#also figured out some new brushes which was nice

[endursent]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alhaitham;

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

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

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

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

 Where’s your damn attention?

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

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

  No kisses?? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arataki Itto;

You just wanted a nice, cool nap. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baizhu;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cyno;

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

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

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

  You blink twice.

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

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

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

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

  “This is… quite the cat-astrophe—”

  Oh no. 

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

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

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

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

  They get a bit tired.

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

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

 Dainsleif;

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

  “... meow?” 

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

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

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

  Nothing. No glow, no poofing. 

  There goes his only idea. 

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

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

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

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

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

  “Meow.”

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

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

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

  You move closer yet, your tail touches his coat. 

  Dainsleif sighs. 

  You stop. 

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

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

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

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

Diluc;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  A smile tugs on his lips at the cute expression. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kaedehara Kazhua; 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kaeya;

Funniest shit he’s seen all year. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You pounced onto it.

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

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

Kamisato Ayato;

He doesn’t leave you alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kaveh;

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

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

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

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

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

  “Meow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neuvillette;

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

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

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

  And now you’re a cat. 

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

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

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

  You look like a big snowball. 

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

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

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

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

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

Tartaglia;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thoma;

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

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

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

  You’re actually a cat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Venti;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanderer;

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

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

  Why did you have to turn into a hairless cat? 

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

  Wanderer isn’t exactly happy to have to take care of you—he will do it, of course, but he will also complain about it. You were perfectly independent and functional as a person before you just had to go and sniff some plant in the wild that poofed you into a cat before his very eyes. 

  He refuses to seek help to find out how to turn you back, not because he doesn’t want anyone to know that you’re a cat, but rather because he’s certain he can handle it himself. 

  You whack at his arm with your paw, meowing up a storm after a few hours of not being fed the day after—he had completely forgotten that he needs to prepare something digestible for you… he’s never had to take care of a creature like you before—what can you even eat?? He clicks his tongue. “Don’t swat at me like that. You’re human, act like it…”

  You’re not human right now!! Give me food!!

  Eventually, he does begin to take proper care of you, even though he keeps telling you that you look like a peeled potato… you don’t have many ways of retaliation except whacking him with your paw or hissing when he lightly pinches a big patch of your skin. 

  Surprisingly, during one strangely cold night when you were curled on the bed and trying to stay warm—even the slightest drop in temperature was very cold to your hairless body… you feel something soft drape over you.     Half-asleep and cold, you squint up and scrunch your nose as your whiskers squish against the blanket, you see Wanderer turn back around after setting it over you. Hah… he’s soft under that hard shell as always, even if he tries to act aloof. 

  After several days of no luck in trying to turn you back, Wanderer does begin to cave to asking for some… advice. Not help. Advice.

  With you in his arms, head reaching towards the market stalls of Sumeru city (literally everything smells good and extremely edible) as he passes by, Wanderer takes you to meet with Nahida who is rather enthusiastic about this mystery. She pets you and smiles, humming as he recounts what happened and describes the particular flower you smelled. 

  “Hm, I have an idea, but it’ll take a while to execute… do you think it’ll be okay for them to remain like this for a few more days?” the archon taps her chin in thought, mind swirling with ideas and possible solutions. 

  Wanderer huffs, not exactly a scoff, and clapped his hand onto your head. “It’s fine.”

  But as soon as you returned back home and he set you down on the living room table, Wanderer points at you. “You better turn back to normal soon…” he folds his arms over his chest, his expression isn’t as tight as it was before. “I don’t want to deal with this forever. Just get back soon.”

  You inch closer to him on the table, reaching your paw out to tug his sleeve closer—only to rub your head into his palm. He clicks his tongue. “Whatever… don’t think this counts as an apology. You’ll have to make up for it properly when you’re you again.”

Wriothesley;

You are, quite possibly, the smallest cat he has ever seen. 

  He holds you in the palm of his hand, it’s adorable. Wriothesley cracks a grin and lifts you to eye-level. “Hm, you’re not nearly as scary like this, no one in this prison will listen to you like this.”

  You want to whack him on his nose, but politely refrain—if only because you don’t want to get dropped. You meow at him, ferocious and upset at this situation, you have a job to tend to! Things to do!

  But Wriothesley has other ideas, he sets you down on his desk and sits down. “Now, how did this happen? I assume this wasn’t intentional?” is he teasing you? Most likely. He knows you can’t just answer his questions, and you assumed he would be slightly more concerned when a guard brought you to his office…

  But no, he instantly recognised you and dismissed the guard. Had it been the eyes? The fur? Is he somehow responsible for this??

  All unanswered questions, and though he sends out word to some people he thinks might be able to help decipher this mystery, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get you back to normal. He sets you in the pocket of his vest (it’s embarrassing that you actually fit) and goes on with his days as normal. 

  Siegwinne was initially very concerned, she seemed much more sensible in her worries that leaving you in this form for too long might be dangerous and that the Fortress isn’t exactly a good place for pets. There are a lot of crevices to get stuck in and things to get hurt on.

  Though you still retain your mind, so you should be alright in that sense… so long as you don’t get overly curious. 

  He is undeniably very warm, and cuddling up to him at night is very comfortable—especially now that you can just lay on his chest and snooze there and not worry about being dragged back into his embrace if you move too much in your sleep. You barely move at all in this form.

  Come morning, Wriothesley was already awake by the time you open your eyes, he strokes your fur and scratches behind your ears. Having a day pass by does make the initially amusing situation a bit more… real. He doesn’t want you to be struck with a permanent curse, or some kind of spell that might harm you in the long run. 

  “Don’t you worry,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. “I’ll make sure you’re back to normal soon, just stick close by.”

  And you do, mostly because you couldn’t have been blessed (cursed?) with a normal-sized cat body, but possibly the smallest there could be. You can’t even jump up onto his desk by yourself and have to yowl at him to let you up. 

  He does so happily, surprisingly eager to carry you around and help you with the smallest things. 

  Wriothesley doesn’t even change in mood from amusement when you chase the pen in his hands as it glides across paperwork he signs, you leap onto his arm and try to whack at the pet in either some strange instinctual haze, or an attempt to play—and though you whacking the pen makes it seem like he has the handwriting of a toddler, it’s just rather funny.

  The Fortress doesn’t exactly have a large variety of foods, not in the sense that it can be adjusted for the diet of a cat that isn’t accounted for during inventory fills, and thus Wriothesley sends for specific ingredients that won’t be heavy on your tiny little stomach. 

  And he also… got some cat-related things delivered, like a bed, some string toys and treats. You never used the bed, either preferring his lap to nap on, or just slept in the strangest places he never even imagined you could reach with those stubby legs. 

  But he’s a very responsible caretaker, at least, that’s what he claims as he holds you down to brush your teeth and you wriggle and flail like an eel. 

Xiao; 

Very worried, he didn’t even realise the cat sitting in the clearing of the forest was you at first and searched for you for several minutes before seeming to realise that you had just… shrunk. Into a cat. 

  He stares at you for a good minute, lips parted and eyes large… before your name tentatively leaves his mouth.

  You meow in affirmation, standing and shaking yourself as you try to understand the situation yourself—still a bit disoriented. 

  Xiao approaches you quickly and kneels down in front of you, he lifts you up to your hind legs, puts you down and inspects your ears, your tail and under your paws. You meow in curiosity as to what he is doing, and surprisingly he seems to understand your question. 

  “There might be traces of whatever did this on your body, it will make it easier to track or reverse,” he says and even checks inside your mouth, which you weren’t really happy with. 

  Unfortunately, he doesn’t find any answers, and kneels there rather awkwardly with you in front of him… what now? This situation has stumped him a bit—he’s supposed to be able to keep you safe from all manners of danger and curses like this (perhaps not exactly like this, he never prepared for this exact scenario) and now that he’s not got many leads to fix it, his mind is a bit aimless in where to search for information. 

  He has no idea how to care for you, and while he has vague ideas of the behaviours of animals…they mostly stem from wild animals and their reactions to foreign presences in their territories, or similar scenarios. 

  What does a meow mean? Is there something wrong? What does it mean when you paw at the door? Do you want to go outside? But it’s two in the morning?

  He severely overestimates the portions of food you eat, giving you a full plate of something the Wangshu Inn kitchens prepared on his request (they figured out what happened and have been trying to help him, but Xiao is still trying to be subtle and secretive about the situation) and being confused when you only ate a fourth of it. 

  Are you sick? Was it the wrong kind of food?

  He brings you along with him on his hunts, while he could leave you at the inn… how can he be sure that you won’t get into trouble? The window is high above the ground, what if you tumble out of it? What if you try to climb up on the dresser in the room and get stuck? Or fall down and hurt yourself?

  No, you’re safest with him, even if he has to wield his spear with one hand and hold you with the other. 

  He’s surprisingly good at it too. 

  Desperate after a week of unsuccessful herbs and potions he tried to make, Xiao caves and contacts Liyue Harbour and the adepti that reside there for help.

  It seems his message had gotten into Cloud Retainer’s hands, and instead of any actually helpful advice on how to turn you back… she had sent an entire booklet of cat behaviours, diets and how to take care of them.

  Helpful, sure… but not exactly what he was asking for. 

  One evening as he was out on the usual hunts, he noticed that you were walking slowly by his side, yawning and rather cold so high in the mountains. He didn’t even have to think about what might be wrong or what to do, as he had already scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the inn, where he sat down with you on the bed. 

  “You should tell me when you’re tired…” he grumbles and tugs one of the covers on the bed to his lap where he wraps it around you as if bundling a baby up. Xiao reaches up and scratches behind your ears as your eyes blink closed in the comfort of being back in the warm room.

  He had only been petting you for s few seconds when he felt you… tremble? There was a strange rumbling sound coming from you, are you uncomfortable? He doesn’t quite understand it… but you continue to rumble as he scratches your head and ears. 

  Ah, was this the ‘purring’ he read about in one of the booklets Ganyu sent him? How… cute.

Zhongli;

“Ah…” Zhongli stares at you, this isn’t quite what he had imagined would happen… he had been crafting a potion in hopes it would help Ganyu sleep better, she had been overworking herself (again) more than usual and was so tired that she couldn’t sleep. It can happen. 

  The combination of herbs and materials required for the potion he had put together wasn’t very suitable for humans, and of course he made sure to let you know so that you wouldn’t drink it… but he hadn’t expected that only being touched by a single drop onto the back of your hand would lead to a poof, and your size being reduced and body turned to that of a cat. 

  You had only wanted to help by handing him ingredients so that he didn’t have to turn around so often… you didn’t anticipate this either!

  He makes sure the potion won’t burn and sets a lid on the pot before turning towards you. “I… had not foreseen that this could have been a danger to you, my apologies,” he kneels down on one knee and holds his hand out for you to sniff. You do so, snout twitching towards his finger before you bump your head into his palm. 

  “Have you retained some sense of consciousness?” he wonders, gloved hand moving to stroke over your small head, your ears flattening under his palm. “I’m sure I can find a way to reverse this.”

  He was sure, at least. But after some research and testing… he wasn’t making any progress—at least, he wasn’t making progress in finding ways to turn you to your normal self without some potential risks or aftereffects. 

  What he did find, was that the herb that you had been touching, and the potion he had halfway crafted was similar to another concoction that he had made before—and the effects of that had only been temporary. 

  It seems you will simply have to wait until the effect wears off. 

  Zhongli had instinctively prepared a delightful meal in the way he knows you would enjoy while you sit in the kitchen counter and watch with interest, your tail swaying happily as you watch him chop some vegetables and set them into the pot… but halfway through the process as he’s setting spices and herbs into the pot, Zhongli realises that more than half of the ingredients in the pot are unsuitable for cats to eat. 

  He finishes the meal and sets it aside, before fetching some fish you had purchased just yesterday that he was going to use for lunch tomorrow and cut it into nicely bite-sized pieces. You tilt your head slightly as you watch—the meal he had just been putting together doesn’t have any fish in it?? What’s it for?

  And honestly, when he plated your food (in a very professional and presentable way) and set it down on the dining table, then set his own on the other side for himself… you felt a bit offended. Raw fish, some rice and a hard boiled egg… next to his delicious smelling beef stew… 

  If you could’ve cried, you would have. And Zhongli felt pretty bad for the rest of the day, he tried to offer you some “safe” treats or make it up to you with some pets and scritches, but you still sulked.

  You had looked forward to this dinner all day…

  Thankfully you got over it rather quickly and Zhongli is glad that he didn’t offend you too badly… it seems having been turned into a cat had made you quite dramatic as well, he doesn’t recall you ever having sulked like this over a meal before.

  Knowing that it was simply a waiting game, Zhongli isn’t very concerned about your state, but he does ensure that you’re comfortable and not afraid—he understands that perceiving the world differently like this can be strange and even scary, but he’s glad when it seems that you’re relatively calm. 

  Your nightly routines are slightly out of whack now—something that Zhongli isn’t very fond of, he quite likes it that after cleaning up after dinner, the two of you settle in the living room for a while. He tends to read and it varies what you get up to, but it’s always a shared time where you sit in silence or chat about your days.

  He does talk about his day to you, sitting on the comfortable seat in the living room with you on his lap, Zhongli recounts his day to you and expresses that he hopes you weren’t too bored alone in the home today, and that perhaps he can convince the director to allow him to bring you for a day. He strokes your back and smiles as a rumbling purr leaves you, he scratches under your chin and touches his forehead to yours as you seem to have fallen asleep on his lap. He reaches for his book and decides to read for a while before taking you to bed. 

  Despite the mishap, he’s glad you’re safe—he will endeavour to be more careful in the future and ensure you won’t be hurt or disturbed by his work. 

[flkwh0re]

Try it, Bite it, Lick it, Spit it

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Strap-on usage (R receiving), Brief fingering, Degradation, Praise, Use of the word slut, Mirror sex, Hair pulling/gripping, Sex in a public bathroom (gross Natasha 😕), Overstimulation (R receiving), Oral (R receiving)

Word Count: 1.1k

Authors Note: Didn’t really have much going to this fic, I just wanted to make a fic with this title. (Stream Guess by Charli xcx and Billie Eilish 😚)

The loud music that blared through club felt like it shook your core. It was so loud you couldn't even hear your own thoughts, which was a total lie. You just couldn't think because of the gorgeous red head that had showed up with Yelena.

Yelena was your best friend, along side her girlfriend Kate Bishop. You'd known Yelena since your first day of college, she was your roommate at the time. You did everything with her and basically knew everyone she did, but not this woman.

"Y/n, come here!" Yelena yelled to you, the thick Russian accent being the only reason you were able to hear her. "I want you to meet my sister, Natasha. Natasha this is Y/n." You weren't sure how you should greet such a beautiful woman, so you stupidly stuck your hand out for a handshake.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/n." The woman said with very captivating grin on her lips. "Like wise, Natasha." The use of her full name caused her to cringe a little, "Just Nat." You awkwardly smile and nod.

The night moved very slowly, mostly due to your soberness, but also the countless men that would hit on Natasha ruining your small talk. "Let me buy you a drink, help you enjoy yourself a little." Natasha suggested. "I've gotta be able to get home, last time I trusted Yelena getting me home we spent half the night on the streets trying to figure out the gps." A grin creeped on Natasha's face at your jab directed at her sister.

"I can get you home sweetheart, it's no big deal." You were saved by the dim lights of the corner you and Natasha were in, you were sure your face was scarlet red. "Fine." Following your agreement, drink after drink kept coming, and now Natasha's and yours conversation flowed like you'd known each other for years.

"C'mon Nat, dance with me." You pleaded with the older woman, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket. Eventually you dragged her onto the floor, pushing through the swarm of bodies. Her front pressed flush against your back, as you swayed to the music. Her hands possessively held onto your hips, almost as if she were afraid you'd get away from her to go dance with some helpless drunk.

Your body felt like putty in Natasha arms, the arms that were moving up and down your body as her hands gripped and groped at your curves. Her hot breath fanned on the back of your neck, her soft lips occasionally brushing the sensitive skin. "Come with me."

Your hand linked with Natasha's as you two walked off to what you assumed was to the bathroom. You were never one for a hookup, especially in a club bathroom, but Nat made you want to and so you did. Your back collided with the door as soon as it shut, Natasha briefly fumbling with the lock before her lips hungrily connected with yours.

Her tongue laced with yours, as your lips molded together. Your mouths so connected that your moans didn't escape her mouth, but rather she swallowed them. "Fuck you're so hot, I wish Yelena brought you around." Natasha leaned back to admire your current state. Your hair pushed around, clothes slightly wrinkled, your gradually weakening legs as Natasha worked you up.

Her lips returned on yours, and her fingers found new ground on the clasp of your jeans. She tugged it apart and slipped her hand past the lacy material of your soaked panties. "Fuck pretty girl, you're so wet." She rasped, eliciting a pitiful whimper from you. "All for you." You could barely muster the words.

Natasha's rough fingers rubbed your clit just the right way, almost too good for you to bear. "F-fuck Nat! Feels s'good." You managed out the words that felt caged in your throat, and you could tell she knew you were struggling by the small laugh that came from her.

"You like that, hm? Wanna see how much you like this?" She took your hand rubbing it against her crotch, the feeling of silicone begging for release rubbed against your hand. You groaned loudly just from thinking about her fucking you with it. "I think you're wet enough, turn around." Natasha demanded, and you obeyed.

Natasha tugged down your jeans, along with her own. She slid the toy into you with ease and a little force, which caused your front to be flush against the sink. Natasha's hands roughly gripped your hips, yours holding onto whatever you could grab. "Fuck you're so tight, I wish I could feel you. I bet you feel so good." Her filthy words making you moan, so loud that she covered your mouth.

Her hips slapped against yours so rapidly it was almost painful, but the pleasure of the toy rubbing against your deepest parts made all that pain unrecognizable. "You're doing so good for me Y/n, being such a good girl."

Your hair was tugged and balled up into Natasha's hand in a matter of seconds, as she forced you to look in the mirror. "Watch yourself get fucked by me you slut, fucked by your best friends sister. By a woman you just met." The harsh, degrading and words that left her lips made you even more turned on.

"Nat, 'm close. 'M gonna cum, Please!" You begged. "Yea, gonna cum on my cock? Go on then, cum for me." And you did, Natasha made you see stars as she mercilessly fucked you through your orgasm.

Before you knew it she had you sitting on the counter, your jeans completely discarded somewhere. Her head between your thighs as she ate you out. You were too sensitive to take it, but to fucked out to use your words to beg her to stop. Your second orgasm nearing and all you could manage was a little whimper, "C'mon use your words, you got this baby. You're doing so good for me, you can do it." She praised.

"Please, I need- I can't take it!" Her pace quickened, it was so painful but you needed release so bad. "Nat, 'm cuming!"

"You did so good, let me help you clean up and I'll take you home okay?" You nodded, "But what about Yelena?" You asked as Natasha helped support your body, so you could redress. "I'll text her, don't worry your pretty little head." She said as a placed a little kiss on your forehead.

That night wasn't the end of you and Natasha. Eventually after a few hook ups she asked to take you on a date, which went so well it turned into multiple dates, then you were officially together.

MASTERLIST

[puckinghischier]

What do I have to do to get some filthy Nico thoughts this morning? Xoxo

not much, honestly

was thinking about how absolutely rabid he’d be after that canes game, all high on winning. but unfortunately for him, you’d be out of service for a few more days, mother nature having paid you a visit a couple of days ago. of course you’d help him out, giving him a nice, long, treat on your knees to reward him for the victory, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could have all of you.

he’d be such a little menace about it too. snaking his arms around you while you’re in front of the mirror, doing your hair, letting them rest dangerously low on your waist. little smacks to your ass anytime you pass by him. waking you up in the morning by rutting his morning semi against your ass.

and when the two of you are out in public? god, he’s almost worse than when you’re at home. drinks with the guys turned into you being trapped in the booth, nico’s hand resting high on your thigh, fingers brushing you over your underwear. you knew wearing this dress was risky, especially with how he’s been the last couple days, but you figured since you would be out with the guys he’d be on his best behavior. but of course you were wrong. his long pinky makes long, drawn out circles on your barely covered clit, working you up continuously just to casually slide his hand away. only to do it all over again every ten minutes.

then, when you came to visit him at the rink for lunch, he was dragging you into a random corner, kissing you like he was trying to take all of the oxygen from your body. his heavy frame pinning you against the smooth wall of whatever deserted hallway you were in. he knew you were close to being his again, having his own tracker app on his phone for your cycle. which also means he knew you were in the stage where you were becoming increasingly more desperate and horny as the hours ticked by.

“nico…not here. please. you know we can’t. just another day or so,” you’d pant out, so close to just letting him have his way with you anyways. his response would be a hand coming up to cup over your sex, digging the palm of his hand into your clothed clit. “just think of everything you could’ve had already. all the fun you’ve missed out on, caused me to miss out on” he whispers gruffly in your ear, biting the sensitive skin there. “don’t you think i finally deserve my reward for having such a good game the other night?”

you let out a harsh gasp, the sight of your open mouth and perfect tongue poking out combined with your wild eyes nearly enough to make him start ripping clothes off right here, not a care in the world if anyone would see the two of you or not. he brings a hand up to pinch your bottom lip between his fingers, pulling the skin out. he has the urge to do something he never has before, which is letting a dribble of spit drop directly from his mouth into the small pocket created by your outstretched bottom lip.

he watches your pupils dilate in surprise, releasing your skin so it snaps back into place. he looks down at your throat, watching you swallow the saliva he just transferred to you. he smirks, knowing by the look on your face, and clench of your thighs, he’s almost got you.

you hear footsteps approaching the two of you, straightening up and pushing nico away from you only slightly, not wanting to get caught in a compromising position in his workplace. an equipment manager rounds the corner, looking up when he notices the two of you and waves.

“hey cap! got that new stick in you were wanting! on my way to go pick it up now, actually. meet me out on the ice?” he waves in greeting, cheery attitude showing he’s excited about the delivery.

“sure thing! see you out there in a few!” nico responds just as enthusiastically, a stark contrast from his demeanor mere seconds ago. you both watch the man retreat down the hallway, having given you a small wave of goodbye, which you returned.

“okay well…i’ll…uh…see you at home, yeah?” you clear your throat, hardly able to concentrate on the words you’re speaking.

“mhmm. see you in a bit,” he places a kiss to your forehead, backing away from your still stunned figure. “oh! and stop by the kitchen on your way out. grab a water, you seem a little…thirsty,” he smirks at you as he walks backwards, teasing you for just how quick you were to accept and swallow his spittle moments ago.

that night when he returned home, he couldn’t find you anywhere. you weren’t in the living room on the couch, in the small kitchen, in the bedroom. when he called out your name you emerged from the shared walk in closet, clad in his favorite lingerie set of yours.

“good news, neeks,” is all you managed to get out before he was stomping towards you, backing you against the floor-to-ceiling shelving of the closet. a few shoes dropped off the shelf at the force of his actions, but that was the least of your worries right now. you could fix them in the morning, considering the two of you never managed to leave the space the whole night, waking up on the carpeted floor to his soft snores, one of his suit jackets draped over your naked body as a makeshift blanket.

[nsfwruru]

Can you do a perv g!p Sakura x innocent fem 6th member?? I honestly can’t describe anymore lol so yea 😭

Idol!Miyawaki Sakura (g!p) x Idol!reader

Sakura has gotta be the most perverted mf you’ve ever lived with, she’s stealing your shit, thinking about you, all the while she’s rubbing one out. She also literally can’t keep her hands to herself, and needs to be checked out for like brain damage or something.

cw: smut, porn with plot (pervy!sakura, dubcon?, creampies, riding, mentions of hentai, dom!kkura, cumplay, thigh fucking, eating out), not proofread, naive!reader, reader is part of lesserafim but generally only lives with sakura

Sakura Miyawaki, being generally the same age as her, you thought you’d both have a lot in common, I mean at face value you both did. You loved music, started your career at a young age, was more secluded from the rest of the functioning world than others, loved manga and anime alike, everything was so compatible between the two of you! It was almost a match made in heaven when it was time to choose the dormitory situations, and you both chose each other of course.

Naturally having moved in together, the first few weeks weren’t all that bad as you found yourself hanging out with her a lot more. Either that be cooking together after a long practice, sitting on her lap while she played overwatch, and even helping her out with the laundry and such. You thought all was going well until suddenly after all those affectionate moments and bonding times, she abruptly stopped hanging around you. Being more reclusive day by day, and being glued on her phone, or glued on her computer, completely ignoring your existence in the dormitory.

This was also around the same time some of your nick-nacks went missing, for example it was something small like maybe a hair tie you left on the counter, or even towels you left outside to dry after a shower. It wasn’t all that concerning cause you could always get another towel or hair tie, but you found it especially odd that even some of your clothes and undergarments went missing.

Whenever you asked your sweet darling roommate about it, she’d brush it off, saying something along the lines of. “Oh look at you being forgetful again!” Or “Maybe Yunjin or Zuha took em’ you know how they are.” Only for the missing items to return back to its rightful spot days later, as if nothing had ever happened.

But don’t fret, she was still that lovable older sister figure whenever you where on set, or whenever you did shots with the other girls, making sure the coddle you the most in front of other people. She would’ve even chew other people out whenever they tried coming close to you, almost as if she was a guard dog protecting her precious bone. Which made your emotions conflict even more whenever you’d arrive back home and try to be friendly, just for her the shoo you away and retreat back to her room to play games or whatever.

You genuinely thought she hated you all of the sudden behind closed doors, although little did you know that presumption was oh so wrong. She didn’t want you to know that whenever those bedroom doors lock, Sakura would pull out the latest new item she’d stolen from you and take a whiff of your scent off of it.

If it was something that was easily moveable, she would wrap it around her thick length, while reading one of those filthy mangas she loved so much, thinking it was you fucking yourself on her dick, instead of this uncomfortable towel fabric. She had no common decency, having no concern that she was cumming all over your stuff, while reading hentai, while thinking about you. Sakura literally didn’t even care if you heard you or not, even when you are at home, working on your journal or something, she’s groaning out your name.

Even then you were so concerned that you did something wrong, that you started going out and getting groceries to cook for her every night. Sometimes being so exhausted from practice you’d cook her a nice hot meal she’d love so much, and pass out on your bed. Sakura noticed all your efforts but instead of telling you that she was never mad in the first place, she’d continue the charade and let you do girlfriend things to please her and make her happy again, just because it turned her on even further.

She wanted to see how far you could go to make her happy, that she started calculating every speech and movement she did to see if you’d pay attention to what she wanted you to do. Moreover, Sakura had learnt these tactics from one of her highly exploitative mangas, using typical methodical porn tactics to fuck with your innocent little brain.

Sakura would subtly hint that she wasn’t gonna be mad at you, unless you started wearing those skimpy maid dresses that she bought you. And being the innocent people pleaser you were, you’d change out of your normal house clothes into the ones she gave you, under the guise it was “normal japanese pajamas.” Not being as chronically online as her, you thought nothing of it, slowly starting to wear the costumes she got you…all the time.

She felt like she was living her most deprived fantasies through you, for her, you were practically just a walking sex doll she couldn’t touch, not just yet. After all of this, she was starting to warm up to you again, little did you know this was all part of the plan to get you fucked up on her.

Ever single moment you spent trying to please her, the harder she got by the moment, it was hard to keep her boner under wraps whenever you’d wear those cute little short skirts while you sat nicely on her lap. Or how she’d subtly grind, and dry hump your ass whenever you were bent down cooking in the kitchen. All of these factors where things you choose to ignore because this was all for your precious roommate.

Sakura, being the perverted oldest she was, would sneak into your room at night, and take raunchy photos whenever she could whenever you slept. All to scurry back to her bedroom and use it as fap material once more.

It all came to a boiling point when you were rubbing your ass against her innocently, during one of her classic shooter gaming sessions. Her microphone which was on while she talked with her other teammates, was all of the sudden off. She began to place the headphone down onto the desk slowly letting it rest it atop the table.

With a lack of communication she lifted your waist off her hips and back down onto the exact placement of her rager was “Fuck Y/N baby, I can’t hold it anymore, don’t you know how hard you make me?” Sakura would bite back, watching you grind over her cock slowly, urging you to feel her.

“Kkura—! What the hell are you doing? Let go of me, it feels weird.” You’d plead, not liking the sensation it was bringing you whenever your cunt would graze upon her fabric boxers. Which was the only thing she would wear whenever she’d asked you to sit on her lap.

It didn’t make the situation better when you realized her hardened cock covered in a light piece of fabric, was making direct contact with your underwear as you had been forced to put on such skimpy skirt. The friction causing you to dig your nails into her knees, causing a halt to any further movement, this obviously ticked Sakura off, as her hands slid their way to her waist, digging into your skin harshly.

“Shit, don’t stop moving you dumb fuckin��� whore, your the one who’s been making me feel this way all the time, don’t you think I need a little compensation?” Sakura groaned, pulling down her boxers to reveal her hardened cock, she didn’t take a single second of waste, before sliding it in between your thighs and right in front of you slick panties, which was damp with wetness from your cunt. Instead of fucking you brainless here and now she wanted to take her sweet time.

Slowly thrusting into your thighs like a dirty dog, she leaned you over her keyboard as she continued to pleasure herself. Using your plush thighs almost like a fuck toy, she was letting out the purest, loudest groans she could ever formulate. The way her length worked its way in and out of your thighs as she held you up, fucking into you, letting the precum build on top of the tip of her cock, made the dampness of your panties darken. “Kkura, wait this is wrong— we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Well you shoudnt have been teasin’ me this whole time bitch. Walking around all dolled up with those dresses I gave you— hah, fuck that’s good.” She groaned, unable to finish her words as she quickened her pace, working her way into your thighs, only imagining if it was your sweet pussy instead, but cumming on your thighs was good too. “Oh shit! Fuck!” She grunted out, rutting into your thighs.

Her cum splattered all over your stomach and thighs, fucking slowly into you as she finished, her wet, sticky, fluids plastered all over your freshly cleaned body made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know your roommate, let alone your member was capable of doing something like this, despite repeatedly telling her not to. Before you had time to react and wipe all the shit off of you, she’s pulling your panties down hungrily.

“Sakura! Enough!” You pleaded with her, all the while she’s rolling her eyes at your demands, because how can a slut like you ask for anything. Sakura brings you up and pushed you down on the desk, having no concern that your tits are literally resting on the keyboard and your face is almost pushed up against the monitor screen. She’s been waiting for this moment her whole entire life, but she isn’t cruel, she wants to get you prepped up before she fucks you so good you can’t walk anymore.

Bringing her face down to your pussy, she begins to do soft kitten licks onto the folds, examining each and every crack as she spreads you wide open. Her tongue darting into wherever it can, trying to bring all the juices out from you as a sort of lubricant for what she was going to do next. Finally after eating you out for what seemed like hours, and letting you cum on her tongue a couple of times, she left one last kiss before pulling away. “Mhm baby, I think you’re all ready now.” Due to your own pleasure you failed to notice how she was jerking herself off every time she made contact with your pussy, cumming whenever you were, completely just enthralled with the view.

Bringing herself back up and lining her dick into your entrances, she lets out a low, instinctual growl, before slowly pushing herself in. The mix of your already overstimulated body, and her unexplainable girth, caused you to shake uncontrollably, your head peeking up when she fully bottomed herself out into you. “Ah! Fuck— mmpfh— Kkura!”

Your words were slurred, her name rolling off your tongue so easily, with every thrust a new hiccuped moan would intervene. The noises of skin slapping one another, and the gushes of your inside made Sakura want to bust in you then and there, though, she desperately wanted to hear more of you. Sakura rolled her eyes back from how nicely you were taking her at that moment, pounded into you until it was nothing but your voice calling out to her that filled the room.

“Shit, your so tight, fuckin’ whore” She grunted underneath her breath, each word following a harsh slam into your cervix. Her breathing became more rugged as she continued, the pounding less calculated, and the knot in your stomach threatened to unwind. Taking a fist full of your hair into her palms, Sakura pushed your head onto the monitor screen, giving her the ability to push deeper into your guts you didn’t know she could reach.

Your body, one that was once filled with so much pain and discomfort, was now truly fully consumed with pleasure and ecstasy. The squelching noises filled the room, her names rolled off your tongue so easily, “Saku, mhm…”

She had no choice but to use this as leverage, maybe even confirmation that you wanted this too, her boner twitching at the thought of doing this again, and again… and again. Sakura, pulled her hands up towards your face and inserted her fingers into your mouth, as you felt her climax come closer and closer.

Your hips grinded all over hers, liking the way her dick warmed up every single inch of you, until your felt your knees buckle at the sensation. “Mpphm!” You moan out, your sounds muffled by Sakura, as her fingers where still pushed into to base of your tongue, making you unable to formulate coherent sentences. Your juices coating her member, leaving a slight stream of wetness running down your leg as Sakura fucking you through your high.

“Good girl, cum— cum for me baby.” She groaned, continuing to fuck into your overstimulated cunt until she reached her sweet release. With a few more heavy slams, you felt Sakura’s ruthless rhythm falter, she took the primal instinctive to pull you up by your hair, watching you intently as she dumped the rest of her cum inside of you.

Pushing your lips together as she bottomed you out, still yanking at your hair, she let a glob of spit run into your mouth as she pulled away. Pushing your head down to the monitor once more as she got up, and off of you, the sensation of her living your gummy insides sent a shiver down your spine, but you where too fucked out of your mind to comment on that. “Fuckin’ slut, took this long to fuck you when you clearly wanted it as much as I do.”

She stood up and grabbed her boxers, pulling them back onto herself before taking in the sight in front of her. The roommate and bandmate she so desperately wanted to fuck for months, was sprawled onto her gaming desk like this was an artwork in itself. “Shit bitch you look good like this, get ready for tomorrow, I wanna do this again.” She chirped, leaning down to look at your dazed state before leaving a peck on your forehead, pulling away and scurrying out of the room like nothing happened.

[sweetsaladpainterranch]

The Rival

Summary: Alastor sought to possess one of the only does in Pentegram City for the rut season, however, you wanted a mate, not a master. But what happens when a handsome new buck shows up one day and tries to capture your attention away from the Radio Demon. Who will you choose?

(Just some practice at writing drama but I hope you enjoy)

You weren't stupid. You knew that Alastor would call upon you only because he needed a warm body to ride out his rut and not out of any naive sense of romance. Every few months you'd receive an unsurprising visit from the Radio Demon casually resting in your hotel room before whisking you off for a vigorous week of reliving both of your heats. His earthy pheromones having triggered your own. It was usually obvious when Alastor would arrive because you could always feel fiery red eyes on your form and often noticed a dark presence shifting around in your peripheral vision. Of course, this would have freaked you out but it was also nice that you didn't have to go out of your way to avoid the numerous male cervid demons suffering through their own rut cycles of the season. Having never seen another female deer demon, you realized you were probably in for a bad time if one of those desperate bastards got a hold of you. So you didn't mind a little extra security as you went about your business. 

The very moment you walked through your door, an almost overwhelming scent of a warm, mossy, musk invaded your senses as waves of static washed over you. "Ah, there's my pretty doe. How was your day out my love?", Alastor greeted you in his typical cheery voice that made your heart flutter, but you knew the sweet-sounding pet name was only a product of his possessive manipulation. He knew very well how you reacted to his charm and he had no qualms about using it to gain your sexual compliance. "Oh, you know, quiet as Hell can be." You sat across from him on an armchair and smirked at the bittersweet domestic feeling as his shadow appeared next to you with a tea cup and a small bowl of sugar cubes. You scratched its shadowy scalp with gratitude as you took the offered drink, "And thank you for the company lately", you cooed to its delighted purrs. 

Alastor cleared his throat to get both of your attention as he began, "Yes, well”, he suddenly appeared in front of your chair and bent down to your eye level, "your protection would prove much easier if you would simply make a deal with me so that all of those pathetic weaklings would know who you belonged to." You didn't miss how his voice deepened into a static-filled threat but that didn't stop you from brushing away his outstretched hand as you stood up to put away your things. Of course, Alastor had been trying to get you to agree to a deal since the beginning of your...relationship(?), however, you had seen and known many people who deeply regretted making a deal with him. You knew he only wanted the same thing as every other cervid guy, regardless of how you felt about him. He didn't want a mate to love and protect. He wanted to possess the rare commodity of a breedable doe for himself.

 "I don't belong to anyone, Alastor.", you snapped, "You already give me protection from other males in exchange for my working you through your heat." He let out a dismissive chuckle when you shimmied your ample chest, but you saw the slight blush creeping across his face at the visions likely dancing through his mind. 

God, sometimes you wished there were more women deer around so that you could just live your fucking afterlife in peace. (But then, what if you'd never met Alastor and he had found another to see his ruts through?)

***

As you both headed downstairs to dinner, Alastor more so following you as was his habit during the season, you could hear Charlie loudly speaking to someone.

"Great! Well let's head o-", she was cut off by your entrance into the lobby which revealed a large figure sporting an impressive set of thick antlers. You could feel Alastor stiffen and tighten his hold on your shoulders. The scent of the visitor told you why. It was definitely another male deer, also nearing his heat like Alastor, and it was obvious that he must've followed your feminine smell here. Charlie began to walk towards you with a large smile, "Oh, hey there! I was actually just about to show our newest guest", she gestured in the stranger’s direction, "a tour and I'd love you to join us as other deer demons." She had a hopeful bounce in her step, "This is James.", who nodded and began to look you up and down with intensity. 

"Yes, I'm very interested in what your hotel may offer, Ms. Charlie." He was wearing a loose-fitting flannel shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of worn jeans, but you could tell that he was absolutely jacked. His forearms alone looked like freaking tree trunks and he was easily taller than even Alastor with an equally enticing scent that made your stomach flip. James had begun to move further in your direction, however, a loud growl ripped through the lobby as ear-splitting static made everyone turn to its source behind you. 

"I'm afraid we've no vacancies at the moment.", he snarled, "Allow me to escort you towards the exit." Alastor had already begun to grow into his demonic form and used his shadow tendrils to violently eject the large buck onto the front lawn before anyone could make a sound. 

Charlie quickly darted after the two males, followed by you, only to be confronted by an impossibly odd sight. James stood tall without a scratch or sign of fear on him in the face of a giant, demonic Alastor. He even looked like he was all too happy to clap back with a strong, demonic aura of his own. However, the princess halted Alastor's intended strike with a burst of flames and a disappointed comment at his attitude towards a potential guest. And immediately apologized to James as she whirled around him checking for injuries, but none were to be found. 

Did Alastor take it easy on this guy? Why? He's always simply killed potential rival suitors, this one in his territory no less, so, why was he still alive?!

Charlie returned to the lobby, leading James by his massive arm, and proceeded to ask, a very pissed-looking, Alastor to fix the now broken doors as she led the two of you on a tour of the hotel. You could feel both James' smile and Alastor's silent rage boring into the back of your head as you walked with a clueless Charlie.

***

The intense air of murderous intent in between the two male cervids had only gotten worse over the next week after freaking deer Paul Bunion was placed in a room next to yours, which was across from Alastor’s. Charlie thought you'd be able to better connect another deer demon and maybe help him if needed, though she had no idea about the conflict she had placed in your lap.

James commented, during a group share circle, that he assumed that he was a Canadian reindeer, who was relatively new to Hell. He also made it clear that he simply didn't know, or care, who the Radio Demon was. The two constantly locked horns, both physically and metaphorically as the countdown to the rutting season was running out. You also found out through Angel Dust that Alastor was absolutely forbidden from using his power to injure a resident of the hotel. 

Which you assumed was why he didn't simply wipe James off the concrete outside like a pancake off a hot griddle. 

However, this didn't stop Alastor from staking his claim on you in other ways. For instance, he always had to have a hand on you somewhere. On your knee during group talks on the lobby couch, on your shoulder while you ate a meal, and on your lower back when he walked you from room to room. James didn’t seem to give too much of a fuck as he frequently kept at your other side and proceeded to continuously compliment you, give you small gifts, or make a particularly chapped joke that you couldn’t help but giggle and blush at. Of course, that usually resulted in being pulled closer into Alastor’s side away from the other male as he snarled and rubbed his face into your hair to try and mark you with his scent.  

You couldn’t lie. You very much enjoyed the attention of the two strong males as they vied for your affection and mating rights.

One early morning, while Alastor was forced to leave your side, in order to attend an overlord meeting, James found you in your rose garden behind the hotel and offered to help you plant your new buds. After a few minutes of digging and placing the rose roots, he spoke up, “Can I ask if youse and Alastor are an item?”. He smiled at your blushing expression and continued, “Not to offend ma’am, but I’d like to show you what a true buck is.”

Your eye twitched a bit at the insult towards Alastor, but you remained calm, “It's… complicated between us.”. James simply leaned in and smiled encouragingly, “Alastor isn’t exactly into relationships, but he takes care of me during the rut season.” 

“What about the rest of the time?”, he asked while bringing his face practically an inch from yours, “Does he make you feel like the forest queen you are? Or does he simply forget you until he needs something from you?” His steel eyes brightened in victory at your affirming face toward his questions, “I-I…um…”, you tried to defend your reasons for continuously coming back to Alastor again and again even though he couldn't care less about you during the rest of the year. 

He held your hand tenderly in one of his, while also cupping your cheek with the other and whispered, “Let me give you what you deserve, sweetheart. Love not possession. Tenderness, not indifference.” You were so absolutely enthralled by his deep voice and his potent musk that you could only stare blankly as he finally leaned in and softly pressed his lips against your own.

***

Hey, Again this is just some drama and relationship writing practice for a beginner class I'm taking.

-SSPR

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 6

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.7k

c/w - language, tiny bit of angst (this is only the beginning i fear.)

a/n - is it cringe of me to ask for live reactions? bc i want live reactions sb. anyway, sorry ik i said this chap would be long and juicy but i decided to hold off on the juicy part, i needed a lil more plot development! also ty to everyone who sends me asks, even if it’s just things like “when’s the next part😫” i love it sm lol. hope yall like this one!!

The next two days are—at least compared to the first two—almost peaceful. The weather is nice, just warm enough and not too humid, which Azzi’s hair appreciates. She got goddess braids done just before the trip and even in protective styles, her hair gets frizzy at the very notion of moisture.

The peacefulness largely comes from the fact that Paige is avoiding her parents like the plague, instead spending all her time with Azzi and her siblings. The third day they spend almost entirely at the local park, shooting around at the court there under the hot sun. Lauren even reluctantly joins for a few games, and she may be adamant about not wanting to play basketball but the talent for it must be genetic because she’s a natural. And if Paige and Azzi spend the whole ‘competition’ brushing hands and flirting, nobody says anything. (Though Ryan does wrinkle his nose at them a few times.)

The fourth day starts out warm, and so Paige and Azzi sneak the kids out bright and early (Azzi, of course, ends up with the job of waking all three siblings up—not one of them is a morning person whatsoever) and go to an ice cream shop, where they eat their cold, sweet breakfasts on the curb while they chat. Both Ryan and Lauren may have argued that they were too old to be excited about ice cream for breakfast anymore, but they both end up with matching, chocolate-covered grins when they’re done.

The weather turns for the worst before noon, though, and the kids want to go home but Paige insists they go to the arcade instead. When she says she’ll pay for as many games as they want, they’re easily swayed. Of course, Paige and Azzi make a competition out of the day, deciding to keep a tally of all their points so that whoever has the most wins by the end has to buy the whole group prizes.

Azzi gives it a fighting go but Paige plays way more video games than she does so she very nearly beats her—but then, when they’re almost out of game tickets, Azzi pouts at her about the whole situation, and suspiciously, she ends up making an incredible recovery, easily beating Paige at almost every game after that.

Lauren picks a koala plushie, Ryan picks some new shoes, and Azzi gets this shiny plastic tiara.

“You didn’t have to get the cheapest prize,” Paige says as Azzi adjusts the tiara on her head. “I got money.”

“I know,” Azzi replies, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “But I had to. As the princess.”

Paige gives her that stupid fucking look again—the one Azzi still can’t figure out even though she knows Paige like the back of her hand, which is just driving her crazy—and that look shows up so often Azzi should really just start referring to it as The Look at this point.

But then Paige smiles, previous odd expression gone, and the way she does that,—slips out of it like she doesn’t even realize it was there in the first place—drives Azzi even more crazy than The Look itself.

Now, it is the fifth day. And Azzi reminisces on these past two blissful days to try and distract herself from the fact that Paige and her parents are having a heated argument right in front of her and her scrambled eggs.

“No, Paige,” Amy is saying. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t do that!” Paige replies, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m an adult, I make my own money, I can do—“

“It’s stupid.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t, because it’s not happening.” Amy is unpacking a load of groceries, and Dean is lingering in the corner of the kitchen being absolutely useless. That seems to be his brand.

“Yes it will, Mom,” Paige replies, voice lower now but still obviously frustrated. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just seeing if you wanted to come with us. I was tryna be nice!”

“Well it won’t be nice when you crash and we all drown, Paige.”

“Jesus, Mom! I ain’t gonna go around crashing!”

Azzi feels very uncomfortable, wishing she were literally anywhere else, but at the same time this is sort of amusing and she has to hide a smile in a bite of eggs.

This argument is, out of all things, about a boat. Paige wants to rent one and have a lake day, and though she didn’t want to, Azzi convinced her to invite her parents—she figured they’d decline but that they’d be offended if they weren’t at least invited.

She wasn’t really expecting a lecture to come out of it, though. But by the tired look on Paige’s face, she knew exactly what was coming their way.

“You don’t even have a boating license,” Amy continues, placing a new jug of milk and some apples in the fridge. “This is illegal. If you won’t listen to your mother, at least listen to the law.”

That very nearly gets a giggle out of Azzi. She chokes it down.

“This is a private lake, I’on need my license.”

“Well that doesn’t sound shady at all.”

“It’s not, it’s super legit!” Paige makes for her phone in her back pocket. “It has its own website and everything, I looked way into it.”

Amy stares her daughter down for a few seconds, hands on her hips, before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Like you said, Paige, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re an adult, do what you want. But you will not be taking your siblings on that death trap.”

“Wha…” Paige flounders, eyebrows furrowed, and her voice raises again, “that was the whole point of this entire thing!”

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll make them wear life jackets!”

“They’re teenagers,” Dean points out rather unhelpfully, and it’s the first time he’s spoken around her in days but Azzi is already sick of him again. “Neither of them are gonna wear life jackets.”

“I’ll force them, I swear.”

“Paige Madison,” Amy snaps, and Paige may be an independent adult now but she still straightens her back subconsciously at her mother’s warning tone, “no means no. They are my kids.”

“They’re my siblings!” Paige replies—rather boldly, Azzi thinks, because if Azzi were in her place she would’ve given up by now.

But Paige, as most daughters do, knows exactly how far to push her mother to get what she wants—apparent in the way Amy massages her temples with her fingers before saying, “You know what, Paige? Fine.”

Dean is jumping in immediately. “What? No, she can’t take my kids out on a boat.”

“She’s right, Dean,” Amy says, though she looks a little pained to be siding with her daughter for once. “They’re her siblings. She wants to do something fun for them.”

“It’s dangerous!” Dean motions sporadically at where Paige and Azzi are sitting at the island. Azzi’s eggs are gone now and so she has nothing to put her awkward energy into. “Neither of them owns a boat, and they are practically strangers—“

“She is my daughter,” Amy says, and it’s so quiet Azzi almost doesn’t hear it, but she does, and it sends shivers through her. Because there’s something dangerous, something protective in her tone, something only a mother who loves their child could convey. And it sends a flicker of hope through her. “She is my daughter and I trust her with her siblings.”

Dean flounders for something but comes up empty, instead storming off all red-faced like a child. Amy doesn’t look either of them in the eye when she says, “Let me know if you kids need anything today,” before leaving the two best friends alone in the kitchen.

Slowly, Paige turns to look at Azzi, something like disbelief in her expression. “Did that—actually go well?”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I think it did.”

Things may just be looking up.

———————————————

Dean may be an asshole, but it turns out he was right about one thing: Ryan and Lauren will not wear life jackets.

“C’mon, guys, it’s the law,” Paige insists, thrusting a pink life jacket at her sister, who scrunches her nose in disgust.

“No way! That’s so ugly, Paige.”

“The color wont matter when you’re drowning.”

“You sound just like Mom!” Lauren sighs, and Paige’s mouth falls open.

“You did not just say that.”

Lauren gives Paige a smug smile, which amuses Azzi because it’s the same smile Paige gives her whenever she wins an argument. “And I meant it too.”

If Lauren were not much smaller than Paige, she would be tackling her right now, based off the look on her face. But instead she composes herself and turns to Ryan, who is sitting at the front of the speedboat on his phone. He feels his older sister’s gaze and looks up at her, then at the life jacket in her hands. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being so for real.”

“There’s gonna be hot girls in bikinis on the lake,” Ryan replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “No way I’m wearing a life jacket.”

Paige sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers, and Azzi would never say it out loud (for fear of being pushed into the lake) but she does kind of look like her mom in this moment.

When Paige turns on her with a warning look, Azzi startles, wondering if she’s somehow read her mind. But instead, Paige picks up another life jacket and says, “Will you at least wear one?”

Azzi smiles, a little puzzled. “Paige, I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.” Which is obvious considering she and Paige have spent various lake days at her family’s cabin.

“Yeah, but for my peace of mind, though!” Paige shakes the life jacket in Azzi’s direction.

The truth is, Azzi wouldn’t mind wearing the life jacket. But ever since she put on this bikini—pastel purple in color—Paige has been swallowing thickly and averting her eyes constantly. So Azzi thinks she has other reasons for wanting her to cover up.

And Azzi can’t let her get away with that, can she?

“I don’t need it.” Azzi steps forward and takes the life jacket out of Paige’s grasp, tossing it aside before reaching to trail her hand down Paige’s bicep, squeezing the hard muscle a little bit. “And besides, won’t you save me if I’m drowning?” she asks, smiling coyly.

Paige’s throat bobs, eyes landing respectfully on a spot past Azzi’s shoulder. “Well, that’s not really how that works.”

Azzi blinks, and she knows just how big and brown her eyes are when she looks up at Paige through her lashes. “No? Thought you’ve been in the gym?”

“I have,” Paige says defensively.

“Hm.” Azzi lets her hand trail off Paige’s arm, resting it on Paige’s side before dancing her fingers dangerously over Paige’s exposed abs. “You wanna prove that to me, baby?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and Azzi loves the way she can not only see but feel her stomach tense under her fingers. But the moment is broken by a gagging sound nearby.

Lauren—who has sat beside her brother and pulled out her own phone—is now looking at them with disgust. “You guys are so gross.”

“You shouldn’t be making sexual innuendos in front of Lauren,” Ryan adds on, though his eyes don’t leave his screen.

“Yeah!” Lauren agrees, then furrows her eyebrows and starts tapping at her phone. Azzi guesses she’s probably searching what sexual innuendo means.

“Hey, yo, don’t blame me,” Paige says, putting her hands up and taking two big steps away from Azzi. “She started it.”

“Azzi’s a freak,” Ryan says.

“Whoa, chill!”

“Hey, that’s actually offensive,” Lauren says. She has picked up a habit of defending Azzi with her life these last few days they’ve spent together, and Azzi has decided she would do the same. “That’s like calling her a monster or something.”

Ryan smirks, finally looking up at them. “I didn’t mean that kinda freak.”

“Okayyy!” Paige jumps in before Lauren can do any more Googling. “Let’s get this show on the road. Imma go untie us real quick, then we’ll head out.”

For the first time, nerves bubble in Azzi’s tummy. “Paige, you sure you’ll be able to drive this thing?”

Paige looks almost offended at the question. “Yeah, duh.”

“It’s just, you’ve never driven a speed boat before…”

“Trust me, mama,” Paige says, nodding cockily to herself. “I got driving skills like you’ve never seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Azzi realizes Paige was telling the truth. She has certainly never seen these driving skills before.

Paige is an—erratic driver, to put it mildly. This lake is private, huge, and though there are plenty of other boaters out Paige drives as if they’re the only ones on the water. At one point, she gets to such a high speed that even Ryan grasps onto Azzi a little bit.

When Paige very nearly runs into a cruising party boat, Azzi finally gets up from her place between the kids and marches over to Paige, who glances up at her with a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“Lemme drive,” Azzi demands, beckoning for Paige to get up.

“No!” Paige says stubbornly. “I’m doin’ good!”

“I thought I was going to die!” Lauren pipes up angrily.

Azzi motions to her. “See? You’re scaring your brother and sister.”

“Whoa, who said I was scared?” Ryan says.

Azzi decides against bringing up the fact that he kept clinging to her arm. “This is scary, I wanna drive.”

“But babeee,” Paige groans, bringing the boat to a stop so she can properly argue, “you drive like a grandma.”

“I drive like a sane person, is what I think you mean to say.”

“It’ll be boring.”

“Paige.”

Paige stares her down for a moment before sighing like a stubborn little kid. “Fine. You can drive.”

Azzi nods, pleased, and shoves at Paige’s shoulder when she doesn’t move. “Get up.”

A slow smile creeps over Paige’s face and Azzi doesn’t like the look of that at all. “I gotta show you the ropes.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to drive this thing,” Azzi says as if it’s obvious, because really, it is. The thought of Paige trying to teach anyone her…unique ways is downright scary. “I got it.”

“Nah, I think you’ll need some help.”

“P, for real, stop being difficult and move.”

“I’m not about to—“

“Can we go?” Lauren says loudly, getting both girls’ attention.

“Yeah, I’m getting hot as hell just sitting here,” Ryan agrees.

“I wanna get to that diving cliff Paige was talking about!”

Before Azzi can turn back to Paige to continue arguing with her, Paige has her hands on her hips and is pulling her firmly into her lap. Azzi squeaks, grabbing onto the wheel for leverage.

“Paige!” she exclaims, turning to glare at the smug-looking girl underneath her.

“You heard them,” Paige says simply, shrugging her shoulders as if her hands are tied. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t—“ Azzi starts to argue once again, but then Lauren is sighing dramatically in that teenage-girl way of her’s and saying, “Seriously, come on!”

So, almost in a daze, Azzi turns back to the front and moves her hand to the shift, getting the boat moving slowly again. She tries desperately to ignore it when Paige leans up close to her ear and murmurs, “Atta girl,” but she can’t help the goosebumps that erupt over her neck and Paige must spot them because she chuckles lightly before leaning back, letting Azzi do her thing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of Paige’s hot breath fanning over her skin, Azzi amps up the speed a little bit, determined to show Paige that she can be fun and safe, as promised.

After a few minutes of skimming over the water, Azzi calls over the wind, “Thought you were gonna ‘show me the ropes’?”

“Looks like you got it,” Paige says, sitting straight so she’s pressed up against Azzi’s back again, and her hands find their place on Azzi’s waist.

“Why’d you make me sit on your lap, then, P?” Azzi asks, and her tone lilts teasingly but she is sort of freaking out on the inside because moments like these—moments where Azzi hardly bothers to hide her feelings for Paige and Paige, instead of shying away, responds—are becoming a little too common for comfort.

Paige rests her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, lips brushing her cheek when she says, “Think you know why, hm?”

Yeah. Definitely far too common for comfort.

Ramping up the speedboat a little bit—enough that Ryan whoops and Lauren leans over the side to touch the water—Azzi shifts her hips. She moves out of discomfort, almost subconsciously trying to get away from this buzzing energy between her and her best friend, but Paige lets out a huff of air at the motion and, curious, Azzi does it again.

A full-on gasp this time.

A flush creeps up over Azzi’s cheeks all the way down her chest, and she’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or shyness, though likely it’s both. But she can’t let Paige have the upper hand, because Azzi can’t even imagine how quickly she’d fold if that happened. So instead, she turns her head to the side and says, “All good, Paige?”

The problem with this is Paige’s face is still turned toward her when she says it. And when Azzi moves to reciprocate the angle, their lips are so close that they brush on the last word. On the utterance of Paige’s name.

Azzi jerks back as soon as it happens, putting a couple inches of distance between their faces, and she’s sure the flush is noticeable by now. She tries for a lighthearted laugh, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were so close—“

She doesn’t see it coming when Paige kisses her.

It pulls a gasp out of her, lips now pressed against Paige parting slightly in surprise, and her eyes don’t even close until she feels Paige’s tongue dip inside her mouth.

It’s a quick swipe, her tongue against the space between Azzi’s teeth and upper lip before she’s pulling away—only enough to make the kiss much more chaste.

Her hands slide from Azzi’s waist to her stomach, and Azzi grips onto the steering wheel for dear life when Paige moans ever so quietly into her mouth, the sound barely heard over the wind whipping around them. And then the wind is whipping Paige’s hair into their faces, a few strands getting in Azzi’s mouth, which she takes as her opportunity to pull away. Paige stares at her—The Look again—for only a split second this time (Azzi much prefers that over the lingering one) before her face is breaking into a smile, not cocky or smug or teasing but just bright, and Azzi can’t help but laugh with her as they pull Paige’s hair out of her mouth.

“Keep your eyes on the lake!” Lauren yells at them, and when they look at her she’s got her nose wrinkled. “What is it with you guys and PDA today?”

“Maybe someone put viagra in their coffees this morning,” Ryan suggests, looking equally as disgusted as his little sister but also twice as amused.

“What’s viagra?” Lauren asks.

“Yo, Ryan!” Paige snaps, her hands moving tantalizingly from Azzi’s tummy to rest low on her hips instead, and Azzi forces herself to look back where she’s driving. “Keep it PG, dawg!”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replies, and Azzi isn’t looking at him but she can picture the smirk on his face—she knows the look all too well by now.

The three of them bicker for a few more minutes, and Azzi tries really hard to focus on where they’re going rather than the implications of that kiss and all the questions that follow it.

Paige is the bad driver, but when she leans forward and mimics her—“All good, baby?”—Azzi worries she may be the one to crash this boat.

———————————————

“Sunscreen time!”

“No, what?”

“We just put some on!”

“Az, I’m never gonna tan at this point!”

Shaking the sunscreen into her hands, Azzi motions the three siblings towards her. “C’mon, you need it.”

“I don’t burn,” Lauren insists as she steps up in front of Azzi, lifting her arms dutifully anyway.

“You’re already getting a little red,” Azzi points out, applying an extra-thick layer onto Lauren’s rosy nose.

“This is lame,” Lauren groans, though she still lets Azzi work in silence and mumbles a thank you before she turns back to the lake.

Ryan is next, and he doesn’t complain about it but he does stare down at his phone the entire time, his head only falling back down when Azzi tries to push it up. “Ryan,” she sighs.

He tears his eyes away from his phone, only to look around subconsciously. Azzi knows he’s trying to see if the gaggle of teenage girls along the rocky beach have noticed him getting his sunscreen done.

“Hurry up,” Paige complains, nudging her younger brother in the back, and he turns around to shove her.

Azzi fights back a smile. “You can put it on yourself if that’s better.”

“It’s good,” he says nonchalantly, but he hasn’t quite mastered acting like he doesn’t care.

Azzi finishes up quickly, ending the torture with an encouraging smile, watching him run up to join his sister where she stands on the ledge above the lake, sneaking up on her. He pushes her in and Azzi laughs at the way Lauren screeches before her eyes drift to Paige, who is now standing right in front of her, looking awfully petulant.

“You really don’t want me to tan, huh?” she says, wincing as Azzi rubs the cold lotion over Paige’s sun-kissed shoulders.

“Your white ass is gonna burn if we don’t do this every thirty minutes,” Azzi says, reiterating what she said the past five times Paige complained about the sunscreen.

“I got a little melanin in me.”

Azzi looks at the way Paige’s blue eyes are squinting against the summer sun, the way her pale skin is already tinted pink, and raises her brows.

Paige holds her hand up. “Just gimme the sunscreen.”

Chuckling, Azzi squirts some into her hand before giving the bottle to Paige, who turns around and starts doing her front while Azzi does her back. They’ve done this maybe a hundred times, before countless sunny fair days and hot boat rides, but today it just feels a little…off. Everything feels a little off about them recently.

Azzi worries it may be her fault. She has always been good at hiding her feelings for Paige, good at making sure her attraction doesn’t show on her face just like she knows all her other emotions do. But recently, ever since they began this facade—and more so ever since they arrived in Montana—she knows she’s been slipping up. She thought she’d be okay but she wasn’t prepared for the way Paige would look at her like she wasn’t pretending, the way Paige calls her pet names even when they’re alone, the way Paige told her she liked kissing her and wants to do it again.

The way Paige did do it again.

And there lies the burning question: why?

Azzi knows Paige doesn’t have feelings for her. Azzi knows that she’s the only one who lies awake thinking about having Paige in every sense of the word, the only one who wakes up in the middle of the night thinking of Paige with an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs. She is the only one, of course, who is in love.

Then why do Paige’s eyes and hands wander nowadays? Why does she call her baby in quiet moments? Why did she kiss her when she really didn’t have to?

Could she be—attracted to Azzi? Maybe through playing this role, she’s seen Azzi in a new light, and realized her best friend is no longer dorky and fourteen but rather a tall, pretty twenty year old with a great ass. (And yes, Azzi knows she has a great ass.)

She could be attracted to her and not be in love. She could be attracted to her and have no other attachment whatsoever. The two things can be true at once, can’t they?

The thought flatters her but it mostly scares her, because she’s barely surviving this unrequited love as it is. But with her best friend having any level of attraction back? How is she supposed to continue on like that?

“Azzi?” Paige asks, and the tone of her voice implies she’s already said it a few times.

Azzi hums, blinking. “Sorry, yeah?”

“Uh,” Paige says, and it’s then that Azzi realizes her hands have stopped rubbing lotion into Paige’s back and have sort of just come to rest on her waist—like it’s instinctive. Like it’s natural. “You done back there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi says, but for some unknown reason she can’t find it in herself to let go.

Paige glances over her shoulder. “Azzi?” she repeats.

Azzi can’t really take it any longer.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Paige’s sides tense up under Azzi’s hands, and then she’s stepping away, out of her grasp, and turning to face her.

The look on her face is guarded, almost closed off completely. This is dangerous territory and Azzi has barely dipped her toes in the water yet.

When Azzi’s hands fall helplessly to her sides, Paige says, “I was pretending.”

As much as Azzi doesn’t buy it, the words—and the flat, cold intonation of them—sting. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why’re you being weird about it?” Paige asks, eyes dancing nervously away from Azzi’s face.

“I’m not, Paige. I just—I wanna know. For real.”

“You agreed to do this for me,” Paige reminds her, as if that has anything to do with this. But, of course, it has everything to do with this, and Azzi hates how easy it makes it for the both of them to hide under a facade, a lie.

“I know,” Azzi says carefully, also taking a step back if only to get away from Paige’s chilly stare. “But you didn’t have to kiss me this time. There wasn’t a reason.”

Paige shrugs, and Azzi hates to admit it but she is much better than her younger brother at acting nonchalant. “We’re s’posed to be a couple. I don’t want my siblings getting suspicious. They know I’m a touchy person.”

Getting the sinking feeling that Azzi won’t get anything out of this conversation other than a fight, she nods slowly, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Paige, as usual, thaws at the slightest hint of weakness, taking a tiny step forward. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Azzi is a little too quick to say. The kiss caught her by surprise, but they’ve only done it two times and Azzi is quickly coming to find that kissing Paige is the most comfortable thing in the world—it’s natural, and right, and like curling up in bed with a book and a warm cup of tea—and Azzi also knows they should never do it again.

Despite the earnest answer, Paige looks at her suspiciously. “You sure, ma? Don’t ever wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi does her best to fix her face, which she worries may be showing a little too much. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Aight,” Paige says, but she still doesn’t sound very convinced. Azzi’s just glad she’s letting it go.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Azzi says. She’s not.

At this, Paige sighs, reaching out to bridge the gap between them, running a gentle hand up and down Azzi’s arm. “Nah, don’t be, I get it. Sorry for getting a lil defensive.”

A little? Despite the fact she doesn’t believe Paige one bit, and that she doesn’t like anything about the interaction they just had, Azzi manages a smile. “You’re good.”

Paige nods, and her smile at least seems to be sincere. But as they jump into the lake, and as Paige talks Azzi’s ear off while Azzi floats around lazily in a donut floatie, things feel even more off than before.

Azzi can’t quite place what it is until late that night, when they’re both going to sleep and Paige is, for the first time in ages, strangely quiet. She glances over to find Paige lying on her stomach, face turned away, breathing too quickly to be asleep.

And that’s when Azzi notices it. The gap between them, the sheer amount of space from Azzi on her side all the way to Paige, who is almost on the edge of the bed.

Paige always sleeps close to Azzi.

And she always sleeps with her head turned towards her.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list btw!!

[luveline]

For KBD asks. Maybe pregnant! Reader and Steve are able to have a little babymoon with just the two of them and he’s just super sweet and lovey dovey with reader 😊😊 love your writing!!

KBD —you and Steve spend some rare time alone. mom!reader

You thought going on vacation three weeks before your due date was one, misguided, and two, more pain than it was worth, but Steve insisted it would be relaxing and you’d figured why not. He deserves a vacation. 

You wished you’d done this for every baby, now. 

“What a beautifully huge bump.” 

You don’t feel beautiful, huge is allowed. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You and Steve lay lakeside, just a couple hours from home. He passes you a glass wet with condensation, a drink you’re sharing, your turn to sip at the slushy insides. 

“It really is ginormous,” you say after a sip. It’s not horrifying or alien or anything people love to say of big baby bumps, but it is heavy. Perhaps not as beautiful as you wish, but doing a good job. You hold your stomach. In half a moment, the baby stirs. 

“Any further along for names?”

With three girls at home and a fourth drawing near, you’ve not thought about it much. There are other urgent matters to attend to, dance classes, crayons, a new bassinet, a new rocker, a new everything that Steve had to build. You’ve been trying to make sure everybody in the family is happy, including Steve, which hasn’t left much time just for you. 

The babymoon was a great idea. Steve is a genius, ten times as thoughtful as he thinks he is.

“Not one,” you say. 

“Well, you’ll think of something.” 

“Can you come and kiss me?” You turn your face to point at the soft skin under your jaw. “Right here?” 

Steve lays like a dead body in his chair. Boneless, he turns his head away from you, then slowly back. “Oh, sorry, are you talking to me? You wouldn’t really make your gorgeous husband get up again when he’s only just laid down, right?” 

“As opposed to what, gorgeous husband?” you ask mildly. “You want me to get up?” 

You’re lucky you can still move. Bump is huge and hurting. Every step you take hurts both your ankles and your spine. 

Steve sighs like he’s in pain, but he gets up. He crosses the step to your lounger, and kneels down beside it. “Where did you want it?” he asks, his breaths throwing goosebumps down your arms. 

“Wherever you wanna put it.” 

“I could kiss all over you,” he says, bringing his turned hand to your cheek, flat of his nail caressing your cheek. “Don’t tempt me.” 

He moves his hand to the other cheek, furthest from him, and holds your face, giving you a firm squeeze. It’s not intimidating, the opposite, like a silent I got you as he turns your face away and leans in. 

“Here?” he asks against the place you’d pointed. 

You laugh, taking a fistful of his soft hair. “Stop, you’re tickling me.” 

“You asked for this.” 

“I asked for a kiss.” 

“Right.” He kisses you in the place you’d pointed originally. 

“This is really nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Not just the kiss. This vacation.” You brush your fingers through his hair. 

“I wish we’d known about it before. I love our girls, but…” 

But this is the first time you and Steve have been alone together for a long, long time, the first time you’ve ever been completely alone with your new baby. You can’t forget how much you love Steve, but it’s a great reassurance to be here and remember that you’re good together. You’re a family unit, but you’re also just Y/N and Steve. 

“I miss spending time with you,” Steve says. “I know this is the worst time to say it, but we need to spend more time together, just you and me.” 

You turn into his hand. “No, I get it,” you whisper.

It doesn’t need to be said how much you love your kids, isn’t that what you’re thinking day in and day out? You love them, you take care of them, it’s a full time job. And yet this time without them feels rare and priceless at once. It’s not a great time to realise it when you’re about to have a newborn and absolutely no free time, but it’s okay. You can make it work. 

Steve wraps his arms around you, forcing you forward to embrace you tightly. You're quick to hug back. 

“I’ll never get over you,” he says. 

“‘Magine we never met.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“I can’t think about it without you… doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It doesn’t make sense, we’re the only right way.” He smiles into your cheek. 

“I really can’t picture my life without you.” 

Steve draws back. He can’t look at you with any more softness than he does then, even as his lips turn into a smirky grin. “You don’t need to. And let’s not! It’s exhausting, I just wanna lay in the sun with you, listen to the sound of the lake.” 

“Are your knees hurting?” 

You’ve just remembered he’s kneeling in shorts on the wooden dock. Steve laughs. “Who cares about my knees? Come on, I’m having another kiss.” 

“Says who?” you ask. 

He tips your chin up. 

[manmadejoyswithinmycomprehension]

Mr. Gap x Fem. Reader (NSFW, descriptions of female genitalia; sadly idk how this dude works; also NOT PROOFREAD we die like the doll)

You had been wandering around for a while, torn between going back to where that crawling, creepy figure lurked or going forward, where the road ahead was completely new. You had only managed to learn a few (very basic) words from someone who you liked to call "Mr. Hood" in an attempt to tone down his ghostly aura. With a defeated sigh, you left his room and headed towards the unknown hallway. Curiosity overtook you as you decided to explore. To the right was a seemingly giant, dark room, its floor covered in blood. The rumbling echoing throughout it was unsettling. Maybe not. You turned back, now weighing your options. Perhaps you didn't need to unblock the path?

Yeah, no, you definitely did. You were greeted with the creepy smile of a man peeking from behind the first door to the right. The language was still foreign to you, but he seemed to want something. Without thinking twice, you slammed the door in his face, muffling a scream. You'd much rather force your tired body to move a huge chunk of metal rather than interact with any ghost or monster or whatever roamed this world.

And so began your journey. With a lot of help from Mr. Silvair and the one who spooked you out the most when you arrived, Mr. Crawling, you got the hang of the language quite fast. But as you were exploring the old, dusty hallways after being separated from your companion and almost got killed by a huge creature, you notice a pair of twinkling eyes observing you from a crack in the wall. An idea pops up into your mind, and you rush to it in hopes of getting some help.

"Mr. Gap!"

"Hello. Me want hair. Give hair?"

"Hair give, help me!"

A strong hand dragged you into the opening, allowing the void to engulf you. Trusting this thing was risky, but at least you had a chance of surviving. The entire place was pitch black, and no matter how much you squinted, nothing more would reveal itself. You felt Mr. Gap's hand brush through your hair gently, before cutting it and nicking your neck. You try to reach for him and make him apologize, but he disappears again with a giggle.

Well, he kept his word, so we should give him that, right? He pushed you out of his "home" rather quickly after that, shoving you into a new room. But just because you agreed once it doesn't mean you're friends or anything. Far from it.

"Me want your heart. Give heart?"

"Cannot!"

"Shame... Give finger?"

"Cannot!"

Over and over. What does he even need them for? Sometimes it seemed as if he picked the worst moments to torment you. After a tiring walk and almost getting killed by the Cloth Monster, just when you laid down, he appeared between the blanket and the mattress. You couldn't hold in the scream that left you, slamming down the blanket. It left you feeling a bit guilty, though, so you gently lifted it back up, allowing him to return with a scowl on his face.

"You scared? Me friendly."

Groaning, you hold the blanket up, trying to find your words.

"Not scared, surprised."

His complexion twists into an eerie grin, his hand sliding up your thigh.

"Surprised? Feel good?"

His head dips back under the blanket, very clearly getting closer to your core. You couldn't deny the frustration which had been building up ever since you arrived there. It felt oddly... nice, having someone care enough to visit you.

His cold fingers gliding against your clit snapped you back into reality, your thighs clamping around his head. Did it deter him? Obviously not. He only took it as a sign to continue, slipping a finger inside and licking a long stripe across your clit. It was weirdly gentle and loving, his fingers stretching you out and hitting your sweetest spots, his tongue teasing your clit as you got closer and closer to-

[diazsdimples]

After the lightning, Buck downloads just about every weather app he can find. He doesn’t tell anyone - because he knows they’d immediately become concerned - he’s terrified of thunderstorms. If it’s forecast to be rainy, he’ll check, double check, and triple check that it’s only rain, and not a storm too. What he doesn’t know, is Eddie’s done the same thing.

The first storm happens a couple of months after Buck goes back to work, and he's ready for it. It's one of their nights off, so he gathers all the blankets in the loft, makes himself a little nest with his laptop, a hot water bottle, and some noise canceling headphones and he hunkers down for the night. He's just squeezed his eyes shut after the first flash of lightning when his phone rings. It's Eddie. Initially he doesn't want to answer, because he doesn't want to have anyone asking him how he is right now, but he also knows Eddie will just keep on ringing until he picks up. So he does.

Not once during that call does Eddie ask how Buck is. He immediately lauches into a long tale about Christopher's new crush, which turns into a story about the main characters on the telenovela he watches and "how the fuck have they not figure out they're in love yet", and finally they end up debating the pros and cons of having a smart fridge that shows you what's inside without having to open the door. Buck hangs up feeling a little confused, wondering what the occasion was for such a call, but the storm has passed and he didn't have a panic attack.

The next storm is in the dead of winter and Buck has been watching it brew for days, his anxiety mounting as it builds. He's planning on doing the same as last time, but then Eddie invites him over for dinner. It's not their usual night, and Chris is away with his grandparents in Texas, so Buck is a little confused but he says yes nonetheless. He's looking forward to some time with Eddie - the two of them have been toeing the line between friends and something more ever since the lightning, with long lingering touches and late night phone calls. When he gets there, Eddie has ordered them pizza, there's a case of beers on the coffee table, blankets on the couch, and a new sound system that looks like it could blow the windows out of the Sistine Chapel if given half a chance.

They have a really nice evening and Buck manages to ignore the way the clouds are churning outside, how the wind picks up and rain begins to splatter against the windowpanes. He's comfortable on the couch, with Eddie a warm line against his side from how closely they're pushed together. When the room lights up from the first strike of lightning, Buck jumps. He looks around wildly, just barely fighting the urge to clap his hands over his ears as the thunder booms. Eddie looks up from their movie, and turns up the sound on the TV until the thunder is inaudible. He places a hand on either one of Buck's shoulders and gently guides him down until he's settled against Eddie's chest. Eddie's arms wrap around Buck, holding him from behind and Buck can feel the fear slowly receeding.

"It's okay," Eddie whispers in his ear. "I've got you. You're safe."

The storm rages outside, but Buck doesn't panic. He's safe, in Eddie's arms, and though he might jump and his breathing might speed up every time there's a flash, Eddie strokes his arms and pets his hair and finally, almost nervously presses a kiss to Buck's forehead.

"Is- is this okay?" he asks Buck, so quietly that if it weren't for the fact that his lips were brushing Buck's ear, Buck wouldn't have heard it.

"Yeah," Buck replies, burrowing closer into Eddie's chest as his heart blooms with love, the warmth spreading down to his toes. "I'm safe."

[yoongiseesawmp3]

own my mind - san (m)

summary: part of the idol series. idol!san x producer!reader. san hates you, you're sure of it, and the feeling is pretty mutual. are these feelings true, or does he just need to spend some time getting to know you?

word count: 10.6k

warnings: smut. afab reader. oral (f and m receiving) unprotected sex w pull out method, don't do that. recording during sex, don't do that either.

masterlist

"so the practice rooms are down this hall," your new boss explains as he shows you around kq, "and over here are the boys' studios, but your's will be this way..."

you're trying to take it all in and simultaneously remember where all of the confusing hallways lead. kq may not look like much on the outside, but within it's basically a maze. you keep nodding and smiling as you follow your boss around, politely greeting anybody you encounter. he ends by bringing you into a conference room to finalize some paperwork, and after that you're on your own. you're officially the newest producer at kq, and...you have no idea what to do next.

you step out of the conference room and try your hardest to remember which direction leads back to the studios, but you also need coffee. you remember where the kitchen is, so you head that way as you text your friend jen. she recommended you for this job, and she promised she'd say hi on your first day. she's one of the make up artists for ateez, so she's always around, but her schedule is a little more frantic than yours. you understand if she doesn't answer right away, so you send the text and forget about it. you take a moment to yourself in the company kitchen as you try to figure out the coffee machine, letting your thoughts wander.

are you really cut out for this? it's your first day and you already feel overwhelmed. do they expect you to just go into your studio and start producing? what kind of tracks do they have planned for the next album? will the current producers even let you touch anything important, or will you have to prove yourself first? you're thinking about all this and more when someone bursts into the kitchen with a screech.

"Y/N!!!" jen yells as she scoops you into a hug. "you're here! it's finally happening!"

"this isn't very professional," you laugh as you hug her back. "you're helping me make a bad first impression."

"not possible, i've been talking about how great you are for months," she smiles. "they're gonna love you, seriously. i can't wait to hear what you make."

"what if i suck though?" you ask, but jen shakes her head.

"don't do that. no negativity on your first day."

"whatever."

"so what are you doing first?" she asks, taking the coffee you just brewed and having a sip for herself.

"dude, that was mine," you cry, and she hands it back to you with a half assed apology. "um, what am i doing first...well, i got confused on my welcome tour, so i guess i'll wander around until i figure out where my studio is."

"oh i can show you," jen brushes you off. "it's not that confusing, you just need to walk it all a few times. lots of doors, but you'll get the hang of it."

"do you want to make your own coffee, or can you show me around right now?" you ask as you finish doctoring up your mug.

"i can just have another sip of yours," she says as she reaches for it, but you hold it just out of reach as someone else walks in.

"hey jen," hongjoong greets her, his eyes falling to you next. "are you y/n? i've been summoned to help you get started."

"thank god," you sigh in relief. "i wasn't sure what to do, so i appreciate it. it's nice to meet you, finally."

"likewise," he smiles. "i'm a big fan of your work."

"really?" you feel yourself blush. "thank you. you were one of the reasons i started producing, so that means a lot."

"really?" now it's hongjoong's turn to blush. "well, that's...nice."

"great," jen claps her hands, easing over the awkward silence. "you can show y/n her studio and the two of you can keep gushing about how great you both are." she turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. "you're gonna do great things here. be nice to yourself. and uhhh, go team!"

"thanks jen," you laugh as you wave goodbye, following a respectable distance behind hongjoong. he looks back to make sure he hasn't lost you and motions for you to come closer.

"no need to be shy," he tells you. "we'll need to be pretty comfortable with each other considering how close we'll be working together."

"how often will i be working with you?"

"mmm, every day maybe?" he thinks about it. "in the beginning at least. you'll shadow me for a few days to see how the studios run, and then you'll sort of report to me with whatever you're working on. hopefully we won't get tired of each other."

"i don't think that'll be an issue," you assure him. you catch the tips of his ears turning red and you smile to yourself. "so, what makes a good producer here?"

you watch in admiration as hongjoong explains the creativity and collaboration that makes kq work so well, and you kick yourself for getting distracted again. you were supposed to be watching your surroundings, keeping an eye out for where to go to find your studio, but you can't help it. in this moment, it hits you: you get to make music with one of your favorite producers for one of your favorite artists. you must be dreaming, right?

if this is a dream, you're knocked out of it abruptly. while you were watching hongjoong, you weren't watching where you were going, and you walked right into the human equivalent of a brick wall. you spill your coffee everywhere, but don't worry, most of it lands on the most handsome man you've ever seen in your entire life. you're currently staring at choi san, singer of ateez and one of your new coworkers. he's looking down at you, a little bit of shock in his eyes, and you rush to correct the situation.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry," you apologize. you look to hongjoong for help and he's running off to find napkins, leaving you with a very buff man in a soaking wet white t shirt. "i am so so sorry, really, here, let me try to-"

"don't worry about it," san takes a step back. he starts to walk away, but you follow behind him.

"at least let me-"

"i said don't worry about it," he tries again, his tone calm but his eyes tell a different story. he's glaring down at you, which makes your blood boil. he has a right to be mad at you for spilling coffee on him, but why's he pissed at you for trying to help clean him up?

"sure, go drip coffee all down the hallway then," you grumble as you brush past him. "i'll tell hongjoong to follow the trail when he comes back with your napkins."

"fine," san sighs, stopping where he stands. he throws his hands up and asks, "happy?"

"sure."

"who are you anyway?" he mumbles to himself, looking you up and down. you feel his eyes linger, and it makes goosebumps rise over your skin. you take that as a further sign that this guy is getting on your nerves.

"i'm y/n, i'm the new producer," you answer. "nice to meet you."

"you spill coffee on all of your coworkers, y/n?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"i said i was sorry-"

"here's hongjoong," san cuts you off. he reaches out for the napkins and smiles at his bandmate. "thanks man."

"so you've met y/n," hongjoong chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "she's really great, we're lucky to have her on the team." san doesn't reply, just nods and sends you a tightlipped smile as he dabs at his ruined t shirt. the fabric is basically translucent now, showing san's tan skin below and the definition of every single muscle. hongjoong clocks the way your eyes are trailing over san's torso and he clears his throat. "um, should we continue our tour?"

"yeah, sorry," you gesture for him to lead the way, and you hold san's gaze as you walk away. he's a dick, you think. that'll be fun.

-

"so is san always an asshole?" you yell over the loud music to jen as you follow her to a table. she insisted on taking you out for drinks to celebrate your first day, and after the morning you had, you need this.

"is he what?!" she shouts back.

"an asshole!"

"san?" she looks at you bewildered. "he's a sweetheart!"

"are we talking about the same guy?"

"are we?" jen questions as she finally pulls you to a table in the back. it's a little quieter back here, so you don't have to shout, but the music will still drown out your conversation so no one can eavesdrop. once you're both settled, she takes a sip of her drink and then, "spill."

"nothing to spill, i just think san is mean and i hate him," you say simply. "i spilled coffee on him, totally an accident, but he was a huge dick about it. wouldn't let me help him, didn't really introduce himself...it all felt off."

"to be fair, i would've been pissed if you had spilled coffee on me when we met," jen points out.

"yeah, but you would've been nicer in the aftermath," you shake your head. "it's whatever. i hopefully won't have to work that closely with him."

"and what about hongjoong?" jen wiggles her eyebrows. "i hear you two hit it off."

"he's nice," you smile shyly. "made my first day a lot easier. he was really patient with all my questions, which helped ease my nerves."

"he's really good at that," jen nods. she goes into a story about her first meeting with hongjoong, and it makes you laugh and endears you to the man more. she tells you stories of the other members, none of whom you met today, but now you're excited to get to know them. "they're all really nice, especially san and yunho. i feel like they're the ones that always check up on everybody-"

"san?"

"yes, your mortal enemy," she rolls her eyes. "he's a good guy, i promise. you just need to make up for the coffee thing and i think you'll be on his good side."

"i'll think about that," you mumble, taking a sip of your drink that almost drains the glass. "so who's this guy you're seeing?"

"whoa, looks like you need another one!" jen deflects. she grabs your glass and runs off to the bar to get another round, leaving you to sit and stew on your own. if san was such a nice guy, why was he only rude to you? it sounds like he isn't mean to other newbies, so it can't be some kind of hazing. whatever dislike he holds for you is personal, and that's making you even angrier. when jen comes back with your new drink she says, "you look mad. what did i miss?"

"can you find out why san hates me?" you ask, and you swear jen would punch you if she could reach across the table.

"he doesn't hate you!! you just made a bad impression! stop making him a villain," she begs you. "man, you're so obsessed with him. maybe someone has a crush?"

"please," you scoff. "just because he has muscles doesn't make up for his shit personality."

"so you like his muscles," jen smirks. "tell him that tomorrow, it'll boost his ego."

"i'm not listening to you anymore."

"but i have so much knowledge to share!" she whines, and you let jen tell you all the do's and don'ts of working at kq as the night goes on. maybe you'll take her advice and try to patch things up with san in the morning. could be worth a shot, right?

-

the next day, you're in one of the bigger studios to help hongjoong with a vocal arrangement. since the last album did so well with the unit songs, you and hongjoong wanted to experiment a little further. you excitedly told hongjoong about your hopes to compose and produce a harmony heavy vocal track, and he was all for it. you worked on the music for it last night, bringing about half of the song to hongjoong for you to play around with today. you both agreed it'd be good to have a guide version ready before you share it with the entire vocal line, so seonghwa offered to help out, too. he's in the booth now as you and hongjoong instruct him from your seats behind the soundboard. he finishes the final layer for the first harmony, and you wait as hongjoong lines it all up. he plays the snippet for you and seonghwa, and you notice both boys are waiting for your reaction.

"that was great, seonghwa," you encourage him. "i really liked it, but..."

"don't be shy," hongjoong nudges you, "he can take it."

"i can," seonghwa agrees. "give it to me straight. did it suck?"

"no, it was really beautiful actually," you assure him. "but for the melody, could you make it more...monotone? that might sound weird, but we're trying to play with the high and low harmony like they're the angel and devil sitting on your shoulder, and for those to stand out the melody needs to be less...captivating."

"you hear that? she thinks your voice is captivating," hongjoong smiles to seonghwa, and he beams at you.

"i get that," he nods. "can i try it another way?"

you help hongjoong reset, and then seonghwa tries another layer in a sadder voice. it's just as powerful, but will be the perfect conduit for the story you're trying to tell. when he finishes, they look to you again and find you smiling proudly.

"that was it," you nod. "great job."

"thanks boss," seonghwa says as he steps out of the booth. "who do you want me to bring in next?"

"you can call san, we'll get him to do the high part and then-"

"san?" you look at hongjoong. "i thought seonghwa was doing the guide vocals."

"well, usually we could do with just one voice, but this song would work best with three distinct voices," hongjoong explains. "i don't think the guys would get it if it's harder to distinguish the different levels, you know?"

"right," you agree, just a little dejected.

"so..." seonghwa trails off. "should i go get him?"

"yeah, tell him to meet us here in ten," hongjoong tells him. seonghwa says his goodbyes and then hoongjoong turns to you. "you alright?"

"i'm good," you reply. "feel a little in over my head, but good."

"you're doing great," hongjoong says, placing his hand over yours on the desk. "it's a lot to jump into, and i'm sorry if it seemed like i was-"

"no, i needed the insight-"

"because i value your opinion-"

"i know that-"

"and-" hongjoong is cut off from finishing his thought because the studio door opens to reveal san. he's wearing another skin tight t shirt, black this time, so even if you spilled another coffee on him it would be harder to notice. he's paired it with a beanie and baggy black pants, and if what you're seeing is correct, he's not wearing any underwear. he stands there staring at you both before his eyes fall to your hand still beneath hongjoong's, and the two of you separate like you've just been shocked.

"i'm not interrupting anything, am i?" san asks suspiciously, and you viciously shake your head as hongjoong tells san to get into the booth. he explains the idea to san and queues up seonghwa's melody as san struggles to put the headphones on over his hat, so you lean into the mic and suggest, "try taking the hat off, maybe?"

"thanks, big help," he says sarcastically. he listens anyway, tossing his beanie away like he's mad at it. "so what am i doing? copying hwa?"

"no," you say sternly. "you're singing the high harmony. we'll layer it over seonghwa's vocals, but your voice needs to be distinct. you can practice if you want-"

"i don't need to practice," san cuts you off, staring daggers at you. "just play it." he keeps his eyes on you as he listens, and you feel nervous. he's listening to your song, your lyrics, and you think you see the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes as seonghwa's voice fades. he doesn't comment on it, just continues staring at you and says, "yeah, got it. you can record this."

"let's listen to it first, and then record the next one," you tell hongjoong, and he nods in agreement. you watch san get ready, and then you hear the most beautiful falsetto flowing over your track. it makes you emotional, and it's another instance of the coolness of your job hitting you. you're so mesmerized you miss san finishing on a bit of a creative note, so the boys are staring, waiting for your input.

"y/n?" hongjoong calls your name. "what'd you think?"

"that was," you clear your throat, "that was perfect, san."

"great," he nods, taking the headphones off, but you stop him.

"ah, we need to record it," you remind him, and you catch his groan through the mic.

"i thought i said to record that one?"

"you don't decide that," you reply, and hongjoong tries to diffuse.

"she has a specific vision for the song, so we wanted to hear you first and then decide if there were any notes before we record you."

"what's the vision?" san asks you, and he listens intently as you explain. when you're done, he takes a deep breath and says clearly into the mic, "that sounds stupid. but i'll do it again. make sure you're recording this time."

"whatever you say, asshole," you mumble, angrily getting the track ready for his bratty voice. you wish you could stay mad at him, but as soon as he starts to sing you're enchanted. again, you get distracted by his voice, the emotion in it and all over his face as he sings, and you think, if he says your idea was stupid, why was he putting so much heart into just a guide vocal? he finishes and you thank him, saving the track quickly before you turn to hongjoong and inform him you need a water break. he's left in the studio with san as he saunters out, but hongjoong meets him at the door.

"what's your problem?" he barks, livid at the way san was treating you during that session.

"uh, you're blocking my exit?" he asks, but that was the wrong thing to say. hongjoong dives into a lecture about respect, and san has to laugh. "oh, you want me to respect the girl who spilled coffee all over me yesterday? who thinks, on her second day, she can tell me how to do my job?"

"she's a producer, her job is to literally tell you what to do-"

"well i'm sorry i hurt your girlfriend's feelings," san spits. "but i did what you asked me to do, so please let me leave." hongjoong steps to the side, still fuming, and san walks out. you catch him in the hall as you return, and you want to stop him, to tell him how great he sounded, but when you lift your hand in greeting he turns the other way and disappears.

-

you get a break from work later that day and find jen making a coffee. she sees you coming and has a cup ready for you to make your own, and you catch up on your days as your coffee brews. you tell her about san's lovely time with you in the studio, and jen listens, but when you finish she asks, "and he was still like this after you said you liked his muscles?"

"i'm not telling him that," you mumble.

"telling who what?" wooyoung asks as he pops around the corner.

"mind your business?" jen replies. "have you met y/n yet? she's the new producer."

"no, but i've heard mixed reviews," wooyoung says as he dramatically shakes your hand. "can't wait to decide which side i'm on."

"there's sides?" you ask nervously.

"yep," he says with a pop on the p. "hongjoong and seonghwa worship the ground you walk on. san hates your guts, although i'm not sure why. you seem lovely."

"she is lovely," jen points out.

"hm," wooyoung squints playfully. "guess we'll have to wait and see."

"what about innocent until proven guilty?" you ask. "just assume you'll like me and then you will!"

"yeah, but san is a good judge of character," wooyoung shakes his head. "if he doesn't like you, then he's got a reason."

"is the reason because he's maleficent?"

"oo, maleficent, i like that," wooyoung coos. he turns to jen and asks, "why don't you use big words like that?"

"i'm afraid you wouldn't get them," she sighs.

"try me, i'm full of surprises baby," he winks at her before smacking her ass and walking away. you watch in confusion, and she waves it off.

"don't worry, he does that sometimes."

"to everybody?!"

"just to me," she shrugs, and then it clicks.

"he's your fling," you smile. "very nice."

"nuh uh."

"no, he totally is. that's elmo," you piece it together. "is that his nickname because of his laugh?"

"you were never supposed to meet him," jen defends herself.

"so getting me a job here wouldn't interfere with that?"

"i figured i could keep it a secret," she pouts.

"you did! for a whopping 36 hours, good job!"

"don't patronize me," she complains. "i could call san and have him here in seconds-"

"oh man, i need to go record something," you frown, "maybe you two could talk though? figure out why he's got an all burning hatred for me, an angel?"

"i'll get to the bottom of it," jen says, and you realize the error you've just made.

"wait, no, don't talk to him, please," you beg.

"too late, you've asked for my help, so i'll help," jen concedes easily. "he'll either love you or simply tolerate you by the end of the week, i promise."

"great, thanks..."

-

you've made it through your first week, yippee! you really like it here, you fit in well with the members, and the producers seem to really like your ideas. the only problem is san. you enter a room that he's in and it goes quiet. he passes you in the hall, and you're fuming for the rest of the day. everyone knows about your little rivalry at this point, but no one understands where it came from. even jen, who was determined to make you and san best friends, has lost hope.

you're able to make it a couple days without any more san run ins, and for that you are grateful. you and hongjoong have made a lot of progress on the vocal line track, and he's invited you to a few writing sessions with mingi for the rap line track. you're feeling invincible after one of those sessions, walking back to your studio, when you get the scare of your life. you enter the code to your studio, guard completely down, and jump out of your skin when you see someone sitting at your desk.

"what the fuck?!" you shriek, using the door as a shield. you peek around it and see that it's not an intruder. well, at least not one that wants to hurt you. maybe. it's san, so this interaction could go in any direction.

"hello," he says simply. "nice way to greet your guest."

"how'd you get into my studio?" you ask as you close the door. you wonder if you should keep it cracked open, just in case you and san get into it and you need a witness that he probably started it.

"i needed to ask you a question," san responds instead, and you cock your head in confusion. "i can't do that?"

"i don't know, can you?"

"your song. the vocal one. how's it going?"

you're surprised this is what he wanted to talk about but, honestly, what else were you expecting? this is a normal work interaction, you think. you're just not used to having those with san. since san is sitting in your desk chair, you pull your stool over to the desk pathetically and perch on top of it as you shoot san a glare.

"can you move over? i need to get to my keyboard."

"aw, can't reach over my muscles?" san teases, and you feel your blood run cold.

"what?"

"my muscles? little birdie told me you liked them."

"what are you doing in my studio, san."

"i wanted to hear your song," he shrugs. you wait for him to move out of the way, but apparently that's not happening. you grumble as you lean over him and type, pulling the project file up on your screen. you check the volume before you hit play and look back to see san watching you intently. he's close, your arms brushing and his head only a few inches from yours. you hold his gaze for a second and then hit play, sitting back as you watch him listen. you can't read his expression as the song plays, but you don't care what he has to say. you love this song, and you think it's turning out great. whatever he has to say isn't important to you-

"wow," he whistles. "i get it now."

"get what?"

"why you're so pretentious about your work," san smirks as he side eyes you.

"is that supposed to be an insult?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.

"not really," he shakes his head.

"well it's not a compliment," you tell him.

"i'll work on that," he says as he stands. he puts his hands on your desk to support himself as he rises, and you swear to god, he's flexing his arms a ridiculous amount. nobody needs that much upper body strength just to get out of a rolley chair.

"hey!" you call as he walks away. "what the hell?"

"do you have to curse all the time?" san asks with look of distaste. "it's not very polite."

"nor are you."

"nice," he nods. "well, i'll be around-"

"no, wait, why'd you come in here?" you ask as you follow him out of your studio. "you just wanted to listen to the song?"

"yeah?" he shrugs, turning to face you in the hallway. he's standing so close you have to lean back to look at him properly, and you frown.

"i don't believe you."

"why not?" san smirks. "you wanted me in your studio for another reason?"

"no-"

"you're not the only one who likes to stare, doll," he says quietly, leaning down so his ears are just barely brushing your ear. he straightens back up before you can melt into a puddle on the floor, and then he smiles what might be his first genuine smile in your presence. "so maybe i didn't just come here for the song. but now i've heard it, and i know don't hate it, so i think we're done here."

and with that very confusing information, san walks away.

-

san is tired. he's been practicing for their seoul concert since the early hours of the morning, and he needs a break. it's almost an acceptable time to eat lunch, so he grabs his things and starts the short walk to his favorite convenience store. he likes this one because it's got a seating area in the back where he can eat, giving him some time to himself. it's secluded enough he doesn't have to worry about being bothered, but it has a good view of the street outside so he can people watch. it's the perfect spot for him to rest and enjoy his food, so he leaves the company with a pep in his step.

he grabs all of his favorites, moving on autopilot, and pays for them quickly. he takes everything back to his usual table and prepares his feast. now that he's stopped working, he feels the tiredness in his bones and realizes how hungry he actually was. when did he eat last? was it dinner? that was more than twelve hours ago, so maybe he can get away with eating another ramen before he goes...

san is considering whether or not he should get up and grab more food as he stares through the store window. there's people rushing to work, couples going to lunch, families wrangling kids. he watches with a smile as one family, a mother and father, try to handle what looks like a girl and two twins. that job is way harder than anything he's doing as an idol, he thinks. he watches fondly as they walk away, and when he turns back, his smile falls.

you and hongjoong are crossing the street, engaged in some conversation that's making you both laugh. you make a joke that sends a laugh crashing up from within hongjoong's chest, and san scoffs as he watches you stare in admiration. hongjoong rushes forward and opens the door to the convenience store for you, and san hears the end of your sentence as you enter.

"-didn't have to do that," san catches, and he hears hongjoong make a dismissive sound in response. "wow, there's a lot of food here."

"you see why we like this place so much," hongjoong responds. san can't see you, but your voices are getting closer. "there's something for everyone."

"there's so much, i don't know what to pick..." you trail off.

"get whatever you want," hongjoong says. "it's on me."

"what? no-"

"ah ah, no arguments. consider it a welcome gift."

"well thank you," san hears you squeak, and he can just imagine the way you must be blushing, looking at hongjoong so shyly, pretending to be coy-

"oh, hey san," hongjoong greets. you come to a stop behind him, bumping into his back, and san has to laugh. "didn't know you were here."

"didn't tell anyone i was leaving," san shrugs. he leans over, trying to catch your eye, and waves. "hi y/n."

"hi san."

"are you eating here?" san asks, and hongjoong shakes his head.

"ah, no, we were just taking a break," he replies. "i was going to buy us lunch and then we're gonna head back."

"got it," san nods, still looking at you. "carry on then."

"thanks for your permission," you mumble, holding onto the back of hongjoong's shirt as he turns you down another aisle. he starts looking for a snack he wants you try, but he can't see it. he looks up, eyes flitting around the store, and his face lights up.

"oh! it's over there! be right back!" he runs off, and you continue scanning the shelves. you're not that hungry, but you know you won't have time to leave again, so you need to get enough food for lunch and dinner probably. you're reading the ingredients on one of the prepackaged meals when you feel a presence behind you. turning, you see san looming above, and you jump.

"shit," you hiss. "wear a bell."

"need help pronouncing the big words?" he asks.

"yeah, come closer and let me show you."

"you having fun?" san sneers, and your confused expression makes him clarify, "with your boyfriend."

"what?"

"oh come on, letting him buy your lunch, holding onto him like that...you're eating it up, aren't you?"

"i don't know what you mean," you say as you step around san, but your face is red. he's getting to you.

"it's cute, really," he says, beating you to the end of the aisle. he puts his arm out, effectively blocking your way, and he continues staring down at you in that frustrating way of his. like he wants to swallow you whole. "how long do you think it'll last?"

"if you're asking about my patience i'm afraid that ship sailed a while ago," you try to fight back, but san just laughs.

"you're cute, you know? you try to be so tough, but it doesn't work. i see right through you."

"and what do you see?" you ask as you cross your arms. san bares his teeth, ready to quip back, but his eyes catch on something behind you. you look over your shoulder and see hongjoong holding up a bag, a confused look in his eyes.

"found the sweet potatoes," he says as he approaches. "what are you doing?"

"getting to know our coworker," san says nonchalantly, removing himself from your personal space. "i'll let you go. my food's getting cold."

"sure," hongjoong says skeptically, reaching for you. he tries to guide you away with his hand at your back, but you can feel san's eyes still on you. you turn and his hand politely falls away, but san's eyes follow you through the rest of the store. he gets an idea when you go back to the drink coolers, so san finishes his food quickly and heads to the front.

when you and hongjoong are finally ready to pay, you go to the register and hongjoong reaches for his wallet. the woman behind the counter shakes her head, showing a stack of bills to tell you it's been taken care of. you look around and find san halfway out the door, a wicked smile on his face. he waves at you teasingly before the door dings closed, and hongoong happily takes the food, babbling about how nice san is as you leave.

-

later that day, the boys are getting fitted for their tour outfits. each practice room has been converted into a walk in closet + vanity combo, so you peek your head in to see how it's going. jen spots you and waves you over to her station, and you duck through the racks of clothes to say hi to your friend. you're taken aback when you see who she's working on, but jen laughs and assures you it's ok.

"he won't bite, he's asleep," she says about the pouting san she's working on currently. "he was here all night, apparently. he knocked out before i could even say hi."

"are you sure he's asleep and not faking it?" you ask as you tentatively sit in the chair next to him. it's enough distance away that you're not concerned by the proximity, but you keep an eye on him as you talk. "maybe he doesn't want to talk."

"hey, san likes me, so i know he's not faking it," jen tells you. "he and i get along really well."

"congratulations," you mumble as you reach for a makeup brush to play with. "so how was your day?"

you and jen catch up as she works on san, periodically asking for your opinion on the look she's created for him. you know she's trying to get you to say something nice about him, to slip up and call him handsome or sexy, but you won't budge. all the compliments you give are very makeup forward, but she won't let up. she's also not being gentle in her application, so you really are afraid san is awake and listening. she's almost done with him when wooyoung walks up, greeting you happily.

"hey y/n!" he chirps. "nice to see you! you're in my seat."

"oh, my bad," you scramble to get up. you got comfortable, your feet propped on one of the giant makeup cases before you. jen puts a hand out to stop you, turning to wooyoung with a trying-to-be-stern look in her eyes.

"my friend and i are not done talking."

"well your boss told me to come over here and get my makeup done, so unless you want me to stand..." wooyoung trails off as jen finishes with san's face. she turns to him and nods.

"standing is fine," she says, quickly getting to work on wooyoung's base layer. "i'll work fast so you don't have to stand long."

"but then i don't get to bug you as long," wooyoung whines.

"life's cruel like that, huh?"

"come on, i know i'm your favorite part of this job," wooyoung teases, and you share a silent laugh with him as jen blushes profusely. once wooyoung catches your eye, his attention turns to you, and he asks, "what about you, y/n? now that you've been here a few days, what's your favorite part of this job?"

"san's abs," jen answers for you, and you try your best to kick her. you accidentally nudge san's chair and freeze, but he doesn't stir.

"oh yeah? let's tell him-"

"no!" you shout, and if he wasn't awake now he definitely is. he still doesn't move, but you continue in a softer voice, "um, no. don't do that. uhh, my favorite part of the job...i don't wanna be a kiss ass, but it's probably working with hongjoong."

"of course it is," san mumbles, and even though he spoke quietly it makes you jump. he opens his eyes and your skin sets fire as soon as he looks at you. "you're in wooyoung's chair."

"he's having jen time," you counter. "let him enjoy it."

"yeah, let me enjoy it!" wooyoung agrees.

"san, what do you think of the eye makeup i did? tried something new," jen says as she focuses on wooyoung's eyes now. san sits up and looks in the mirror, but he's not looking at himself. he's watching you pretend like a strand on your sweater is the most interesting thing in the world, so he decides to call your attention.

"y/n? what do you think?" san asks, and you meet his gaze through the mirror. you're shocked to realize he's checking you out, blatantly, your cardigan falling off your shoulder to reveal your bra underneath. you were in a rush this morning and thought that would be enough. surely no one would notice you weren't wearing a tank, since this bra could pass as long as your sweater stayed up. but right now it's not, so san can see an entire cup, and he's almost drooling. instead of answering his question you look over at jen and repeat your earlier compliments as you pull your sweater tight around your torso.

"yeah, it looks good," you say again. "now that he's awake and you can see his eyes, you did a good job, uh, highlighting them."

"eloquent," san chides, and this time you intentionally kick his chair. he grabs your ankle before you can pull back, and tugs, bringing you closer.

"big word," wooyoung whispers, and you can hear jen smack him as you lift your eyes to san's. he's looking at you with that hungry gaze you're coming to get used to, and he rewords his question.

"what do you like about it specifically?" he tries as he leans in, and you hold your breath as you stare. this is closer than you've ever been, and you can smell hints of cologne that have your head spinning. alarms are going off in your head to run, but with san's hand still on your leg, you're trapped.

"you drool in your sleep, you know that?" you decide to say, ignoring his question completely. he's surprised enough that his grip on you loosens and you're able to bolt from the chair, grabbing your things as you say a quick goodbye to jen and wooyoung. they're watching on, amused with your little show, and when you're fully out of the room san collapses back into the chair with a groan.

"she's right," jen says. "i had to get napkins to mop up your spit."

"sorry," san grumbles.

"when are you gonna tell her?" wooyoung asks, and san makes a confused sound to encourage him to explain. "y/n. when are you gonna say that you're into her?"

"i'm not into her," san rolls his eyes.

"yeah, right," wooyoung laughs. "and me and jen aren't fucking."

"hey!" and another smack. they continue bickering as san stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes falling to the chair you just occupied.

-

the next few days, you spend a lot of time in your studio. too much maybe, but you need to get this vocal track finished. all the boys have recorded their parts, and now it's down to you to get the final mix to the other producers by monday. it's friday now, and you know you can't pull any all nighters this weekend - the boys want you to come to their shows, so you'd like to be finished with the track before you leave today.

it's weird, being here so late at night. you think you're the last one left, hongjoong left with the rest of the members and the producers started trickling out about two hours ago. you don't mind being here on your own, you know the security is fine, but it's still eerie. when you got another coffee just now, you caught yourself jumping at the slightest sounds. you could've sworn you heard footsteps following you, but after investigating you realized it was the sound of your own that scared you. you hunker down for another spell in your studio, and you get a lot closer to the product you want. hongjoong kept telling you it didn't need to be perfect, it still had to go through critiques so it would probably change a lot, but you can't let your first project here be a mess. it at least needs to meet your standards, so you keep working.

you're not sure how much later it is, but you wake yourself when your head falls off your propped up arm. you fell asleep listening to the final track, wanting to check for any mistakes, so you don't know how long it's been looping while you slept. you listen through one last time, almost satisfied, but you hear something that sounds off. you try another listen, and realize it's not coming from your speakers, it's coming from somewhere else.

heart racing, you press your ear to the door of your studio and curse the sound proofing. you can make out a noise, but not enough to figure out what it is from the safety of this room. you look around for a weapon, something to protect you, and all you see are stray wires. you find one long enough and wrap it around your fists, pulling the wire taught between them. worst case scenario you garrote the intruder and then call for help, but you're being dramatic. whatever is out there can't be a threat, can it?

you open your studio door and follow the sound. in your tired state, you recognize a song, but you can't place it or where it's coming from. you tiptoe down the hall toward the practice rooms, and spy light coming from a door at the end of the hall. so it must be one of the members, you think. or maybe the bb trippin guys came early to prep for the show. whatever it is, you keep walking, aware now that the song you heard is wake up, one of your favorites. the boys were cryptic about the setlist, wanting it to be a surprise for you this weekend, but you get excited at the thought of what kind of mystical performance they could do for this song. when you reach the door, you stop cold, seeing maybe the last person you expected it to be.

san is dancing, quite sexually, to the music bumping through the speakers. he's in baggy sweats and a tank top that shows off his figure and his ridiculously chiseled muscles, and you can't help it. you stare, watching in awe as he drops it low and grinds around to a song you never expected to be portrayed like this. as he's on the ground, a tie hanging from his teeth, his eyes flick to yours through the mirror. you gasp, and he smirks, somehow able to catch the sound of your breath hitching over the loud music. he feels proud of himself, knowing he's got you so shocked, but when he finishes the portion he's working on, he looks to the mirror and you're gone.

you're rushing down the hall back to your studio. what the fuck was that. you had a physical reaction to san, and not a good one. and he saw you! that's humiliating, you'll never be able to look at him again-

"where ya goin doll?" his deep voice asks. he's right behind you, and before you can sprint off to your studio, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the nearest door. when you come face to face, he's breathing heavy, and you assume that's because of the intense choreography he just worked through. little do you know, being this close to you, smelling that annoying perfume that follows you around, touching you, all of this is taking his breath away. his hands trail down your shoulders to your hands, and he looks at you quizzically when he finds the wire wrapped tightly in your fists. "what's this?"

"i, uh, i thought i was the only one here? so when i heard something i looked for uh. i wanted something to protect myself with," you explain, embarrassed by how dramatic that sounds.

"you're a badass," san chuckles, lifting your hands by the wire hanging between them.

"i thought cursing wasn't polite," you remind him of his own words, and he laughs again.

"i just said that to piss you off."

"you're insufferable," you groan, trying to twist away from the man in front of you.

"and you're in a bit of a pickle, aren't you?" he smiles at you evilly. "can't get away, little kitten?"

"let go of me, san," you say steadily, but he just keeps smiling.

"why would i? i've finally got you right where i want you."

"what?" you breathe out.

"you couldn't tell? i've wanted you since i laid eyes on you."

"wanted me?" you scoff. "i'm not a steak."

"but you went and spilled that coffee on me, and then you were so delightful during our recording session, i just kept falling harder and harder for you," he teases.

"you're shit at showing how you feel."

"and you're shit at hiding how you feel," he smirks. "i know you want me, doll. that's why i acted the way i did. it was fun messing with you, letting you think i hated you. wanted to see how far i could push it."

"that's so middle school of you san," you complain, pushing your finger into his chest. "if you were a real man you would've done something about this already instead of playing a bunch of games."

"if i was a real man?" he chuckles lowly, and he's so close you feel it in your stomach. "baby, you haven't been with a real man til you've been with me."

"prove it," you whisper, but your breath gets caught as san pulls your hands above your head by the wire still wrapped around them. he holds your wrists in place as his other hand squeezes your waist, and he watches you squirm with glee in his eyes.

"prove it? you sure you can handle me doll?"

"do your your worst," you smirk, and then he's crashing his lips to yours. the kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue, and you gasp as his hand travels up your waist and beneath your shirt. he traces the skin beneath your hoodie, smirking into your lips when he discovers you're not wearing a bra.

"i like it when you make things easy for me," he breathes out against your neck, his lips making their way across your skin and leaving little marks as he pleases. his hand beneath your shirt traces beneath each breast before leaving a featherlight trail to your nipple, and he surprises you with a quick pinch. you gasp again, giving him a chance to return his lips to your mouth and press his tongue past your lips. he kisses you one last time before pulling from your lips, asking, "should we take this inside?"

"wha?" you murmur, twisting to look at the door behind you. "but, san, this isn't my studio-"

"i know, it's hongjoong's," he says as he punches the code in. "he won't mind."

"i do!" you squeak out as san opens the door and pushes you inside. "san, seriously, we're not having sex in here!"

"we're having sex?" san teases, and you use your newly released hands to beat against his chest. "take that stupid wire off, baby. you're gonna need your hands."

"for what?" you grumble, listening to him anyway. when your hands are free, you notice the little indents left from the wire, and san surprises you by taking your hands into his softly. his thumb rubs over the raw skin, and he stares darkly at you as he lifts your hands to his lips. he kisses over the sore spots and up your wrists, whining cutely when he hits the fabric of your shirt.

"take this off," he tugs on your sleeve, and you shake your head.

"only if you take your shirt off too," you counter, and he easily lets go of you to remove his tank top. you hate the way you're staring, but you can't help it. he's beautiful, and you're mesmerized. he calls your name, the first time he's said it all night, and you find his eyes staring at you softly. "right, sorry," you mumble, pulling your hoodie off, not so accidentally catching it on your tits so they release with a bounce. san groans as he watches on, and then his hands are on you again, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. you moan softly, reaching for his head to pull him into another kiss. your hands wrap around to his neck, one sweeping down to feel his soft, sweaty skin. you trace over the muscles in his chest, the lines of his abs, and end at his waistband. his hand reaches down to stop you before you can continue, and he pulls back to ask, "do you trust me?"

"do i trust you? not completely," you answer honestly. "maybe you don't hate me as much as you made me believe, but i still think you're despicable."

"if i'm so despicable why are you letting me use you like a toy?" he jokes, pushing you down into hongjoong's desk chair. "if you trust me, i want you to do something for me. if you don't, tell me to shut up, and we'll go back to having sex. but it'll be more boring that way."

"can i get that in writing, you saying that sex with you is boring?" you tease, and san growls as he captures your lips in another kiss. he's caging you in, and when he releases your lips, he leans his forehead against yours as he speaks.

"start a new file on his computer," san says lowly. "and hit record when i say."

"you're kidding."

"like i said, do it if you trust me," he shrugs, his hands moving from the armrests to your waist. he starts tugging your pants down as he continues. "if you don't trust me, then we just fuck like normal and go on with our lives."

"san, i-"

"are you gonna make the file?" he asks, kneeling in front of you. you open and close your mouth like a fish, but then you're moving without thinking. you twist in his hold, punching in hongjoong's password and finding the mixing app. you start a new project, label it inconspicuously, and then settle back in the chair. san is looking at you proudly, and he praises you, "good girl."

"what now?" you ask quietly, and san separates your legs further. he starts kissing up your leg, starting at your knee, and when he gets to your panties, he whispers, "i make you come."

he pulls yours panties down then, hissing as he watches your arousal cling to the fabric, and he smiles. "oh, she's pretty."

"i didn't know you were capable of giving me a compliment," you quip, and san bites your thigh to shut you up.

"wasn't talking to you," he says against your skin, leaving kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your core. he brings his hands up to spread you open for him, and he stares in admiration at how wet you are, just for him. he leans in and you wait to feel his lips, his tongue, something, but instead you feel something wet land on your clit. san spit on your pussy, and he brings his hand up to rub the sensitive spot as he blows on your entrance.

"i thought you said you were gonna make me come," you whine, and he nods.

"i will. when i want to."

"san-" you whimper, lifting your hips as he continues playing with your clit and neglecting the rest of you.

"you want more doll?" he asks, his eyes staring at you darkly. you look down at him and nod, but he pinches your thigh in response. "words, baby."

"want more, san," you groan. "need your tongue."

"hit record and i'll give you what you want," he smirks below you, and you're so horny you can't even think about fighting back. you turn around and press record, san's lips finding your clit immediately. he licks over the bundle of nerves, prodding a finger at your entrance as he listens to your sweet moans. he fucks his finger into you once, twice, then adds another. you whine above him, your hands catching on his hair as you try to push him closer. he licks up every drop of you, fucking you on his fingers, and moans into your pussy for good measure. the vibration seends you reeling, and you whisper out, "fuck, san."

"who?"

"san, fuck! feels so good."

"yeah? you wanna come?" he asks, leaning his head on your thigh as he stares at you writhing above him. you're watching him with hooded eyes as he adds another finger, fucking you open for him. you lift your hips again, trying to make him move faster. "d'you still hate me, doll?"

"no," you whisper shyly, and he smiles.

"say it louder."

"i don't hate you," you moan out, his fingers scissoring you open as his lips return to your clit. he sucks harshly, and you let out a whine that turns into a frustrated scream. "faster."

"hm?"

"faster, please," you beg, "please, please, fuck. 'm gonna come."

"let me hear you, baby," he mumbles into your core. "who's making you feel so good?"

"san, you, fuck-" your voice tapers off as you hold your breath and crash into your release. you're clenching around san so deliciously, he groans into your clit and does his best to help you ride out your high. you're trying to catch your breath as. san cleans you up, slurping obscenely, and in your post-nut clarity you realize what you've done. you turn around, frantically trying to stop the recording, but san stands above you and catches your hands again.

"what are you doing?" he growls, and you blubber out a response.

"he can't, we can't, i have to delete it, i'm not-"

"not what? not enjoying yourself?" san asks. "because i'm looking at a dripping pussy that tells a different story."

"we need to go somewhere else," you hiss, and san shakes his head.

"i think we're doing fine right here," he smirks, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. you bite his bottom lip as he tries to pull away, and he groans.

"is it my turn now?" you ask, and you watch fire spark across san's eyes.

"your turn to what, baby?"

"drive you insane?" you ask innocently, pushing san away so you can stand. you keep pushing him until he hits the wall, and you drop to your knees. you waste no time pulling his pants down, revealing his lack of underwear. you look up at him and ask, "you makin things easy for me, babe?"

"no," he smirks down at you. "bet you can't even fit it in your mouth."

"you're full of yourself," you point out as you spit into your hand. you bring it to his cock, stroking over his soft skin. "you liked eating me out this much?"

"it wasn't bad," san nods. "wouldn't mind doing it again."

"maybe later," you mumble, bringing his tip to your lips. you spit again, watching as it dribbles down his shaft, you stroke him a few more times, flicking your tongue over his tip teasingly. he's trying so hard not to lose it above you, and the way he's biting his lip to keep quiet pisses you off. without warning, you swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you try to fit him all in your mouth. he cries out above you, his hands tangling in your hair. he pulls you off of him completely, gasping for breath above you. "hey. i wasn't done."

"not gonna last," he says shyly, and you feel your ego grow ten sizes. "need to fuck you."

"eh, i'm getting tired-"

"shut up," he growls, pulling you up by your hair and slamming his lips into yours again. "go bend over his desk."

"you're sick," you tell him, obeying anyway.

"you're into it," san says cockily, adjusting your hips as he comes up behind you. "make sure you're right up to the mic, doll. wanna hear this." you hate yourself for it, but you find the mic in front of you and pull it closer. you feel his hands on your ass, pulling you apart as he stares at your pussy again. "so pretty for me," he sighs, removing a hand to bring his cock to your entrance. he teases your hole a few times, laughing when you jerk back and try to catch his tip. "impatient girl."

"just fuck me," you say clearly, and he responds by giving you exactly what you want. he thrusts into you, splitting you open, and you moan so loud it's embarrassing. san stays still, giving you a minute to adjust, but you start fucking back into him, and he gets the hint. he grabs onto your ass again, and then he's fucking into with no control. your mouth hangs open as he fucks you hard and fast, and san frowns. he smacks your ass and feels you clench around him as he barks, "lemme hear you." so you moan, and whine, and altogether let go. you're a babbling mess, mumbling incoherently about how good it feels, how he fucks you just right, how his cock is perfect, you can't stop. san is eating it up, fucking into you so deep you can feel him in your gut.

too soon, he's pulling out, and you let out a pathetic cry. san pulls you up by your hips, his hands smoothing over your skin, as he explains, "wanna watch you when you come." he helps you sit on hongjoong's desk, lifting your legs up so you're completely exposed to him. he holds your thighs open and tries to fuck back into you, but you have to help him, taking his wet cock and guiding it back to your entrance. he thrusts into you, slotting his hips against yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. he should've fucked you like this the whole time, he thinks, because he can't stop staring. you look so perfect, so blissed out, and it spurs him on. he holds one thigh down as his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you.

"i'm gonna come, baby," he warns. "where do you want it?"

"my stomach," you gasp out. "wanna see it."

"fuck, you're insane."

"don't slow down," you whine, holding onto san's broad shoulders like your life depends on it. you let him fuck you senseless, clenching around him as you get closer. he brings his hand around to rub his thumb over your clit, and you jerk away in sensitivity. "can't take it, san, gonna come-"

"then come for me," he begs. "need you to come first."

"fuck, san, fuck," you gasp, digging into his shoulders as you hold him in place. you clench around him until he can't take it anymore, and he pulls out, his forehead against yours as you watch him stroke himself. he comes quickly, painting your skin, and you moan breathlessly as you watch him empty himself over you. "fuck, that's hot."

"we should do that again," san smirks at you, and you playfully push against his chest. you leave your hands on him as you respond, "not now. i'm exhausted."

"how long have you been here?" san asks, sudden concern in his voice.

"too long," you sigh, noticing how raw your throat feels. you cough, your back bumping into the mic behind you. "oh shit. i need to turn this off." you look at san as you crouch down, saving the file and sending it to yourself. "what the hell am i supposed to do with this?"

"listen to it when you get lonely?" san jokes, and you push him. "use it in a song, maybe?"

"that would get me fired," you inform him, making sure you've deleted all traces of it from hongjoong's computer. satisfied, you turn to san and cross your arms over your chest. "was this your plan all along? you get me to record a salacious audio and then blackmail me with it?"

"you still think i hate you?" he asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. "bummer. thought we'd moved past that after your first orgasm."

"i'm just saying, if this was an elaborate plan to get me to leave, i commend the effort-"

"y/n," he says softly, and you meet his eyes. they're serious for once, which is odd. "i don't hate you, and i don't want to get you fired."

"good to know," you squeak. his gaze is too intense for you, so you start looking for your clothes and then remember the mess on your stomach. "oh, yuck-"

"here, let me clean you up," san says, searching for tissues. he holds onto you carefully as he wipes up his release, pulling a few extra tissues to clean the mess between your legs.

"see, if you'd just let me help you like this on my first day, we wouldn't have been mortal enemies for so long," you joke.

"yeah, but we wouldn't have fucked like that if i had been nice to you from the start."

"so what now?" you ask as you get dressed. "you said you wanna do that again?"

"don't you?" san asks, his pants halfway up his legs. you unashamedly stare at his cock before you respond, but he's got his answer.

"i mean, if you want-"

"i do," he interjects. "whenever you want me. i'll be there."

"is this what everyone means, when they say you're so nice?" you ask genuinely. san comes over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist before he kisses you.

"guess you'll have to find out, huh?"

[tiredcowboyy]

The treasures of my future

I cant stop thinking ab the idea of merlin one day post s5, where they all survived, becoming really secretive and protective of his room and not telling anyone at all whats inside. Not even gaius. He even gets a lock installed and whenever anybody asks he brushes it off with jokes like “its to stop arthur from finding me” or smth.

he also unrelatedly really hates any talk of destiny, going to war, and anytime morgana mentions her fear of her magic turning her merlin slightly freaks out.

That is until one day gaius manages to catch merlin off guard while hes rushing between the main room and his bedroom and walks in.

Only to see a whole bunch of stuff that hes never seen before.

Merlin freaks out, tries to play it off as some weird experiments and stuff hes been collecting but gaius can feel it, somethings different about these items, not wrong but not right. Not really magic either.

It takes 3 weeks of gaius pestering him before merlin breaks and explains to him that he IS A TIME TRAVELER. after the battle of camlan as we know it that lead to arthurs death, merlin did wait, he really did, but in the year 2020 when arthur didnt return for yet another global crisis, merlin broke and did spell upon spell until he figured out how throw himself back in time.

And holy shit did it work well. He managed to come back just at the perfect time to change everything that needed to be done to assure that everyone lives happily and safely, and when he realises hes done it, he decides to stay in this time. See his friends and family grow old as they should have. See arthur rule as he should have. Live the life he has been craving to go back to for centuries now.

Until a month in he realises how old everything is. Sure merlin can survive without his phone and stuff but theres a few things he really misses. Like his slippers, his potato peeler, his favourite hoodie, and especially his favourite tea flavours.

So once in a while he allowed himself to go back to the modern day and bring one thing back. He started with a scented candle, because candles exist in camelot and having one here shouldn’t mess up time right? Then moved onto a herbal tea that he knows if he traveled past the boarders he may be able to find similar ingredients.

Then he brings a new release of his favourite book series because he cant help it and realises small things like that dont change time.

And so thats what he’s been hiding away in his room, all of his modern day stuff. Ranging from trinkets hes collected over his life to his favourite scarf to his stuffed lion that he won at a fair in the 80s. He doesn’t go back often, only when his tea runs out or he really needs something, he tries to limit it he really does.

It takes gaius another 4 weeks to wrap his head around it all. Another 2 weeks after that to touch merlins stuffed lion thinking it may attack him at any moment.

He makes gaius promise to not tell a soul, offering him tea bags as payment. They have a nice system from then on, gaius would try a new flavour of tea everytime merlin returned, once in a while he would also bring a modern day snack (gaius yelled when he first tried salt and vinegar crisps).

A yell which led to leon finding out. And so a cycle began.

[iiseult]

Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!

Wedding Night: Baldwin IV x reader

CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!

Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away

Wordcount: 2k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you. 

Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.

“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.  

“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes. 

“I promise I’ll be gentle.” 

He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted. 

“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it. 

He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little. 

“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in. 

“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.

“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.” 

You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-” 

You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter. 

“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke. 

“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him. 

Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.

“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds. 

You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back. 

“Can you sit up for me, please?” 

He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them. 

You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face. 

Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air. 

Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out. 

“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle. 

“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations. 

Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this. 

‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army. 

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch. 

Now it was your turn to blush. 

[satorella]

𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫!𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧

𝐏𝐭. 𝟏 (Pt. 2 | Pt. 3)

Boy next door!Eren who attends the same University as you. You’ve seen each other around campus and even have mutual friends, but have never spoken to each other directly.

He’s always thought you were cute though.

Boy next door!Eren who you watch from your living room window as he carries his furniture and boxes into his new house, shirtless. His hair was up in his usual manbun and his body was glistening in sweat from all the heavy lifting. Your mutual friends Armin & Jean, who are also his roommates, are shirtless out there too…

…hey! snap out of it!

Boy next door!Eren who notices you at the window and flashes his handsome smile, giving you a little nod. You wave awkwardly and quickly stepped out of view, “shit shit shit!” You feel the heat rising to your cheeks from embarrassment.

Boy next door!Eren who, after being your neighbor for a couple of weeks now, finds any excuse to talk to you. Even purposely bumping into you on campus.

“Hey, Y/n! Armin won’t be getting off work until later tonight, and he said you have the same notes for Chemistry. Can I come by later to copy ‘em?”

Boy next door!Eren who is always out in his garage/driveway working on his bike whenever you go get the mail in the afternoons.

His muscles flexed every time he moved and you couldn’t help but stare… until you tripped on the uneven pavement leading up to your house. Idiot!Y/n

Eren hears your yelp and snaps his head over in your direction, “You good?” He calls out. You can’t help but blush, “Y-Yeah just tripped on the…” You snapped your fingers trying to think of the word. “…Pathway?” He answers for you. You’re fanning yourself with your mail now, “Pathway! Y-Yes…” You chuckled nervously, avoiding eye contact with him. He notices and smirks. He sets his tools down and gives you his full attention, “Catalog for… Victoria’s Secret huh?” He leans against his bike, arms crossed over his chest… green eyes shamelessly roaming over your figure. “Heh, yeah… wait!” You looked at the mail you were fanning yourself with and, again, the heat rises to your cheeks seeing the lacey lingerie set on the front cover of the catalog. “…N-Not that I… I-I mean I don’t wear-“ You stutter. “So that’s not for you then?” He chuckles, continuing to tease you. “Uh… um, n-no. I-It’s for my roommate… Hitch.” Liar. “Ah.” He nods his head. You were so cute.

Boy next door!Eren who knows you’re lying. He knows that you do, in fact, wear lacey lingerie just like that one on the catalog you were holding. How does he know this? Well, truth be told, he’s seen you through your kitchen window, which is also right across from their kitchen window, wearing just that as you made yourself some coffee one morning. He swears he’s not some perv though! Your curtains just… weren’t thick enough… 🙂‍↔️

Boy next door!Eren who ends up transferring into your 10am Chemistry class and immediately finds a seat next to you.

“Well if it ain’t the pretty girl next door.” His familiar deep voice pulls you out of your textbook. You looked up to find him already smiling at you. No no no no no. Shit. You looked like absolute shit today. You know how when you actually try to look nice, nobody sees you? But then when you don’t put too much effort into getting ready, all of a sudden everyone and their mother is out and about?! Yeah. This was one of those times. He rests his arm on the back of your chair, a shiver going down your spine when his thumb lightly brushes against your shoulder. It wasn’t on purpose, at first. But as the next few weeks went by, you noticed he did this every time. He’d rest his arm on the back of your chair and then “innocently” end up making contact with you in some way. You were fine with it… obviously. 🤭

Boy next door!Eren who comes over one Saturday with Armin and Jean to install you and Hitch’s new washer and dryer machines.

“You guys really didn’t have to go through all the trouble…” You say as they lift the second machine in unison. “Why pay extra for someone else to do it, when you have three perfectly strong and capable neighbors who can do it for free?” They show off their muscles once they set the machine down in its designated spot in the laundry room and started hooking it up. “Let me at least make dinner for you guys.” You offer.

Boy next door!Eren who sits next to you at the dinner table, and just like in class, he rests his arm on the back of your chair. But this time he’s bolder in his advances. His usual feather light touch was more noticeable and he even went as far as playing with the ends of your hair. You don’t say anything, because well, you liked it. Armin, Jean, and Hitch noticed and gave each other subtle looks, but didn’t comment. The questioning can wait until later.

“So you and Y/n huh? When did that happen?” Jean asks once they were back in the privacy of their own home. “What do you mean?” Eren plays dumb, but the light redness forming on the tips of his ears betray him. “Yooouuuuu like her!” Armin’s grin widens. “Goodnight!” Jean and Armin share a smirk as Eren shuts his bedroom door.

Boy next door!Eren who couldn’t sleep that night, having spent pretty much the whole day with you. He even got a glimpse of your bedroom; his eyes locking on a lacey piece of lingerie sticking out of your drawer as he walked by. “Catalog wasn’t for her, my ass!” He mumbled to himself as he stared up at his ceiling.

Boy next door!Eren who your roommate, Hitch, questions you about while you washed the dishes and she dries them.

“He’s hot.” She breaks the silence. “Hm?” You pay her no mind. “Eren? C’mon, give me the details. Does he come over in the early mornings after I leave for work or what?” She grins playfully, nudging your shoulder. “What?! No! We just… have Chemistry together.” She raises a brow, “Yeah, I bet you guys do.” You rolled your eyes, “No I meant, Chemistry class.” “Whatever. If you’re getting laid, good for you girl.” “It’s not like that-“

Boy next door!Eren who knew exactly what he was doing this whole time. He knew what time you went and got your mail and purposely went out there to work on his bike just so he could see you if you guys didn’t have class that day, or just to see you again if you did.

Boy next door!Eren who all the girls at Uni would fangirl over. They all wanted to get a taste of him. But none of them were you.

His pretty girl next door…

© 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[bell4donn4]

Strawberry ice-cream | the summer in which Luke Castellan fell in love *ੈ♡⸝

In May, when you first arrived at camp, it was obvious to everyone that you didn’t like the place at all. Usually, campers would finally find bit of peace in that lost spot, far from the normal life and the judging mortals. But that wasn’t the case for you, you didn’t like living there.

The only “joy” you had, was the guy who you were assigned to. Luke Castellan, the counsoler of the Hermes’s cabin. The problem was, that he wasn’t a joy to be around at all, or at least that’s what people said. He wasn’t like that with you- okay, maybe at first he was ruder and more distant, but you brushed it off as shyness.

Chris, another guy from the Hermes’s cabin, explained he didn’t used to be like until he went off to some sort of mysterious quest you weren’t allowed to know anything about. But nonetheless, other than being a bit quiet, he wasn’t mean or bad to you at all, so you brushed Chris’s words off as well.

Quick weeks went by and it was already June, and all you did was follow Luke Castellan around. All of the other counsolers tried their best to integrate you inside of the camp’s community, but without much results. It’s just seems as you couldn’t enjoy anyone’s company.

You were quick to get sad, and it took a lot to even get you to open your mouth. It wasn’t that you were wary, just irreparably miserable.

Once again, the only light you had, was Luke. He was the only one who seemed to get you, and eventually everyone just gave up on you, leaving the burden to the guy. after all, this was the first time he took on a new camper ever since the quest.

You didn’t necessarily despised the camp, or the activities, Luke figured, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to like them either. Luke would often see you around camp, pouty, and lost in thoughts. Even when you had a training session with him, you still sighed and huffed everytime you got disarmed. Luke knew not to go hard on you, to be gentler than he normally would, yet it didn’t seem to help your case.

You liked lacy tops, and pearly white satin. Even while being in the Aphrodite’s cabin, it still seemed like you couldn’t fit in. You always looked helpless.

He tried his best to help you out, and his (only) friend would often tease him about how close the two of you were, the way you would follow him around like a lost puppy, and refuse to get a hand by anyone else.

Whenever Luke couldn’t be with you— to train you or to force you to participate in the camp’s activities— you would always find ways to disappear, so that Clarisse (another camp counsoler) couldn’t get you. You would disappear in thin air, and Luke would then have to come and find you in the most unthinkable places.

And for some reason, when he was able to find you— you were always snacking on a pink creamed cone; your signature strawberry ice cream, the one that matched your shiny lipgloss.

<<y/n- they’re looking for you. Cmon, let’s get out>>

<<but I don’t want to>>

And sometimes, he would let you stay hidden. Sitting beside you without letting a word out. He figured you liked the silence. And he did too.

Also, those were the only times in which you look the little bit happier; when you could sneak away and retire in a peaceful snack time. And he liked to see you happy, so he’d just go back to the others (after a good while tho) and tell them he couldn’t find you.

But by July, his friend noticed his weird acts. And Luke couldn’t hear the end of his big mouth.

<<you need to court her>> or <<you like her so much it’s embarrassing>> or even <<if you don’t make her understand your feelings, someone else will steal her from you>>

And he was right, but Luke thought you were just way too sweet for him.

So sweet you could give cavities. While he was all broody and moody. Mad and slightly rude to people who didn’t know him before the infamous quest.

Not to mention the way you we’re basically the only person he was nice to, and he personally thought that was enough of a give away; so much of a give away that he often would slap himself at his own awkwardness. but Chris reminded him that you didn’t even know how he acted with other people, since he tried so hard to be nice to you and in front of you. So how could you possibly know?

Luke would simply just shrug his shoulders every time, because he just couldn’t bring himself to get any closer. Maybe because he was scared, or maybe because he didn’t think he was worthy of it.

Nonetheless, you were completely unaware, because if you knew about the boy’s feeling, you definitely wouldn’t want to spend anymore time with him, but that definitely wasn’t the case, since you always begged for him to be with you, to hang with you and to spend time together.

He would get all red and giddy whenever you looked up to him with your doe eyes, asking him to spend more time with you. Sometimes he would find excuses not to, or other times he would simply agree, and stay silent for most of the time, scared to say something wrong and ruin everything. But you liked it anyways; actually, you loved to talk and loved even more to he listened.

You would spend hours talking to Luke about your newly bought cowboy boots, or whatever vintage find you got from the thrift store in the nearest town. You liked to drink Coca Cola, he learned, and your second favorite sweet treat after strawberry ice-cream were candies, the sugared ones.

You also loved road trips and country songs.

He learned all of these things in silence, simply nodding as you chatted with yourself.

He did find himself repeating all those information to Chris, later in the days when the camp was silent and the two friends could share a quieter moment.

Chris gave up on him at one point, letting his girlfriend’s best friend, Silena from the Aphrodite’s cabin, handle the situation.

But not even Silena seemed to be able to talk to you. You only had eyes (and words) to spar for Luke. Almost refusing anyone’s else company.

Silena clearly told Chris and Clarisse that there wasn’t much she could do. You seemed head over heels for him already. He just needed to understand that.

But Luke was blinded by his insecurities, and by his lack of self-esteem.

Even tho, his ego skyrocket the one time in which you drunkly traced his scar, smiling up like an idiot, and muttering a “you’re so pretty” that only him and the near forest nymph could hear.

But that was a story Luke kept to himself.

Chris eventually figured his friend would have to do something at one point, specifically by the end of summer.

And indeed, by August, Luke couldn’t even sleep anymore at the thought of you leaving camp. He wouldn’t have been able to see you for almost 8 months! That was way too much time.

Everyone noticed the change in his manners, the way he was always so nervous and on the edge of a panic, even you.

<<whats wrong Luke?>>

<<nothing to worry about, just stupid thoughts>>

You light up at his crooked and shy smile. If only you knew.

A week or two before the last day of camp, Chris threatened to push him off of a cliff if he didn’t ask you to stay, but for Luke asking you if you even considered staying was already too much, let alone asking you to stay. And for what even? Luke already knew how much you hated camp; you hated the games and the sparring and the swords and the sweat-

<<im not going home for winter>>

He froze on the spot. You couldn’t just drop such news without warning, how could you do that? Almost giving him and heart attack.

<<but you- you don’t like here>> he said, shuttering

<<I don’t like it at home either.>>

<<at least I have you here>>

Luke that day reevaluated the possibility of setting an alter for his dad in his bunk bed, or for any other god who watched over him, because that was definitely a miracle. Someone all the way up in the sky must have had mercy on him and his unfortunate life.

That day, probably on the 28th of August, Luke Castellan came back in the Hermes’s cabin almost at midnight, stumbling around on his own feet on the way to his bed, involuntarily waking up Chris, who cursed him out just for then to stop and stare at his dumbfounded face.

<<what happened?>>

<<she’s staying>> he smiled, almost scaring his still half asleep friend.

<<…>>

<<man, fuck off>> Chris Rodriguez officially had had enough at that point, but still smiled back to his friend as he laid down in his own bed.

[unholybacon355]

Milk Coffee

Mina x Reader

Words Count: 3.6k

A/N: You and your coworker Mina take a lovely breakfast together this morning at the office.

It had been an intense week of work, and it just didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. You and your team were currently working into making a contract for a new client that you bring to the company, giving everyone the smallest of margins regarding time, and placing a lot of pressure upon every detail so it remained perfect. There wasn't a day in which you didn’t stay after work hours, so coffee and energy drinks had become your greatest allies.

One particular night you had seemingly fallen asleep in the office, finishing so late that it was no longer worth going home. You simply decided to sleep on a couch in the break room. Your co-worker, and faithful assistant in your arduous task, Miyou Mina, had just happened to have fallen asleep on the sofa next to you when you entered the room, so, carefully and quietly, you made your way into your own temporary bed, the couch, and slept through the night.

Mina was a cheerful girl, despite always having loads of work like everyone else she never lost her smile. Sometimes you even wondered how a girl like her had come to be your co-worker. The word beautiful fell short for the likes of her, if elegance and beauty had a baby, Mina would certainly be her name.Not just her beauty, but she also most definitely had a figure any model would envy, and that gorgeous polka-dotted face of hers could make you buy whatever product she was advertising.

The company didn’t really have any rules about relationships between colleagues,as long as it didn't affect the performance, it wasn't a problem for anyone.But maybe in another life, where you weren't so committed and invested in work, you would have tried something with her despite the small age difference between you both.

The morning after you both passed the night on the break room couches, she decided to go out for some pastries for breakfast. The well equipped kitchen in the room allowed you to make some coffee for yourself and Mina, figuring that a nice cup would wake some senses for you both.

You and Mina were basically the only people in the building. The cleaning crew didn’t work weekends, and there was still time for anyone to arrive as well. Not to mention, you had instructed everyone to come in an hour later than usual, knowing they had earned it from the gruesome week of work that raged through.

Even though you weren't the boss, you were high enough in the chain of command to make those decisions, and after all they didn't have to suffer from the extra work you brought into the office. It was fifteen minutes to nine and you knew no one would arrive until half past that hour as you had previously told them, so you knew you had some quality time to have breakfast in peace with Mina.

Who knows, maybe today you would feel a little brave to flirt with her, but just a little. After all, reactions from cute girls like Mina would naturally bring your mood to the max.One thing is certain, and that was that you hoped that your occasional glimpses of her deep cleavage or her luscious legs had gone unnoticed. Even when you stole glances at her perfectly molded butt, which, regardless of whether she was wearing a skirt or a dress, it had always managed to look deleitable.

The last few weeks, you had also noticed that her touches and glances towards you were becoming a frequent thing, the occasional brush of your arm whenever she laughed, the playful rolling of your hair whenever she stood next to your chair, and leaning on your shoulder as you took the elevator to get to your floor. Not only that, but the occasional brush of your legs, the playfulness when you both sat together, and the faint feeling of her feet brushing against your legs whenever she sat across from you were also signs that she might have been having a little too much fun with you.

But again, you wouldn’t think too much about it. Small office would always lead to a lot of interactions. It was ten minutes to nine when you heard the door opening once again, noticing your coworker entering while carrying a small box that seemingly contained the pastries.

Mina always radiated beauty even in the most occasional of outfits. A simple cream-colored blouse with a bow adorning the middle, the jacket agreeing with the skirt that showed her long legs, meaty thighs. And the high heels with straps that secured her ankles. Everything made you want to admire her more closely. You had noticed how she had touched up her makeup before leaving for the pastries, but you didn’t have the time to admire her beautiful hair cascading behind her shoulders, something you quickly did as she entered with a smile. Despite the simplicity of her clothes, Mina had managed to look radiant. As if she had belonged in a runway and not a corporate office.

"Hope I didn't take too long, there were lots of people this morning." She apologized even though in reality she had only been out for a few minutes. "Don't worry, I made us some coffee in the meantime, so I would have still waited ifit wasn’t ready for when you came- woah.” You turned and suddenly stopped, a cup in each hand and almost spilling the contents on the person in front of you.

There she was, Mina, with her back facing you, on tiptoes that attempted to reach in order to get some plates from the cabinet in the wall; so, naturally, her skirt rose, blessing you with the sight of her smooth things from behind. Her extended form made the fabric clung to her curves , giving you a clear view of the shape of her ass, the sight of her cheeks parted without any effort was a blessing.

The sudden stop made you unable to move immediately, not to mention the way you ogled at her perfect backside like an animal, so, once she put her weight back on her heels you were practically touching each other involuntarily, making Mina let out a sudden gasp, as your heart jumped at the sudden touch. Her shapely butt pressing against your erection, which had formed at the speed of sound, but who could blame you with a view so perfect?

Mina didn't say anything, she stood still for a few seconds, making you swallow hard at what was going to be happening with you and your career. But to your surprise, she did something that took your breath away completely. Against all odds, Mina began to slowly rub her bottom in circles over your erection. "Oh. Did you get that hard just from a little glance?” You couldn't believe what you had just heard, but you weren't going to complain about what was happening either. “I didn't think you were that shy. Or maybe this isn’t really what you’re into?” She added to your silence. "I've seen the way you look at me, I know you want me."

You slowly put the two cups of coffee down on the kitchen worktop, thinking about what you were about to say."If this is some kind of prank you're going to regret it." Truth was that you wanted to grab her hips and rub against her, but if it was some kind of trick to make you fall, you'd rather stay safe. Although from her apparent response, she was very convincing, and that’s because she decided to rub her ass up and down your erection behind your pants. It was painfully slow but satisfyingly hard, the pressure she put into it made her cheeks part enough so that your cock could be felt between her rear. And she, instead of saying a word, just let out a small moan.

That moan was your breaking point, not being able to resist anymore, you took her by her slim waist, making the girl let out a gasp and a moan after you pulled her towards you even more. Letting your covered shaft be smothered by her parted asscheeks. More muffled moans escaped her mouth as she straightened herself to press her whole body against you. In an almost reflexive act, you began to plant kisses on her neck, still not finding the right mindset to believe how this was happening.

Mina rested her head on your shoulder as a sigh escaped her lips the moment you moved her hips a certain way, this only gave you more access to the intoxicating aroma of her skin, as you were able to take in the sweat that covered her body mixed with the perfume that she had applied the day before. After all, neither of you had had the opportunity to clean yourselves properly since you both spent the night at the company, but far from upsetting you, it only made your desires grow by the second.

You leave her waist and raise your hands to her supple chest, kneading both her breasts, as you bring your mouth closer to hers. Smothering her neck all over while approaching her full lips, until you finally connected hers with yours. Your tongues began to tangle in such a lustful way that you thought was forgotten in you. After all, it has been a long time since you've done something like that. The constant worrying of your job made it impossible for you to be this intimate with someone, relying on sad and lonely occasionally handjobs to relieve some pressure.

Mina decided to suddenly break away from your lips, and touch, making you surprised and left wanting more, but immediately thinking that all of this was just a cause of your twisted fantasies, that she was just playing with you to end your career and take over your place. But the moment she turned and smiled made all of those thoughts fly far away. As if that wasn’t enough, she reached down to raise her skirt and you were able to see her underwear

"We have a lot of time." She breathed out before getting between your legs and pressing her center against your thigh, as you took her by her rear to help her out with her plan, making you hiss at the soft feel of her supple asscheeks on your hands, making you give involuntary hard squeeze that earned you another moan from her lips.

You glanced at the clock on the wall.Nine o'clock, which meant you still had at least half an hour before someone would arrive. More than enough time to do whatever you were going to do in that little kitchen.

Mina began to rub against your leg at a pace that was slowly increasing over time, noticing the quiet moans and irregular breaths as she rubbed herself against you, you decided to help the chase of her orgasm by squeezing even harder on her ass, and kissing her once again.

Moving a little towards the furniture beside her, pressing yourself closer to her, you squeezed her ass and pressed your knee against the furniture, lifting your leg slightly, and pressing your thigh against her drenched cunt even more. Mina had now stood on her tippy toes because this was intense for her, riding your leg with a more feverish rhythm, as you left one of her cheeks to move your hand under her blouse and up to her chest.

Once again, your lips met and your tongues began a battle that seemed to have no winner. You could feel her quiet moans in your mouth, the way her body began to shake lightly as her movements became irregular, and you were more than sure that if it weren't for the fabric of your pants you would also feel her wetness on your leg.

You were met with little resistance on her bra that you would have loved to remove it completely so you could reveal those nice pairs of tits in all their glory, but you settled for playing with her stiff nipple since she was seemingly loving it if it wasn’t by the way she began moaning loudly out in the open room of the kitchen.

You knew you didn't have time to get naked and fuck right there, so the thigh-riding athad to do it, but the fact that she was practically using you to masturbate made you painfully hard by the second, your hard cock throbbing for some attention; but you could only keep using your hands to knead her body, wanting nothing more but to help her chase out her own pleasure.

You went back to her neck, kissing, licking it, savoring it, hungry for her. Little beads of sweat were beginning to gather on her pale skin by the way she moved around your thigh, and you were more than happy to wipe them away with your tongue. The scent of her dirty body from her sex and from spending the night in the office turned you on in a way you never would have imagined.

You used the remaining hand you had on her ass, to grab the back of her neck so you could more comfortably devour her neck, so you could suck on her collarbone and lick her chin, you were freaking out over Mina’s body as her thrusts into your leg became frantic, her moans rising in volume.

She held you tightly by your shoulders and you understood that she was about to cum, you kneaded her chest with need and you kissed her again more than anything to silence her moans. She couldn't play with her tongue anymore, she was too focused on moving her hips and keeping her heels up, so you raised your leg higher to take her off the ground, and taking her up the ass again you hit her as hard as you could. Mina hid her face in the crook of your neck, and in between spasms, and screams of pleasure, she climaxed.

Her whole body trembled against yours, causing her body to collapse against your chest the moment her orgasm finally seemed to be subsiding. You kept squeezing her ass just to feel it, loving the way your fingers sank around the flesh of her supple cheeks, and squeezing hard at one cheek to pull apart from the other.

Your bodies were still so close that despite both of them being fully clothed you could feel the throbbing of her pussy against your thigh at each deep breath she too, a breath that tickled your neck, as you found that despite not having done much you were also panting as if you had just ran a marathon.

You slowly lowered your leg and lowered Mina to the ground, but she was still so tired that she could barely stand, she was still holding you and breathing against your neck.

You stayed like that in silence for a few minutes feeling each other's body, loving the feel of her ass, the constant squeeze of her breasts, just catching your breath in a small kitchen filled with the aroma of sex, and coffee.

That is until Mina started caressing your chest and then lowering her hand until she put it in your pants. She didn't even say anything, and neither did she unbutton your pants when she began handling your cock, she just reached under your clothes and wrapped her fingers around your hard shaft before she slowly began to jerk you off, slowly and with little movement because her hand and your erect member didn't leave much room inside your pants.

Forms of affection swapped as well, with Mina beginning to plant soft and chaste kisses on your neck and chin, as her other hand rubbed along your chest, she was a little shorter than you so now that she was on the ground she had to stretch out a bit to kiss you, by lifting herself on her toes, and you could still feel her erratic breath as she pumped your cock, making you shiver at the tight yet comfortable grip she held on you.

You didn't want to let go of her ass as she worked on your cock, the soft skin of her buttocks felt so good in your hands. Her tender flesh was so malleable but firm that it seemed to melt between your fingers, but you really needed Mina's hand to move more freely, so, almost against your will, you let go of her ass to open your pants and lower them just enough for your cock to spring out.

The release of your cock was welcomed by both of you, her hand now having more range of motion which increases your pleasure, however, Mina did not increase the pace, she continued to slowly masturbate you pressing her fine fingers on your throbbing cock. Twisting her at a rate that almost made your balls ache, pressing her palm on your reddened tip, making your knees weak from her delicate touch to the point where you started moaning and breathing heavily by her technique.

You needed to come soon or you were going to go crazy, besides, you knew you didn't have much time left according to the clock on the wall, it was fifteen past nine, which meant that someone might be showing up soon. But that didn't seem to matter to Mina who simply kept kissing across your jaw without a care in the world as she kept caressing your cock endlessly slowly.

Missing her supple cheeks by a certain stroke that made you rest your hands on the counter behind you, you once again moaned next to her ear, feeling your cock twitching suddenly by her touch. You took another look at the clock and started to worry, it was only ten minutes before kick-off time and you were sure your neck was covered in her lipstick; also both were disheveled and with wrinkled clothes. Not to mention that your thigh had been stained with moisture from your partner's orgasm. Somehow Mina seemed to understand your concerns and she started stroking you harder, moving her hand up and down with a frenzy she hadn't shown until now. You helped her by moving your hips to fuck her hand reaching a new level of pleasure

You could feel the pressure building up in your balls, you knew you were about to explode and it was going to be a lot. To tell the truth, it had been weeks since the last time you came, so you couldn't take it anymore. Closing your eyes and tilting your head back waiting for the release, you couldn’t see what happened next as your breath hitched and slammed onto Mina’s hand one last time.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back waiting for the release, so you didn't see what happened next. Without stopping jerking off Mina took one of the forgotten coffee cups and pointed your cock at the dark liquid. With your eyes closed you had one of the best orgasms of your life, the release felt so good that you couldn't suppress the moans and moans that came out of your mouth. You almost fell apart right there as your legs were shaking a little, and only Mina's strong grip on your cock seemed to keep you going. Milking you to the last drop of creamy cum, she didn't stop jerking you off until she was completely sure it was all out. However, she did not let go of your shaft.

Now a little calmer you opened your eyes, and smiling for the relief you looked at her expecting to find her a mess. You thought she was going to be mad because you must have cum all over her blouse or skirt, but instead of finding the fabric ruined you saw your load floating in the coffee cup. She kissed your lips without giving you time to react, and finally she released your erection. The truth was that you would have preferred to cum in her mouth or on her body, but you didn't care at all about having done it over the coffee; after all that was the least of it.

You stared at each other for a moment as you both caught your breath, grinning like idiots, and still wanting to trade kisses. You didn't know what what had just happened meant, if it was going to be something at once or if it was going to represent the beginning of something. However, all those thoughts quickly drifted away from you when you heard the front door knob turn.

Quickly Mina gave you one last chaste kiss on your lips and separated from you heading out of the kitchen. In one hand she was holding the coffee cup with your milk, so she used the other to adjust her skirt. Before the fabric returned to their place you could see how her pretty butt practically swallowed her underwear, product of all the hustle and bustle, and how your fingers had been marked on her pale buttocks. But what made your cock hard again was watching her lift the cup to her mouth and take a deep sip of coffee before walking out to greet the newcomer.

You were stunned for a few seconds and then you realized that this was your chance to sneak into the bathroom without being seen. So even with the image of what had just happened you ran to hide to fix your clothes and clean up a bit, leaving behind your cup of cold coffee and the kitchen smelling of sex.

[littledemondani]

Eddie the munch munson who also loves boobs. His obsession is to the point where it doesn’t even have to be sexual. Watching a movie? Boob in mouth. Trying to fall asleep? Boob in mouth. Especially when the reader is on the period??? He just wants to make his bae feel better. Boob in mouth. The thought of sleepy needy eddie licking them so slow and gentle as his eyes flutter shut… I’m melting 🫠

oh my god 😩 dani.exe has crashed

warnings: 18+ only, smut, fem!reader, needy!eddie, nipple sucking, no use of y/n

a/n: this went entirely different than what i had originally planned lmao

you noticed something was off with eddie when he came home from working all day at the mechanic shop. he was clingier and way more affectionate than he usually is. not that you minded, you knew he only ever got this way when things became too much for him.

which seemed to be happening a lot more lately.

he was stressed. impossibly so. with your recent move into a new apartment, eddie figured staying late at the shop to work on a few extra cars would secure him enough money to make sure you both didn’t struggle. even though you reassured him he didn’t have to. though it was in one ear and out the other entirely.

you both lay in bed, your back on the mattress, eddie’s head resting on your chest. some sitcom was playing on your small tv, but the words were fading as you started to get sleepier.

eddie’s eyes were glued, though, his mind in overdrive as he thinks about all the extra shit he has to do for the next day. he’s fidgeting, fingers closing tightly around the light fabric of your spaghetti strap in an effort to ground himself.

you feel him and you just know.

he needs you.

badly.

“baby,” you whisper gently, brushing your fingers through his hair. “it’s okay. i’m here.”

he turns to look at you, his dark brown eyes holding every ounce of emotion he is feeling in them. it makes your heart ache.

“can i?” he asks, tracing his fingertips along the outline of your breast.

you nod, tucking his hair behind his ear. “of course.”

in a swift motion, he pulls the top of your tank down to expose your breast, and wastes no time in taking your nipple into his eager mouth.

he suckles with urgency, and the pleasure shoots straight down to your cunt, but you push those thoughts aside. this isn’t about you right now.

eddie cups your other breast in his hand, fingers toying with the nipple. his tongue swirls around the other bud, making figure 8 motions before wrapping his lips around it once more.

you praise him, tell him how much of a good boy he is, how much you love him, how great he’s making you feel, how he can take whatever he wants from you. his cock throbs against his boxers, and leaks a small bead of slick onto the strained fabric. he bucks forward involuntarily, seeking friction of any kind to help ease the ache.

he sucks generously on your nipple, pulling the bud nice and taught. he lightly grazes his teeth against you, feeling you squirm and push your chest up into him.

the stress begins to leave his tired muscles, first in his back, up to his chest, out through his fingertips. his body grows heavier against you, not entirely limp, but it lets you know he’s calming down.

his suckles become softer, gentler, until he stops entirely. he presses kisses along the swell of your breast, up your chest, to your collarbone, then to the crook of your neck.

“thank you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, wrapping his arm over your abdomen.

“i love you,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“i love you,” he replies, slowly trailing his hand down to your cunt. “more than you can ever possibly know.”