screen, her heart suddenly skipped a beat. A flash of metal caught her eye—a nipple piercing, gleaming softly against your skin. Yoohyeon’s pulse raced. She’d had no idea you had such a bold, hidden side. There had never been a hint of body art or piercings in your everyday appearance, and this quiet, thrilling detail felt like a secret unveiled.

Her breath caught, surprise mingling with fascination. Body modifications had always intrigued her, and this little discovery seemed to reveal something new about you—a quiet strength, a hidden edge, something both beautiful and daring.

Yoohyeon’s pulse quickened, her body tingling with anticipation as her hand slipped between her legs, moving in sync with JiU’s careful touch on the screen. JiU’s hands traced slow, tantalizing circles over your skin, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The rhythm was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and Yoohyeon found herself mirroring the pace, her breaths shallow as she matched JiU’s gentle, precise touches.

Her senses drifted, pulled deeper into the intimacy unfolding before her. JiU’s sultry voice seemed to reach through the screen, drawing Yoohyeon closer. Each whispered word and soft caress felt like an invitation, coaxing her further into your shared world. As the camera lingered on your face, lips parted with a soft, breathless sigh, Yoohyeon felt herself lost in the vulnerability of the moment, each delicate sound heightening her own arousal.

Her gaze flickered between you and JiU, her fingers moving faster as the tension within her grew. The way your body responded—the subtle tremble, eyes fluttering shut as JiU held you on the edge—felt almost sacred, an intimacy that sent shivers through her. Yoohyeon bit her lip, her breaths quickening as her release approached, caught up in the magnetic pull of your connection.

Finally, as JiU brought you to climax, Yoohyeon heard her gentle voice again, murmuring, “Are you close, baby?… Yes, you can cum. Cum for me, my sweetie.” Yoohyeon’s body surged with her own release, her fingers pressing down as a stifled moan escaped her lips, waves of pleasure flooding over her. She lay there for a moment, head spinning, still basking in the lingering warmth. It felt surreal, as if she’d shared in something intimate with you—an unexpected closeness that stayed with her, even after the video faded to black.

In the days that followed, Yoohyeon found herself drawn back to JiU and your videos, watching with a growing intensity. She became captivated by the smallest gestures between you—the way JiU’s hand lingered on your cheek, or the soft laugh you’d give in response to her teasing. The catalog of videos became her private indulgence, something she turned to each evening, a ritual that filled the quiet spaces in her life.

Yet, the more she watched, a subtle ache grew within her—a yearning she couldn’t quite put into words. She’d watch each video, hoping to make sense of her feelings, but it only left her wanting more. This wasn’t just attraction; it was a craving for the deep bond she witnessed, a connection that seemed almost unattainable. And as she realized this, a creeping guilt began to take hold.

What am I even doing? she’d mutter to herself, torn between the comfort she found in the videos and the nagging feeling that she’d crossed an invisible line. They’d posted these videos for people to see, she reasoned; it’s not as if I’m invading their privacy. But the rationalization felt thin, a flimsy excuse for the thrill she felt in watching.

They wanted people to see this, right? she’d tell herself, trying to believe it; otherwise, why share something so intimate? But the sense of trespass lingered. She knew she should stop, that she needed to let this go. And yet, the pull of your bond, and the warmth it brought her, was something she wasn’t sure she could resist.

Outside of these moments, her days began to feel increasingly hollow. Work felt tedious, gatherings with friends left her restless, as if nothing could break the hold you and JiU had on her mind. And the more she tried to ignore the videos, the emptier she felt, like a crucial part of herself was missing.

When Yoohyeon returned home one day, the emptiness she’d tried to ignore settled back over her. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t return to those videos, yet her mind drifted, thinking of the warmth and passion she’d witnessed through her screen. She tried to distract herself, scrolling through social media and tidying her apartment, but her thoughts always circled back to you both.

Her routines had become dull, a monotonous hum against the vivid memories she replayed. Each night felt longer and lonelier, the quiet of her apartment amplifying the ache within her. And so, once again, she found herself at her bedroom window, gaze drifting toward your house, drawn to the only place that seemed to promise any relief.

Through the soft glow of your bedroom curtains, Yoohyeon could see your silhouettes, leaning close, bodies entwined in a quiet, intimate moment. Her heart skipped a beat, a thrill racing through her as she watched, her eyes fixed on your faces mere inches apart, bodies pressed together in a gentle embrace.

I shouldn’t be watching this, she told herself, but her body didn’t move. She rationalized that it was harmless, that it wasn’t wrong to watch from her own window. But part of her knew better. This was a private moment, and she was an uninvited guest. Yet the pull was magnetic, each glimpse deepening her curiosity, a live show she couldn’t resist.

Each night, Yoohyeon found herself back at the window, drawn into the private world you and JiU shared. Sometimes, you simply laughed over a glass of wine or leaned into each other, speaking softly. Other times, the moments were charged, your touches tender yet powerful, holding her in place as a silent witness to something she knew she couldn’t reach.

Over time, this ritual became a comfort, enough to carry her through her days. She tried to distract herself with work, with friends, but nothing compared to these glimpses. Eventually, the temptation grew stronger. She ordered a pair of compact binoculars, her heart racing as she unwrapped them. She knew it was wrong, that this was a step too far, but the thrill of watching, of catching each movement and expression, was irresistible. Through the lens, everything became vivid—every glance, each soft touch, every shared smile between you and JiU.

Deep down, she knew she’d crossed a line, but the quiet connection she felt each night kept her tethered to the window, watching, even as guilt lingered beneath her excitement.

-----

A few days later, while tending to the flowers in her front yard, Yoohyeon heard a soft clearing of the throat. Turning, she saw JiU leaning casually against the fence, a warm smile brightening her face.

“Hey, Yoohyeon,” JiU greeted, her gaze sweeping over the flowerbeds. “The flowers look beautiful. You’ve really brought some life to the neighborhood.” Her tone was light, yet the compliment carried an unexpected warmth.

“Oh, thanks!” Yoohyeon replied, brushing a petal with her fingers and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping JiU wouldn’t notice the blush rising in her cheeks.

JiU stepped a little closer, her presence filling the space between them. “Listen,” she began, voice warm and inviting, “Y/N and I were talking, and if you’re free tonight, maybe you’d like to come over for dinner? It’d be nice to have a proper evening together, just us neighbors.” Her gaze was intent, as if searching for something in Yoohyeon’s reaction.

Yoohyeon’s breath caught, her mind racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Oh—dinner? Sure, I’d love that,” she managed, her voice trembling slightly.

JiU’s smile deepened, her gaze softening as if reassured by Yoohyeon’s answer. “Perfect,” she replied, her voice a touch lower. “Come by around seven; we’ll keep it cozy.” She held Yoohyeon’s gaze a moment longer, leaving Yoohyeon’s heart fluttering in anticipation.

The hours before dinner seemed to stretch and then fly by. Yoohyeon agonized over what to wear, searching for something casual yet flattering. Nervous energy buzzed in her stomach as she made her way up your front steps. When she knocked, her heart pounded, and JiU answered almost instantly, her face lighting up.

“Come on in! You look lovely,” JiU said, her voice rich with warmth as she ushered Yoohyeon inside. A faint scent of spices filled the air, mingling with a subtle floral aroma that heightened Yoohyeon’s awareness of every detail.

You appeared from the kitchen with a tray of small appetizers, smiling as you waved. “Hey, Yoohyeon. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, setting the tray down with a gentle laugh that only added to the inviting ambiance.

JiU handed Yoohyeon a glass of water, their fingers brushing just briefly. The touch sent a spark through Yoohyeon, and she couldn’t help but think of the way she’d watched those fingers move through her binoculars—the gentle, sensual touch. She took a quick sip of water, hoping to cool the flush on her cheeks. Her gaze flickered around the cozy living room, catching the glow of candlelight casting soft shadows along the walls.

“So, Yoohyeon,” JiU’s voice broke through her thoughts, grounding her. “How’s work treating you? Settling in alright?” JiU’s question felt warm, an invitation for Yoohyeon to open up.

“Oh, yeah, it’s been good,” Yoohyeon replied, grateful for the shift in topic. “Teaching is always an adventure. The kids keep it interesting.” She laughed softly, feeling herself relax. “They’re unpredictable, but that’s part of what makes it so rewarding.”

JiU nodded thoughtfully. “Teaching must take a lot of patience. I admire that,” she said, a hint of humor in her tone. “I think I’d run out of it in ten minutes.”

You chuckled, nudging JiU. “You’d last five minutes. Tops.”

The three of you laughed, and conversation began to flow easily, each of you sharing stories from different corners of life. As JiU shared a story about getting hopelessly lost on the subway, laughter filled the room, each of you letting down your guard a little more.

At some point, JiU’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Do you have any tattoos, Yoohyeon?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yoohyeon smiled, lifting her shirt slightly to reveal a delicate script along her ribs. “It says ‘Liberté, with a small bird.”

“Liberté,” JiU murmured, leaning in to look. “That’s beautiful. It really suits you.” Her voice was low, almost intimate, and Yoohyeon felt a thrill in her chest. Emboldened, she asked, “Do you have any?”

JiU smiled, tugging her collar to reveal a dreamcatcher tattoo on her shoulder. “To remind me to hold onto what matters and let go of the rest.”

“It’s beautiful,” Yoohyeon said softly, unable to shake the image of tracing the tattoo with her fingers. She glanced over at you, curiosity sparking. “How about you?”

You chuckled, glancing at JiU with a playful roll of your eyes. “No tattoos here. Minji’s tried to convince me, but I don’t think I could handle the pain.”

“Oh, she’s terrified,” JiU teased, nudging you affectionately. “But I think she’d look great with one.” The words lingered, stirring an amused smile as Yoohyeon joined in the laughter, her own inhibitions slipping away.

In the warmth of the moment, Yoohyeon suddenly blurted out, “Honestly, a tattoo would hurt a lot less than your piercings.” Her hand gestured toward your chest, lingering just a second too long. Realizing the implication, her cheeks flushed deeply.

Your eyes widened, a blush spreading as you exchanged a look with JiU. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she turned back to Yoohyeon, eyes gleaming. She leaned forward, eyebrow raised.

“Oh? And how do you know about my wife’s piercings, Yoohyeon?” JiU’s voice was smooth, her words dripping with amusement, making Yoohyeon flush under her steady gaze.

Heat flooded Yoohyeon’s cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean to… I just… I, um…” she stammered, avoiding your gaze.

Beside her, you blushed, looking to JiU, finding comfort in her knowing smile.

JiU leaned closer to Yoohyeon, her tone softening. “So Yoohyeon, Do you like watching our videos” she murmured, tracing gentle circles on Yoohyeon’s arm, She was silent but nodded “Hmm If you want,you could be part of the real thing.” Her eyes held Yoohyeon’s, the invitation clear.

Yoohyeon looked at you, feeling the weight of the invitation. She hesitated, her gaze softening. “Are you… really okay with this?” she asked gently.

Meeting Yoohyeon’s gaze, you smiled softly, reassuring her. “I wouldn't be opposed”

JiU’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as her fingers brushed Yoohyeon’s arm. “So, what do you say?” she asked warmly. “Would you like to be part of our world?”

The room felt charged, each moment more intense. Yoohyeon took a breath, meeting JiU’s gaze with a smile.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, her voice soft, filled with both excitement and nerves.

As you make your way down the dim hallway, everything feels hushed and close, like the world’s gone quiet around the three of you. Yoohyeon walks between you and JiU, her hand clasped tightly in yours, her breathing just a bit quick, her fingers trembling slightly. JiU’s hand rests gently on her shoulder, steady and warm.

When you reach the bedroom, Yoohyeon pauses, taking a small step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. She presses her lips together, then glances up, her cheeks flushing as she searches for the right words. The room feels charged, anticipation thick, but she shifts slightly, looking uncertain.

“I… I didn’t plan for this,” she murmurs, voice low, almost to herself. She hesitates, crossing her arms as if shielding herself, a faint blush coloring her face. “I didn't, uh, exactly… prepare myself” Her eyes shift downward just below her stomach.

JiU steps in, her expression softening. She reaches out, gently tilting Yoohyeon’s chin so their eyes meet. “Yoohyeon,” she says quietly, her tone firm yet kind. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

The words settle into the silence, and Yoohyeon’s expression eases, a flicker of relief softening her eyes. She leans into JiU’s touch, her breath slowing as some of the tension leaves her. A shy smile lifts her lips, and she glances your way, as if looking for further reassurance.

You give her hand a small, comforting squeeze. “She’s right,” you murmur. “Also, I think its kind of sexy”

Yoohyeon’s face relaxes a little more, her shoulders dropping as she lets herself take a deeper breath. With a slight, tentative smile, she reaches down, fingers pausing for a moment before lifting her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stands there, a bit vulnerable but resolute, a blush warming her cheeks as she glances from you to JiU.

The soft light highlights the natural curves of her skin. She hesitates again, glancing at the slight patch of hair, a flicker of worry crossing her expression. But JiU steps closer, her hand brushing Yoohyeon’s arm in a quiet, reassuring gesture.

With a warm smile, JiU takes her in fully, her gaze steady. She reaches up to tuck a loose strand of Yoohyeon’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger a moment. “You’re beautiful, Yoohyeon,” she says simply.

Yoohyeon lets out a quiet breath, her face softening with a mixture of shyness and relief. She looks between you both, then nods slightly, giving a small, genuine smile. Her body language loosens as she steps in closer, her warmth blending with yours, each touch a quiet affirmation that she’s wanted, just as she is. The three of you stand there, a gentle understanding settling over you all as you hold each other close, a quiet connection shared in the stillness of the room.

A shaky breath escapes Yoohyeon as JiU’s gaze settles on her, warm but undeniably commanding. Yoohyeon’s longing is palpable, and JiU takes her time, letting that desire simmer. Slowly, she leans in, brushing her lips softly over Yoohyeon’s, the kiss beginning gentle before deepening into something more consuming, drawing Yoohyeon closer as her breath catches. JiU’s hand rests on her arm, a steady anchor, fingers pressing just enough to show intent. Each touch from JiU electrifies Yoohyeon, a perfect balance of reassurance and intensity that leaves her pliant, already breathless.

Watching beside them, you’re drawn into the unfolding moment, savoring Yoohyeon’s reaction under JiU’s skilled touch—the way her eyes flutter shut, how her breathing hitches with quiet anticipation. JiU’s gaze briefly meets yours, a spark of control evident, as if reminding you of your place in this shared space. It stirs something raw in you, a familiar exhilaration mixed with a quiet submission to JiU’s presence, though there’s a different energy between you and Yoohyeon.

With a small smile, you reach out, your hand settling warmly on Yoohyeon’s thigh, your touch gentle but grounding, a reminder that she’s here, with both of you. Yoohyeon’s gaze drifts to you, her eyes softened, seeking reassurance, and you respond by squeezing her thigh, letting her feel your steady support, balanced between JiU’s authoritative energy and your own firm but comforting presence.

JiU’s focus returns fully to Yoohyeon as she guides her toward the bed, easing her down onto the soft sheets with a deliberate tenderness. There’s a practiced confidence in JiU’s movements as she brushes Yoohyeon’s hair back from her face, letting her fingers trail along the line of her jaw before tracing down the delicate curve of her neck. She leans in, pressing her lips to Yoohyeon’s collarbone, lingering, savoring each soft gasp Yoohyeon lets out in response.

Beside them, you settle onto the bed, your hand moving slowly higher on Yoohyeon’s thigh, grounding her with a presence that’s both firm and gentle. As JiU’s touch intensifies, guiding Yoohyeon’s breaths to come in short, anticipatory gasps, you find yourself caught between the energy they share. You want to keep Yoohyeon steady, but JiU’s movements send a different thrill through you, a pull you find hard to ignore as your own dynamic with JiU stirs within.

JiU’s attention stays fixed on Yoohyeon, her touch reverent yet possessive, as if she’s savoring every response Yoohyeon gives. Her hand trails deliberately over Yoohyeon’s skin, slow yet insistent, her fingers brushing over her arm, her collarbone, every touch deepening the flush on Yoohyeon’s cheeks. Each movement is infused with a quiet dominance, a confidence that seems to wrap around you both, filling the air with its own quiet intensity. Yoohyeon’s breath catches with each stroke, her body relaxing under JiU’s touch, fully yielding to her guidance.

You watch, captivated, as JiU leans in closer, her mouth tracing delicate, intentional kisses along Yoohyeon’s neck, pausing just enough to let her feel every touch. The sight sends a thrill through you but also a subtle pang that you try to brush aside, yet the quiet ache grows as JiU’s attention remains focused on Yoohyeon, her touch almost exclusive. It leaves you on the edge, caught between the warmth you feel for Yoohyeon and the deeper pull JiU has on you.

Taking a steady breath, you press your hand slightly more firmly against Yoohyeon’s thigh, a silent reminder of your own role here. Yoohyeon shifts her gaze to you, and for a moment, the tension eases as her lips curve into a soft, reassuring smile. You meet her gaze, allowing yourself to ground her, pressing a series of light, lingering kisses along her skin. Yoohyeon sighs, her face relaxing as your touches soothe her, anchoring her in the moment, even as JiU’s hands roam with a possessive grace that leaves Yoohyeon visibly breathless.

JiU’s eyes catch yours, a knowing glint flashing across her face, as if she senses your quiet frustration simmering beneath the surface. She lets her fingers trace down the line of Yoohyeon’s hip, moving with that same deliberate care, drawing Yoohyeon’s body into her rhythm as she makes her shiver, her soft sounds filling the space around you. JiU tilts her head, her gaze sharp, her smile carrying a hint of playful challenge, a reminder of her role here and the depth of control she holds over you both.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie,” JiU murmurs to Yoohyeon, her voice a soothing purr. The words settle into the room, layered with a quiet encouragement that makes your pulse quicken as well, grounding you both in the same energy. You lean forward, brushing more intent kisses along Yoohyeon’s thigh, each one deliberate, marking your own space in this moment, letting her feel the shared warmth between all three of you.

Yoohyeon’s breaths quicken as your kisses travel upward, trailing along her inner thigh with a quiet intensity. Her body shifts between you and JiU, her skin warm under your touch, as you savor the softness of her in contrast to JiU’s more demanding presence. The ache you feel at JiU’s control lingers, the quiet jealousy simmering as her touches continue, each one seeming to pull Yoohyeon deeper into her orbit.

JiU’s hand settles possessively over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb brushing lightly as she murmurs, “Relax, Yoohyeon.” Her words are gentle, yet laced with authority, reminding Yoohyeon of the safety within her guidance. And when JiU catches your gaze again, there’s a subtle understanding there, a glint that speaks directly to the tension in your chest, as if she knows exactly how you feel, balancing on the edge of this connection.

Watching JiU’s fingers trace lightly over Yoohyeon’s thigh, you can’t help the possessive spark flaring within you. But rather than retreat, you choose to lean further in, letting your hand trail upward along Yoohyeon’s waist, steady and grounding as you press a kiss to her stomach. Yoohyeon’s body shifts, her hand gripping onto your shoulder as if to anchor herself, and for the first time, you let yourself get lost in the warmth radiating between the three of you, knowing you each have a place in this shared space.

Each kiss you place is firm, filled with intent, a quiet promise that you’re here, present in this moment. As you move upward, your lips trace a line over Yoohyeon’s collarbone, feeling the way her breath hitches, her hands finding their way to you, clutching as if drawing strength from you. The earlier pangs of jealousy fade slightly, replaced by a sense of connection, of being fully seen and cherished alongside her.

JiU’s hand rests over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb grazing her skin. “Look how ready she is for us,” she murmurs, her gaze slipping between you both, emphasizing the us with a possessive pride that settles the final edge of tension inside you. Her words hang in the air, a reminder of the beauty in this shared intimacy, and as you let yourself sink deeper, you feel the quiet exhilaration shared between all three of you.

Your wife brushes a strand of hair from Yoohyeon’s face, her smile soft and filled with pride. “You’re amazing, both of you,” she murmurs, holding Yoohyeon’s gaze with a warmth that feels momentarily exclusive. Then she glances at you, a spark of playfulness lighting her eyes. “And we’re just getting started.”

JiU’s eyes glint with mischief as she meets Yoohyeon’s gaze, a playful smirk on her lips. She nods toward the closet in a silent cue. You rise, feeling a mix of thrill and something deeper as you move to retrieve two straps—one smaller, one larger.

As you hold them up, you feel the slightest pang of possessiveness mixed with a quiet sense of defiance, grounding you in the moment as JiU’s attention shifts between you both. You turn back to Yoohyeon, meeting her eyes as she hesitates, her gaze flickering over the options before settling on the smaller one, excitement lighting up her expression as she chooses.

“Perfect,” JiU says, her voice low and encouraging, giving Yoohyeon a soft kiss along her jaw as her fingers graze her cheek. “Just let go and enjoy. Focus on us, and trust that you’re right where you belong.”

Yoohyeon nods, her eyes softening as JiU holds her close, her touch grounding the moment. You stand nearby, watching as JiU’s gaze lingers on Yoohyeon. Feeling that familiar spark of possessiveness, something came over you, as you silently set aside the smaller strap, choosing the larger one with a quiet determination.

With calm focus, you position yourself behind Yoohyeon, your hands steady on her hips, your touch warm against her skin. Each move carries a deliberate intensity, a reminder of your place here. You guide her closer to JiU, your touches unhurried, reflecting everything you’ve kept quietly restrained, setting a tone for the night ahead.

JiU’s expression softens as she tilts Yoohyeon’s chin upward, her voice a gentle murmur. “Are you ready?” she asks, her gaze warm as she caresses Yoohyeon’s cheek. Yoohyeon’s eyes shift between the two of you, trust and excitement flickering in her gaze before she nods. JiU leans in to kiss her, tender but with a commanding edge, then guides Yoohyeon’s face towards her core, her movements unhurried and patient as Yoohyeon’s anticipation deepens at the sight.

The moment of penetration elicits a sharp gasp from Yoohyeon, her body instinctively tensing as she tries to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation filling her. The pressure is intense, almost foreign, and it sends an electric wave of sensation through her, somewhere between pain and a thrilling pleasure she’s never felt before. Her fingers tighten reflexively, seeking any form of anchor as the object works itself inside, her senses heightening with each passing second. She shudders, pressing closer to JiU, her face buried against JiU’s legs, muffling the small, breathy cries escaping her lips.

The sounds of Yoohyeon’s voice seem to ignite something deep within JiU, who strokes her hair soothingly, her fingers threading softly but insistently. JiU’s hands guide her. The calm presence grounding Yoohyeon as she navigates the unfamiliar territory of sensation and vulnerability. Yoohyeon feels a rush of heat flood her cheeks, embarrassed by how intensely her body reacts. Each small movement makes her gasp or flinch, Then a particularly forceful thrusts propels her forward leaving no room between her and Jiu.

With slow, but deep movements, each thrust brings her further out of her discomfort and deeper into a sensation that is both electrifying and almost painfully raw. The rhythm builds subtly, adding an undertone of urgency that Yoohyeon isn’t ready to admit to. Her breaths come quicker, ragged, and each inhale draws in the faint, warm scent of JiU, Her mouth trying to explore every inch of her cave

Watching the way JiU’s features melt into pure, unfiltered bliss stirs an extra layer jealousy within you. The sight of Yoohyeon nuzzling into JiU’s folds, lips grazing her skin in worship, makes your pulse quicken, a possessive instinct sparking to life. Your hands, steady until now, tighten on Yoohyeon’s hips, holding her more firmly, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You let your pace quicken incrementally, enough to draw a whimper from Yoohyeon as the intensity shifts, her body instinctively pressing deeper against JiU.

JiU, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, tilts her head, her fingers still tracing gentle circles over Yoohyeon’s skin. She glances at you, concern flickering across her gaze as she notices the shift in your demeanor. “Honey… slow down a bit,” she murmurs, her voice gentle yet steady, her touch briefly pressing to your arm as if to calm the possessive fire building within you.

You nod, easing back into a softer, controlled rhythm. The moment feels fragile, balanced on a knife’s edge, and for a brief time, you believe the surge of intensity has been quelled. But as your wife's attention turns fully back to Yoohyeon, her voice lowering into murmured praises that bring a fresh flush to Yoohyeon’s cheeks, you feel it again, the jealousy that you didn't know you had, start to resurface. JiU’s voice is soft and tender, her praises a balm that soothes Yoohyeon’s trembling breaths, each word a gentle brush that eases her into surrender.

Your grip tightens on Yoohyeon’s hips, your fingers pressing firmly, possessively into her skin, Yoohyeon’s breath hitches as she feels the slight roughness in your touch, her head tilting back as a low, shuddering gasp escapes her. “Oh god… ow—” she pants, her voice trembling with the sheer need building within her. The rhythm intensifies, each slow, deliberate movement drawing out more of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Her hands twist into the sheets, her knuckles whitening as she struggles to hold on, each breath coming in gasps that grow heavier, more desperate.

“Oh—please… I—” Yoohyeon’s voice dissolves, her words reduced to a raw, pleading moan, every sound a testament to the sensations flooding her. The tension builds with every heartbeat, her entire body taut, alive, waiting for the release that hovers just out of reach. Her breaths quicken, her chest rising and falling as her muscles tense and release, the sensations coursing through her like an unstoppable wave.

Finally, the pressure breaks, and Yoohyeon cries out, her release overtaking her in an uncontrollable shudder. She clings to JiU burying her face, her body wracked by tremors as the pleasure spills over, leaving her breathless and utterly spent. Every fiber of her being surrenders in that moment, each shaky breath mingling with the warmth of JiU’s embrace, the sensation grounding her even as it sweeps her away.

JiU’s reaction is instinctual, immediate. The tremor that runs through Yoohyeon ripples into her, drawing a soft, satisfied moan from her lips. Her fingers tighten their hold in Yoohyeon’s hair as her own body responds, hips rocking forward involuntarily. JiU’s chest rises and falls, her breaths quickening as she lets the feeling sweep over her, each wave drawing her deeper into the haze of pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut, her body quivering in sync with Yoohyeon’s, as if the intensity of the moment binds them in a shared heartbeat.

The sight, the sound, the very essence of their shared surrender sparks something deeper within you—a visceral need to take Yoohyeon higher, to push her beyond the limits of what she thought possible. Your rhythm builds again, driven by a primal, possessive urge, every thrust maxing out her climax. Yoohyeon’s body responds, muscles clenching and releasing in waves as she’s drawn into a rhythm beyond her control. Her breath catches, her chest heaving as her mind dissolves in a swirl of raw sensation.

With each movement, Yoohyeon’s cries become sharper, her body more sensitive than ever before. Her back arches, her hands digging in the soft flesh of Jiu's thighs as her body shakes with the intensity.

The room fills with the sound of ragged breathing, punctuated by gasps and whispered pleas, a harmony of sensations that wraps around the three of you, Yoohyeon cries out one last time, her body numb and hurting, leaving her breathless, completely undone.

As you withdraw, JiU shifts upright, her gaze falling downward—and freezing when she notices the larger strap combined with the small tears threatening to fall of Yoohyeon's eyes. Surprise and disappointment flicker across her expression as she looks back at you, slowly shaking her head.

“Hey,” she says, her voice firm. “Why did you use that? She chose the smaller one for a reason.” Her eyes are steady and narrowing “You, of all people, should know to respect that.”

Guilt flashes across your face as JiU’s gentle reprimand settles over you. With an unspoken authoritative aura, she guides both you and Yoohyeon to lie side-by-side, her gaze warm but unyielding, making it clear who holds control. Her presence fills the room, and as her fingers trace along your thighs in light, teasing patterns, there’s an undeniable air of anticipation.

“Now,” JiU murmurs, eyes glinting with playful satisfaction. “I think it’s time for a lesson.” Her touch slows, one hand finding Yoohyeon’s core with a steady rhythm, each movement precise, deliberate, as her fingers trace patterns that leave Yoohyeon shivering and breathless. But her other hand on you is painstakingly slow, her fingertips drifting with an almost unbearable lightness, just enough to stir, to leave you squirming in anticipation.

Yoohyeon lets out a soft whimper, her body instinctively arching into JiU's touch as her fingers skim over the sensitive skin of her thigh. “JiU… please,” she whispers, her voice breathless, eyes locked onto her with raw intensity.

JiU’s smile deepens, a gleam of satisfaction in her gaze as her fingers linger just shy of where Yoohyeon craves her touch. “Patience.” she murmurs, her tone a blend of affection and control. “If I go too fast it will hurt you,”

Her attention shifts to you, her fingers tracing agonizingly slow circles along your thigh, light enough to make you squirm. "Minji..." Your voice is a soft, needy plea as your hands grip the sheets. "Please... can you go faster."

A low chuckle escapes JiU's lips, her smile widening. “You don’t get to ask, honey,” she teases, leaning close, her voice a soft murmur that sends a thrill through you. “Not after how you treated our guest today. An apology is in order.”

Her touch remains deliberate, shifting seamlessly between you and Yoohyeon. Every time Yoohyeon's breath hitches or her body tenses, JiU keeps her rhythm steady. Meanwhile, her hand on you moves with excruciating slowness, each featherlight stroke teasing but withholding satisfaction. The effect is intoxicating—leaving you both simmering, each touch drawing you further into her control.

“Faster” Yoohyeon’s voice fades into a moan, her body taut with need, each pause becoming a delicious ache.

Your own breaths quicken, and just when your eyes flutter closed, teetering on the brink, JiU withdraws again with a soft chuckle, her gaze amused as she watches the flush deepen on your face. "Minji… please, I'm sorry." you whisper, voice tinged with desperation.

JiU meets your gaze, her expression both warm and teasing as she cups your chin, directing your focus toward Yoohyeon. “Apologize to her not me and I might consider.” she says softly, her voice carrying an unmistakable command.

Turning to Yoohyeon, you search her face, a rush of sincerity coloring your voice. “Yoohyeon… I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I never meant to hurt you.” The words linger, filled with unspoken emotion.

Yoohyeon’s expression softens, her cheeks flushed as her hand reaches to rest on yours. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice tender. “It hurt at first, but… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good.”

A hint of satisfaction flickers across JiU’s face, and she rewards Yoohyeon’s patience with a deeper touch, her fingers moving with intent, coaxing Yoohyeon’s body to respond. Yoohyeon gasps, her breaths quickening as she arches under JiU’s steady rhythm, her need apparent as she sinks into the sensation.

JiU’s gaze shifts to you, her eyes softening in approval as she nods, encouraging you to join in. You lean closer to Yoohyeon, hands gently finding her chest, your touch warm and tender as you trace soft circles over her skin. Yoohyeon’s breath catches, her body responding instinctively to the combined attention, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and excitement.

You lower your lips to her collarbone, your kisses trailing down to her chest, every gentle press designed to bring her pleasure. Yoohyeon’s soft moans blend with the rhythm of JiU’s movements, each sound spurring you to deepen your touch, your fingers grazing her with reverence.

JiU’s hand remains steady on Yoohyeon, her fingers coaxing her closer to the edge, guiding her with the perfect rhythm as she murmurs, “Let go, Yoohyeon. Feel everything… don’t hold back.” The warmth in her voice is a reassurance, a command, urging Yoohyeon to release.

Yoohyeon’s hands find yours, her fingers entwined as she clutches at you, her breaths coming in gasps as her body arches, giving herself over to the sensations. Your lips move against her skin, each kiss, each touch drawing her closer. She tenses, her voice breaking into soft cries, her body finally reaching its peak.

With a shuddering breath, Yoohyeon succumbs, her hands clutching you tightly as each wave overtakes her, her soft moans filling the air as she finds release. Her breaths come heavy, and she melts into your arms, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and affection. JiU’s smile deepens, pride evident in her expression as you both hold Yoohyeon through each tremor, your touch a steady, reassuring presence.

With a kiss to Yoohyeon’s cheek, JiU murmurs, “Do you want a sneak peek of our next video?” Her voice is soft yet brimming with excitement, and Yoohyeon’s eyes light up, nodding weakly as she savors the warmth of the moment.

JiU’s hands are steady and sure as she gently positions you and Yoohyeon face-to-face, her calm assurance guiding you into place. She eases your legs apart, leaving you open in front of Yoohyeon’s wide-eyed gaze. Her touch drifts lower, fingers moving with precision, each rhythmic stroke pulling you closer to the edge. Her other hand finds your breast, expertly toying with the pierced nipple, the cool metal sending a delightful shiver against your warmth. Your head tips back, breaths coming in quicker under her skilled, steady touch.

Yoohyeon’s gaze remains locked, her eyes unblinking as she absorbs each nuanced motion. Breath shallow and body still, she is captivated by the energy between you and JiU, as if it wraps around her like a charged current. Her heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm JiU sets—each precise stroke, each deliberate tug that draws soft gasps from your lips. With every shift in JiU’s movements, Yoohyeon feels herself drawn further into the moment, as if JiU’s touch extends through the room’s tension, reaching her too.

JiU’s focus sharpens, her touch unwavering as her fingers move inside you with unyielding intent, guiding you with each practiced stroke to the edge. Her fingers curl to explore your most sensitive places, igniting a powerful current that travels through your entire body. Instinctively, your hand clings to her arm, a silent plea for release as you surrender to her control, every wave of sensation coursing through you under her skilled guidance.

"Cum... now!" JiU whispers as she simultaneously give you a soft bite on your neck. The words sink in, reverberating through you, unlocking a raw tension that has been building. Her command—firm yet filled with tenderness—becomes the final spark that tips you over, dissolving the last of your resistance as her presence anchors you in place.

Under JiU’s expert guidance, a tidal wave of sensation floods your body, each nerve heightened, every inch alive. The world blurs as every part of you surrenders to the crescendo building within. Your back arches, helpless against the surge, muscles taut as your head falls back, eyes closed, and a sharp, unrestrained cry escapes your lips. 

The pleasure is unstoppable, a wave that crests and breaks with a fierceness that consumes you entirely. It rushes through your body, an intense warmth that spills outward, flowing down to Yoohyeon, who lies below, a willing recipient of your shared experience. She gasps as the intimate liquid reaches her, coating her chest and stomach with the evidence of your release. Some of your juices even reaches her mouth, allowing her to taste the sweet and salty essence of you

For a heartbeat, Yoohyeon is frozen, mesmerized by the fluid that seeps into her skin, filling her with an exhilaration that is both grounding and electrifying. The room itself seems to hold its breath, thick with the shared intensity surrounding you all. Every sound, every heartbeat is amplified in this suspended moment, creating a symphony of sensation that envelops the space.

Yoohyeon's chest rises and falls with ragged, soft breaths, each inhale pulling in the lingering scent that coats her. Her gaze stays fixed on you, lips parted, eyes glistening with awe. Her flushed skin a testament to the power of your pleasure. The energy is unrestrained, enveloping her and leaving her equally breathless, equally awestruck by the intensity of the moment.

JiU, the maestro of this symphony, watches with a satisfied smile, her hands steadying you with soothing touches as she gently lowers you from the heights of your climax. She leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. Then, with a gentleness that belies the strength of her presence, she brushes a few damp strands from Yoohyeon's flushed face. Her gaze is warm, filled with pride and affection for both of you—her protégés in the art of pleasure.

“Better not spoil that for any other fans,” JiU murmurs, a playful note in her voice, her gaze lingering fondly on the shared connection filling the room.

With a final, gentle reverence, JiU leans down, her lips trailing soft, intimate kisses over every inch touched by your release. Each kiss feels like a blessing, a quiet act of devotion that fills the room with a serene warmth. Her lips linger on Yoohyeon’s flushed skin, delicate yet deliberate, as though committing each moment to memory. Yoohyeon’s eyes flutter closed, savoring the tenderness. 

JiU then turns her attention to you, her touch unhurried, as if there’s all the time in the world. Her hands drift over your skin, fingers grazing softly, leaving warmth in their wake. There’s an unspoken affection in her gaze, her touch, a quiet promise that the intimacy shared tonight isn’t fleeting. As she presses a final, featherlight kiss to your lips, you feel a sense of completion, a fullness that settles deeply within.

Eventually, as the moment’s glow begins to settle into a gentle stillness, JiU helps you and Yoohyeon gather your things. Her hands are soft and unhurried, fingers brushing with care as she smooths tousled hair and adjusts clothing, each touch infused with a lingering tenderness. Every gesture feels like a quiet vow, an intention to hold on to the intimacy woven between you all tonight. Her knowing smile catches yours and Yoohyeon’s in turn, a silent acknowledgment of the closeness you now share.

When fully dressed, your hand instinctively finds Yoohyeon’s. Her fingers wrap around yours in a gentle yet steadying grip, her legs still a bit shaky as she stands beside you. Her gaze meets yours, and then drifts back to JiU, whose warm expression seems to say it all—a quiet pride in the bond she’s nurtured tonight.

As Yoohyeon steadies herself, gathering her belongings, she steps slowly toward the door, each movement deliberate, her legs still a little unsteady from the shared closeness. Just as her hand reaches the handle, JiU places a hand on her shoulder, leaning close with a playful glint in her eyes. “Maybe next time, you could make a little cameo in one of our videos,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice carrying a lighthearted warmth.

Yoohyeon’s cheeks flush, but there’s a newfound ease in her smile as she meets JiU’s gaze, sharing a glance with you as well. Her eyes sparkle, holding a quiet thrill as she nods, voice soft yet brimming with promise. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replies, warmth threading through her words.

Stepping outside, the cool night air greets her like a gentle embrace, grounding and refreshing her. She walks slowly down the path, her heart fluttering, her steps still a bit tentative but full of joy, as though she’s carrying a spark of the night with her. Her smile lingers as she reaches her door, realizing with a soft chuckle that she won’t be needing her binoculars or her phone anymore. There’s no more distance to bridge, no more glances from afar—only the closeness she now holds deeply, a warmth that will linger long after the night fades.

[whisperofwonder]

Yes, it's another one bed fic for Kuroo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

timeskip!Kuroo Tetsurou x coworker!reader

for @dira333, because apparently the one bed prompts were so good I had to write it twice

You drowse in the soft morning light, warm and perfectly content, a comfortable weight pressing you into the plush of the bed. Still only half awake, you curl closer to the source of that warmth, an arm holding you flush against another body.

Another body. Your eyes fly open, and you suddenly wriggle backwards, trying to untangle yourself. Kuroo Tetsurou only lets out a soft, disgruntled snore, not budging. A wave of irrational irritation washes over you as he tries to pull you closer in his sleep. You grip the edge of the bed, determined to hold your ground. Oh, someone at the JVA is going to hear about this.

"No," You said in dismay, staring at the single bed in the middle of the room. "No, no, no, no, no. No."

"Wow. Seven no's," Kuroo said with a whistle.

Are you not seeing this?" You gestured widely at the room, his unphased response only serving to irritate you further. "This can't be right. Maybe the front desk screwed up. I'm going back down. There has to be an available room with two beds."

"Any luck?" He asked when you returned, as if your stormy expression wasn't answer enough.

"The whole hotel is booked," You growled, "So we're stuck with this room, and I don't understand why you're enjoying this so much!" You were tempted to smack the amused expression right off of his face.

He shrugged, "I just don't think it's as big of a deal as you do, I guess," He said nonchalantly. "Look," He drew an invisible line down the middle of the bed, "I'll stay on my side, you stay on yours. It'll be fine."

Right. Because that worked out so well. You shift beneath the weight of his arm, frowning at the ceiling. He's just so infuriating. It had started as a rivalry, soon after you both started at the JVA, and now you're not quite sure what it is. All you know is that he never misses an opportunity to get under your skin, and this is no exception. Even asleep, he's managing. You shouldn't be surprised.

You turn your head to look at him, taking in the smooth, peaceful expression on his face. There's no no trace of his obnoxious smirk now. No quick remark poised on his lips. It's just Kuroo, completely open and vulnerable before you. You swallow, softening despite yourself.

Loath as you are to admit it, the most irritating thing about him is that he's actually incredibly good at his job. This whole trip, you've been reminded of that over and over again. It's enough to make you sick.

As though he's sensing your thoughts, he lets out another soft snore, the word cute flitting briefly through your mind. You can't take it any longer. "Get off of me," You suddenly jab your elbow into his side. The sound he makes is almost gratifying, and then he's blinking blearily at you.

"Oh," He quickly jerks his arm away, and you try not to think about how disappointed you are by the sudden lack of warmth. He clears his throat. "Sorry about that." He folds into himself, purposefully not looking at you. "I know this wasn't ideal."

"It's fine," You say gruffly, "We don't have to talk about it."

"Okay then," He says, gaze finally sliding to you as he throws the blanket aside. "Now proceeding to not talk about it," He flicks his fingers against his forehead in a mock salute, and there it is - the smirk is back. All you can do is roll your eyes.

-

"One bed, Yume. How could you miss that?" No sooner are you back in the office than you confront her.

"What?" Her innocence is a little too wide-eyed for your liking. "Sorry, I guess I screwed that one up!" She shrugs. "You've gotta admit, it's kind of funny. So, how was it?" She quirks an eyebrow.

"No comment."

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Pls pls pls write astarion fic where instead of him trying to bite tav in the first night its actually her trying to bite him and they both find out the other one is a vampire! Some innuendo maybe and flirting hihi

bite bite fall in love lol

Warnings: blood wine

taglist: @ghostinvenus

"When you said you wanted to know me more," Completely unphased, "I didn't expect this close, dear." One might say he is enjoying him. Maybe he is? You are unsure and frankly not focused on how the smile on his face is clearly mocking you. The hunger demands you feed, driving you to seek out blood.

That sanguine hunger then drew you to his tent this night, the moon high with dazzling stars littering across the sky.

And in this fancy tent, a dagger is once more at your throat cutting enough to draw a thin line of blood.

"Please, Astarion, kill me." The look of disbelief is clear on his face, "I don't want to hurt you." He sees you, the beast enslaved to the hunger: a vampire.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!" He sits back while still towering and saddling your lap, "You wanted a nimble, correct?"

You nod, your claws embedded into the cloth of his bedroll, your eyes closed as your body screams to latch onto his neck to rip it open!

"Allow me then to grant us a solution, hm?" The sound of the bottle opening then the sweet, sweet smell of blood follows. "Ah ah, you get this once you tell me who your master is."

You don't realize you moved to sit up until sharp metal touches your chest. "Master?" Trying to speak but your jaw hurts terribly to do so.

"Yes, the one who turned you." There's an impatience in his tone. "Your sire."

You tell him the exact name and location you think your sire is from.

"Go on, don't spill it." A reward for being forthcoming. Moving off of you as you cung down the drink without at least savoring it. His eyes take in this feral spawn in his tent.

The blood wine is drunk from desperately and after it is all gone, your lips are red with blood, and you crave more.

"No, no," Grabbing you quickly as he saw your eyes turn completely red and your mouth salivating with a stronger. "Control yourself."

You twist and claw but are still too weak to put up a real fight, he holds you against him as you both growl then plead or threaten him to feed, to kill the others.

When morning comes and exhaust finally claims you, he is there sitting beside you, "Astarion?" Why are you in his tent? Why do you taste blood on your lips? "Oh, Gods above, did I hurt you?" When you try to move, you feel sluggish, and you clench your stomach.

"No, you didn't hurt me. You did however try to bite me without permission. Which is very rude, darling." You look ready to cry, "Seriously? Do you feel bad?"

"Of course! You trusted me in this camp and I tried to bite you!" The hunger lurks, and you stand when he stands. "Astarion?"

The laughter is horrible and worse are his words, "Just my luck! A caring vampire. Wow, now that's a treat." He glanced away as he said that last part. The silence hints at something more, the evidence in your mouth as you realize you drank the blood of an animal rather than a person.

A difference you know by force by your master.

You stare with concern then speak, "Are you… Vampire too?"

"A spawn," Disgust in his voice, "So drinking my blood won't free you." The way his lips frown and eyebrows knitted together.

"Free me?"

"You know: drink a vampire lord's blood and then you are free. In theory."

When more confusion is written on your face, as you ask more questions; it becomes clear to Astarion how new you are. A freshly gifted vampire with no guidance…

"Nothing?"

"I only was told I am immortal and to behave."

Sheltered, a sheltered vampire who wasn't taught at least how to control their hunger.

One that is quite a beast than himself, fascinating, and one he can see having an advantage to have on his side.

"Let's help each other, hm? You clearly need to feed soon and I can hunt." His tone expresses a false worry, "I feed us and you keep the others from staking us." Else Wyll– despite being a friend to you, Astarion doesn't trust him. A monster hunter who just so happened to deal with only the infernal is still a monster hunter.

“You protect me and I protect you.” He nods at those words, “Okay.” Trusting him, after all, he spared your life.

[kur0m1sblog]

Hey! Could i request Hobie Brown that's trying to get with fem!reader, but she's nervous because she's never been in a relationship before?

Trepidatious.

summary: Hobart is one of your best friends, he suggests and asks for you to go on little dates and go out with him sometimes (all the time). when the two of you are sitting on the Brooklyn bridge he suddenly asks why you won’t in it’s on going out with him.

characters: Hobart Brown. Jessica Drew.

warnings: cussing. intimate touching. hobie being whipped for you. a little angst.

genre: fluff. romance. angst.

reader: fem! spider! reader

REQUEST ARE OPEN!

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Hobart Brown. You’d met him about a year or two ago.. he was one of your close friends. He was always near you, never wanted to leave you alone. He had this thing for you, a romantic type thing.

The first month of knowing him he’d ask you out to go get some treats from a bakery, but you politely declined and went on your way. He looked dumbfounded you remembered. From then on, he’d get flowers for you, treats and trinkets, he’s given you many of his guitar picks. All of them are placed in a trinket holder he’d also gotten for you.

Hobie always got you stuff, he was just sweet like that.

You sat at the cafeteria, some other spiders sitting around eating there lunch, while you were playing with your salad thinking about Brown. “So when are you going to finally get with him?” Jessica asks as she pulls a chair up, and lays her hands on her belly.

You look up, a little shocked from what she’d just asked. “I’m sorry what?” Blush spread across you face as you bit down on your lip, trying not to smile from the mention of his name.

She looks up, places her hands on the table, and leans forward to continue speaking. “I said, when are you finally going to get with him? I’m tired of hearing you’re name from his mouth constantly..” You blush slightly when you hear that he mentions you to her.

You get up and throw your salad away, and walk back to her, you’re thick heels click-n-clacking onto the ground and stop once you sit back down. “How fatuous of you to ask Drew, uhh, what made you think I was going to get with him.” You giggle out and bite your lip as you realize you kind of sounded like an asshole in that moment of time. “Uh anyways, not I’m not so comfortable with getting in a relationship right now..”

She raises an eyebrow. “And why is that now? Not your type, too clingy, annoying?” She asks picking off his flaws that seem to only specify to things he shows and does to you.

You wave your hands as she continued picking at him. “Wow wow, that’s not the case at all.. Hobie is my type it’s just, I’m nervous to get into a relationship.” Opening your water bottle, you chug it down, you’re throat had gotten dry from the topic. It felt much better to feel as sense of relief and the cold liquid made its way down your throat. You wipe your chin and look back at her, hoping she knew what you meant.

Eyebrows furrowed and raised slightly, she asked what you meant. “Wait I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

You sigh and tap your nails on the polished wood surface, “Okay to get to the point, I’ve never been in a relationship. That’s all, and I’m nervous to get into one with him because I do t know how it’s supposed to play out y’know?” You say searching understanding in her dark brown eyes.

Instead your greeted with her laughing hysterically and laying her head on the table as she continues her fit. Staring at her like she looks like she nuts, she laughs her words out. “So your saying you’ve never had a relationship?! That’s impossible, your attractive like out of this world attractive?! Do you see how many spider’s follow your body until you turn and corner and head to your destination.” She says as she stops laughing, realizing you were actually telling the truth. “Oh my god, you’re not lying are you…” She says looking equally shocked as you did second before.

You blink awkwardly, silence between the both of you. “So yeah psssh, anyways I gotta go now.” You say pushing you’re chair in and running down the lobby, “See you laterrrrr~” you drag out as you turn a corner and disappear.

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After you were finally done patrolling the city with Hob you both sat atop the Brooklyn Bridge, looking at the colors that were mixed in the sunset in front of you both. You’d place your hand on the structure as you both sat on the edge. It was comfortable silence, sometimes it was just like that between the two of you. Moment later he placed his hand on yours and finally asked you the question he’s been wanting to ask you.

He looks at you, the soft wind blowing as your hair sways back and forth in the air. “Y/N, why haven’t you gone out with me..?” He said staring at your hand that was placed under his.

Taken aback you looked at him, face a little flushed from the question. “Why I haven’t gone out with you..?” You say looking at him deep into the eyes, you saw that there was something hiding in there, his emotions. He nodded.

You took a deep breath and looked down at both of you’re feet dangling off of the tall bridge. “Well… look it’s not that I don’t like you back, I do Hobie, it’s just I’ve never been in a relationship.. and I’m nervous because I don’t know how they work and look I’m sorry.” You said, a wave of guilt flew past you as you finished.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Love, why ya’ apologizing..? It’s fine Dear…” He said looking at you, he rubbed your knuckles and squeezed your palm in the process.

You looked up, he really was the one for you wasn’t he. You liked the way he understood and layed low on the subject. You kissed his cheek, and layed your head on his shoulder, wrapping his hand around your hip and pulling you closer, and you nuzzled more into his side.

You closed your eyes and looked at the sunset, hues of of purple and pink mixing together, dancing in the sky. “Thank you, Hobart.” You whispered, the both of you spent the rest of the night there until it was time for you both to go home.

It ended with him walking you to your apartment steps, you gently kissing him on the cheek, leaving a lipstick mark on him, and waving goodbye before saying your last piece to him, “Thank you for understanding Hobart, I’ll talk to you in the morning..” Closing the door, you had a sweet smile on your face, you were happy to have him to say the least..

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notes: Thank you for requesting, I actually enjoyed making this, have a great morning/afternoon/night!

June 7, 2023

10:30am

[dumplingprincessextraordinaire]

I try not to post too much about antis because I want the proship tags to be filled with happiness more so than rants, but I haven’t seen anyone point these two people out much so here I go.

Britney Venti and Meatcanyon. MC is simple. He uploaded a video called “the worst fandom” and basically shat on lolicons and spread that stupid school of thought “your brain can’t tell the different between drawings and the real thing-“ No meaty, maybe YOUR brain can’t tell the differences but most of us well adjusted adults CAN. In fact, I think he maybe really can’t tell the difference, remember that disgusting video where he drew that foot ball player getting grossly intimate with his son (a real child, a real father) AND then made a joke about the foot ball abusing the wife for laughs? A real woman as well I’m assuming? Maybe I’m just sensitive to women’s issues because I am one, but gross. Why didn’t more people call Meaty out for that?? I didn’t hear a buzz or a thing about it.

Okay so Britney Venti. Basically she’s a pickme who hates other women, shits on sex workers and lolicons alike. She also likes to join discord servers that are properly marked and labeled as the exact thing she hates just to “expose them”.

At first she’ll try to shit on sex workers by saying stuff like “well I’m just looking at the fact and the psychology about how sex workers are always depressed and aboooosed” and then she’ll turn around and make fun of these same women with really petty low jabs like “wow she looks so retarded and talks funny” (a Venus angelic video iirc) to top all of that off, she’s also apparently dating the incel king himself think before you sleep SO.

And to be clear, I’m a little murky on how good sex work actually is for women myself. I honestly don’t know and I have some misgivings about it, but the difference between Britney and I, is that I’ll never make fun of SWer’s abuse stories, body shame them or victim blame them for what they’ve been through. Basically, Britney sweetie, maybe your brain hasn’t quite caught up to this type of nuance yet, but you can dislike sex work without hating sex workers and being misogynistic.

Oh yeah, after spending years attacking that shark girl vtuber and intruding on proship spaces and saying we’re all monsters, someone dug up a clip of her flirting with a little boy on stream. SO.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 14

Luz laid on the floor of her bedroom, coloring more of her drawing while kicking her feet up in the air.

"I have a sister who looks exactly like me~!" she sang. "I have a sister who's name is--"

"Luz?"

Luz looked away from her drawing and saw Camila poking her head into the room. "Hola, Mami!" Luz chirped. "Can I come down now?"

"Well, maybe, if you want," Camila said. "I just wanted to let you know that neither me or your father are in the mood to cook tonight, so Papi went out to pick something up for all of us."

"That's okay!"

"As for me, I'm going to try and focus on doing a bit more research on...things. So I need you to do something."

Camila then opened the door more, revealing Vee clinging to her leg. She's still human and wearing the yellow dress from Luz's drawing, but now Vee looked a lot less skittish than she she was before. She was still clinging to Camila like a lifeline, but seemed a lot lighter now, emotionally speaking. She still had Manny's jacket over her shoulders, though.

"Could you play with Vee for a bit?" Camila asked. "Keep her company while I work."

"Sure!" Luz excitedly said. Camila urged Vee to go inside and the disguised creature did her best, stumbling and wobbling her way over to Luz that made her chuckle a bit. "You're not good at walking."

Vee blushed. "Sorry..."

"It's okay, I can teach you!" Luz proudly stood up. "I've been doing this my entire life."

"I wish," Camila said with a grin. "It was a nightmare teaching you to walk. Anyways, have fun, girls. I'll just be in the other room if you need me."

She walks away, the door still wide open.

"Alright," Luz said to Vee. "Walking is simple. You just stick your foot out and put it back on the ground. Just a little further away from you. Like this!"

She tried demonstrating her walking by taking long strides, making a circle around Vee while practically stomping her feet.

"See? It's easy! You try!"

Vee stared at Luz for a bit longer and looked down at her own feet. Carefully, all while keeping her balance, Vee tried copying Luz's movements. And while she still stumbled a bit, she eventually started mimicking Luz's stride.

"Wow, you're a natural!" Luz exclaimed. "Soon, you'll be a walking champion!"

"Champion?"

"Cham! Pi! On!" Luz cheered.

Vee started to giggle a little bit, but was surprised by the noise as if she never made it before. Unfortunately, due to the shock, Vee tripped over her new feet, falling face first into Luz's drawings.

"Oh, my gosh, Vee!" Luz crouched down next to her, helping Vee up into a sitting position. "Are you okay?"

Vee sniffed. "Sorry..."

"Oh, that's okay. You did great for a beginner. And I've been tripping my whole life too. Papi says it's because my brain moves faster than my body."

"What does that mean?"

Luz shrugged. "He also says it's good to recali...Recalla...Re...call...eee...brate? I don't know what he actually says. It's a big, big word. But whenever my dad says it, he has me do this."

Luz stood up and started shaking her body around. Her arms flailed, her head wobbled, and her legs kicked around for a bit. It freaked Vee out for a bit, but once Luz started making a funny noise as she let loose her tongue, it made her giggle some more.

"Come on," Luz told her. "You try."

"Um...Okay." Vee stood up and tried to do the exact same thing as Luz, even making the noise. They both kept this up for a few seconds longer before they started to wobble a bit. "Dizzy..." Vee groaned.

"That's how you know it's working...!"

They both plopped onto the floor with little "Oofs." After a while of staring up at the ceiling, Luz started to laugh, with Vee joining in with some more light giggles.

"That was fun!" Luz sat back up. "Now, with our brains recallalalala-tated, wanna color with me?"

"I don't know." Vee sat up too. "She didn't seem to like what I drew."

"Who?"

"The, uh, the big lady? With the glass on her face? Cami...Camill..."

"You mean Mami?" Luz asked, to which Vee nodded in response. "Yeah, Mami's happy face and fake happy face are two different things. She thinks they're not, but they are. Ooh, but if you need help learning how to color too, I can definitely do that too!"

She takes a crayon and a new piece of paper, already starting her next "masterpiece."

"Papi taught me how to draw, I can teach you what I know."

Vee hummed in thought and crawled over to sit next to Vee, looking over her shoulder as she drew. And once more, she felt that warmness in her heart as she did.

[plutoleah]

Rockstar Revelation

Chapter 2

[Male reader-insert, amab, masturbation, reader is mistaken as a woman but doesn't correct anyone. Andrew x Male reader.]

"Andrew I didn't know that you knew how to play the electric guitar. Can you play that again? I think I have some lyrics that can go with that." Y/N smiles while Andrew nods and begins to play the same chords. Y/N waits a few seconds, trying to get into the beat, and then begins singing. "I don't know what I am, but I want you to show me. I don't want to have the capacity to feel lonely. I want you to destroy me, so I'll feel better. I don't wanna leave this moment ever, ever, ever. I wanna leave this world with you. I wanna become something better with you. I wanna fuck our bodies into broken shells. I wanna lose ourselves forever. I wanna put you in my mouth. I wanna crush you in my jaws. I wanna" Y/N stops singing after realizing what she sang and seeing Andrew looking at her.

"Sorry, I got a little into it." Y/N rubs the back of her neck, feeling a little embarrassed. "Wow, that was wow." Andrew's face looks shocked and amazing. He then brings a knuckle to his mouth and starts nervously biting it, a habit he usually has. "What's wrong?" Y/N walked closer to him.

"Nothing," Andrew responded quickly as he backed away from Y/N. "It's just that I was wondering if you want to join me for dinner." Andrew bit down on his finger so hard that blood drew out of it. "Sure, I don't mind; I've only been eating takeout, so it would be nice to eat a home-cooked meal for once," Y/N smiles, trying to reassuring Andrew. "Oh, really?" Andrew sighs out in relief. "Well, um, you know where I live, so um, I'll text you when the food is almost finished." Andrew has to stop himself from jumping up and down. "I'll see you later," Y/N smiles as Andrew walks out.

|When Andrew gets home|

"Ashley, get your ass up and help me cook," Andrew yells as he walks into the shared room. "Can't we just eat takeout?" Ashley groans as she rolls over to look at him. "Where the hell have you been?" Ashley gets up to interrogate her brother. "None of your fucking business," Andrew pushes past her to put down his guitar and then walks to the kitchen. "We have a guest, so help me cook," Andrew says, tying his hair back. "Oh my god, is it another bitch you met and also no slut you've been with liked your cooking, so I don't know what the difference would be now?" Ashley laughs at him, but stops laughing when she sees Andrew coming towards her with a knife.

"For your information, you're the one that always made them spit out the food because you overseasoned it with chili." Andrew traps Ashley against the wall, holding a knife against her neck. "Not my fault; they can't handle a little chili." Ashley wanted to kick and fight her brother, but she was scared he might actually stab her. Andrew then walked away from her to finish cutting the chicken. "So do you want me to-?" Ashley started to speak but got cut off by a glare. She waved him off and went to sit on the couch.

After awhile, the food had finally finished cooking, so he texted Y/N to come over. When Y/N arrived at the house, she rang the doorbell, which Ashley answered due to Andrew being in the bathroom. She eyed Y/N up and down. "So you are?" Ashley looked at Y/N in disgust, even though she knew exactly who was at her door. "Im (stage name), but you can also call me Y/N." Y/N smiled, trying to be as kind as possible. "Hm." She eyed her down again before being pulled by the hair by Andrew to get out of the way.

"Sorry about her, you must've been so hot waiting out here in the heat," Andrew apologized as he let Y/N in. She smiled. "People pleaser," Ashley whispered as she walked to the couch, but almost trips due to Andrew "whore." Andrew then walks towards Y/N and shows her the dining room.

Ashley got up from the couch, practically slitering her body towards the dining table. "You wouldn't want your little sister to starve, would you?" Ashley smiles while sitting next to Y/N. "So what do you like about my brother? Do you like him because of how he looks? Or do you like the way he talks? Or when you're in bed with him. Oh no, wait, its his di-" Ashley gets interrupted in the middle of her sentence due to Andrew kicking her shin. "Shut the fuck up and eat your food." Andrew glares at her. Ashley just glares back.

"Yall two are just the cutest. I used to have fights just like this when I was younger. Y/N completely ignored the context Ashley implied in her rant and ate her food with a smile. Ashley and Andrew just stared at her and then went back to eating. After everyone was done eating, Ashley went into her room while Andrew and Y/N talked. "I had a nice time. I think your sister is nice, just a little weird." Y/N smiled, and Andrew laughed. "Weird is the right word, I guess." Andrew rolled his eyes, recounting the crazy things his sister has done in the past. Y/N then leaned on Andrew and then titled her head up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank's again," Y/N stepped back. "I'll call you when I get home." Y/N smiled and waved as she walked away. Feeling proud, he smiled to himself, doing something so ballsy that he was feeling a little mischievous.

When Y/N got home, he washed up and laid down. Tomorrow was the day he would tell Andrew he was a guy. Or maybe just let him find out. Y/N took out his phone and called Andrew, which he answered after a few rings. "Yeah," Andrew answered. "Just calling to tell you I got home safe." Y/N sounds energetic, while Andrew found himself sounding tired and bored, which Y/N noticed. "Oh, shit did I wake you up?" Y/N apologized. "No, no, it's fine. I'm not even sleepy." Andrew got up from his bed and walked into the living room when he saw Ashley turn and groan.

Andrew and Y/N talked for awhile, so whenever Y/N's voice started to sound more sleepy and sexy to him, he thought he was going crazy and thought he was disgusting for thinking like this, but his body seemed to disagree with him, so when he looked down, he cursed himself. "Andrew you alright, you haven't said anything." Y/N sounds concerned. Andrew responded back quickly to reassure her, but while he was talking to her, he quickly took off his pants, covering the sound with his voice. He knew what he was doing was wrong.

Andrew and Y/N talked for awhile, so whenever Y/N's voice started to sound more sleepy and sexy to him, he thought he was going crazy and thought he was disgusting for thinking like this, but his body seemed to disagree with him, so when he looked down, he cursed himself. "Andrew you alright, you haven't said anything." Y/N sounds concerned. Andrew responded back quickly to reassure her, but while he was talking to her, he quickly took off his pants, covering the sound with his voice. He knew what he was doing was wrong.

As Y/N started talking again, Andrew took his cock into his hand. All he could do was picture Y/N, her soft hands stroking him to completion, and her lips that would kitty lick the head of his cock, teasing him. The tension in his body built as he stroked himself faster as their conversation went on. "And they just kept cheering for me; it felt amazing," Y/N recounted. The sound of her voice was so nice. Andrew could feel it—the heat spreading through his body—but honestly, it went straight to his dick.

In a few quick motions, Andrew was reaching his peak. Andrew shoved his face into the couch and let out muffled moans as he came. Andrew stroked himself until he felt the right amount of sensitivity. He pulled up his pants, instantly regretting what he had just done.

"So, Andrew, do you want to go to the mall with me tomorrow?" Y/N asked while smiling at his phone, hoping to see Andrew outside work again. "Sure," Andrew answered out of breath. After Andrew got off call with Y/N, he went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face as he stared at himself in the mirror. "I can't believe I just fucking did that." Andrew pulled his eyelids down. "And I have to fucking see her tomorrow." Andrew splashed more water on his face, then turned off the faucet, turned off the light in the bathroom, and went to bed with his head in his pillow.

[dreamerwitches]

I have mixed feelings on the witches, I'm gonna go through them all.

Renata and Ren: It just doesn't feel like the minor bits match up. There's too many bits that are just slightly too different. Like the screen shape and the bone colour and style. Am I being nitpicky? It just doesn't feel like the witch and doppel are linked. Or that they wanted to make this design for the witch and didn't really care that it didn't look like her doppel. I suppose I like how the witch is more organised than the doppel cause my gripe with it is that it feels a little like the parts don't mesh well. Like, what is going on with that pink bit it does not work. On its own, the witch is good. Fine, pretty, but a little bland and simple. As a design taking from the doppel, I think it kinda fails. Too much was changed.

Cyan and Hinano: Ehhhhhhhhhh I think they just made her worse?? Like, there's so little changed cause the doppel is so witch-like anyway but the changes they did do make her look worse XT the bright tubes are ugly and I dont understand the moth-ear-thing additions. Also the skirt is worse too lol. I miss the gas mask though I understand if that was added for Hinano but you can keep it on the witch c'mon! It's just like they removed all the best parts...

Don Rocinante and Sasara: Ehhhhhhhh here we go again. It looks stupid. C'mon she looks so stupid. Not in an uncanny, scary way, she looks so dumb. I included the doppel attack where she does get legs and that was silly but not as much as this one. Otherwise so little is changed mehhhhh. I liked the doppel so you kinda ruined her for me, thanksssss

Shalimar and Emiri: This is one I'm on the fence on. Design on its own, I really like. She's spooky and weird and the colours are great. I have to main issues. 1) does a 13 year old need such a sexual feeling witch and 2) does she link to her doppel well. The thing with curvaceous or sexualised witches is ones like Roberta I know are okay cause she was in her 30s when she became a witch. You could say some like Candeloro are sexualised cause she's got the booba and stick thin waist, it's kinda hard to deal with... I'm also finding it hard to judge cause I don't know if it suits Emiri, I don't know her character very well. So we'll just move on. If I drew it I would make her less adult-looking My other thought when looking at her beside her doppel was 'if this doppel came from this witch I would hate the fact it uses so little of the witch'. So switching it around, im a little mad they used so little of the doppel. It's like they had the idea for the body and wanted to use it and were like 'oh yeah! the doppel!' so stuck it on as a tail... Also the flower things on the doppel arent in the witch at all ughh. If she was just a new witch on her own id love her...

Vayu and Shizuku: Wow! One I actually finally like now! I think she looks super beautiful, the additions work! But she's not perfect... Just like Emiri and Shalimar, I don't see the doppel working if the witch came first. Why is her handbag now the head? It feels like the teapot(?) head on the witch came out of nowhere. But it's nowhere near as bad as Shalimar. She might be my favourite. I've always been 50/50 on Vayu and she improves that score.

Aodamo and Natsuki: This one's a bit boring... it just feels like they stuck on some additions and called it a day. I think if she was stood up straight I'd like her more... Love the teeth on the horn thing. Skirt is fine. Legs look awkward. Sad they removed her puffy sleeves, doesn't make sense as why the doppel would add that aspect.

Overall, it is a little annoying how clearly some of these are just super easy asset copies of the doppels with no effort put in... I think that's fine for say, Vayu as I think the doppel incorporation makes sense. She's a four legged beast so Shizuku is now riding her. But ones like Don Rocinante, Cyan and Aodamo seem like 5 minute attempts. I'm disappointed. Happy to see witches though, I'm only critical because I care about witches being good

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 5: Sacrifice

Contents | Part 4 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) Attending Sunday Mass leaves you confused and frustrated.

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, adult & sexual themes, religious imagery, infidelity, explicit sexual content including: penetrative sex, using, light choking & domination by reader. Readers must be 18+

You woke to the weight of an arm draped across your stomach, a nose nudging your shoulder, warming your skin with gentle breaths. You fought to open your eyes, turning your head and blinking past crystals of sleep to find Alfie nestled against your side. 

When he slept, it was easy to forget just how much things had changed. In sleep he regained his softness; a pretty face unsullied by cocky smiles and dismissive eye rolls, a warm body that reached for you in search of comfort in the middle of the night. 

Each night you would go to bed so certain it was over, that the bond between you was broken beyond repair. Only to wake the next morning and find him holding you as he slept, and - just for a while - you wondered if there was something salvageable in it all. 

"Morning," he croaked.

You hadn't realised he was awake, startling slightly at the sound of his voice. "Oh, morning." 

"You were talking in your sleep." 

"I was?" 

"Mhm. 'Alfie, oh god, Alfie'," he mimicked your voice in a breathy moan. 

"Yeah right." You chuckled sleepily. "You wish." 

He laughed too, eyes still closed as he nuzzled his face against your arm. "You really were talking in your sleep though. I swear you said something about the ten commandments." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. Think you're going to church too much." 

"Mm. Well I'm actually going again today." 

"Wow, you sure you're not planning to convert?" he joked. 

You gave a soft laugh. "I just like the atmosphere. And now Mara's looking to have the baby baptised there so I said I'd join her for mass." 

"What time will you be home?" 

"I'm not sure, why?" 

He shrugged. "Was just wondering. I feel like I've barely seen you since you started volunteering." 

You brought your hands up to rub your face, pressing the tips of your fingers into the inner corners of your eyes. "I mean, we weren't exactly spending tons of time together anyway." 

"Fair enough." He gave a resigned sigh and draped one leg over yours, cuddling closer. "Just one of those relationship ruts I suppose." 

Rut was not exactly the word you would have chosen. Demise, perhaps, collapse, unraveling, expiration, decay, ruin, death, failure-

"But we're good though, right?" he asked.

"Hm?" 

He placed a lazy kiss at the top of your arm. "Me and you, we're good?"

"Oh." You paused for a moment before nodding slightly, your words turning to mush in your mouth. "Yeah, I- We're... Fine." 

You'd grown so used to the guilt that the feeling had stopped fully going away. Instead it remained there in your chest, like a pilot light, always flickering as it waited for a reminder to ignite it again.

"Good," he said, kissing your arm once more, then your shoulder. "So what's your thoughts on a blow job then?" 

You turned to look at him, this time with an unamused expression. "I think it's a stupid name for something that involves no blowing whatsoever." 

He rolled his eyes, shifting closer, lips now pressing against your neck. "I meant what do you think to... you know..." 

"What? Sucking you off first thing in the morning? I'll pass, thanks." 

He drew the air in through his teeth with a quiet hiss, feigning offence, though you suspected there was some truth in it. 

"Okay," he said. "Well how about a quickie instead?"

You sighed. "I'm just... Not in the mood."

He surrendered, flopping back onto his side of the bed and staring up at the ceiling in defeat. 

"Sorry," you added. 

"It's fine. Would just be nice if you actually were in the mood from time to time." 

"If I was-? We had sex last week, Alfie, don't act like we never do it-"

"We don't. Not compared to how much we used to." 

You shook your head, breathing out a discontented laugh.

"I just mean, you complain I'm not attentive enough, but then I suggest sex and it's like you're not interested."

You sat up, twisting the top half of your body to face him. "Sticking your dick in something does not equal attentiveness."

"I was just trying to be a bit spontaneous, alright," he mumbled like a child. "Gina said girls like that." 

"Right, well firstly, I'm not a girl. And secondly, I'm not Gina." You climbed out of bed and began making your way towards the door. 

"Sorry, woman, whatever." 

You paused as you wrapped your fingers around the door handle. "Why are you getting relationship advice from Gina?" You turned to look at him. "Have you been talking to her about us?" 

He shrugged awkwardly. "Am I not allowed to?" 

"Allowed to what? Wait until I go out so you can sit around talking about me? About our sex life?" 

"And you're telling me you don't talk to anyone about those things?" 

You gave a shrug, your voice fading, as though the quieter you spoke, the less duplicitous your response would be. "Who would I talk to?" 

"I don't know, you seem quite pally with our lord and fucking saviour lately." 

"Oh, piss off Alfie." You opened the door and walked out of the room without another word.

When he slept, it may have been easy to forget. But the moment he woke, the fog was always quick to clear. 

There was a car waiting for you outside. It was expensive-looking, spotless, shiny, so big you wondered how it even fit down the narrow, congested road. You closed the front door behind you and hurried down the path, stopping when the passenger window began to roll down. 

"What the fuck are you wearing!?" Mara shouted from inside the car, a look of horror on her beautifully made-up face. 

You looked down at yourself, at your regular clothes that you thought looked quite nice, then back up to her. "What's wrong with it?" 

"Aren't you supposed to dress up? Like fancy?" 

"It's just mass," you said with a shrug. "No need really."

"Jesus. Right okay, whatever, just... can you come and get in, please." 

You walked to the back door, opening it to see a huge carseat strapped inside, baby Soleil squinting up at you in the sunlight. 

"Other side," said Mara. 

"Yep," you replied before shutting the door and walking around the car. 

You climbed in, glancing at your sister in the front passenger seat and pressing your lips together to hide a smirk. 

You could see now why your appearance had bothered her; her hair was swept up and decorated like she was attending a wedding, her makeup perfect, cream coloured dress immaculate. Her husband Nathan sat in the drivers seat wearing a shirt and tie, expensive watch peeking out from under the sleeve of his brown peacoat. 

"So we're overdressed, then?" he asked casually as he began to drive. 

"It's fine, people wear all sorts," you replied. "I tend to stick around after the service to help out so I like to be comfortable, I suppose..." 

"Seat belt," said Mara sternly.

You pulled it around you and clipped it in, glancing over at Soleil as she slept, her tiny body swallowed in a dress of flowers and frills, the carseat strapped and buckled to within an inch of its life. 

Your eyes flitted back to Mara, watching her flip down the sun visor and examine herself in the mirror. 

"You look nice," you said. 

"Mm," she replied, unconvinced. "I was already worried it might be a bit slutty-"

"Slutty?"

"Y'know, by the church's standards."

Nathan glanced at you in the rearview mirror as he drove. "She's worried she might be showing too much skin, whereas I'm worried she might burst into flames the second she sets foot inside."

You smirked.

She swatted his arm. "If Ellis didn't burn then I think I'm good." 

"Nice one, thanks," you scoffed. 

"How did you end up friends with a priest, anyway?" Nathan asked. 

"I started volunteering at his church. It's pretty self explanatory." 

"All sounds a bit kinky if you ask me."

"Nathan," said Mara sternly, before turning to look at you. "It does though." 

You rolled your eyes. "Is it not possible that I could just be doing something nice? Y'know, for the community?" 

"No," she replied bluntly. 

By the time you got to the church, the small carpark was almost full. You got out and walked ahead with Mara, leaving Nathan to wrestle with the baby's carseat alone. 

This was the most you'd talked in a while, the most time you'd spent in her company without feeling like she was counting down the minutes until she could get away. You wondered what had changed, if this was progress, or if it was all temporary. 

"Do my tits look okay?" she asked, high heels clacking against the path. 

You looked at her from the corner of your eye, before dropping your gaze to her chest. "They look fine..." 

"I mean they're not too... in your face? And they're not leaking, are they?" 

"No, they're not leaking." 

"Good, I wore two lots of breast pads today just to make s..." she trailed off as you reached the church steps. 

You watched as she stared up at the building, her face turning hard and angular as she ground her teeth, balling her hands into fists, squeezing and releasing, pressing her nails into her palms. 

"I don't do churches," she said quietly. 

You cleared your throat and swallowed. "Yeah, me neither." 

"What are you talking about? You said you come all the time." 

"Well I suppose this one's not so bad." 

She dallied on the bottom few steps. It reminded you of the first service you ever came to, how you'd stood outside for so long that you missed the entire thing. 

"Is it the incense-y smell?" you asked. "Because you get used to it."

"No, Ellis, it's not the-" She huffed. "Let's just get this over with."

You went inside and showed her the back pew where you usually sat, letting out a sigh when she ignored you and moved closer to the front. You begrudgingly followed, shuffling in to sit beside her. Nathan joined soon after, making you move up so he could sit down. 

It felt weird being there with them, like they were intruding on a fortress you'd built; a place that had been only yours for so long. This was your sanctuary, your reverie, and they were invading it. 

A bell rang, followed by June asking everyone to stand. You elbowed Mara and she reluctantly rose to her feet, looking around curiously as the entrance hymn began. You knew by now what that music meant; it meant Father Benedict was there, about to walk down the aisle with his candle bearers, make eye contact with you for a split second as he passed. 

Mara peered over her shoulder to the back of the room, finally getting a glimpse of him for the first time, before turning her head back to you slowly with a judgmental glare. 

"What?" you whispered. 

"Volunteering my arse." 

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders. 

"You-" she stopped suddenly when the congregation began to sing, pretending to mouth along with the words for a moment before leaning in to continue whispering. "You've not been coming here out of the goodness of your own heart. You've been coming here to perv. On that." She pointed at Father Benedict as he approached the altar. 

You gasped softly, placing a hand on your chest in feigned outrage. "I can't believe you think I'd do something like that." 

"I think you would absolutely do something like that."

You stared at her for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Look, it's fine, it's not like anything's going to happen. He doesn't- He's not-" You huffed. "He's a priest."

"Tall, sexy priest." 

"That's your opinion."

She scoffed quietly, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek. 

"Mara. I'm with Alfie, and I'm not a cheat."

"Hm." 

She'd never liked Alfie, and at first it seemed petty, nothing more than a shallow dislike, a clash of character. But perhaps she'd sensed something, like a dog able to sniff out a seed of cancer before it began to spread. 

"Look, I met him by chance," you whispered. "And he's become a good friend, that's it. I've been having a rough time and he's been supporting me through it." 

"Does he think you're religious?" 

You paused. "There's a chance he might think I'm... interested in converting." 

"Why on earth would he think that?" 

"Because I told him so." 

"Christ, Ellis," she hissed. "You can't-"

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," Father Benedict's voice echoed through the chapel. 

"Amen," said the congregation in unison.

"Amen," you mumbled, sitting down along with everyone else. 

"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all," he said. 

"And with your spirit," everyone replied.

"With your spirit," Mara muttered distractedly, too busy looking at you; watching you watch him, like she was waiting for your face to give you away. 

"Brethren," he said. "Let us acknowledge our sins, and so prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries." 

You tried to relax the muscles in your face; tilting your head a little, lips parting slightly, as though the softer you made yourself, the less she would be able to decipher, like a puzzle piece with no edges, a crossword without lines. 

But when Father Benedict glanced in your direction, you suddenly found your composure harder to keep. Though it was not from lust, but pure aggravation. Your brows came together, just for a moment, eyes narrowing as you watched him avoid your gaze. 

"I confess to almighty God," he began, leading a prayer. "And to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do..." 

In what I have done and in what I have failed to do. 

You'd never understood that part before - 'failed to do' - how could there possibly be sin in doing nothing? But you were starting to get it; realising how the moments when neither of you said anything were somehow the most dangerous. Maybe that was why he wasn't looking at you. 

"Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault," he continued.  

The words burned, and there was a part of you that believed he wanted them to, like a searing reminder of your last conversation earlier that week. 

You sat in the passenger seat of his car, folding your train ticket back and forth like a paper fan and lamenting the extra money you'd spent on the return you hadn't ended up needing. The drive back from his old parish had been uncharacteristically quiet; Father Benedict insisting on taking you home, yet barely speaking, instead focusing on the road ahead as you watched the world rush by through the window.

The car rolled to a stop against the kerb, the engine cutting out as you looked over at your house. It was so quiet, no lights on despite the sun beginning to set, rainwater dripping from the broken gutter onto an Amazon package that hadn't been taken inside. 

You sighed and turned to Father Benedict, eyes falling to his hands as they remained on the steering wheel, anchoring him to it. 

"Well thank you," you finally said, pressing your mouth into a straight line smile. "I enjoyed today." 

"Good," he said, nodding politely. "Thank you for joining me." 

"No problem." 

You reached for the handle, forcing the stiff door open slightly when his voice made you stop.

"You asked if I sinned during my time away..."  

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye before slowly pulling the door closed again.

"Ask me..." he continued, his voice slow, controlled. "What you really wanted to ask me." 

"I... I don't-"

"Ask me."

You fell quiet, drawing in a deep breath through your nose and holding it in your chest, like you were trying to keep the words down, unwilling to let them surface. 

"Ask me, Ellis." 

You exhaled softly. "Did you... Break your vow of celibacy?" 

"No," he replied quickly, as though he knew all along what your question was going to be. "And I won't."

You chewed your lip for a moment before raising your eyebrows playfully. "Sounds like a challenge." 

But he didn't seem to find it funny. 

"That was a joke," you added.

His face finally broke, a soft laugh escaping his nose as he shook his head and looked away from you. "I can't," he said quietly.

"I didn't ask you to..."

"No, I know. I just- I needed to say it out loud, for myself."

"And for him?" You flitted your eyes towards the sky. 

He turned his attention back to you, eyes locking with yours as his grip tightened around the steering wheel, making your stomach burn with a deep, sudden heat. 

"You think I'm a test," you finally said. "That's what you meant, back at the church, you said god sent me to you."

He broke eye contact for a second, disappearing into his thoughts before returning to you with a softer, more amiable gaze. "Well, when said aloud like that it sounds awfully narcissistic of me." 

"Yeah, sort of does."

"I just... you have a way of looking at me-"

"Like you're not a priest," you said, repeating his own words back to him. 

"Yes." 

"Is that such a bad thing?" 

There was another long silence, his eyes never leaving you. 

"Yes." 

You slumped slightly against the back of the pew and let out a huff.

"May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life," Father Benedict's voice echoed. 

"Amen," you muttered softly. 

Another hymn began and you groaned as everyone rose to their feet. You never sang along with the hymns. Never had; not here, not even in school assemblies as a child. Instead you would just move your lips to the song, only pretending to be part of it all.

Soleil began to fuss, finally stealing your sister's attention. You seized the moment to look over at him, your eyes catching his like they always did during his services. But instead of a smile, a pause or a shy bow of his head, he quickly looked away. 

You continued to watch him as he lead the congregation in prayer. The church fell silent, the pews transforming into a sea of stooped heads and closed eyes, all except for yours. You knew he could see you, despite pretending he couldn't. It was hard to miss you; right there near the front, back straight, eyes fixed on him.

"What did you mean when you said you've been having a rough time?" Mara whispered as the first reader stepped up to the ambo. 

You turned to look at her before shaking your head dismissively. "Nothing." 

"Tell me." 

"It's-" You stopped, distracted by the man's loud voice as he began to read. "It's nothing, honestly. Just... I've been feeling... stuck. I don't-"

"Is it because of Christmas?"

"No." 

"Because you know all of that, it was just... I was-"

"It's not about Christmas," you whispered through gritted teeth. "Trust me, you've blown up on me enough times in my life for it to be more traumatising when you're nice." 

"That's a horrible thing to say." 

You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to Father Benedict as he stepped forward again. 

"Thank you, Peter," he said, gesturing for the reader to go and sit down. "Now..." He paused, clearing his throat and gripping the ambo with both hands. "As I prepared my reading for today's Mass, I felt myself drawn to a certain verse from Corinthians..."

"We're very different people," Mara whispered. "You get on my tits, but it doesn't mean I want you to be miserable. You're still my sister." 

"It's not about Christmas," you repeated slowly. 

"It's easy sometimes," said Father Benedict. "To feel as though you are not in control. To feel that you are... Too weak to withstand the tests God puts before you." 

Mara huffed, leaning in to whisper. "What is it then? Money? Relationship? Have-"

"Ssshhh." You batted her away gently, your ears pricking with intrigue at the priest's words. 

"Which is why I've chosen to read this verse specifically," he continued, eyes falling to the bible in front of him. "No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it."

You narrowed your eyes. And though he still hadn't looked in your direction, it was clear his words were not intended for anyone else but you, not really. 

"It's important we remember that the strength of our temptations - no matter how powerful, how irresistible they may seem - are never greater than the strength God provides us to resist them."

You gave a disgruntled scoff, louder than you'd intended, causing a few people to glance in your direction. His eyes flitted towards you too, connecting with yours in a glacial stare, and you suddenly felt yourself shrinking into your seat. 

"Sorry," you muttered to the people around you. 

He coughed into his fist before returning his grip to the ambo in front of him, the same way he'd clung to the steering wheel that evening. "So... Erm..." He stalled, as though the contents of his mind had leaked out of him, leaving him empty, vacant. He shook his head and blinked a few times. "Sorry, I- As I was saying..." 

"I take it you're the temptation," Mara whispered as she leaned into you. 

"Of course I'm not." 

Your back was starting to ache, the hard, wooden pew unforgiving of your bad posture. You rolled your shoulders, tipping your head from side to side as another collective prayer came to an end. 

You hadn't paid attention to anything since Father Benedict's reading, not even bothering to move your lips along with the hymns or mumble the prayers. 

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

You felt a fire kindling at the base of your chest, turning the air in your lungs to steam as it left you in hot, irritated breaths. Was that really how he saw you? Something to escape? To endure? Were you really nothing more than a lesson to him? An annotation he could slip between the chapters of Corinthians and shut away on a shelf?

"May the Body of Christ keep me safe for eternal life," he said, taking a sip from a large chalice. "May the Blood of Christ keep me safe for eternal life."

People began to rise, shuffling out into the aisle and forming a queue as he stood at the altar. You watched as one by one they stepped forward, taking a wafer into their mouths, a sip of wine.

The strength of our temptations - no matter how powerful, how irresistible they may seem - are never greater than the strength God provides us to resist them. 

You found yourself rising from your seat, as though your mind and body had split into two separate entities; one frozen, ruminating, the other taking action. 

"What are you doing?" Mara whispered. "You're not Catholic." 

You didn't reply as you stepped out into the aisle and made your way to the back of the queue. 

It was like his words had drawn you from your seat; goaded you, teased you. Like he'd left a message for you between the lines of his readings, one that told you he wasn't going to give in, that you were something he was more than capable of resisting. But as you stood there waiting, the line slowly moving closer towards the altar, your mind and body regained their synergy, and they were both saying the exact same thing:

He thought you were a test. Perhaps it was about time you started behaving like one.  The woman in front of you stepped forward, receiving her communion and bowing her head before stepping aside, leaving nothing but empty space between you and Father Benedict. His lips parted softly as his eyes met yours, his body stilling for a moment in a blend of shock and confusion. 

You shouldn't have been up there. You both knew it. But he didn't stop you. Instead he remained silent as you stepped forward, his jaw tight, gaze searing as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. 

You stared up at him through your lashes, the sight of him standing before you creating a wave of excitement deep in your stomach, rippling through your body with hair-raising shivers. The moment felt eternal, the air so thick it made everything around you turn blurry and quiet. But you didn't care. 

"Body of Christ," he said in a deep, husky voice, a reluctance in his tone that only you could hear.

You opened your mouth and slowly stuck out your tongue, never breaking eye contact with him as he took a wafer and placed it there, his thumb lingering, finger gently grazing the underside of your chin before he pulled away. 

Your heart was pounding, desire pooling between your thighs as you knelt at his feet, letting the wafer melt in your mouth, knowing he was picturing something else entirely sliding down your throat. 

You stepped through the front door and stripped off your coat, throwing it lazily over the banister before rushing up the stairs. Your skin felt hot, cheeks flushed, palms sweaty, but it was your core that burned hottest, as though it was completely engulfed in flames. 

You bounded down the landing towards your bedroom, opening the door to an empty room and an unmade bed, a crumpled church newsletter glaring at you from the bin in the corner. It was like he was everywhere, you could feel him everywhere right now; on your neck, your tongue, in the throbbing ache between your legs. You squirmed, pressing your thighs together for a moment before closing the door and walking to Alfie's room instead. 

You didn't knock, stepping inside and closing the door behind you, pressing your back against it as you looked at him. He was sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with different lenses on his camera, failing to even look up when you entered the room. You didn't know if he was still angry about this morning or simply too engrossed in what he was doing to notice your presence. 

Right now, you didn't care. 

You walked over, standing in front of him and reaching down to take his face in your hands. You tipped his head back to look up at you, reminded of the way you'd looked up at Father Benedict earlier, how powerless yet simultaneously powerful you'd felt on your knees before him. 

"What-"

You interrupted him with a kiss, lips crashing against his in a desperate need to be sated. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, making him groan and set his equipment aside to place his hands on your waist. But the touch you felt didn't belong to him. 

You snaked your fingers impatiently to the hem of his t-shirt, dragging it over his head and throwing it away, your nails grazing the bare skin of his chest - Father Benedict's chest, so smooth and strong, shoulders broad, back slender and toned. 

"What's got into you?" Alfie asked breathlessly. 

"Shush," you dismissed, removing your own top before returning your lips to his. 

Your hands fumbled with his jeans, popping them open and trying to drag them down. He shifted his hips off the bed, letting them fall before reaching up and working to unclip your bra. You could almost feel Father Benedict's long, agile fingers making light work of it, peeling it from your body and taking your breasts in his palms. Those palms, usually pressed together in prayer, now squeezing and pulling and kneading, drawing moans from your open mouth. 

You undid your trousers and kicked them off, pushing him back onto the bed as you kissed him. He traced his touch down your bare back, squeezing your hips, and you could feel yourself burning hotter, his rough handling of your body exactly what you needed. You straddled him, feeling his solid erection waiting beneath you, and you wondered if he was hard today in the church, if seeing you on your knees, tongue out, waiting, was enough to leave him aching too. 

You felt fingertips between your thighs, slipping past the thin cotton of your underwear to dip inside you. A moan escaped you, the friction making you roll your hips. 

Alfie sighed with pleasure. "Fuck, Ellis, you're so wet-"

You pressed your index finger to his lips to silence him, reaching down to free his cock and wasting no time in placing it at your entrance. You closed your eyes as you sank down onto it, picturing your priest laying beneath you; dark curls messy and sticking to his forehead, eyes fixed on you, hands guiding the rock of your hips. 

You imagined the conflict; the forbidden words he would mutter to himself, the shame and regret that would just make him fuck you harder. You moaned, leaning forward to kiss him as you moved, feeling his lips trail from your mouth to your neck, making their way to your nipples as Alfie's always did. 

You placed a hand gently around his throat, pushing his head back against the bed. "Don't ruin it," you whispered breathlessly.

"Fuck," he groaned, too overwhelmed with pleasure to protest.

You began to move faster, sitting up and letting your head fall back, feeling your priest beneath you once more. He thrust into you as you ground your hips, the feeling so electrifying you felt it coursing through your veins. You were going to come, the realisation as shocking as it was blissful. You cried out, biting your lip to stop his name from spilling out as your rhythm stuttered, a deep, intense wave of pleasure ripping through you. 

You were shaking as you came to a stop, chest heaving, beads of sweat trickling down your back. 

"Oh my god," said Alfie with a breathy laugh. "I think that's the best sex we've ever had."

You opened your eyes to an off white ceiling, slowly bringing your head forward until you were looking down at the face of the man beneath you. A face you should have been glad to see, but it wasn't the one you wanted.  

Part 6

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[clonerightsagenda]

Scavengers Reign episode 7:

At work today I talked about this show with a coworker and reflected while I'd like to be Ursula (patient, curious, enamored with the natural world) I would probably be Sam (just wants to get off this fucking planet and take a real shower). I then observed that the women seem to be doing a lot better so far vis a vis not getting maimed and eaten by wildlife, and idk if that's some gender essentialist commentary on women being ~more in tune with nature~ or just a coincidence. Misandrist planet? Then it occurred to me that maybe the planet just doesn't like white people which, given white people's track record when arriving in new places, is entirely fair. To test which of these hypotheses may be true we must deploy a white woman and see what happens to her.

Ok let's start the episode.

Oh shit they actually did deploy a white woman. And I have to say just based on the music during her entrance I think she is going to be bad news.

The ridiculous contrast between the blond guy waking up on the Demeter and immediately getting bitten by like 5 different types of wildlife versus these lunar miners who showed up, cheerfully looked at the sky, and then intentionally hyperventilated themselves until they fainted with no ill effects.

The kid? How old is Barry? Hard to tell with the way these people are drawn.

Plant that's literally an umbrella

Ursula you're just going to get on her bed?? Rude.

Hey Ursula if you hadn't been going through a stranger's stuff maybe you would've noticed her planting some weird seed in your buddy. I'm wondering if this woman is what Ursula might become after her exposure - a human who kept their body and some of their agency but is hosting something else.

For fucks sake psychic baby what is even your problem. I shouldn't anthropomorphize but it seems genuinely angry at the lunar miners' ship and I'm not sure why.

Getting SI5 vibes from this trio. "Congrats! You're rescued! Psyche!"

Is that a fucking elder god??

Ursula: Wow! That is upsetting even for me!

Oh also something we discussed was that maybe the Sam clone grew clothes because the show did not want to animate full frontal clone parasite junk which is their prerogative but it made me realize that while the show contains lots of organs, lovingly described, I don't think I've seen any creatures with visible genitalia? I haven't been looking or anything, but still. This is American media in a nutshell. I remember watching a French cartoon in French class and the whole class going :O !! because they drew a dog with its balls still on. Scavengers Reign balls cut when

[speedydestinydream]

I understand the transmasc Jake headcanon and I think it's very neat but have you ever considered...

Transfem Jake?

Not enough people talk about the idea of transfem Jake, honestly.

(Though, with most characters in the TMF fandom, when people headcanon them as trans they usually headcanon them as transitioning to the canon gender they are in the show originally—Ex. Headcanoning Zander to be FtM/Headcanoning Daisy to be MtF)

It has so much potential !!! Here, I'll give a few ideas:

Ex. 1. Jake trying to figure out whether or not she (I'm just gonna use she/her for talking about transfem jake) has a crush on Daisy, or if she wants to be Daisy and is simply getting extreme gender envy from her. (Spoiler alert: It's probably both.)

Ex. 2. Jake comes out to her friend group and they're all supportive and whatnot and all that good stuff. Henry thinks he finally has a chance with Lia. nope. Lia is still in love with Jake either way. (Pansexual Lia... hell yeah.)

Ex. 3. Lia and Zoey help Jake with her transition. Helping her figure out how to put on makeup, helping her pick out reasonable stylish outfits, taking her out on girl's nights with them, defending her with their lives. I know Zoey despises Jake... buuuuut I'm gonna ignore that for the sake of fluff. Maybe they just develop a frenemy kind of bond. (Ignore canon.)

Ex. 4. Jake comes out to the music club and Hailey is extremely proud of the fact that they gained one more female club member. (Milly is jumping up and down and celebrating this.)

Ex. 5. Jake comes out to her family. Milo still doubts her ability to get girls, whether identifying as a boy or girl. Jake is extremely offended.

Ex. 6. In freshman year of highschool, Daisy is the first person Jake confides in about her gender struggles.

Ex. 7. Jake loses a bet with her friends and puts on a dress. Refusing to admit it, she actually feels extremely confident in it. She secretly buys the dress, keeping it in her closet, hoping for the day she could wear it in public.

Ex. 8. Oh wow, Angst. - The angst potential is STRONG. I know how much this fandom loves angst.

Jake is in an all guy friend group—well, atleast her closest friends are guys. She might feel extremely out of place, like she didn't belong, even with her group of friends. The emotions from her past of being friendless and out of place strike back to her as she realizes she feels nothing like all her other friends, and even her own body makes her feel out of place now. She ends up starting to slowly drift way from Drew, Henry, and Liam, refusing to admit what's wrong.

Ex. 9. (Still angst) - Middle school Jake would often stay up late at night, occasionally accidentally pulling all nighters, looking at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out what was so wrong with her that she felt this way.

Ex. 10.

Jake: *is coming out as transfem and stuff and stuff yknow*

Zander: *rests hand on Jake's shoulder* Don't worry, this doesn't change how I feel about you in the slighest.

Jake: Aw, thanks-

Zander: I still think you are a cocky asshole.

Jake:

These are just some things I made up on the spot. Some might not be that interesting, i know. I have many great transfem jake ideas but they all just fucking left me when i decided to write this. Curse you stupid brain. If my good ideas come back I'll be sure to add more on to it in a reblog.

In all honesty, the most accurate depiction of transfem Jake would probably just be...

Jake thinking—"Heh, I'm such a ladies man," to "Oh shit.. maybe I'M a lady!"

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 360: That was Then, This is Now, p12

What remained of the upstairs apartment door swings open and crashes into the wall with a sharp >bang< as the two Others enter, say hello to the two receptionists who are with him.

“Bianca, Sammi hi he-“

“Crikey Aubs what the fuck?”

“Y-yeah someone broke in and-”

“And Jesus are you leaking?”

“N-no, uh, that’s just his, uh-”

“Thanks Aubrey we’ll take it from here.”

“b-but-“

“It’s okay, really.”

“Yeah, Olivia sent us. So piss off.”

“She wanted us to come up and take care of him…”

Lights are flickering overhead.

“We’ve got tits, too. See?”

“…and she’s the boss, right?”

The red haired woman’s voice is full of something powerful.

“R-right.”

“You should probably go too, Nadia.”

“Right.”

Two young women exit, leaving two behind with him. A door closes. 

They crouch down, one on either side. They study his face, his eyes moving in dream behind half-closed lids. The redhead reaches out, holds them open, gazes deep into him….

“Do you see what’s happening in there?”

“It’s, like, some kind of wonky protective charm.”

“Yep. But we can fix that.”

The redhead’s two hands go to his temples. Lights flicker anew as she begins to tap his skull with her fingernails: <clickety-clickety-click> The whites of his eyes change color as something fuchsin runs through their veins. 

"You saw what was happening in there? That was then. Let’s show him now."

“Haha bonkers. But Emily said-“

“Shut up. Now give him a kiss...”

…

I felt an immediate chill. The room, everything around me suddenly felt strange, a little different, certainly a little colder as my front desk girl, Aubrey, abruptly released me from her comforting embrace. I blushed, having just been held to her full young bosom, and noticed that the shadows in the office seemed deeper, and longer. Static crackled over the big band tunes coming from my new RCA desktop radio, and I saw there was a crack in one of my office windows…and it was growing. The girls, my medical assistants, had checked me out, making sure I hadn’t hurt myself moving that vending machine. Now that I think about it, how on earth had I done that? 

Lakshmi, Josie, Amelia - and is that Marisela? She’s wearing so much makeup - surrounded me. Someone was pouring me a whisky from my servette and another was now playing with the radio unit, changing channels, looking for the news. 

Something was about to happen.  Knock knock sweetie..! called a familiar voice from the door. Bodies around me shifted, away, and I looked to see-

Melissa!

Haha w-wow look at you! I said from behind the small crowd of women, someone less assured than I would have blushed from hearing the shaking in my voice. I was sure it was nothing to worry about. Always dressed to the nines for the office, Melissa naturally drew all eyes to her. She took my breath away, actually. You look like the b-bee’s knees! I said. 

Oh thank you sweetie! she sang, feigning a blush at my compliment as she stood in the doorway of the room. My girlfriend - how long had we been seeing one another? - was a real looker. A tall drink of water, for sure - almost as tall as me! And the figure on her? The knockers and those gams? Wow! She wore high heels and had my coffee, my morning joe, steaming hot and hopefully just as I liked it: black! 

She came in, the <click-clack-click> of her high heels echoing strangely loud, staccato against the new linoleum of my office floor. Is that a new dress, doll? I asked as I stood for the lady, obviously impressed with her appearance. Who wouldn’t be? 

<clickety-click-click> Really loud. Weird. When she reached me we were eye-to-eye; in fact haha in those heels she was a bit taller. You look like a m-million bucks. 

Take a picture, dreamboat, she purred in a private whisper, reaching to straighten my tie, her sparkling eyes on mine and a curl to her smile, it’ll last longer. 

I couldn’t help it, my eyes dropped down to her tits. Cleavage bulged above the neckline of her blue, polka-dot dress and I got a whiff of her Chanel N-…Huh. No…was she wearing something new? Whatever it was, the flowery scent gave me an immediate boner! That, and it reminded me of, wow, what we’d been doing in bed together recently. Those words she’d started using with me when we were alone, in the dark: ‘good boy’, ‘my little man’, ‘mama’s baby’…

Wow, she was really sumpthin’ else...

Eyes up here, tiger, she giggled softly, and took a step back to let me watch her set her shoulders, making sure to keep my interest. Here’s your coffee, boss, she continued, interrupting my reverie and sudden lapse of composure. Now the whole room was watching us. I put a little milk in it this morning for you, to help the tummy, she told me.

Oh, um, thanks, I replied, looking around awkwardly as the girls around me giggled. Something strange was happening.

Now, I heard something about you being very brave. Is that right? Melissa cooed, taking a step forward back towards me. Instinctively, for some reason, I took a step back.

Oh yes, Marisela chimed in, an acerbic edge to her voice I hadn’t heard earlier, You should have seen it. Dr. Jay pulled a vending machine right off of Mr. Kowalczyk. Had Marisela always been this <gulp> busty? Her black blouse had…wow, someone should tell her…popped a button. Or maybe three...

He was brave, very brave, Lakshmi cooed. Oh my gosh the way she swung her hips.

You would have been so proud, chimed in Josie.

Oh I am proud, I am so proud of our big, strong man, Melissa crowed indulgently, our brave boy.

Our knight in shining armor! Aubrey offered.  So brave, Lakshmi cooed.

The girls crept closer to me, surrounding me from all sides. They were praising me, but it didn't feel like praise. It felt like…something else.

So fucking brave, drawled Amelia.

This was weird, right? Something was slipping away from me, and it felt like my authority. I was the man here! I had to take control! And I couldn’t let that lapse in office propriety go. 

P-Please watch your language? I spoke to Amelia, wincing when I heard my voice crack, unsettled by the lack of conviction I heard in it. Amelia’s breasts seemed larger as well, larger than I remembered. Looking at them made me feel somehow smaller, and like I shouldn’t have dared to discipline her. 

Her long nails began to tap in rhythm on the desk. <clickety-clickety-click> <clickety-clickety-click>

Melissa had stepped up to me, and now grabbed me by the tie. She pulled me in for a kiss - wow, what a kiss! - that sent electric shocks all the way down to my toes. It even made the lights in the room hum and flicker! My eyes rolled in my head as her tongue took over my mouth. Someone had made sure my desk chair was right behind me and good thing because when Melissa released me my legs gave out and I fell backwards into it. 

The girls had begun to clap, again. <clap clap clap!> Why? What?

<clap clap clap!>

From my chair I looked up at Melissa.

Do I look taller from down there? she asked. 

Wh-what?

<clickety-clickety-click>

I know you like tall girls, she pressed, and I asked: do I look taller from way…down…there?

She inched forward a bit, peering down her nose at me. She’d begun to take hold of the hem of her short skirt. S-something strange was happening.

<clap clap clap!>

<clickety-clickety-click!>

Taller? Melissa continued, Bigger?

<clap clap clap!> wh-where is that coming from?

She began to turn around…

Let me show you how big I’ve gotten, sweetie, she purred, slowly lifting her skirts and bending over at the waist, how big I am now, back here…

M-Melissa w-w-wait! I sputtered, what are you d-???

My voice froze and I gasped as it came into view. Fucking Jesus Christ what’s happened?!? It was huge!

<clap clap clap clap clap clap>

<clickety-clickety-click>

I heard Melissa giggle and she put her hands down on the desk, cocked her mountainous hips up, towards me. Her frilly skirt was bundled about her waist. She was not wearing panties. 

Stand up. Show us how much of a man you are. 

<clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap…>

=====================================

[hermanunworthy]

can i request 23 for oakworthy? :3c

Charmed (In Your Arms)

23: carrying the other one in their arms

from the touch prompts list!

kai i KNOW u chose this one bc of that one hcs ask and ily for it bc i have been waiting for an excuse to write something about it teehee

also on ao3!

In a perfectly ideal fantasy (of which he has many), Hermie would be the most charming of princes, dressed in an expensive suit, whisking his bride away into the sunset in his very capable arms. The princess, in her elegant white gown, would swoon over his admirable strength, calling him her hero, and he would kiss her cheek with a dashing smile. A choir of birds and angels would sing in harmony, following them into the distance as the curtains drew on their love story.

But “happily ever after” just doesn't seem to be quite in Hermie’s reach yet. Because… Well…

“Wh-Whoa! ” the prince cries out as the weight of the mannequin in their arms tips them over and crushes them on the floor. For–well, not the first time.

…Hermie might not be the best at everything in acting.

They shove the wretched doll off of their definitely-now-bruised body and sit up with a groan. They have to get this down, if they’re ever going to stand a chance auditioning for the prince in the school play. What kind of Prince Charming can't sweep his princess off her feet?

Hermie may have been known for their wonderful acting abilities, but not exactly for their physical capabilities. And though they know the school’s theatre department is not one to typecast, as they’ve been able to land a variety of roles before… a scrawny kid like them is not exactly their first choice for this particular character. It’s not an easy feat to pretend to be a powerful, masculine man when you're just a pathetic non-binary teen who can't even lift a chair without breaking a sweat.

They brush themself off in embarrassment, feeling as though an entire audience has just witnessed their blunder. “Once more, with feeling this time!” they mutter to themself, although the only feeling they have left in them is frustration (and aching pain).

They crouch down to pick the mannequin back up, expecting it to be a herculean task with how tired their arms are, but find lifting it to be a breeze, all of a sudden. Perhaps they really are settling into their role–

“Hi, Hermie! What’s the mannequin for?”

Standing on the other side of the mannequin, holding up its body effortlessly, is Normal. When did he get in here?

Normal is, shockingly, not in the mascot costume at the moment. Standing backstage with his messy hair and casual clothes, it would be easy to mistake him for stage crew. But Hermie is one of the few people who are used to what Normal looks like underneath Teeny. Well, maybe “used to” isn't the right way to put it, in Hermie’s case. Seeing Normal so plainly like this is startling to them, in a way. He looks so much smaller when he’s not in the bulky suit.

The thespian masks his shock by taking on his princely persona once again, giving a stage bow before standing straight and tall (it hurts his back a bit though, since he’s still unlearning his awful Joker posture). “Greetings, Normally.” He rests a hand on the mannequin’s shoulder, as though it really is his betrothed. “I am simply practicing for our future wedding.”

“Oh!” Normal’s cheek flush. “That’s… Oh! You mean, like… the princess! At the end of the play! Oh wow, you're trying out for the…” He trails off as he stares at him, his blush steadily deepening.

“Prince Charming himself, yes,” Hermie finishes for him while he’s still starstruck. His polite smile shifts into a smirk. “It would appear my charms are already working?”

Normal tries to laugh it off, but he’s visibly sweating as much as he does when he’s been at cheer practice. “Ha, yeah, you're uh, doing a great job…” He clears his throat and shakes his head a little. “But, uh. I actually came because a teacher asked me to grab those chairs that got taken in here yesterday?” He points behind Hermie at a stack of chairs sitting against the wall. “I-I wasn't, like, expecting you to be in here, too.”

“Ah, of course.” The prince gestures for him to go ahead, trying to scoot the mannequin out of the way but failing.

The mascot kid scurries past him, clarifying while walking backwards, “Not that I mind seeing you! I'm glad I saw you!” In his distraction, he ends up bumping his back into the chairs. Once again, he laughs it off.

He turns around, grips the base of the bottom chair, and somehow lifts the entire stack with ease.

It's easy to forget just how strong Normal is. Despite his lack of height or a jock-like attitude, this little sophomore can lift. Hermie just doesn't understand how he's able to support an entire pyramid of cheerleaders, with those very arms, just hidden underneath the arms of his costume. Now that is talent.

That's it! Inspiration strikes Hermie (as well as jealousy, but he can handle that just fine, as he has had to before).

“Normal, wait,” he says without thinking it through first. He instantly realizes that doesn't know what he’s doing. Asking Normal for help is admitting that he can't do it himself. He’s supposed to be confident, capable, not asking a school mascot to teach him how to carry his own bride.

But it’s too late, because Normal is literally dropping everything for him right now. He places the chairs back down on the floor immediately and turns back to him with his full attention. “Yes, Hermie? What do you need?”

A truly loyal knight he would make. Perhaps this is a better way to look at this situation: simply the prince calling on a trusted guard to aid him.

The thespian straightens himself again and tries to put on an authoritative air. “The teacher requested you specifically, I imagine, because you are notably strong, correct?”

“Uh…” Normal glances at the stack of chairs. “I mean, I guess? She knows I do cheer.”

Hermie nods. “Yes, and you are able to carry people with great ease, as I have seen.”

The cheerleader scratches the back of his neck bashfully. “I don't know if I’d call it ‘great ease’, but…”

“Normal, do you happen to be familiar with the bridal carry position?”

Normal jumps a little at the question. “I… am, why?” There’s a nervous but somewhat hopeful twinkle in his eye.

Hermie wraps an arm around the mannequin's waist. “I might acquire some… assistance, in preparation for the big day.” He curses his face for beginning to heat up in shame, but at least it’s underneath his makeup. Still, he shouldn't be averting his eyes.

When he directs them back at Normal, he finds his expression to be much more openly flustered than him. As is the mascot kid’s near-constant state, it seems. “Oh, yeah! I’d–I’d love to help! What do…” He swings his arms back and forth. “What’s holding you up about it?”

What’s holding him up is that he can't hold this thing up. “Might I demonstrate with this, and you may critique?”

Normal stops his swinging motion. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

As soon as Hermie turns toward the mannequin again, the regret starts to hit him. This audience of one is somehow much more pressure on him than the crowds of eyes he’s used to having watch him. His hands hover over the mannequin’s body awkwardly, like a young teen not knowing how to hold their partner at their first dance. He hasn't felt this kind of stage fright in years.

Eventually, his arms settle somewhere along the torso and legs, and, with his breath held, tries this time to just tip the mannequin over and then catch its weight, hoping that that'll make it easier. However, it only ends up starting to pull him down with it, and he lets go before he can go through the even-more-humiliating ordeal of having Normal watch him fall again.

And then Normal laughs. He tries to stifle it with his hand, but it was impossible to miss. Hermie’s cheeks only burn more, as if he’s standing under unbearable stage lights and not just in the dim backstage area.

“Sorry, sorry. I just don't think the mannequin is working for you, man!” He walks over and picks it back up for him. “It and you are too stiff to make it happen!” He looks Hermie over briefly, before chirping, “Here, you gotta do it like this!”

And before Hermie can even protest, he’s being scooped from the floor in one sweeping motion. Normal’s hands, warm though the prince’s clothes, cradle his back and the crooks of his knees. As though he’s nothing more than a pillow resting in his arms.

Even though his hold is steady, Hermie involuntarily swings their arms around the cheerleader’s neck with a very unprincely squeak. The back of his neck is sticky with sweat, but they hang on for dear life anyway.

Normal lets out another giggle, and this time, Hermie can feel it from his chest pressed against their body. He’s so close to them now. Solid. Steady. Warm warm warm–

“Let me down this instant,” the prince demands, feeling suffocated and alarmed as he feels comfortable and safe.

Normal looks down at him (he’s looking down at him for once) with a bright smile. There’s that unbearable stage light. “Of course, your majesty,” he teases in an uncharacteristically smooth voice, and gracefully sets him back down to earth.

As soon as Hermie’s feet land on the floor and Normal’s hands are no longer there for support, they feel their balance falter for the umpteenth time. They try to step away to place some distance between them, but their knees buckle under their own light weight.

But of course, Normal is quick to catch them. An order to unhand him readies itself on Hermie’s tongue, but when the hands draw away just as quickly as they came, he feels the need to lean back into him.

This can't be. He can't be swooning, he’s supposed to be the prince. He’s not supposed to look at Normal, with his dashing smile and very, very capable arms, and feel charmed.

“Once more,” he orders instead. His face feels about as flushed as Normal’s clearly is, and that’s probably becoming more and more evident by the second with how much makeup he’s sweating off, but the show must go on. “With feeling this time.”

Once more, the mascot kid effortlessly sweeps the prince off his feet. Hermie now allows himself to relish in the warmth of his touch, memorizing the way his arms curl around him protectively. To keep in mind for later. To help with his romantic fantasies. As in, to apply when playing as the prince in the play.

Normal then presses the lightest touch of his smiling lips to Hermie’s cheek.

…Hermie may be reconsidering her role now.

[likeadaydreamorafever]

Mischa Barton: ‘The trauma doesn’t just go away overnight’

The OC made her one of the most famous stars of the Noughties. Now 37, and with a new role in Neighbours, she’s back — and this time it’s on her own terms.

There was a time, not so long ago — the Noughties — when we hunted young women until they went mad. A pack of men with cameras followed them, stalked them, waited outside their homes to take their photograph, so that people could devour their lives and their changing teenage bodies, and watch their rising panic as they cracked under the pressure we were putting them under.

“It was all very Hunger Games,” says Mischa Barton, 37, sitting in a hotel room in central London, hair blow-dried, coffee poured, legs crossed. The British-American actress was 17 when she was cast in the teenage TV drama The OC, catapulting her to worldwide fame and making her Karl Lagerfeld’s “face of a generation” — an It girl in an era of size-zero bodies, up-skirt shots and gossip blogs.

Barton was — reluctantly — a paparazzi favourite. She was beautiful, cool and sceney, with a trail of rock star boyfriends and wild child friends. She suffered as a consequence of rather than in spite of the fame. She was arrested for drink driving, spent time in rehab and was detained in a psychiatric hospital. In 2017 a video of her, incoherent, rambling and distressed, was sold to the gossip site TMZ, peddled as proof of her going off the rails. Her drink had actually been spiked with a date rape drug. That same year an ex-boyfriend tried to sell a video — filmed without her knowledge — of her having sex and being naked in her own home.

“You can go to therapy every day for the rest of your life,” she says, “but there’s just a certain amount of trauma [from] all that I went through, particularly in my early twenties, that just doesn’t go away overnight.”

Today her life is a little quieter — the paparazzi don’t yet know where her new home is in Los Angeles (though the sound of cameras can trigger a panic attack, part of her enduring post-traumatic stress disorder). The OC is coming up to its 20th anniversary, with a new generation of Gen Z fans going wild for the Y2K vibe. She has had a stint on Dancing with the Stars and the reality TV show The Hills: New Beginnings, as well as parts in horror films, indie films and now the resurrected teatime soap Neighbours.

Barton was, and still is, a valuable commodity. “They first wanted me to do an arc on Neighbours when I was in my twenties,” she says, dressed smartly in a blazer, A-line dress and preppy jacquard pumps. I’ve just finished watching the new season, I tell her. “Oh wow,” she says in her mid-Atlantic drawl, “have you actually been watching it?” Sure, I continue, it was nostalgic. “Oh wow,” she says again, flatly. “Yeah. I haven’t seen any of it.” Barton still has the cool-girl energy that drew so many people in: arch, a little judgmental, but fun. She is the popular girl at the party.

The “final” episode of Neighbours was broadcast on Channel 5 last July, after 37 years and 8,903 episodes featuring alumni including Kylie Minogue, Jason Donovan and Margot Robbie. A group of heartbroken fans campaigned for its return and four months later Amazon Prime signed a deal with the production company. The reboot features old favourites Susan, Carl and Harold, as well Barton’s new character, Reece Sinclair, the expensively dressed American hotel proprietor who is having an affair with the bellboy.

Barton spent two months filming in Melbourne, cramming lines for 5am call times. “They work crazy hard [on soaps],” she says. “Really, it was gruelling. You’re lucky to get a second take.” She did, however, rewrite some of her script. “They don’t let everybody change their lines” — she lowers her voice — “trust me. The other kids were like, oh, can I do that? And [the writers] were like, no.” She cackles. “Say your lines as scripted!”

The actress will always be known for The OC, in which she played Marissa Cooper, a rich, blonde Californian who was troubled and glamorous — and who every teenage girl was desperate to be. The first series, which aired in 2003, pulled in an average of 9.7 million viewers per episode in America and was a hit on Channel 4, and she won two Teen Choice awards.

“I don’t think I was fully prepared for that level of fame,” she says. “Because it has never been something that I have sought out. I really would much rather be anonymous.”

Still a teenager, Barton was lauded for her looks and treated, she says, as much older than her years. “You do look back and you were 18 dating 34-year-olds,” she continues. “With hindsight you’re like, yeah, that was weird.” An interview with Harpers & Queen has recently resurfaced in which Barton, 19 at the time, says she was told by her publicist to sleep with Leonardo DiCaprio, who was 30, “for the sake of your career”.

She left The OC after three series — she says she was bullied on set and exhausted by 18-hour days for each 24-episode series — asking the writers to kill off Marissa as brutally as they could. She died lying in the road, dripping in fake blood, her crashed car up in flames.

In the following years Barton became a familiar face on the LA nightlife scene, all smoky eyeliner and faded band T-shirts, photographed with Nicole Richie, Lindsay Lohan and Amy Winehouse, while dating the Kooks’ frontman Luke Pritchard, the American rocker Cisco Adler and the Roughs’ guitarist Taylor Locke. “I definitely got to tour with some cool bands,” she says, still a little thrilled by the whole thing. “I mean, I was obsessed. But I don’t know if I could date a guy in a band any more. It just sounds exhausting and dirty.” The paparazzi attention was certainly not “healthy” for romantic relationships. “Everything is just so heightened,” she says. “You depend on the person so much more, you think you’re that much more in love because they’re your grip on some sort of normalcy.”

In the gossip blogs she was considered fair game. She was criticised for losing a stone in a year, then criticised for being “bloated Barton”, with the celebrity blogger Perez Hilton often the leader of the pack. “Nothing I did was good enough,” she says today. “It was the peak of cruelty about young women’s bodies. It was wild.”

Could she leave the house without being followed by photographers? “No,” she says immediately. “I couldn’t. [The paparazzi] were doing all kinds of crazy stuff to me.” She says they tracked her car, tried to climb over the walls of her house, paid off restaurants and bought mobile phones for homeless people so they could tip them off. “I was stalked,” she says. “I did go a little bit nuts at [one] point. I just felt really helpless.”

Then there was an arrest (2007, driving under the influence, without a valid licence and possessing cannabis), rehab (court ordered) and psychiatric hospital. She said she was “depressed and overworked”, and then, she claims, pumped full of prescription drugs by her “team” to keep her working. People have got kinder about mental health, though, she says. “That’s one of the better things about society these days — people are more willing to talk about having had depression or anxiety, or it’s not so taboo.”

But it was her legal battle against her ex-boyfriend that was “one of the worst and most gruelling experiences of my life”, she says. In 2017 Jon Zacharias tried to auction off illicit videos of her to the internet’s highest bidder.

After a years-long legal battle she won the case to prevent him from doing so. “It’s shocking to realise that there is that type of darkness in the world,” she says. “And you wonder what you’ve done to attract it.”

Mischa Anne Barton was born in Hammersmith in west London, the middle of three girls, her mother a producer and photographer, her father a foreign exchange broker. She went to St Paul’s Girls’ Preparatory School before the family moved to New York when Barton was six.

She was a bookish, shy child who found respite in acting. She had her first modelling job at eight and her first professional stage role the same year. By 11 she was in Italian Vogue. By 13 she was the lead in the movie Lawn Dogs, which had dark undertones of child molestation, followed by Pups, a crime drama. “Even from a young age I was sexualised,” she wrote in Harper’s Bazaar in 2021.

After her big break in The OC she starred as the “hot girl” in various music videos (Noel Gallagher, James Blunt, Enrique Iglesias) and became the face of Chanel, Calvin Klein, Monsoon Accessorise, Neutrogena, Herbal Essences and Keds.

“I was definitely told ‘sign here’ many, many times over,” she says. “I’ve gotten a lot better with legalese. Now I will read a contract front to back.”

Do people think she made more money than she has? “Oh, I know they do.” Today you can watch The OC on Amazon Prime, Hulu and ITV. “But I say to my friends, ‘Oh cool, I just got a direct deposit for $1.50.’ And they’re like, ‘What’s that?’ And I’m like, ‘Residuals.’ ”

She pushed herself into indie films and cerebral plays, which she loved, and then appeared on the rebooted reality show The Hills, which “wasn’t for me”, she says. “It’s the fame-chasing and the posing stuff that I don’t like. I found them to be very alieny.” She says the producers tried to make out that the original cast of The Hills had hung out with the cast of The OC in the Noughties, “but that was not the case. I never saw them around. I mean, it was a completely different world, a different type of celebrity.” She looks up from pouring herself another coffee. “You know what I mean.”

Today Barton lives between New York and LA. She is steady and grown-up, but still with a streak of flightiness. Her spontaneity “is a problem”, she says. She travelled around Indonesia alone over the summer, then France, then the UK, where she has been staying with her older sister, a barrister, in Kensington.

“I’m happy being single at the moment,” she says. “Because it comes up, the whole thing of ‘Do you wanna settle down and have kids?’ I am a weirdly traditional, conventional person when it comes to stuff like that, more so than people think. But it really depends on the person you’re with.”

In the past few years there has certainly been a collective reckoning regarding our behaviour towards young, famous women of that era. But does that regret mean anything to the women who suffered through it?

Recently the FBI knocked on Barton’s door, saying they were “working on a case” and wanted to play her a series of tapes. She listened to her conversations with people from years ago, which were recorded covertly. “Who knows who was doing it?” she says. “But I was almost grateful to know that they [the FBI] were going to such lengths, otherwise you feel crazy and paranoid.”

She has also had direct apologies. In 2019 Perez Hilton told her, on The Hills: “If I could go back in time and do things differently, I would.” Barton was largely unmoved. “This bullying you did for so long to so many young girls, I find it hard to let go,” she replied. “I can’t really accept the apology entirely.”

I bring up Hilton today and she rolls her eyes. “I don’t listen to anything he says because he’s so crazy,” she says. “You can see how sorry people feel for what they did to people like Britney [Spears] then. Everyone now is like, ‘I can’t believe we did that to those poor women.’” She pauses. “People feel so entitled to you and your body and your image. It’s a strange feeling. It’s strange.”

Video included in the article:

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Catty Kitty || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen Warnings: cat fight, though not graphically described. Wordcount: 1526

Summary: two shorter stories about one of the cats around the mansion; Autumn. I love writing for Autumn, haughty little queen she is. ------------------

"Oh no."

Remy looked up from his cards at the sound of Miranda's voice, looking over to where she was looking at. They were hanging out outside, taking a breather in between the busy schedules they both had at the mansion. Miranda had her eyes firmly on a calico cat who decisively wasn't a part of the group of cats that lingered around the mansion, as this new one deliberately and rather arrogantly approached her favorite of their group. Noctis was already backing up from this calico, clearly not looking for trouble as he lowered himself to the ground.

"What?"

"That's one of the bullies from some rival gang of cats- and she loves to bully Noctis because the sweet soul does little to nothing back to her," Miranda said with a sigh, "I'll go over there and chase her off. I know I'm not supposed to intervene but I can't stand around watching him get beaten up over nothing again."

Gambit got up as well, about to make the argument that she was indeed better off not intervening even if it was hard to watch, but before he could even open his mouth to speak something reddish brown shot between Miranda's legs like a bullet from a gun, tripping her up in the process. Gambit had to stop himself from speaking just to react fast enough to grab a hold of his friend, pulling her back to adjust her balance.

".. Great catch"

"You're welcome, what was-"

The answer came in the form of a cat yowl that sounded much like a battle cry, as the calico cat was irrevocably and inevitably tackled by the ruddy brown lightning bolt that had shot its way over the premises. What followed was the cacophony of a bonafide, actual catfight; loud enough that it made Noctis back off a little further in sheer confusion. The ruckus the two made in their fight even drew the attention of the rest of the mansion's clowder; several of the cats coming over to see what the argument was about mostly lead by Romeo, the other reddish brown cat who wandered around the premises of the mansion

In light of being surrounded by a whole group, the calico decided the best course of action was to stop fighting from her end and just make a run for it instead, quickly followed by the cat that had tackled her in the first place. Only when the other cat had vanished from the premises did the feline that had beat her up finally stand still, hissing and growling after the calico as her green eyes blazed with pure, unadulterated rage.

Autumn was still growling and hissing up a storm when Noctis hopped back on his paws and quickly made his way over to his friend, sniffing at her and making soft noises of concern- and it was like his attention made a switch flip in Autumn's behavior. Her anger dissipated in a moment's notice, her whole body language settling down as Noctis carefully started to groom her. The two mutants had just stared at the whole scene as it played out; the fight over just as quickly as it begun. Miranda was slack jawed, while Gambit just gave an impressed whistle.

".... Wow," Miranda managed to bring out, eyes still focused on Autumn, "is that really the same cat who tried to hide away in Kurt's shirt during the last thunder storm?"

"She can't fight the thundering sky; but beating up some cat bothering Noctis? That she can do, clearly," Gambit laughed, giving Miranda the lightest shove of his elbow to get her attention when she looked away from the cats for a moment, "look."

Where the two felines still sat, Autumn looked at Noctis while her eyes slowly blinked shut and before long she curled up against him, lightly nuzzling along his neck as she did. Noctis just rested his chin on her head ever so gently, while the other cats dispersed and went back to what they were doing before.

"Seems like you're not the only one who likes Noctis the most of the cats 'round here, fifolet," Gambit laughed, to which Miranda just rolled her eyes in amusement.

-

Ugh.

It was always amusing to see such a clear expression on an animal's face. With utter disdain Autumn looked over to where two mutants sat in the garden, having a conversation about something or another. That wasn't what she was feeling some kind of way about; oh no. It was that the cat she liked most, the one she would actually get in fights for to defend, the one who was so very comfortable to curl up against and be gently groomed by constantly had to be in her lap.

With sheer disgust Autumn looked at the lady mutant, wrinkling her little nose in dismay. Why her, of all the options the mansion provided? She reeked of salt and ugh, water. How could he be so comfortable when she was touching him with those revoltingly sea water smelling paws?

The reddish cat would roll her green eyes if she could; instead she just looked away and let out a huff. She wasn't jealous of the attention Noctis was receiving, absolutely not. Nor did she actually care that the black tomcat wasn't paying attention to her, like he should. The audacity to treat her like any less than the true queen she was, honestly.

Still, the feline's green eyes flicked back at the scene, watching as Noctis comfortably sat in the mutants lap being petted. Okay, maybe that did look somewhat nice; if anything it would be the attention she rightfully deserved to have bestowed upon her. But she definitely didn't want it from the watery lady. The same green eyes flicked over to the lady's blue companion instead, as Autumn thought of her next move.

The blue one smelled far better anyway, and the few times she had let him pet her she had to concede he did an.. adequate job of it. But she wasn't going to strut over there like Noctis did and beg for a spot in his lap. Queens didn't beg for the attention they deserve.

Sneaking over instead, low to the ground, Autumn made sure the two mutants were in deep conversation so neither noticed her crawl over. At least the watery lady was useful for keeping her blue companion distracted while Autumn as lightly and sneakily as possible crept her way into his lap and curled up there; perfectly satisfied with a job well done.

Kurt just looked down when there was a sudden weight in his lap that wasn't there before, blinking in surprised confusion at the feline that had seemingly summoned herself from the voids and planes beyond into his lap.

"Uhm... Autumn? Are you feeling alright, ma'am? You've never done this before, you know, aside from the time the thunder was scaring you to wit’s end."

He hesitated for just a moment before slowly reaching a hand out for her to sniff, trying to gauge just exactly where the cat's boundary was today. Maybe she just wanted to be in his lap, and petting would be considered a great offense that would make her leave or swat at him. Instead, Autumn sniffed at him in a rather dainty fashion, looking up at him with her big green eyes. While keeping her gaze locked on him, she gave his hand a very deliberate nudge.

Kurt slowly started to pet her over her soft fur, keeping his touch gentle and light before she decided this wasn't okay either. The cat's eyes widened just a little, before she quietly leaned into the petting.

"Careful there, it almost looks like you like my attention," Kurt joked softly, looking back up to Miranda who was watching the scene with big eyes full of wonder.

"She really hasn't done that with anyone. I just figured she wasn't a lap kind of cat," Miranda murmured, her own deep green eyes sparkling as Autumn was clearly comfortable.

"I guess helping her out during the last storm at least made me somewhat alright in her eyes," Kurt mused, keeping his petting light and gentle while occasionally scratching a particularly itchy spot behind Autumn's ear that the feline enthusiastically leaned into.

Both mutants blinked as a sudden noise came out of the ruddy colored feline; a noise very unbecoming of their haughty little friend. Between the two cats currently in their laps, it was always Noctis who made that sound but far louder; like an engine that refused to actually properly start up.

"She's purring," Kurt said; bewildered at the sound he had never heard out of Autumn before. Miranda's eyes sparkled brighter at this revelation that Autumn could even purr around them, watching as the feline's eyes slowly blinked close.

"She really likes you," she whispered. Kurt looked up and into Miranda's deep green eyes, his own slightly widening at the sheer level of warmth and love radiating out of hers. He couldn't help but look away as his cheeks tinted slightly purple.

"I... Y-Yeah, I guess she does.. Lucky me.."