#TYSM ))))): I HOPE UR PILLOWS ARE ALWAYS COLD AND YOUR SOCKS NEVER GET UNCOMFORTABLY WET AND ALL YOUR DAYS ARE AMAXUNG )):

[unriding]

ok i got really distracted but im back now

my writing feels a little rusty but we’re gonna ignore that. and the lack of editing. fuck it we ball

so like. moze is a very poorly socialized crow, right. but he trusts feixiao and jiaoqiu. you know what this makes perfect space for?

ultimate wingmen feixiao and jiaoqiu.

feixiao enjoys your company- she thinks you’re a very excited and endearing little thing. this isn’t your first meeting of course; you’ve met a few times before, just enough for jiaoqiu to notice the way mozes eyes linger on you. so feixiao is chatting with you, asking for details about what you like, telling you stories about being the general on the yaoqing, while moze and jiaoqiu observe from a short distance.

“i still don’t understand why you insist on staying here with me,” says moze in his usual flat tone.

jiaoqiu knows what he means, but chooses to tease him anyway, “what, i can’t keep my dear friend company?”

“aren’t you friends with her too?”

jiaoqiu smiles, “evie? yes, i think she’s friends with everyone she meets. she’s so sweet, i think she could even break through that icy exterior of yours,” the foxian tries to knock on the shadow guards chest for emphasis, but is firmly blocked by his hand.

“i disagree.”

jiaoqiu lets the comment slide as they continue to watch you and the general chat. he knows better, after all. moze typically needs time and exposure to acclimate to new people, but jiaoqiu is a very good doctor. though he’s no psychologist, he knows sometimes all a patient needs is a good push.

“you know, i think she had to be a foxian in her last life.”

moze raises an eyebrow at his friend.

“just look at her! if she had a tail, it’d be wagging nonstop.”

moze says nothing, but jiaoqiu has known moze long enough to know when he’s thinking hard about something.

and thinking hard moze is.

the next time you come up to the general or jiaoqiu to chat, mozes eyes are glued to you, picturing a dark, fluffy tail swishing back and forth with excitement. it’d make the ruffles in your skirts flutter too, he thinks. it could maybe even make the fabric ride up a little in the back-

he finds these thoughts haunting him constantly.

to be beside you and feel soft fur brush against his legs. to be behind you and catch peeks of your upper thighs- he wonders if you wear safety shorts. he wonders if you don’t.

such reprehensible behavior. you would be disgusted if you could read his mind. he can’t get himself to stop- maybe he doesn’t want to. he expects he’ll have to take these fantasies to his grave regardless.

what he doesn’t expect is more. more conversations, more texts, more time, more evie. and he finds himself with so much more evie that these fantasies to become more, too.

if you had a tail, what would make it wag the most? what would make it thump against him with indignation? what would make it puff up in surprise? if he touched you like this, would it thrash around behind you, out of control? how sensitive would it be compared to the rest of you? if he bent you over, would you let him use it to manhandle you on and off his cock while he fucks you relentlessly? would you wrap it around his wrist and cry for him to slow down, to beg him for mercy? would it tighten around him when he denies you, forcing you into orgasm after orgasm, because he knows just how his sweet girl likes it? how would you react if he-

“hello? evie to moze? anyone in there?”

moze is startled out of his thoughts as he feels you tug gently on his sleeve.

“are you okay? i’ve never seen you space out like that before,” you raise a hand slowly to gently feel against his forehead as if checking for a fever.

no. no, he is not okay. it took everything in him not to flinch at your touch because the contact made him realize how excruciatingly hard he is under the table the two of you are sat at. aeons, if the two of you were more secluded he’s not sure he’d be able to keep himself from pushing you halfway up the table and flipping your skirt up to-

“moze? your face is all red and you spaced out again. are you coming down with something? should i call jiaoqiu-?”

“no,” moze swallows thickly, “no, you don’t need to call jiaoqiu. i’m afraid i must take me leave now. i apologize for my abruptness.”

“it’s ok-” but moze is already gone, disappearing into a puff of shadow and crow feathers that flutter into nothingness once they hit the ground, “-oh.”

“did our dear crow fly off from you?” jiaoqiu appears out of nowhere, two boba drinks in hand. his smile cools the flare of disappointment at moze’s sudden retreat.

“uh- yeah, he did. he didn’t look great. i was just about to text you, actually,” you almost cringe at the way the feelings creep into your voice.

“well, i was on my way to bring the general a midday treat, but i suppose this justifies a sudden change in plans.”

“oh, i wouldn’t want to-”

“too late!” jiaoqiu is already seated, placing one drink- conveniently your current favorite- in front of you and shooting off a text to the general, “now, why don’t you tell me how your days been? i can probably think of some embarrassing stories about moze to get him back for leaving so suddenly.”

in his pocket, jiaoqiu’s phone buzzes.

feixiao: this has to be some form of mental harassment…i can’t believe you paid some random girl to walk in his line of sight and swish her tail to see what would happen! incredible work, jiaoqiu. i’ll start brainstorming our next move.

moze: i think i’m dying.