#and because this is so different from the tone i usually write

[prettyboykatsuki]

give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,” 

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication.  There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to  trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics. 

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while. 

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.” 

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.” 

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says. 

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.” 

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all  had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,” 

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.” 

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.” 

“Are you holding a grudge against me?” 

“Against your recklessness, yes.” 

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.” 

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored. 

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way.  Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side. 

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed. 

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before  moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.” 

You shake your head. 

 “I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.” 

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.” 

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both. 

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog. 

When your mind catches up with reality,  your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Hm…?” 

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,” 

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.” 

“Another medication you mean?” 

You shake your head, smiling crookedly. 

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.” 

“Holisitic?” 

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,” 

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?” 

“Maybe… something more physical.” 

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?” 

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.” 

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.” 

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”  

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him. 

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer. 

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.” 

“I’ll be more mindful.”  You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically. 

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.” 

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown. 

“Zayne,” 

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine. 

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?” 

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.” 

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks. 

“Comfortable? No pain?” 

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body. 

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt. 

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better. 

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping  that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch. 

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint. 

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can. 

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled. 

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth. 

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you. 

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.” 

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please  you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown. 

“I said spoil me. This is torture.” 

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile. 

“I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,” 

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear. 

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,” 

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs. 

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.” 

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer. 

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it. 

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better. 

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely. 

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke. 

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,” 

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes. 

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace. 

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands. 

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again. 

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.” 

You don’t get a chance to recover  your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough. 

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not. 

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you.  Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together. 

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.” 

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.” 

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

 Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply. 

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering. 

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself. 

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint. 

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly. 

“Fuck me.” 

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—” 

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.” 

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed. 

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.” 

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—” 

“Zayne,” 

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.” 

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.” 

“Will you help?” 

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.” 

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit. 

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies. 

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle. 

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. 

“One more should be—” 

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.” 

“You know very well it’s not.” 

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.” 

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting. 

 He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first. 

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip. 

“Have you changed your mind?” 

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone. 

“Stubborn thing you are.” 

“Zayne,”  You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?” 

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.” 

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance. 

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock. 

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat. 

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together. 

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally. 

“Aren’t going to move?” 

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.” 

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks. 

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy. 

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures. 

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent,  head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge. 

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice.  His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.” 

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you. 

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too. 

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—” 

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.” 

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds. 

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you  to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time. 

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again, 

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.” 

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

__

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up. 

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you. 

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?” 

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.” 

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?” 

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?” 

“This…?” 

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?” 

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…” 

“Kind? Honest?” 

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.” 

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?” 

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.” 

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it. 

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….” 

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks. 

“As if it’s something to thank me for,” 

[xhyjin]

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who really didn’t think the date through, as he now has to figure out who will watch yuji during the weekend. if the scenario were different, he would’ve asked you, but since you’re the one he’s taking out, he can’t. he thinks he should cancel it and plan it out better but doesn’t want you to think he’s careless or impulsive, so he plans a romantic dinner at home. that way, he can still keep his word and watch yuji at the same time.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who thinks a romantic date at home is a dinner in his backyard, decorated with fairy lights, flowers that yuji picked from the garden as the centerpiece, and the most expensive wine sukuna could afford. to say he wasn’t nervous would be a lie. he spent a good 30 minutes purging his closet because he wasn’t sure if wearing a suit was too much or not. yuji sat on his bed, watching his uncle/dad show him potential outfit choices, facepalming and shaking his head at every single one until sukuna finally decided to wear the suit.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who hasn’t felt this nervous in his life at all. he sits on the couch with yuji as they watch spongebob, his heart pounding as he glances at the clock above the tv. biting his nails nervously, he starts to think you won’t show up. just as those thoughts begin to consume him, the doorbell rings. both his and yuji’s heads shoot up as they look at each other before he gets off the couch and makes his way to the door, silently praying that wearing a suit wasn’t too much. but when he opens the door and sees you standing there in a pink sundress, he swears he’s fallen in love at the mere sight of you. quickly clearing his throat, he greets you. “glad you could make it,” he says, trying his best to maintain his usual nonchalant and snarky attitude. but the way you’re smiling at him—it could melt an iceberg, let alone him.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who is about to say something else as he walks behind you while you make your way into the house when yuji runs up to you and hugs your lower legs. “ms. l/n!” he says excitedly. sukuna watches the scene in front of him with heart eyes, feeling a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time. the way yuji loves you fills him with so much happiness, especially knowing how much you’ve been there for them during these hard times. yuji grabs your hand and tells you to close your eyes before eagerly dragging you to the backyard. you follow his lead, curious but not expecting much. when you open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of a beautiful backyard, dimly lit with fairy lights. you can’t help but gasp as you take it all in, your heart swelling with surprise and admiration.

“you did all of this?” you ask, turning to sukuna. he stands there with a smug but proud look on his face, clearly pleased with himself.

“sure did,” he says, making his way toward you and placing a hand on your lower back. “right this way,” he adds, his voice smooth as he guides you to the table set up in the middle of the backyard.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who takes a seat in front of you, watching as you admire his backyard. “wow, sukuna, i honestly didn’t expect all of this,” you admit, a small smile spreading across your face as you glance around. yuji runs back into the house, only to return moments later with a piece of paper in his hands.

“what? you didn’t think i was a romantic guy?” sukuna teases, his tone light. before you can respond, yuji interrupts, holding up the paper proudly.

“this is the menu!” he announces, placing it in front of you. the “menu” is just scribbles, but as yuji’s teacher, you can easily make out the words.

“wow, spaghetti with house-made sauce?!” you exclaim, pretending to be amazed, and yuji giggles, his face lighting up with pride.

sukuna leans in slightly, his expression half curious, half amused. “you can actually read that little brat’s writing?” he asks, clearly impressed.

rolling your eyes playfully, you respond, “yes, and don’t call him that.”

sukuna chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “whatever you say,” he replies, standing up moments later. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have to help the head chef. he’s particularly short,” he jokes, smirking as he walks off. his comment earns a giggle from you, and you nod, settling back in your seat as sukuna follows yuji into the house to get the so called spaghetti with house-made sauce

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who spends the rest of the night completely captivated by you. he notices everything-the way you pick up your fork, the way your lips part as you take a bite, the way you chew so delicately, and the way you cover your mouth with your hand when speaking or laughing. his gaze lingers on your eyes and lips, and he catches you shyly avoiding his stare, which only makes you more endearing to him. he's utterly mesmerized and determined to kiss you at least once before the night is over.

as midnight approaches, you help sukuna tuck yuji into bed, the little boy fighting sleep because he doesn't want to miss any more time with his favorite teacher.

"i'll see you on monday, yuji," you say softly to him. his sleepy eyes light up as his uncle carries him on his hip.

"you promise?" yuji asks, sticking his pinky out toward you.

you chuckle and intertwine your pinky with his. "yes, yuji, i promise," you say, following sukuna as he walks into the house with yuji in his arms. after tucking him in, you both quietly leave the room, making your way to the front door.

"i had a really good time, sukuna," you say shyly, absentmindedly twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers. sukuna smiles at the sight of you, looking so cute and beautiful.

"i had a good time too," he says, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone as he steps closer. "y/n," he says your name softly, almost like a whisper.

you look up at him with doe eyes and nod.

"yes, sukuna?"

"may i kiss you?" he asks, his cheeks flushing a faint pink, matching the hue of his hair.

you involuntarily gasp but quickly catch your composure, nodding as your gaze drops to his lips. sukuna leans in, one hand gently resting on your waist while the other cradles your cheek.

"have i ever mentioned how beautiful you are?" he murmurs, his forehead pressing against yours. before you can answer, he closes the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is both soft and rough, filled with unspoken feelings. his hand on your cheek slides to your waist, pulling you closer as your arms wrap around his neck.

after what feels like an eternity, he pulls back slightly, his lips hovering mere inches from yours as you both catch your breath.

"i'd love to see you again," he says, his voice hopeful, his eyes searching yours.

"it's a date then," you reply with a smile, your heart racing as you look into his eyes.

should i just turn this into a fic? ><

[tasteracha]

a/n: hey @chvnnie remember when you asked me to write this like a year ago? i did it. inspired by that one skzcode clip of seungmin teasing felix and felix getting pissed off. warnings: seunglix x afab!reader, meanish dom felix, sub seungmin, smut - MINORS DNI.

you’re woken up by jarring voices, the tv that had been providing you background noise for your slumber having gone to sleep shortly after you did. it takes you a moment to identify the sounds, your brain coming online a few moments after your heart, beating rapidly in your chest from being kicked out of unconsciousness so abruptly. 

“you don’t have to be so fucking mean all the time,” you register felix’s voice first, a dangerousness hiding in his dark tone that doesn’t come out often. he’s usually so positive even when he’s in a bad mood, optimism cracking away at any negative emotions in a way you admire. 

“i wasn’t being mean,” seungmin scoffs in return, and you can hear him walking down the hallway towards the living room where you laid with bated breath. “you’re just being sensitive, lix.”

oh, he’s done it now. 

seungmin sees you first, a blinding smile taking over his face as he walks over to you to run a hand through your hair. you relax into his touch, relishing in the comfort while knowing that a fight was about to break out soon - you knew the difference between felix being sensitive and being genuinely angry. 

right now, even without seeing his face, you knew it was the latter. 

felix walks into the room and you swear he looks six feet tall, standing with his arms crossed and a look on his face. it makes you shiver though it isn’t directed at you, and it goes unnoticed by seungmin even though his hand is still buried in your hair - he was too occupied with smirking at felix, pouring gasoline into a fire that was already blazing towards the ceiling. 

you know what they say, play with fire and you’ll get burned. you hope that seungmin was prepared for what is about to occur. 

“you want me to take care of this, lix?” you ask, your role of Professional Seungmin Tamer coming increasingly more natural as the days went on. it is a last ditch effort to calm the flames. 

“no,” felix’s jaw is set in a hard line, and you can see his teeth grinding together. “i’ll take care of him myself.”

“take care of him myself,” seungmin mocks, snickering to himself for a moment before choking around it from the sudden feeling of felix’s hand around his jaw. felix has moved like a ghost, crossing the room in quick strides and covering seungmin’s body with his own in a silent motion. seungmin’s hand falls from your hair, reaching up to wrap around felix’s wrist - not moving it away, but rather bracing himself against the storm.

seungmin is usually taller than felix, but he’s left looking up at him because of how his knees buckle. despite his clear disadvantage, seungmin lets out a growl at felix’s touch.

“awh, you going to bark for me?” felix coos at him, not an ounce of warmth behind his words. “puppy.”

“you wish,” seungmin hisses out, the breath leaving him completely when felix tightens his grip on his jaw and uses the other one to brace the back of his neck, trapping seungmin completely against him. 

“how can you say that when i can tell you want me so bad already?” felix says, looking something wicked as he wedges a thigh between seungmin’s legs. from where you are you can’t see the younger man’s crotch but you’re certain that his jeans are tented with arousal; your own core was starting to pulse with heat just from watching them, despite you not being touched by either of them. 

“i don’t want you,” seungmin scoffs, trying to turn his face out of felix’s grip and failing. he was lying; seungmin always wanted felix, but nine times out of ten it was on his own terms. you can only imagine how fast seungmin’s head was spinning right now at the sudden change in dynamics. 

watching seungmin twitch his hips against felix’s thigh was maddening. this is the first time you’ve seen felix take control of seungmin like this. maybe felix would make seungmin ride his thigh - that was something you’d be delighted to see. 

“then why are you so hard?” felix’s mouth twists into a grin, wicked and sharp, as he presses his leg further forward, putting pressure on seungmin’s cock and making him moan. 

seungmin, for all his false bravado, submitted beautifully and easily when it was for you. it didn’t surprise you that he did it for felix too, but the sight of his muscles losing their tautness all at once was something to behold. he falls into felix’s arms, boneless and grinding his hips in little circles against the older’s thigh, the fight drained out of his body as quickly as it had arrived.  

“i hate you,” seungmin mutters weakly against felix’s chest as he chases a high he must know he won’t be allowed just yet. the fight left his body, not his mouth, evidently. 

“you’re just making this worse for yourself with every word,” felix chuckles, dry and mean, as he turns seungmin around and pushes him roughly forward. seungmin stumbles and throws a glare over his shoulder, but the effect is lost when he continues to let felix manhandle him. 

“baby,” felix calls out to you, his tone shifting to warmth instantly. you perk your head up and you can’t suppress the shiver that wracks through your body as he cocks his head towards the bedroom while leading seungmin there, a clear invitation to join them for whatever felix was planning to do. you’re on your feet before you can blink, anticipation burning through your veins. 

you have to pause and take a deep breath when you reach the door frame before going in; you knew that what was about to happen was like a fantasy pulled from the deepest depths of your mind. when you gather the nerve to peek inside, seungmin is already naked on the bed, his bottom lip hidden between his teeth as felix fastens his wrists to the headboard with the soft ropes that typically adorn his own. 

“open your mouth,” felix digs his fingers into seungmin’s lips, ignoring how the younger thrashes against the bonds keeping him in place. felix leans forward so that he’s kneeling over seungmin and slides his free hand into his dark hair, scratching softly at his scalp before curling his fingers into a fist and pulling.  “this is all the lube you’re getting, so unless you want me to fuck you dry you’d better do as i say.”

the words sound unpracticed as they spill out of felix’s lips, but seungmin’s lips part with a gasp nonetheless. he chokes on the digits as felix explores his mouth, reaching every crevice and swiping around his annoyingly white teeth. his fingers coming out glistening with saliva, wet and dripping as he lines them up with seungmin’s hole. 

felix opens seungmin up brutally, sliding two fingers in and cooking them up with a look of satisfaction on his face when seungmin jumps. it was a caricature of their usual dynamic, with felix typically melted into the sheets as seungmin uses him however he sees fit. felix finds seungmin’s spot with practiced ease, letting out a laugh when seungmin cries out at the intense pleasure. he avoids it after, scissoring his fingers almost clinically, teasing seungmin with the sensation that is so close but that he won’t be granted.

contrary to his claim, felix squirts a generous amount of lube on his cock once he undresses before he pushes in slowly, letting seungmin feel the drag of every inch. the younger’s breaths come out in violent shudders, and as you step closer to look his pupils are almost completely blown over his irises, barely a hint of chocolate brown to be seen. 

felix presses a kiss to seungmin’s forehead when he bottoms out, the gentlest touch he’s given him since he started. it shows how spaced out seungmin is that he leans up into the touch, craving felix’s touch like he would starve without it. seungmin’s eyes are glassy, a spaced out expression taking over his face that you’ve never seen before. he tends not to let his guard down, even during the most intimate moments that you share, and you hope that you get to witness this again. 

felix keeps a steady pace, dragging out slowly before pushing back in with a snap, driving seungmin further up the bed with every movement. 

“love?” felix calls out, and both you and seungmin make a noise. you know that felix was talking to you only when he ignores seungmin completely, continuing to snap his hips, pulling breathy whines from seungmin with every thrust. “will you come here?”

he says it like a question but your body thinks of it as a command as you float over to him, stopping just inches from the bed. felix unfastens seungmin’s wrists from the headboard, keeping them pinned together, and pulls him up. he turns him and wraps his arms around his chest until they are both kneeling upright, flush against one another. his cock remains buried inside of seungmin the whole time and you can’t help but give him a look of impressed approval. he looks pointedly at you and then the space he cleared out in front of seungmin in response, and you flush as you kick off your sweatpants and climb into the bed, laying on your back. 

when did felix learn how to tell you what to do with just a look? you didn’t know where this was coming from, but you loved it. 

felix places seungmin gently onto you with the carefulness that you expected from him on any other day. if it weren’t for him not wanting to crush you with seungmin’s weight, you were sure he would have thrown the younger onto the bed with little to no thought. seungmin settles against you like he belongs there, nuzzling his face into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, and you can feel how hot his cheeks are against your skin. his cock settles between your thighs, hard and rigid, and you let out a sympathetic hum when felix stops him from rutting up against you. he reaches around seungmin and lines the younger man up against your hole, a little clumsy with his movements, and you can feel his leaking cock twitch against you. 

felix pushes seungmin into you with a snap of his own hips, driving himself deep into seungmin as he gets buried into you in one motion. the moans you and seungmin let out harmonize into the thick air, the scent of sex swirling with the noises in a colorful kaleidoscope. the colors burst into fireworks as felix sets a fast pace, pleasuring the both of you so naturally. 

felix leans past seungmin to kiss you over the younger’s head, and seungmin keens at the sight of it. he’s sandwiched between the two of you, chasing pleasure from every angle, and witnessing the two people he loves most in the world make out on top of him - you’re not sure that he can even think in coherent sentences right now. with his cock surrounded by your tight heat and felix’s own ramming into him, you’re surprised he can even keep his eyes open. you know that this is the moment where he surrenders himself to felix completely. 

you reach your limit faster than you ever have, your clit untouched and throbbing; just the obscene sight of seungmin being used between you and felix is enough to bring you to the brink of pleasure.  

“seung- lix, can’t,” you gasp out, every push of felix’s hips driving seungmin’s cock further into you, making you jolt - it’s too much. 

if it’s too much for you, you can’t imagine what it’s like for seungmin.

you thought that felix would take pity on you and let you finish, too focused on punishing seungmin, but instead he pulls out of the younger man and pulls him out of you with a harsh pull. 

seungmin all but wails at the loss, bucking his hips down onto the mattress. you hadn’t realized how close he was, too lost in your own high, but his brow was pinched and his lips were twisted just right to tell you that he was. 

“please, please,” he begs, flipping himself over to kneel in front of felix. “let me come, please.”

“you think you deserve to after what you did today?” felix looks down at him, eyes cold as ice. your own neglected orgasm was brushed away by the sight of seungmin begging. he was usually too proud to beg, too in control of situations to even need to, but in this moment he was completely helpless to felix’ whims. 

“i’m sorry,” seungmin loses control over the tears brimming in his eyes, fat tears dripping onto his cheeks. “‘m sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to-”

he falls forward into felix’s chest, entire body shaking with his shuddering breaths, and you see felix falter for the first time tonight. he looks at you with slight panic, the coldness melting away into affection towards the man crying into him, and you simply nod at him. you know what to do, you blink. you can do this, you smile. 

“puppy,” felix shushes him, running a hand down seungmin’s spine. “it’s okay. you’re being so good for me now, right? my good boy.”

“‘m good,” seungmin hiccups into felix’s chest, nodding his tears into felix’s skin. 

“you’re sorry, and you’ve been punished, right?” felix coos at him, trailing his blunt fingernails up and down seungmin’s back. “you’re alright.”

“i can come?” seungmin’s words come out nasally from his tears. 

“yes, puppy,” felix moves his thigh so that it’s between seungmin’s legs, trapping his weeping cock against the flexed muscle there. “take what you need.”

seungmin whines out a broken thank you and starts his hips at a rapid pace, chasing the high that he had been denied over and over. you lose count of the sniffles, whines, and moans he lets out, but you can tell exactly when he comes because his entire body seizes and his throat constricts around a high keen. 

felix strokes his back through it, shushing him and pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks and face. you can’t help but smile at the gestures, a little overwhelmed at how naturally felix fell into this rhythm.  your smile freezes when his own turns sharp, and he winks at you before flipping seungmin over and sliding back into him. he pushes seungmin down onto the bed and the push of hot breath he puffs out at the impact hits your forgotten cunt. felix pushes one hand down onto seungmin’s nape as he fucks back into him, chasing his own high and nurturing your own. 

you can feel seungmin’s lips trembling against your core with every thrust, his body pushing up against yours until he’s trapped between your legs. he licks at you un uncoordinated motions, but it’s enough. a few beats of time later, between the harsh slaps of felix’s thighs hitting seungmin’s ass and seungmin reaching up to squeeze his hands around your thighs, you come with a content sigh. your legs tighten around seungmin, keeping him close as your hips jerk against his mouth, and the sounds of felix coming are drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 

the next few moments pass by like snapshots, blurred images separated by shocks of camera flutter, and by the time your brain catches up with your body you’re laying down in a new position. your head is pillowed on felix’ chest, him sandwiched between you and seungmin, the latter’s fingers tangled between yours. 

“what the hell just happened,” you blink a few times, jaw almost dropping open when you see the utter contentment on felix’s face. 

“i think i discovered something new,” felix’ voice is languid, rumbling against your ear like a muted symphony. 

“if this is what it takes for you to learn things, we need to piss you off more often,” you tease, teasing a finger around felix’s nipple just to hear him hiss and see the soft glare he sends towards you. like a kitten. 

a puppy and a kitten; what were you going to do with these boys?

“speak for yourself,” seungmin mumbles from felix’s other side, coming back to himself slowly. he glances blearily at you, and his drying tear tracks and red rimmed eyes make him look so incredibly beautiful. “i can’t move a single one of my limbs.”

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ popular!chris tells some of the football team all about his little secret

wanted to post this before i start working on the blurb where they finally meet because it will just make everything all make more sense :) also how exciting that the next thing i post for this au will be them meeting!!!!!

my asks are always open for this au! you can find all writings for it here and everything else for it here!

chris was stood by his locker in the changing rooms.

the heavy bass of the music blaring through the speakers, as usual. the beat of the song playing was pounding throughout the room. the rest of the team scattered across the room, all getting ready for practice, talking and laughing, all discussing the upcoming weekend.

this weekend was the annual fancy dress fundraiser and it was a big deal, especially to the team. it was the one night of the year where everyone came together for one massive party as the whole school was usually in attendance, from the jocks to the quiet kids, all packed into one place, it was hosted by the football team to raise money for new equipment, gear and all the things they needed to get through the season. this year, especially, everyone was hyped, and the pressure to raise more money than they had last year was on. chris had been playing well recently, and he knew that just like last year, he expected to be the center of attention all night, but this year was different.

the party had been on his mind a lot but not in the same way as it was for the guys, this year it wasn’t just about getting black out drunk with his friends and raising the funds for football, it was the night he was finally going to meet you in person, the girl he’d been talking to for months, the girl who despite everything, made him feel like he was more than just the football captain, your conversations had turned into something he wasn’t sure how to explain, a connection that now felt so much more intense to him than anything else he had ever experienced, in his world full of constant pressure, you were his little bit of sanity and all he wanted now was to put a face to the words that he had become so attached to.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts of you when he hears matt across from him calling his name, “yo chris, you good?” he says, looking over at him, “you’re so zoned out.”

chris shakes his head, trying to shake off the thoughts that had started to creep up on him. “yeah fine, just fuckin’ tired man.” he mutters, grabbing his helmet off the bench and adjusting his pads.

“what you thinkin’ about? can see something is on your mind.” matt asks, not convinced.

“nah, i’m alright, just thinking about the weekend, still don’t know what i’m dressing up as.” chris mutters, his mind drifting back to the party and the secret he was keeping.

nate, who was stood next to them overhears and sits himself down next to chris, “bro what do you mean? i heard little miss cheerleader is telling everyone that you’re going together” he chuckles, “there’s no way she has left getting your outfits this late.”

“actually..” chris says, feeling ready to confess to his brother and best friend, “i’m not going with her.”

nate's mouth falls open in disbelief and his eyes widen as if they are about to fall out of his head with the shock of chris’s confession, "what the fuck are you talking about?" he laughs, "does she know that? she was bragging in biology this morning about how you’re going matching again”

chris leans back against the bench he was sat on, crossing his arms, shooting nate a look, “yeah, well, it’s all a little more complicated now and we aren’t together anymore, we haven’t been for months.”

“wait…” matt’s tone quickly changing to one of realization, and he raises an eyebrow. “you’ve met somebody else, haven’t you? you’ve been acting weird, being all fuckin’ mysterious and shit for months, all your late nights and always being on your phone is all making sense.” he says, before adding, “i knew it, i fuckin’ knew it. nick owes me fifty dollars”

chris glances between matt and nate, unsure of how much to reveal. he had never shared anything about you with anyone else, just because he wanted to keep you all to himself, “she’s someone i met online over the summer break,” chris says, keeping it vague, but he knows no matter how vague he keeps things, it wouldn’t stop them from asking questions, especially nate who was the biggest gossip chris knew.

nate looks more confused than anything now, leaning in, voice dropping to a whisper, “what do you mean online? you’ve never met her?” he asks.

“no nate, online as in i don’t actually know who she is” chris shrugs before quietly adding, “i met her on that fuckin’ anonymous student forum app during summer break, she doesn’t know who i am”

“oh my god, man” nate smacks his knees and stands up, “this is wild” he says, but before he can say anything else, chris quickly grabs the bottom of his shirt pulling him back to be sat back down.

“listen, keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about her, okay? i don’t want any of the team finding out until i have told ‘little miss cheerleader’ that i can’t go with her to the party” chris says, sternly. “i don’t want anything to fuck this up and i don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“i think it’s kinda hot actually, all the mystery of it all is sexy” nate laughs, “don’t you agree?” he looks over at matt who is quiet, just looking at chris with an almost concerned expression.

matt stands up, grabbing his helmet knowing the conversation was coming to an end, for now, as they needed to get on the field for practice, “as long as you know what you’re doing,” he says, his eyes locking with chris’s. “it’s cool that you’ve met someone new but just be careful with it. shit like this could get complicated real quick, especially if you’re finally meeting face to face.”

chris meets his brothers gaze, feeling the weight of his concern. “i’ve got a good feeling about this and i promise you i know what i’m doing, i wouldn’t be this far in with her if i didn’t.”

matt nods, giving chris a light pat on the back as they make their way towards the tunnel to the field.

“i knew you’d been less grumpy recently,” nate smirks, “it’s all that phone sex you’re having” and before chris can say anything back to that, nate is running down the tunnel and away from him.

[esote-rika]

not a mask, but a reflection | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader Category: idk hurt/comfort?? flangst? something like that, I'm sorry I truly don't know how to categorize this Summary: The BAU ladies insist on a makeover for Spencer, so you decide to indulge them by promising to take him shopping. It doesn't go as either of you expected, but it allows a chance for the two of you to form a deeper bond. Content: reader’s outfit is described, reader is based on Blair Waldorf in background, and personality– so you're rich!! and fashionable!! And snarky, but in a ride or die sunshine x sunshine protector kind of way, early season 2 glasses!Spencer crushing on reader, implied autistic Spencer, brief mention of his bullying, lots of dialogue!!! especially about fashion advice (PSA to wear whatever you want!!) Word count: 2.8k A/N: I'm back on my Blair Waldorf-reader agenda. I'm mainly writing these because of my own crackship, but I tried very hard not to describe any specific appearance stuff for the reader (aside from what ur wearing) so it’s as immersive and universal as possible! Styling in film and TV fascinates me and I wanted to explore Spencer’s character through clothes. ALSO! I incorporate a Blair Waldorf quote into the conversation that goes “Fashion is the most powerful art there is. It’s movement, design, and architecture all in one. It shows the world who we are and who we’d like to be.” pls know I didn't come up with it, the Gossip Girl writers did. It's from S4E13 specifically.

Saturdays are usually meant for curling up on his couch to read his favorite books, or marathon obscure foreign films. Alone, always alone, Spencer Reid has grown used to the feeling; accepted it, enjoyed it, even. He wouldn’t have survived all these years if he didn't appreciate his own company, after all. 

However, today is different. He’s expecting company, which is unusual enough, but he’s expecting you of all people. And it’s for such a silly thing too— a makeover. Something straight out of a cliche high school movie. It had started at work, during a case, a passing comment made by one of the people being interviewed. Something about looking like he’s playing dress up, spoken so softly he’d been willing to pretend to ignore it. 

But you heard it, had snapped at the man in annoyance about respect and propriety. At the jet, you had snapped at him about wearing clothes that fit better, and of course Morgan and JJ had to get involved, and Garcia squealed about a makeover over the phone. He hadn’t expected you to accept; when you did, he considered several ways to get out of it: pretend to have a date (implausible), pretend to get sick, just don’t show up. But then you said you’ll meet him at his apartment and his world seemed to come crashing down.

“I need to see what I'm working with before I dive headfirst into this,” was your reply when he protested. It makes sense, of course, but he's not happy about accepting you into his space. It's curated for him and his comfort, and he dreads the idea of casting your shrewd, critical gaze over his design choices. If he's less of a coward, he would admit that a small part of him desires your approval. Craves it, needs it, so much it makes his skin crawl.

So that’s why his Saturday morning is spent cleaning; straightening books, hiding the case files strewn about. He doesn’t want to give you any ammunition to tease him with. Having to undergo a makeover is embarrassing enough.

It reeks of bleach when he opens the door for you. The wrinkle of your nose has no business being so cute when it's obviously done to express disgust.

“What is that smell?”

“Hello to you too,” he can't keep the sarcasm from his tone as he steps aside. 

You saunter in heels even though this is meant to be a casual get together. They click against his hardwood floors until you reach his rug, the thick fabric dulling out the noise. “Did you bleach your entire place?” 

His expression is sheepish as he closes the door, “I figured I'd clean.”

“You sure you're not hiding a murdered body in here?” you walk straight into the middle of his apartment and look around. He winces as he waits for your verdict.

“I’m not, I just - you’re so -”

“I’m so?”

“Particular.” I don’t want to disappoint you, but he clamps his mouth shut before the words escape. Having you come in for a makeover already isn’t doing anything for his confidence. In fact, it just confirms his suspicions. Something is wrong with him, despite all the attempts at propriety and flattery otherwise. The BAU sees it, you see it, and you’re here to fix it. He swallows the lump in his throat, and with it, his pride and the tiny hint of resentment. 

You are trying to help, he reminds himself. 

Maybe it’s his hopeless optimism, maybe it’s desperation to seem normal for once, but it’s enough to surrender to your knowledgeable hands. 

He lets his eyes take you in, allows himself a moment to linger on the details of your ensemble. The picture of coordination, as usual; shoes and bag the same shade of rich brown, the barrettes in your hair matching the pale blue trimming along the edges of the sundress you’re wearing. This is you dressed down, he knows, but somehow you manage to outdress him. 

“I’m not even going to ask what you mean by that,” your eyes roll, before landing to one of the doors in his apartment, “Where’s your bedroom?”

He sputters, “My - uh, why?”

“I’m assuming that’s where you keep your clothes?” You look at him like he’s dumb, and he turns bright pink. “I told you, I can’t take you shopping before I see what you already own.”

He can’t believe he fully didn’t realize it meant letting you into his bedroom. But then again, his brain has the tendency to turn to mush when he’s speaking with you. “Right,” he nods, scrambling to his bedroom. All of his anxieties about his living room and the overwhelming amount of books seem distant now; you hadn’t even commented on them. Instead, this new one arises, bubbles in his stomach. Showing you his bedroom is so much more intimate. The space he sleeps in, where he’s most vulnerable.

A space no other woman has ever even seen. 

He feels your presence behind him, smells the distinct loveliness of the perfume you like to call your signature scent. Of course you don’t ask for permission. He’s found quickly that you’re used to taking and having what you want, used to the world yielding to you instead of the other way around. 

Your heels make sharp taps against the floor. Combined with your perfume, it’s already obvious that you’re making your mark in his room, his haven. He imagines the fragrance will linger when you leave, and it makes his ears burn with a longing that knocks the wind from his chest. The door remains open, and he’s thankful that he isn’t completely caged in his bedroom with you. 

“Here’s my, uh, where I keep my clothes.” he hastily opens his closet, relief flooding his body as he sees it’s not that messy. Everything is ironed and pressed, although some of his sweaters are haphazardly piled together. He hopes he won’t have to show you the mess that is his sock drawer. 

You step up beside him, bare arm brushing against his. Brows furrowed in concentration as you rifle through his clothes. He steps back to give you more room to work with, although it’s more for his sake than yours. Your proximity is making him a little dizzy. He finds himself slumping on his bed, watching your movements. You’re approaching the task at hand with the same meticulous acuity as you would in a crime scene. Focused. Detail oriented, even when doing something so insignificant.

He’s not sure what to expect. He’s bought his clothes based on what he sees other men wear, relying on his observation skills, and the clothing guidelines given by HR to deduce what is considered appropriate. His father wore dress shirts a lot, back when his family was still intact. Hotch and Morgan wear suits, but those have always felt too formal to use on a daily basis. He opts for cardigans and sweater vests to keep him warm instead, because they’re softer, less restrictive. They remind him of Diana, the things she would wear back when she could still teach. He hopes you don’t make him get rid of them.

“You wear a lot of light browns,” your voice lifts him out of his anxious stupor, “You have to give that up.” 

He frowns in confusion, “What’s wrong with wearing light brown?”

“You’re too pale, they make you look even more sickly. But if you must wear brown, lean into this shade instead,” you hold up a dark brown blazer that he actually really likes. He smiles, happy that it got your seal of approval. You turn to him, eyes narrowed, “And your dress shirts are too big, look at where the shoulder seam falls.” 

He blinks in surprise as your hand comes to touch an inch past the edge of his shoulder, pinching the fabric, “It should be up here. You’re too slim for an oversized look, it just swamps your frame. If you’re going to be wearing them, they have to fit you better.” 

He nods, feeling a little out of his depth, “How do you know all of this?”

“Years of consuming Cosmopolitan and Vogue.” You turn back to the closet, he frowns slightly. The words mean nothing to him, and he flinches when he hears you sigh.

“Fashion magazines?” you prompt, glancing back over your shoulder.

“Ah,” He nods, lips pursed, “I can't say those are on my reading lists.”

“Obviously not, otherwise you'd know not to wear,” You gesture at his entire ensemble, nose wrinkling once again, “This.”

It doesn’t really occur to him what the problem is as he looks down at his checked button down. “It’s a nice shirt.” he says, although he can see your point now; it’s too big. 

“Reid, you look like you’re about to start proselytizing about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ.” you say, stepping away from his wardrobe and stopping in front of him. 

Your teasing makes his cheeks burn. Or maybe it’s your sudden closeness, your hands at his buttons, “Um, what–” he’s stiff, memories rushing of being held down, clothes forcibly ripped—

“Relax,” you step back after undoing the top button. The annoyed scoff surprisingly gives him some comfort, reminds him it’s you, he’s here with you, “There, that’s better. Don’t button it up all the way.”

“Why not?”

“I told you, it makes you look like you’re cosplaying a minister.” He shifts under your gaze, feeling exposed, even though he’s fully dressed. But that’s exactly what you’re judging, after all, his clothes. There’s nowhere to hide. “Why are you so tense, Reid? It’s not going to make you look like a fool, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Why? Where does he even begin? The fact that he’s never had a woman in his room before, and it’s making him feel like he’s about to implode? His memories of being stripped naked for all the school to see, humiliated, fueling the irrational fear of letting go of his clothes, the things he’s comfortable wearing. And for what? In order to be fashionable? To seem normal, to be fixed? 

He settles for a half truth, the words mumbled and embarrassed, “I like my clothes.”

To his surprise, your eyes soften, “Okay. And?”

“I like how I dress.”

“You don’t want to change your style?”

He looks down and shakes his head, feeling a little silly. How can he explain it to someone like you, who probably would have been one of his tormentors when he was back in school? It’s sick, this desire to be close to you, to be accepted by you as though being in your orbit would lessen his eccentricity. He thought he’d left it behind in high school, had grown out of it, but it’s there, recognizable and refusing to let him rest. 

“You know you didn’t have to say yes to this,” the bed dips as you sit beside him, “It was a silly thing the girls and I thought would be fun, but if it’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop and we could just, I dunno, go for ice cream instead.”

“No, I - I do, I just… don’t want to change completely.” It's almost pathetic how something as simple as clothes is making him spiral, “I like how I dress, even if you guys make fun of it. It’s comfortable. I get really cold hands, and the sweaters help, and - and the satchel is convenient even if you say it clashes with my outfits or whatever.”

Your hand rests on his forearm, and his rambling halts immediately.

“Then I won’t stop you from wearing grandpa-chic,” the lightness in your voice makes him smile, “This is why I wanted to see what you had. I wasn’t about to start from scratch, and there’s obviously a reason you gravitated towards these pieces. I wouldn’t force you into something you hate, that sort of defeats my fashion philosophy.”

“Your fashion philosophy?” He's smiling now as he listens to you.

“I believe that the whole point of fashion and clothing is to help reflect what you are on the inside, not mask it.” You reply, hand finding his own. He allows it, finding something warm and soothing in the touch of your hand, silencing the usual urge to pull away in fear of germs. “And, anyway, I think your clothes make you look really intellectual, so if you like them, you have the pieces in your closet already, it’s just a matter of styling them better.” 

You squeeze his hand, but he could have sworn you did it to his actual heart. 

He watches as you return to his closet again, rummaging through the clothes. You hold up a white button down and a navy blue cardigan, head tilted to the side, teeth worrying the plushness of your lower lip, “Like this; this is a nice combination, and it’ll work better with your complexion. Try it on.” they’re tossed over to him, landing on his lap.

You’re turning away from him, still going through his clothes—allowing him privacy. He appreciates that. He scrambles out of his current clothes, his skin prickling as he thinks about the fact that he’s in a room with a woman alone, getting undressed. No. You’re a friend and a coworker doing him a favor, he should get his head out of the gutter. Hurriedly, he puts the suggested ensemble on.

“Uh, it’s — you can turn around.”

He holds his breath as your eyes rove over his figure, still with the same sharpness he’s used to, but blunted by the small smile playing across your lips. “Yeah, that’s better. Navy’s a great color for you.” you have a stack of his shirts in your hand, all of them patterned and printed, “I’m sorry, but these… have to go. Or at least don’t wear them to work. The prints are ugly, no offense.”

He chuckles, taking the shirts from you, “Not wearing ugly prints to work anymore, got it.”

“Yeah, keep the funky patterns on your ties.” you reach up, brushing lint and dust off the cardigan, “Your shirts should remain plain, solid colors; you have a lot of nice sweater vests and cardigans, it’ll be easier to match them together if your shirts are in more basic colors.” 

Committing your words to memory is easy enough. Rules. He likes rules, but they need to make sense to him, otherwise their arbitrariness will simply frustrate him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

So far, you’re being so receptive to his questions, it might actually make him cry. It’s a new feeling, being the one who’s floundering. Not being the smartest, most knowledgeable person. How exciting, he decides, getting to learn in an area he’s never been able to fully understand on his own. He clarifies, “Why can’t I match the cardigans and sweaters to, uh, colorful shirts?” 

It’s a while before you answer, moving around to wind a tie across his neck. Your words are thoughtful when you speak, “It’s a visual balance. Too many colors and patterns can look heavy and distracting— which is okay, you know, but time and place is always something to consider when you’re dressing up. And you’re going to work, so it’s better to err on the side of caution and wear things that are more… sleek.” Your hands are deft as they tighten the tie, tucking it into the cardigan. “So now that I know what sorts of clothes you like to wear, it’s a matter of finding the right color combinations and cuts that fit your body. Here, see for yourself.”

You push him forward until he’s in front of his mirror, and indeed he does look… better. Still himself, still familiar, but the contrast of the navy cardigan against his pale skin somehow brings out more warmth from his cheeks and makes his hair seem less dull. Visual balance, you said. “Like art,” he murmurs.

“Exactly,” your smile is proud, peeking from behind his shoulder, “Fashion is the most powerful art there is. It’s movement, design, and architecture all in one. It shows the world who we are and who we’d like to be… and this is showing the world that you’re one attractive nerd.”

He laughs at that. There’s a lightness in his chest as he realizes he doesn’t have to change everything. “I think I get it.” he replies, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Of course you do, you’re a genius.” A slap on the back, one filled with warm intimacy, “Now, I did promise the team a makeover, so now that I know what sort of stuff you need, we can finally go shopping… and we need to do something with your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he asks, but he’s smiling and so are you.

THERE WILL BE A PART TWO! Also, tagging everyone who expressed interest in Waldorf!Reader @mggslover @libraprincessfairy @lillaberry @lokisswiftie

[zerocoded]

summary: the view of linkon city from above is really different than what you're accostumed to, but you can't help but love every second of it when caleb is by your side.

authors note: can't believe i'm posting a caleb work here on this account before a sylus one LOL, anyways i'll treat our dragon fine later, now this colonel has been eating my brain the past two days and i need to get this out. this is pretty lame honestly, just trying to figure out what caleb i want to write among ALL of the ideas his one minute trailer gave me geez. i hope you like his soft side here because i plan to write a more obsessive caleb next time hehe. (GUYS I CAN'T FIND THE AUTHOR OF THIS BEAUTIFUL DRAWING I FOUND ON PINTEREST HELP).

warnings: soft!caleb lol he is just our boynextdoor here • idk where this would fit in the og story so just enjoy the reading and pretend it makes sense pls • sfw content

word count: 0.6k

the neon glow of skyhaven's artificial skyline reflected off the polished surfaces of the floating colony, bathing everything in shades of blue and violet. caleb leaned casually against his fighter jet, the sharp angles of the aircraft framing his silhouette. his black jacket, emblazoned with the deepspace aviation administration emblem, caught the faint light, making him seem larger than life.

“thought you’d chicken out,” caleb said, his voice laced with mock disappointment as you approached. “figured you’d be too scared to race the great colonel caleb.”

“scared? of you?” you shot back, folding your arms. “last i checked, you scraped the hull of your jet in the last drill. hardly inspiring confidence, colonel.”

he chuckled, the sound low and warm, and pushed off the jet with an easy grace. “ouch. remind me to never let you near the observation deck again. you’ve got a real knack for holding grudges, don’t you?”

your banter was familiar, a shield against the weight of the world outside skyhaven. but tonight, there was a strange tension in the air, unspoken yet undeniable.

caleb stepped closer, his usual teasing smirk softening into something more genuine. “you know,” he began, his tone quieter now, “all jokes aside, it’s good to see you up here. the city looks... different from above. easier to pretend it’s not falling apart for a while.”

you glanced past him, your gaze settling on the twinkling lights of linkon city far below. “it’s not falling apart,” you said firmly. “not while we’re still here to fight for it.”

“always the optimist,” caleb murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you make it sound so easy.”

“it’s not. but what’s the alternative?”

silence stretched between you two, broken only by the hum of distant machinery. caleb looked at you, his purple eyes searching yours for something unspoken. when he spoke again, his voice was softer, rawer.

“do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if we hadn’t lived through the chronorift?” he asked. “if we’d just... had normal lives? no wanderers, no aether cores, no missions?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his words. caleb rarely let his guard down, always the jokester, always the soldier.

“sometimes,” you admitted. “but then i remember how much we’ve done—how much we’ve survived. i wouldn’t trade that. not if it means losing you.”

his gaze sharpened, and for a moment, caleb seemed to forget the world around them. he took a step closer, the space between you shrinking.

“Y/N,” he said, your name heavy with meaning. “you know i’d do anything to keep you safe, right? even if it means...” he trailed off, looking away, his jaw tightening.

“even if it means what?” you pressed gently.

he exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. “even if it means putting the whole world in danger. you’re the one thing I can’t lose.”

for once, you didn’t have a comeback. instead, you reached out, your fingers brushing his. “you won’t lose me, caleb. not as long as you don’t give up on yourself.”

the tension between you softened, replaced by something warmer, quieter. caleb’s smirk returned, though it was tinged with something deeper this time.

“guess i’ll have to stick around then,” he said, his voice lighter now. “wouldn’t want to miss out on you finally admitting i’m the better pilot.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “keep dreaming, colonel.”

and as the two stood there, beneath the artificial stars of skyhaven, it felt, for a moment, like the weight of their world was a little easier to bear.

author's note: look how sweet we can be, see? anyways next time i'll be writing about how he fucks probably, xx. CHECK OUT MY NEW POST ABOUT CALEB. send me a request • my masterpost

[usoinked]

Hi I absolutely love your stories. You write the bloodline so well. Could I possibly get a story where jimmy and jey are the readers trainers since she is a up and coming wwe superstar. She is insecure about her body and her in ring skills so whenever shes training jimmy and jey always hype her up. Maybe drew or Kevin say something to the readers about her appearance and in ring work and the usos step in to protect her. They take her back to her hotel room, comfort her and tell her how beautiful she is. She doesn't believe it and they want to show her how beautiful she is to them but she is nervous because this would be her first time. They are sweet about the whole thing and make sure she is comfortable the entire time. Could I also have some sweet aftercare and pet names like sweetheart and babygirl. If you decide to write this I know you will do a great job. 😁

OUUUU I love this idea so much! I hope you like this!♥️

Built For Us (Jimmy X Jey X Black Reader)

CW: SMUT duh, 18+ MDNI, Virgin, Creampie, Unprotected P in V, first timer, pet names, dirty talk, inappropriate language, threesome, happy ending (they care about you fr fr) ♡

Word Count: 7.2k

It’s another early morning in the training facility, and the ring feels like a second home. But today, something feels different. The weight of all the eyes on you, the pressure of expectations, it’s all slowly starting to get to you.

The ropes feel like they’re cutting into your skin as you land a hard fall. You’re were fatigued, burnt out, and nowhere near confident. Sloppy even. You’ve been feeling off for a few weeks now—especially about your body. It’s been hard to shake the nagging voices in your head, telling you that you’re not good enough, not toned enough, not fast enough.

“Come on, Y/N! You’ve got this!” Jimmy’s voice is like a lifeline. You glance up, and there’s Jimmy standing by the ropes, a big smile on his face. His usual playful demeanor is still there, but you can see the determination in his eyes too. Being the older twin, he was always reassuring and made sure to always encourage you when you were down and out.

“Yeah, babygirl, shake it off,” Jey adds, giving you a knowing wink. “You lookin’ stronger every day. Don’t let that headspace mess with your flow.” Then there was Jey, the younger twin who was more serious but also a little flirtatious when encouraging you. You didn’t mind it, in fact you liked it. It started to build your confidence back up a little bit.

You forced a smile. “Thanks, guys,” you mutter, but the insecurity still lingered. You constantly compared yourself to the women in the locker room. Rhea, Bianca, Jade, Tiffany…the list could go on. You wanted to be like them, agile, fierce, praised, and appreciated. But you kept having slip ups, even in training and that constantly lowered your confidence and will to even keep going. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you’re just not…there yet. Every slip-up, every mistake feels like another confirmation that you just weren’t good enough.

After what felt like an eternity of grueling drills, everyone started to wind down, grabbing some water and taking off their gear. Jimmy and Jey were over toward a corner discussing their lines for tomorrow night while taking off their gear and closing their bags. The sweat clung to your skin, your muscles ached, but the pressure to perform was starting to ease slightly. Thank goodness. As you were standing in the middle of the ring, attempting to catch your breath, you heard voices faintly from the side. Drew McIntyre and Kevin Owens, who were observing from there had started discussing some of the newer talent. They actually were giving positive feedback towards the newer talent…that was until you heard your name and those comments made you freeze in place.

“Did you see her match last week?” Drew said, loud enough for you to hear, his Scottish accent thick with slight disdain. “She’s got potential, sure, but her in-ring work? It’s sloppy. I don’t think she’s ready for the big leagues yet.”

Kevin chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, and I mean did you see her arms? She’s gotta put in more work in the gym if she wants to keep up with the others.”

Their words stung, hit you like a punch to the gut, and the shock of it all made you unable to move. You know they didn’t mean it maliciously, but the words still cut deep. You wanted to shrink, to run away, to hide. But instead, you kept your head down, trying to avoid eye contact.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the self-doubt creeping in. The tears in your eyes welled up and those voices started to make their way inside your head again. You’re not good enough. You’re not strong enough. You’re not pretty enough.

But then, you heard Jimmy and Jey’s voices. They must’ve heard what was being said because they didn’t sound pleased in the slightest.

Jimmy steps forward, his tone sharp and commanding. “Aye, Drew. I heard you had a lot to say uce” he snapped. “You wanna say it to us?”

Jey walks up next to him, his posture just as solid. “You got a problem with her, you got a problem with us uce.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you two going to do about it? Huh? Unlike the rest of the locker room you two don’t scare me.” Drew looked unmoved and even the ‘try me’ expression on his face stayed rigid.

“Plus it’s an opinion. Remember, same way it’s your opinion you’re better than everybody backstage just cuz you’re with Roman.”

Jimmy got closer actually giving a very dangerous look. “Disrespecting her is like disrespecting the family uce.”

“And when you disrespect the family, you disrespecting the tribal chief.” Jey chimed in stepping up closer to the two men with Jimmy.

“And now we got to get you. In the ring, tomorrow night.” Jey kept it short but that mean mugged look he had gave it all away. He was pissed.

Drew and Kevin exchanged a glance, before looking back at Jimmy and Jey scoffing. “Alright, have her watch ringside though, I’m sure she could learn a few things from you.”He said sarcastically having that callous smirk on his face before he and Kevin walked away.

“Man f-“ Jey almost let a curse word slip as he went to go after them but Jimmy held him back. “We’ll get em in the ring uce, don’t worry bout it.”

You had been thinking about what Kevin and Drew said yesterday and it still stung. Their words rang in your ears and played back to back like a song on repeat. You were currently attempting to prep for your match against Bianca Belair, stretching and making sure your gear was in tact. You were called “The Anomaly” and it makes great sense because nothing about you fit the typical mold that most people would expect. You had a moveset as wild as your mindset, you were unpredictable, and with constant training you were constantly evolving even though you, yourself couldn’t see it. That was the irony with your character because truthfully it represents you. Bianca was really strong opponent though and with you being a submission specialist, the goal was to get her off her feet.

While prepping for your match, you heard a soft knock on the locker room door before walking over to it and cracking it open just to see who it was. “Hey, we just wanted to come make sure you was good.” No but damn y’all definitely look good…snap out of it Y/N!

Jimmy had on a regular “Island of Relevancy” shirt displaying him, Roman, Jey, Solo, Sami and Paul in the background of it while holding up the undisputed tag titles. His beard neatly trimmed while the top of his head was overshadowed by the “B/L” cap that he was currently wearing. His tattos looked slightly more faded than Jey’s but they added to how fine he looked. Speaking of Jey…he was also there behind Jimmy. His eyes displayed anger from yesterday still, his lips slightly parted showing the golden grills that draped over his bottom teeth. He was also wearing the same shirt Jimmy was, but it was a crop top that hung a bit high displaying his belly button and brown skin beneath. His strong hands gripped the undisputed tag titles as if they were attempting to run away, his tattoos contorted as his muscles tensed while doing so. You could tell they were both ready for their match based off of their demeanor alone. Damn.

“Aye Y/N, you good?”

“Huh? Oh sorry, I zoned out.” Yeah I bet you did…

“You good? I know you got this match against Bianca Belair and based off the look on your face I know you still thinkin’ bout what happened yesterday.”

“Oh….yeah” you said looking away before opening the door fully allowing them to come in.

Jimmy walked in first with Jey following closely behind, as you shut the door behind them both.

“Don’t listen to ‘em, sweetheart,” Jimmy says softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You stronger than that. You gon’ make it, and we gon’ help you every step of the way. Ight?”

“Damn right. You got the heart of a champion, babygirl,” Jey adds, pulling you into a brief hug. “We believe in you. Always have. And always will.”

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders. The Usos had your back, no matter what. You didn’t have enough time to think about it too much though because it was around 7:30 pm and you and Bianca were actually opening the show. Your confidence was low but it was gradually rising higher and higher due to the Usos sweet words and encouragement. “Well, I’d better finish stretching. Thanks for the support y’all I really appreciate it f’real.”

“Aye, no problem. You know we gotchu” Jimmy stated before he and Jey got up heading to the door.

“And remember, you the Anomaly. You different. Keep it like that.” Jey said before him and Jimmy exited the room. You took his words in as you shifted your mindset continuing to prepare for the match.

The arena erupted in a chorus of cheers as Bianca Belair’s entrance music hits. The fans are all in for the EST, and she plays it up, smiling and flexing as she makes her way to the ring with Jade following close behind to cheer her on. Confidence radiated off her, as usual—she was a fan favorite for a reason. But today, there’s an edge to her—this isn’t just another match. It’s a statement. Once Bianca made it to the ring, playing with her ponytail one last time, her music gradually came to a close.

Then, your music hit. The lights flickered, distorting for a second, followed by the eerie screech of the theme song as you made your way down the ramp. There was an unsettling energy in the air as you stepped through the ropes, your eyes locked on Bianca with an unwavering intensity. The fans felt mixed emotions, some cheering, others a little confused, but no one was indifferent.

Just as the bell rings, Bianca immediately tried to overpower you, using her strength and agility to dictate the pace. She hit a few power slams and a shoulder tackle, backing you into the corner. The crowd roars as she starts taunting, using her usual move set, trying to make a point that she’s the stronger of the two.

But you can’t be shaken that easily. You start to counter her every move with a series of elusive rolls and quick reversals, the crowd growing more curious with every step. It’s clear they don’t know how to react—Bianca, the powerhouse, is having trouble keeping up with your unpredictable, almost chaotic style. Each dodge felt like you were in control, bending the match to your will. You thought about Jey and Jimmy’s words of encouragement from training the day before using it to motivate yourself further.

Bianca, frustrated, goes for a KOD (Kiss of Death), lifting you high, but in a split-second, you reverse it with a twisting roll, locking in a modified armbar. The EST was quick to power out, but your eyes flickered with determination, like you’ve unlocked a new level in a video game. This was your moment.

Bianca hits back hard, using her EST strength to bring you to the mat with a brutal suplex. She stalks you for a moment, clearly preparing for something bigger. The crowd senses the impending power move, chanting for Bianca to end it.

But as she attempts another KOD, you counter again. You ducked under the move, using Bianca’s own momentum to launch herself into a quick roll-up, but it’s not enough. As Bianca kicks out, you shift positions, sliding seamlessly behind her. Before Bianca even realizes it, you hit a modified rolling cutter and instead of going for the pin, you immediately went for the submission locking in the Quantum Collapse.

The submission was swift and disorienting. Your legs wrap around Bianca’s midsection in an intricate hold, while your hands pull her arms back in a torturous position. The move feels like time itself is being distorted—there’s no escape. The crowd watches in shock, unsure of how to process what they’re witnessing.

Bianca tries to fight it, but the more she struggles, the deeper the hold sinks in. Her body starts to shake as the pressure builds, a mix of pain and exhaustion overcoming her. The move is unlike anything she’s encountered, and with nowhere to go, she taps the mat, signaling the submission.

The bell rings, and the crowd went silent for a moment before erupting into applause. You immediately let go once she tapped out of shock as you covered your lips with one of your hands. You stood up as the referee raised your hand, and for the first time, you heard the cheers that had once felt distant. The Anomaly, the strange, enigmatic force, has just made her mark on SmackDown—by defeating the reigning EST of WWE. Even Jade was shocked but looked impressed before crawling into the ring to check on her partner.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat dripping down your face, but there was a moment of clarity. The fog you had been fighting against started to clear. You did it. You beat Bianca. The submission, Quantum Collapse, was executed perfectly—an unexpected, unorthodox move that no one, not even Bianca, was ready for.

As the fans cheer, all you could think about was Jimmy and Jey. How they were probably dapping each other up backstage and screaming at the monitor in support. Especially Jey, he was always the more hype one. You gave yourself a silent acknowledgment closing your eyes relishing the moment that you had proven something to everyone—especially yourself.

But just as you begin to feel that sense of pride, a shadow crossed your path.

Bianca Belair stood in the middle of the ring, recovering from the submission. She stared at you, her expression unreadable at first before she took a step forward. For a moment, the tension was palpable. The crowd started to fall silent, unsure of what was about to happen.

Then, Bianca extended her hand.

“You got me, well played” she says, breathless but with a genuine respect in her eyes. “You’re more than what they give you credit for girl.”

You hesitate for a second, the weight of the moment sinking in, but then you grasp her hand. It’s not just a handshake—it’s an unspoken recognition. You’ve earned this. For the first time in the women’s division, you felt acknowledged. Recognized. And to get that from Bianca of all people, someone you constantly compared yourself too, was a treasure.

Later, as the show continued, you were back in the locker room, your was body sore and your heart raced. The win still felt surreal. You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection almost unrecognizable, but in the best way. You’ve overcome the voices in your head and the doubts that were suffocating you. The Anomaly wasn’t just a name anymore—it’s who you are.

You heard a knock at the door which you answered already knowing who it was.

Jey walked in, a grin on his face. “Told you,” he says, leaning against the wall. “You got this. You showed ‘em tonight.”

Jimmy ended up smiling walking in before gently embracing you. “We proud of you Y/N, you went out there and proved everybody wrong. Now it’s time for us to go and handle some business.”

“Oh yeah, we still gotta get Drew and KO for yesterday, disrespecting you is like disrespecting the family. And you know we don’t play about family.”

“Trust me, I know. But thanks, Jey,” you reply, your voice steady now, stronger than before. You returned Jimmy’s embrace with one of your own before pulling away smiling. “You too Jimmy, I think I finally get it. Look. Good luck in your match tonight and don’t get hurt too much. I still need that encouragement from you two.”

Jey and Jimmy only gave a chuckle in response. “Aye I can’t promise I won’t get too hurt but we’ll still be there for you regardless if we do.”

“It’s bout showin’ up and you know how we is when it come to that.”

“I know you’ll both do great, I’ll be watching” you said not realizing that came out as a bit too seductive.

“Now we definitely winning” Jimmy said before Jey laughed as they made their way out of the room.

The arena was alive with excitement as they prepared for the main event of the night, Jey and Jimmy Uso stepped out from behind the curtain, holding their Undisputed Tag Team Championships high in the air. The brothers were adorned in their customary Bloodline colors — black and red, with their gear and titles gleaming under the lights. The roar of the crowd is deafening, with many fans chanting “USO!” and holding up their ones as the duo walked down the ramp, meaning nothing but business.

“The Usos—Undisputed Tag Team Champions, but more importantly, they’re the backbone of The Bloodline. You know Roman Reigns is watching this closely tonight.” Corey Graves commented on ringside.

The brothers got into the ring, raising their titles one more time in unison before settling in their corner. Suddenly the sound of a sword slashing hit and the crowd buzzed as Drew McIntyre’s music hit, followed by Kevin Owens’. The two competitors marched down the ramp, looking as ready as ever for a fight, with Drew’s sword, Angela, over his shoulder.

Michael Cole chimed in, “We know McIntyre and Owens are a force, but it’s hard to bet against The Usos, especially when they have that unmatched unity that only comes with being part of The Bloodline.”

As Drew and Owens enter the ring, the two had a heated stare-off with the champions, and the tension between the two teams could be cut with a kitchen knife.

Once the bell rung, Jimmy and Kevin immediately square off. Owens stepped forward with his typical aggression, slamming a hard fist into Jimmy’s chest, but Jimmy countered with his quickness, ducking under Owens’ next strike and landing a sharp chop to Owens’ chest. Jimmy kept up the pressure pulling Owen’s toward him into a clothesline, knocking Owens to the mat.

“Great offense from Jimmy Uso! The Usos are known for their speed, and it’s showing early on here.” Michael commented.

Owens quickly rolled to the corner and tagged in Drew McIntyre, who immediately used his size and power to take control. He charged at Jimmy with a big boot, sending him crashing into the turnbuckle. McIntyre followed up with a brutal suplex, holding Jimmy in the air for several seconds, showcasing his raw strength.

“Drew McIntyre, the Highlander, showing off that raw power that can turn the tide of any match.”

But just as McIntyre took his time showing off to the crowd, this gave Jimmy time to roll to his corner and make a desperate tag to his brother, Jey, who rushed in with a series of quick strikes. Jey went for a superkick to McIntyre, but Drew dodged, and the two lock eyes for a several seconds before charging at each other. Jey ducks under Drew’s attack, tagging Jimmy back in with a smooth double-team maneuver.

The Usos begin to string together their signature moves, using their teamwork to overwhelm both Owens and McIntyre. They execute a beautiful double superkick to Owens, sending him to the outside, and then set their sights on Drew McIntyre.

“This is where the Usos are so dangerous, Michael. It’s all about teamwork, quick tags, and creating chaos.”

Just as The Usos begin to pick up momentum, Kevin rolled back into the ring and caught Jey off guard with a huge super kick, sending him to the mat. Owens then quickly tags in McIntyre, and the two heavyweights double-team Jey. McIntyre hits Jey with a powerful belly-to-belly suplex, and Owens follows it up with a senton bomb.

“Kevin Owens and Drew McIntyre are not letting the Usos get comfortable. They’ve turned the tables!”

Jey tried to fight back, but McIntyre and Owens keep him isolated in their corner. Drew hit Jey with a series of shoulder thrusts into the turnbuckle, each one weakening the tag champion more before tagging in Owens. The crowd is on edge as they watch the Usos struggle to regain control.

Corey spoke into the mic seeing the chaos. “McIntyre and Owens are relentless here. This is tag team wrestling at its finest — wear down the opponent, isolate them, and hit them hard.”

But the Usos didn’t stay down for long. With the fans chanting and clapping for them, Jey found a burst of energy and ducked a clothesline from McIntyre, following up with a superkick that made Drew stumble back. As Owens tried to grab Jey and prevent him from making a tag to his brother, Jey rolled his body around and kicked Owens back. He then crawled to his corner and reached out, desperately tagging in Jimmy.

Jimmy Uso exploded into the ring, hitting a super kick to Owens, then another to McIntyre, who was now on the opposite corner. With the crowd on their feet, Jey found the momentum and quickly hopped back into the ring with Jimmy as Owens was tossed into the ropes. Jimmy quickly made his way behind him picking him up as Jey caught him in the air, hitting their signature 1-D combo on Owens, sending him crashing to the mat.

Corey screamed into the mic. “1-D! The Usos are looking for the win!”

But just as they prepare to end it, McIntyre makes a desperate dive to break up the pin, but Jey kicks him back out of the ring, sending the Scotsman stumbling to the floor. The momentum shifts as Jimmy goes for the Uso Splash.

“Jimmy’s up! He’s going for the splash!” Cole shouted.

As Jimmy leaps from the top rope, Kevin rolls out of the way, causing Jimmy to land on his feet and into a roll. But Jey, now recovered, dives in for a suicide dive onto McIntyre, who was attempting to interfere, knocking both men out of the ring. With Owens down and attempting to recover, Jimmy hit him with a super kick again before climbing to the top rope and hitting a perfectly timed Uso Splash onto Kevin Owens.

“1! 2! 3!”

“DOWN SINCE DAY ONE ISH! WE BEEN DOWN SINCE DAY ONE ISH!”

The bell rings as Jey and Jimmy stand victorious, both brothers raising their Undisputed Tag Team Championships high in the air. Their theme song hit as the Usos celebrated together, standing tall as the crowd goes wild, chanting their names.

“What a victory for the Usos! They weathered the storm, kept their heads in the game, and secured the win. And just like that, The Bloodline stays dominant.” Corey said.

“The Undisputed Tag Team Champions are unstoppable! The Usos have just put another team to the test — and passed with flying colors.” Michael commented.

As the Usos continue to celebrate in the ring, raising their ones. Roman Reigns made his way out of gorilla raising his Universal Championship from the ramp, signaling that The Bloodline remains at the top of the WWE.

“This is a statement, folks. The Bloodline is stronger than ever, and they’re sending a message to the entire roster: no one is safe from the dominance of Roman Reigns, the Usos, and The Bloodline.” Corey commented a pyro went off in the background.

Later that evening, after their match had ended, you Jimmy and Jey celebrated with each other before Jimmy drove you back to your hotel, Jey being in the back while you were in the passenger seat. The air was cool, the night quiet, and your thoughts were a little less jumbled now. They’re still there, though—the whispers of insecurity, the doubts in the back of your mind. But with Jimmy and Jey by your side, it felt a lot more manageable.

Upon arriving at the hotel and checking in, you three made your way to the elevators before heading to your hotel room. As you all entered the hotel room, and the tension that had been building all day suddenly melted away under the cool air. It was like just being in the presence of Jimmy and Jey took away all your worries, stress, and doubts you had been having. You found a spot on the bed plopping down with a sigh.

“Listen,” Jimmy says, sitting down beside you on the bed, “we know whatchu been going through. Yesterday. Today. We’ve been there. But you beautiful, inside and out. We not just sayin’ that to make you feel better. We sayin’ it because it’s the truth.”

Jey nods in agreement, his voice soft. “You got heart, and a body that’s built for greatness. You just have to see it, babygirl. Nobody else matters.”

You swallow hard, still feeling like something’s missing. “I don’t know… I just felt like I’d never be enough.” Still unsure, you looked down at your hands before seeing bigger and strong hands place themselves into yours. It was Jimmy. “You’re more than enough. Especially to us, so tonight instead of moping. Maybe we can do something that will take your mind off everything.” Jimmy’s hands gently lift your chin so you’re looking into his eyes. “We want to show you how beautiful you are, to us, to everyone who sees you.”

Jey’s touch was just as gentle, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned closer to your ear. “This about you, babygirl. No pressure, no rush. We’ll be patient with you. Only if you’re ready, though.”

Your heart pounds, and the nervousness was almost overwhelming. This would be your first time experiencing something so intimate, and the thought of it sent a wave of butterflies through your stomach.

“A-Alright.”You said attempting to soothe your nerves before Jimmy and Jey went quiet exchanging glances to one another. With the two of them being twins, they had that telepathic connection that only they understood. The seconds felt like minutes before Jimmy looked back at you. “Listen, tonight will be all about you. So try and relax and just let us take care of you. Plus with that win we both got, we still not done celebratin’” he flashed a smile, those white teeth lined up perfectly with his intentions and before you knew it he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

You were initially in shock, so much you tensed up but then there was Jey to calm you down. While Jey was the more aggressive of the two in the ring, right now, he was being just as gentle as Jimmy was. Not only did your muscles slowly retract, your worries were gone and your thoughts just went blank. Jey started on your neck his hands rubbing your shoulders before giving you a gentle massage. The attention from them both had you going from thunderstruck to being curious and wanting to take it further.

But Jimmy and Jey took their time, making sure you were comfortable every step of the way. They guided you slowly and gently, showing you that your beauty wasn’t just on the outside, but in the way they care for you, in the way they made sure you felt loved, respected, and valued.

Jimmy’s tongue gently slid over your bottom lip asking you for permission before he slowly collided his tongue with yours the moment you opened your mouth. You weren’t new to what sex and kissing was, it was just the very first time you were doing it. Let alone with two men. Jey was the first to gently slide his hands up your shirt and toss it to the floor as Jimmy slowly pulled away and removed your shoes and pants tossing them somewhere in the room.

Jey unclasped your bra, Jimmy taking it into his hands before tossing that too. The younger twin then made his way from behind you gently guiding you further down onto the bed before you felt your back hit the soft covers of the bed before replacing Jimmy’s lips with his own. His kiss was slightly rougher but you wanted to explore him too, the taste of metal from his golden grills that sat on his bottom teeth…you couldn’t get enough of it. Your tongue moved over his as a moan escaped your lips and your hand instinctively made its way through Jimmy’s hair as you realized he was attacking your nipples with that skilled tongue of his.

Having the both of them was like a dream come true, they both knew what they wanted…no who they wanted and it was you. Jey’s hands slowly made their way down your stomach and into your black panties, his fingers gliding over your clit as he deepened the kiss. Your hips slightly raised as he began to move his fingers around in small circles causing you to moan from the friction and the pleasure. The tent in Jimmy’s pants grew but he was more than willing to wait knowing this was your first time and he wanted to savour every moment just as much as you did. He slowly removed your panties before rubbing his hands up and down your legs before kissing down your stomach and towards your inner thighs just above your entrance. Jey’s hands snaked their way back up to your sides beginning to knead your breasts as Jimmy left a few soft kisses there before starting to stare at your entrance spreading your legs apart slowly as his mouth found its way to your folds, his tongue slowly dragging upwards to your clit swirling his tongue around it before wrapping his arms around your legs. The faster his tongue moved, the more your legs shook and the louder your moans became. Jey stayed beside you the entire time but just as you closed your eyes, the sound of his voice made you snap them open. “Look at me with them pretty ass eyes ma, don’t close em.” He said as he left soft kisses down your neck. “And if you can’t, look at my brother.” He said before stopping just above your nipple before taking it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

The double stimulation was driving you crazy especially since they were both using their tongues on different parts of your body, but those parts had the same amount of sensitivity which was even worse for you but better for them based on how much you were squirming and moaning. You looked down at Jimmy gripping his hair into your hands, and realizing he was staring at you, those soft yet hungry eyes. My god you loved them. “I-I’m gonna c-cum! F-Fuck, Jimmy!” you moaned out before suddenly bucking your hips and releasing all over his mouth as your legs trembled. He slowly pulled away loving how he had you shaking for him before he and Jey completely undressed themselves in front of you, after Jey had also pulled away from your nipples. Your eyes immediately went to both of their dicks, observing them thoroughly. You had almost forgot that it would be your first time for a second but the thought of it and the size of them made you second guess yourself for a moment. Jey was long for sure but his also had a little more girth than Jimmy’s. It looked thick and pre cum had been leaking from the tip, presumably from the activities that took place. Jimmy on the other hand, his girth was slightly less than Jey’s but his length made up for every bit of it. God damn. He was also leaking pre cum and looked heavy.

“Now babygirl, we can stop anytime. We know this yo first time doin’ this and we do not wanna hurt you. In fact if you feel like you need to stop at any point, tell us your safe word and we will immediately stop what we doin’. Don’t matter what it is.” Jimmy said before Jey also chimed in.

“Nah f’real though, no matter how good shit feels, if you hurtin’, not comfortable, or just can’t take it, we will stop.”

“M-My safe word is Red.” You said prompting a nod from them, slowly sitting up as you spoke. “We gon go slow since it’s your first time okay?” Jimmy questioned before starting to rub his length with his hand before commanding you with a soft turn. “Alright babygirl, turn around for me.” He said before placing one knee on the bed and having his other leg off of it starting to slowly rub his length against your wet entrance getting a feel of it, the moment you turned around. “Ready?”

“Y-Yes” you said as you felt your walls slowly expand before you felt a stinging sensation causing you to wince and Jimmy to instantly stop. “You good?” He asked and you immediately said yes not wanting this to stop. You were already this far and you felt like since this was your first time, it would hurt regardless because you’d never done it. But you trusted the Usos and knew they’d never hurt you. “Y-Yes, keep g-going” you commanded before feeling your walls expand even further, your lower half feeling more full by the second as Jimmy’s dragged out moans and curses could be heard behind you.

“Damn, so tight baby but you taking me so well mmm” he let out a grunt at the end before pulling out and slamming back into you from behind causing the stinging pain that was once there to slowly subside as your walls felt a bit numb at first before being overtaken by nothing but pleasure. Things started off slow, before starting to heat up. Jimmy was plowing you from behind and Jey has his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it while lifting your chin slowly. “You don’t gotta shy away from us babygirl, we wanna see all the expressions you finna make.” He said gently petting your face causing it to heat up and make you give an attempt at looking away. “Uh uh, what I say?” Jey still held your chin firm in his free hand before Jimmy chimed in.

“What I tell you bout that confidence mama? Huh?” He said before smacking your ass once and gripping the skin as he pounded you from behind causing you to suddenly let out a loud moan and look up at Jey. “You being so good f’us right now, you know that?” He grunted, his voice low in your ear. “I told you we was gonna treat you tonight didn’t I?” He said slamming his cock in and out of you. You were too stunned to even speak, you couldn’t do anything but let them and the neighbors you three had on both sides of you, know how much pleasure your were receiving. That was until Jey decided that your mouth looked a little too good when it was open, prompting him to fill it with his dick. “That’s right take it all in, ma” he said before throwing his head back as he ran his hands through your ponytail.

Your body was starting to get overstimulated a bit, not use to any of this, but your pussy yearned for more and your mouth only opened a bit wider, prompting Jey to sink his cock further towards your throat. Your moans moved Jey as he began to bob your head, while pushing forward. “That’s right, mhmm” he growled out before looking back at you. His eyes, you wanted to keep eye contact so bad but at the same time, Jey’s stare was different from Jimmy’s. Jimmy’s stare was soft but hungry, like he knew what you needed and was determined to give it to you. Jey’s stare was more intense and seductive, his was also hungry but with how dark his eyes got, it was like he commanded the attention so you couldn’t look away.

Your pussy was throbbing from being drilled by Jimmy and your mouth was salivating all over Jey’s length as he praised you for it. “God damn babygirl, you squeezin’ me tight as hell, you want me to let it out in you huh?” He said before biting his lip showing his top set of teeth. “Mmmphhhff!” You moaned out on Jey’s cock, sending vibrations down the younger twins length. Your orgasm had been building and your legs were shaking below you but you tried so hard to control your release, however, you were too sensitive. So sensitive that Jimmy decided to test the waters and reach down to rub your clit anyway knowing this while giving you back shots. You couldn’t take it as your eyes rolled back and your juices spilled all over his cock. Your body tensed up as your lower body shook, your orgasm ripping through you from the amount of pleasure you were receiving. Jimmy wasn’t far behind you, you could tell by how much his dick twitched….until he let it out inside of you and moaned in your ear. Your vibrations from the moans you let out were even enough to send Jey over the edge too as he gripped your ponytail and pushed his hips forward, a salty white liquid making its way down your throat as you swallowed.

As all three of you calmed down from your highs, they both pulled out before Jey pulled you close to him kissing you deeply, the aftertaste of him still being on your tongue. But you loved how Jey tasted and that wasn’t stopping you from colliding your tongue with his as he laid down on the bed, pulling your body on top of his, positioning you to where you were now in front of Jimmy’s cock. “Hey babygirl” he said as you pulled away from the kiss and looked up at him to see him stroking his length. If this was a dream, you’d never wanna wake up. Jey had slowly positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing into you for a moment before lowering you down on the rest of his length letting a soft moan slip from his lips.

Jimmy on the other hand pushed his length into your moan holding your ponytail loving how nicely your jaws were wrapped around him. “Eat that up f’me” he whispered before groaning and beginning to thrust his hips forward. Your eyes continued looking up into Jimmy’s as Jey held your hips and began thrusting up wards, his head being just under your breasts watching as they moved back and forth.

Jimmy’s cock was so long it didn’t take much of it before you started gagging once as you felt the tip reach your uvula. You gagged but kept it in your mouth, sucking on it anyway getting your own aftertaste on your tongue in the process but none of that mattered. Not when it came to them. Jey on the other hand gripped your ass with precision before slamming his cock up into you loving how your walls would stretch each time. He could feel every bit of it and that’s the way he wanted it because he wanted you. They both did and they were both getting their way right now.

Your hands wrapped themselves around the part of Jimmy you didn’t have in your mouth as you started to move it back and forth, earning a strained moan from him causing his head to roll back. Jimmy could only grip your ponytail tighter as the sounds of your slurping and your moans from what was happening below, was driving him crazy. You started to bob your own head, increasing your speed as it combined with Jimmy already pulling you forward and moving his hips forward at the same time. “Fuck mannn” he let out as Jey noticed how your walls were clenching onto him further.

“You gon cream on me huh? Go head ma, let me know how much you love this f’real” he said thrusting up into you harder causing your walls to expand further and further each time his dick plowed into you. But Jey he felt that orgasm building and he felt how your walls would expand and suddenly clenching around him each time he would hit that spot. “You like it when I hit that huh? Use them words babygirl” he said knowing how close you were, purposely hitting your g spot over and over again.

“Mhmmm!! R-Ri’ dereee!” You screamed out against Jimmy’s cock as your legs shook and eventually buckled feeling the orgasm you were chasing suddenly crashing into you like a truck. Your entire body, especially your legs could do nothing but jerk as your voice fought to catch up with your breath. Jey could only groan feeling your juices leak all over his cock, causing his cock to twitch. “God damn, babygirl you feel that shit huh? So good f’ me, you deserve a reward don’tchu?” Your eyes were rolled back as your body was still attempting to get over your first orgasm. “Mmhmmpf!!” That last vibration you gave to Jimmy sent him to the moon, his breath became shaky as you felt that warm white liquid pool in your mouth. That salty taste being apart of Jimmy combined with the realization that Jey hadn’t came yet m made your pussy drip even more. Having your mouth full of Jimmy’s dick while being plowed by his twin brother below you made your mind a blank canvas. You only cared that you got what you wanted, and that was Jey’s reward. Whatever it was. Even if it was him painting your inner walls white, you wanted every bit of it. With one last bounce, Jey emptied himself inside of you, leaning his head back as he did. Your moans mixed with his as you felt your insides warm up from his seed. You slowly pulled off of Jimmy’s cock with a soft pop just as Jey lifted you up off his cock after a moment as his cock retracted still being hard from the events that just took place.

Jey didn’t let go of you yet though, his hands still wrapped around your waist as he pulled you down toward his chest attempting to catch his breath. He began placing soft tender kisses on your forehead and cheeks before gently wrapping his free hand around your cheeks. “You did well f’real and you’re beautiful as fuck. Ight, anytime you think you not. We gon remind you of this, and it might not be just talking bout it either.” He commented before gently laying you in between him and Jimmy who crawled on the bed beside you and Jey still panting slightly.

“Yup and remember what we said bout that confidence. It’s in them eyes too” he said winking at you. He was so playful like he wasn’t just dicking you down a second ago, damn you Jimmy.

After the tenderness and care, as you lay together, the room quiet and peaceful, Jimmy and Jey make sure you feel completely comfortable, taking the time to pamper you. They held you close, kissing your forehead, stroking your hair as they whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“Sleep well, babygirl,” Jey says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You more than enough, just remember that. You perfect the way you are.”

Jimmy pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around you. “We gotchu, sweetheart. Know that.”

As you drift off to sleep, surrounded by their warmth and protection, the insecurities begin to fade away, replaced with a newfound sense of self-love and acceptance.

Fin❦

Note: Whewww y’all this was a wild ride but thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you like it♥️

Divider credits: @anitalenia & @enchanthings

Taglist: @punksyeet, @binnieaddict, @sheaabuttaababyy, @mselenalovebug, @empressdede, @luvrsluxe, @uceyliyahh, @partypoison00

[whisper-cats]

Hellooooo! I’m working on a clangen blog of my own, so I’m going around asking my favorite clangen blogs some questions. I’m happy to get answers to whichever you feel like answering (or none at all if you don’t feel like it!)

What program and file size do you use?

If you use a font, what font is it?

How far ahead do you recommend playing?

Do you have any advice for layouts?

Do you have any tips for lighting/drawing fur?

Do you have any tips for making cats look more unique?

If you do backgrounds, do you have any advice for creating them?

If you use them, where do you recommend finding reference images?

hi hi! Thank you for the questions 1. Clip Studio Paint, my comic pages' size is 1600x2900 pixels when I'm working on it, but that includes empty space on the sides where my lines can go over the limits when needed

2. "HP Simplified Hans Regular"... I sort of want to hand-write all of my text tbh, but I thought I shouldn't make things too energy-intensive for myself

3. Depends what you want the structure of your story to be like. For me the important part was the setting that was generated for me so the moons going forward & the brisk pace that that gives you have less importance for my story than they would for most Clangen stories, and therefore I didn't go very far in the moons before I started sketching down pages

4. nah, i'm a newbie on that

5. can't think of anything, sorry

6. I think looking for uniqueness itself can be kind of a trap, and i think it's most important your characters are distinct from their surrounding cast of characters than them looking unique when looking at the wider art community. Any kind of design can be recognizable if it makes an impact. I think using patterning especially can be something people might fall back on too easily to make characters distinct. These are the other ways I like to try make a cat character recognizable and interesting (among their cast): - Experiment with different, even subtly different whiskers, ear sizes and shapes, fur texture (sleek, puffy, curly, spiky, flowy etc) and where that fur might be most prominent in each character (one fluffy cat might have a huge puffy chest fur, another long hair cat might have their long coat look more heavy and pulled by gravity, another cat might have the puffiest tail but less in the chest, etc). Also of course the usual, like different eye and nose shapes. - Use color contrast to make the character demand more attention to itself. If a cat has a big white patch on their face when the rest of their body is dark, it immediately brings your attention to their face. I often like to play up and heighten the contrast of a warm-toned body against cool-toned eyes like Whisperingpaw's reddish body against his deep blue eyes, but it works just as well in reverse or with other color contrasts. This can be muddied though if the design is full of highly contrasting small elements in unimportant places of the body which instead can just become confusing to the eye. It's why I don't really like designs from for example Genshin Impact

^ Whisperingpaw, I even made his grey pawpads more cooltoned than usual for some extra contrasting details - Try designing two characters at once instead of one at a time. When you design two at once, especially if they have some connection to each other, you can already start laying out some opposing or just different physical traits to them. If you make a huge cat next to a small cat, both of their sizes are immediately noticeable traits about the cats that you can perceive and build on. If you only drew one huge or one small cat, you might not really even register their size as part of their design because there is nothing to compare it to. Let their relationship & direct comparison be something that contextualizes them and gives them something more than an empty paper to relate to - Continuing on the "let the characters have something to compare to", a character will always look more beautiful if they are surrounded by more bland or even "ugly" characters. A character's intricate patterns will be more noticeable if surrounded by very simple-style characters. Use this to your advantage and let things like beauty or cuteness be character-specific traits instead of something expected of each design. This is just another benefit to having a diverse cast, it doesn't just give representation to less charismatic styles of characters (which already has so much value by itself), it lets the "beautiful" designs be more convincing to the eye.

for 7. and 8. i don't have an answer to!

Hope that helps :3

[nelcorecreations]

⭐️Seduce me the otome: Hold Me AU Redesigns!⭐️

First post here on tumblr with more thoughts then just “huhuhu look i art pretty?” Hoping to develop this AU for this old ass fandom I’ve been apart of for like AGES. This AU is called Hold Me Like I Matter. And follows the Twin sisters Rika and Mika. Rika is definitely more of the main character just for a different perspective and personality. But Mika is still here! Just more of a supporting character for the time being, but I do plan to write a fic dedicated to her as well. Hold me Like I Matter is focused on Rika though. So mostly you’ll see me talking about her. Another thing this is a full AU facts, lore and backstories ARE different if a little similar. But fundamentally this is a different world. Thus the visual novel aspect of the game is not present and is written as if it is a novel. So there are no multiple love interests only one. The main love interest for this story? Matthew!

Now onto the Boys and there redesigns! For the most part I’m happy with all of these so you won’t see many details change. But let’s talk about each redesign even if it’s only a little bit and why I choose the things I did. And as a general note! I added red/pink in there eyes and gave them all various levels of freckles to show they are related despite being half siblings. There dad has red eyes and freckles.

Erik

Pretty simple, just made him more fashionable and less like a James look alike. At least in his clothes. Gave him an undercut cuz I feel it just fits him somehow. I myself am not the best clothes designer so his clothes are simple. But I feel for casual comfort it still works. And still shows off his more dramatic side if more subdued.

James

Gave him a sweater instead, but still kept his book/proper aesthetic.

Sam

So Sams design is more close to his OG, just gave him cargo pants and got rid of his shirt. There is a lore reason for this! Because he is more brute demon he runs automatically hotter. The more angry brute demons are or the more rage they have festering the hotter there bodies get. Which can cause them ti set things on fire when they touch something or melt through walls. This heat is controllable but typically most brutes like to have little to no clothing since usually there skin is already rock hard. Sam is fine literally no matter what the weather is. He can go shirtless in the snow and it will be an average temp to him. So he needs clothes a lot less then his brothers due. Tho they all still have this same trait. The angrier they are the hotter they get.

Mathew

He hates shoes? No he wares flip flops or slides so he can take them off easier but still wares them when he goes out and about. Pretty much the same otherwise gave him black skeleton sweats instead of jeans. And some buttons on his hoodie to represent his brothers.

Damien

More or less the same, gave him a longer coat. Kept the white pants, his eyes are brown rather than purple-blue. And he has naturally black hair! A trait that I stole from @new-tella-us ‘s Damien design! He dyes his hair the same color as Erik’s to look more like his brother. For several traumatic reasons that I feel anyone reading this may understand.

Rika & Mika

They are Twins! But as they got older Rika got taller while Mika stayed more or less the same height she was in high school. Rika looks more tried for manny MANNY reasons. And tends to not ware makeup. Mika dose so she can easily hide any eyebags better then her sister. Rika keeps her hair long and simply shampooed and brushed while Mika curls her hair slightly. It’s still obvious they are twins. They sound the same just with different tones. And they have the same face and eye shape, just due to Rika tiredness her eyes are more half lidded looking.

And that’s everyone! I hope to share them more and there story! Feel free to ask me any questions you may have. ✨Ask Box is open✨

[itsnesss]

Do you write for nam gyu?

𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 | nam-gyu (player 124) × fem!reader

summary | amid the chaos of squid game, Nam-gyu shows his softer side only to you, offering rare moments of comfort before the next deadly challenge

warnings | fluff, mentions of violence, survival themes

word count | 1.8 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The atmosphere in the room is tense, weighed down by distrustful glances and the echo of orders barked by emotionless guards. But you've learned to make yourself small, to find spaces where the air feels a little lighter, even if just for brief moments.

Tonight, the dimmest corner of the makeshift dormitory is your refuge. Your back rests against the cold wall as your thoughts drift between distant memories and the uncertainty of tomorrow’s game. You have no idea what new horrors they’ve prepared, but the constant threat of not waking up the next day keeps you on edge.

“Are you hiding again?”

Nam-gyu’s familiar voice cuts through your thoughts like a sharp blade, but there’s something in his tone that makes you smile despite it all. You turn your head to see him approaching, hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform, an expression that mixes boredom with curiosity.

“Aren’t you doing the same?” you reply.

“I don’t hide,” he says, letting his weight fall beside you. “I’m just taking a break from the circus of idiots in there.”

You let out a small laugh, though you know he’s not entirely joking. Nam-gyu has no problem making it clear how little he cares for the other players. His sarcastic, sometimes cruel attitude keeps almost everyone at a distance.

“Sometimes I think you enjoy being the villain,” you tease, half-joking, half-serious.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe. But you seem to be the only one who’s not afraid of me.”

“Maybe because I know you’re not as bad as you want people to believe,” you say confidently.

Nam-gyu doesn’t reply right away. The silence stretches between you, comfortable, almost soothing.

“Do you think tomorrow’s game will be worse than today’s?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

“Probably,” he admits bluntly. “They always find a way to tighten the noose.”

His words should scare you, but instead, there’s something oddly reassuring about his brutal honesty.

“Did you ever think you’d end up in a place like this?”

Nam-gyu lets out a bitter laugh.

“Suppose so. When you make enough wrong choices, you end up in places like this.”

The honesty in his words surprises you. It’s rare for him to show anything beyond his arrogant front.

“What about you?” he suddenly asks, his tone softer than usual. “How does a girl like you end up here?”

“Debts,” you reply bluntly. “Not too different from most people here, I guess.”

Nam-gyu nods, understanding without needing more details.

“Look, I’m not good at this whole ‘being nice’ thing,” he admits, “but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that surviving doesn’t have to be a solo game.”

You look at him, surprised by the unexpected confession.

“Is that your way of saying we’re a team?”

He lets out a dry laugh.

“Guess so. Just don’t expect me to be nice to the rest of those idiots...”

As days pass, Nam-gyu remains an asshole to nearly everyone — except you. While he snaps at or ignores the other players, he’s surprisingly tolerant, even protective, when it comes to you.

One afternoon, when another player tries to intimidate you, Nam-gyu steps in without a second thought.

“If you’ve got a problem with her, then you’ve got a problem with me,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

The other man quickly backs off, making it clear no one wants to cross Nam-gyu.

When you return to your corner, Nam-gyu follows, his expression still hard.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say softly.

“Yes, I did,” he responds without hesitation. “I won’t let anyone touch you.”

Time seems to freeze for a moment. You know his defiant attitude puts him at risk, but the way he stands by you, regardless of the consequences, fills you with something close to hope.

That night, the tension in the room eases a little. The players, exhausted by the constant struggle, finally drift into restless sleep. You and Nam-gyu sit together, your shoulders nearly touching.

“You know, when we get out of here,” you begin, “we should go dancing.”

He lets out a genuine laugh, something rare and precious in this grim place.

“Dancing? You and me?”

“Sure. You said you hate dancing, but I think you might surprise me.”

“Don’t expect miracles,” he says, but there’s a spark in his eyes you can’t ignore.

“And you? Do you imagine anything after all this?” you ask softly, lowering your voice as if afraid to break the fragile moment.

“Never thought I’d live long enough to imagine it,” Nam-gyu admits. “But... maybe with you, I can.”

His blunt sincerity makes your chest tighten. You know nothing is guaranteed, not even making it to sunrise, but in this dark corner, the two of you find a fleeting sanctuary.

And though the uncertainty of tomorrow’s game still looms, here, next to Nam-gyu, a small breath of relief feels possible.

[district4loading]

In The Morning (WLW)

Gidle Minnie!Sub x Female Reader!Dom

3K Words

Content Warning: Smut, fluff

Minors DNI

A/N: I made this request short, simple, fluffy and straight to the point. Please enjoy!!

I enjoyed writing this one because it was sooo cute. I also really liked Minnies solo song that came out a few days ago and i'm excited for the album!!!

The Request: "heyyyy not sure if ure in such stage to consider writing for gidle’s minnie but if u are, can i request soft morning sex with top fem reader"

-

You're not done with her yet though, how could you ever be? 

-

You're not a morning person.

Or at least you weren't, until you started living with her. The girl of your dreams, Nicha Yontararak—Minnie for short. Being with her has changed you in many different ways but the most notable shift has been how you've come to love the mornings. 

It wasn't some big revelation that got you there, nor was it a sudden change of heart. It was Minnie. Waking up to see her beautiful—nearly perfect—face sleeping peacefully next to you has become your most favorite thing. It was almost like a guilty pleasure of yours to just watch silently as she slept. You usually woke up early around six and normally you'd go right back to sleep because there was never any good reason to stay up. 

Now there was.

You're doing it again, watching her sleep. It's a little bit earlier, maybe five-thirty-ish and the sun's just barely peaking out above the horizon. Just enough so you can see her face clearly in the light peering through the curtains. You find yourself smiling, silently wondering how on earth you ever got so lucky. To have someone so stunning in your bed, breathing slowly and softly in her slumber. 

There's this thing you do often when mornings like these come, sometimes you reach your hand out to caress her soft cheek ever so slightly and sure not to wake her. It's cause you need to make sure she's real, that this isn't some crazy lucid dream you're living in. Which might seem silly to any ordinary person but when you admire someone this much, a lot of the things you do become a bit illogical.

This time, you let yourself get a little too carried away and you end up dragging your fingertips along her jawline. In that same second you regret it because she takes a deep breath and then her eyes open. She blinks a bit, moving to wipe the sleep out of her eyes as she stretches her legs "Good morning pretty girl" She says it with her hoarse morning voice and you can't control the smile that spreads across your face when you hear it.

"Good morning beautiful, go back to sleep I didn't mean to wake you" You mutter, wanting to watch her some more.

"Were you watching me sleep again?" She grins, looking at you like you're the only girl in the world, just pure adoration in her eyes along with that genuine smile of hers. 

"Maybe" You shrug "You should go back to sleep"

Minnie turns her head to look at the digital clock

Five-Fifty PM

"You know.." She mutters, getting up to straddle your hips so you're forced to go from laying on your side to laying on your back, looking up into her eyes. "You can still admire me while I'm awake" She winks, her tone suggestive. 

Before you even get the chance to tell her how cute you thought her little wink was, she leans down and connects your lips. Everything immediately goes slow motion when you feel her plump lips on yours. She kisses you slowly and thoroughly, with a sort of heated passion and no hesitation to stick her tongue in your mouth.

You don't mind it at all, you could make out with Minnie forever. She hums softly, cupping both of your cheeks with her slender hands, fingers pressing deeply into your skin. "I love you" You pant, when she pulls away.

"I love you more, baby" She leaves a peck on your lips before she sits up. You hadn't even noticed that your hands had gravitated to her waist until you saw that she was pulling her tank top off.

"Babe, it's five in the morning" You nod your head to the clock as her top falls somewhere to the side of the bed. 

Her breasts come free and you can't help but stare at how perfect they look in the warm sunlight. "Six" She corrects, tugging at your t-shirt. You smirk, then you lift yourself up to take it off and you're only left in your bra and a pair of shorts. 

You sit up, positioning Minnie perfectly in your lap "Morning sex it is then" You mutter, pecking her lips, then her cheek and all the way to her jawline. You litter your kisses everywhere, slowly down to her neck where you leave a few red marks. She moans softly, and it's like music to your ears, something only you have the privilege of hearing.

When you make it to her collarbone, your left hand comes up to massage her right breast, you cup and massage the soft flesh because it fits so perfectly in your hand. "Babe" She whines when you dip your head down to take her left nipple between your lips. You spend some time there just worshipping her perfect tits. You hum, letting your tongue circle around her areola, then you flick it over the sensitive bud once then twice. "Please"

"Please what princess?" You don't just call her that, you genuinely believe it. Maybe in some other life or in an alternate universe she's royalty and somehow by the grace of God in this life you managed to pull her. 

Your hand slides down her shorts and underneath her panties, like you expected, she's soaked. "Just—Yes!" She moans and you didn't even do much, you really only put a little pressure and her hips are already bucking into yours. 

"Help me get these off" You mutter softly as you pull on her bottoms because you need her flawless body fully naked for you. She nods when you slip your other hand out of her shorts and she shuffles a bit to get them off. When she's ready, she sits back down on your lap and she hovers a bit. You slide your hand down her silky smooth waist and between her legs to palm her cunt. "What do you want?"

The question slips off your tongue so gently as you kiss along her shoulders. You breathe in and out audibly, taking in her delightful natural scent. "Ah—fuck" She whimpers, hips jutting forwards when you slowly rub your hand in circles. You do it on purpose so you can hear her struggling as she begs you to do something to her. "I want... I want your fingers inside... pl-please" 

You lick over the now purple marks on Minnie's neck "I think I wanna watch you ride my fingers, darling" You sigh, sliding two fingers up and down her drenched slit. "You'll do that for me, yeah?"

She nods frantically, hips moving on their own as you tease her. It doesn't last long though, because you slip the two fingers in so easy into her tight, wet warmth and she doesn't waste time to get them as deep as they can go when she closes the gap. There's a pleasureful sigh that escapes her lips when she feels the stretch of your digits and you pull your head back so you can watch the full show. "Go ahead princess, show me" You encourage. 

Minnie has to first get a good grip on your shoulders, then she rolls her hips forwards and a choked moan escapes her lips. "Fuck" she curses, then she continues, getting herself in a good rhythm. You watch almost in awe as she tires her best to get off on your fingers. Her petite breasts bounce with each movement of her hips, you watch in real time as she begins to break a sweat, her skin becoming sleek as it shines in the sunlight.

The view is just perfect, you can only hold her waist with your free hand lightly, not guiding her because she knows what she's doing. Her facial expressions are the best, the way her brows furrow, how she goes from letting her mouth hang open to biting her bottom lip as a way to try and control every sweet sound that escapes her lips. "You're doing so well baby" You just watch, almost mesmerized as you stare into each others eyes. "So fucking pretty.." You're almost at a loss for any other words.

You can hear it now, how wet you have her on each drag up and down. It's a little quieter than her moans and whimpers so you reach your hand up, finger over her mouth "Shh, listen" She holds in whatever she's able to and you can hear it clearer now "You hear how wet you are for me babe?" You ask, she only nods her head, unable to say any other words because it feels too good.

She starts clenching because she gets off on that, hearing the sounds of her own arousal and how sloppy you've got her. You end up moving your finger from her lips and you just stare into her begging eyes. "So beautiful.. I love you"

"I- I love you too" She says before leaning into your body. You allow her to bury her face into your neck, her legs nearly trembling with each roll of her hips "I-It feels sooo good" She moans, her eyes clamping shut.

"I know baby" You assure, rubbing her back in slow circles, "Such a good girl for me, you deserve everything" You kiss her shoulder, tasting the sweat she's built up there. 

"I'm close" She whimpers and you begin to help her, fucking your fingers into her throbbing cunt to meet her hips. She keeps moving, her hips fast and her moans going higher and higher in pitch. She's right there "Please... can I?" She asks you as if you could ever tell her no when she's been so good for you and she's whimpering in your ear with that pretty voice of hers.

"Cum whenever you want" You nod, then almost immediately a strangled moan forces it's way through her throat then she goes silent. You keep fucking her as her hips begin to move messily in their own way, stuttering and stopping back and forth. "There you go" You grunt, feeling your arm begin to burn as she begins to choke on her own words. Then she begins moaning again, so beautifully as she works through her orgasm.

"Thank you" She pants, swallowing thickly as she allows her bodyweight to rest on you. You slip your fingers out of her cunt, then you hold her running your other hand through her damp hair.

You're not done with her yet though, how could you ever be? 

When she's caught her breath, you turn her over so she's on her back, looking up at you with her tired eyes. She hums as you get yourself between her legs "You did such a good job, babe" You kiss her lips, but this time she struggles with kissing back. You don't mind it though, you only move to her neck "Need to taste you" You mutter, shuffling your way down so that your head is between her legs.

"Yes please" She bites her lip, then she props herself up on her elbows to make eye-contact. She's staring at you like she wants it so bad and she doesn't even need to tell you because you know how to read her.

You know her

When you're face to face with it, you hold back your urge to just go for it right then and there. First you wrap your hands around each of her thighs. They're so plump and perfect. You squeeze, letting your fingers press against her warm flesh. Minnie whimpers, carefully following you with her eyes. 

You keep the eye contact, slowly moving your head to the left, attaching your mouth to her inner thigh. First you lick it, then you kiss it and you begin sucking and biting on the supple flesh. You end up leaving more marks scattered there before you move on to the next thigh but it's more than just teasing to you. When you leave all these wonderful blemishes on her body, it's like you're leaving a reminder. Every time she sees herself in the mirror, she'll see those wonderful red and purple marks and she'll think about you and the way you made her feel.

After spending so much time leaving hickeys on Minnie's body, she's just about ready for you to get started. She's stayed silent this whole time though, allowing you to have your way as she waits patiently for you to get to where she needed you the most. You note that her eyes are glossed over and it's telling that she needs you so badly that she can't even put it into words.

So when you stick your tongue out and you flatten it on her clit she gasps, then chokes "Thank you" A meek whimper follows her surprise. "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you" She repeats over again because she's so grateful to finally have your mouth where she's needed it for the past few minutes. 

You hum in response, sending vibrations through her body as you start lapping up all the wetness on her cunt. The taste is pungent, a perfect balance of sweet and salty and you've become almost addicted to it by now. Her hips squirm cause maybe she's a little too sensitive for this right now but you hold her down, shoving your face deeper as you lick her up. "Fuck babyyy" She whines, dragging out the last word "So good" She throws her head back a moment allowing you to see the perfect curve of her neck, littered with the marks you left earlier.

Minnie's a complete mess right now, hair messy, body all flushed and sweaty while her face contorts several different ways with each damning flick of your tongue. "God" She almost groans, biting her own tongue when you take her swollen clit in between your lips. You start sucking, putting your jaw to good use as she blabs praises of how good you're doing.

"I fucking love you" Her back arches, then falls in the same instance. So sensitive—you think to yourself bringing your fingers up to slip them inside of her without warning. "Fuck!" She moans, legs threatening to shut when she feels the familiar stretch of your slender fingers curling so deep inside of her. "Come here!" She pleads, moans becoming louder and more frantic.

You pull your mouth off of her, fingers still buried in her cunt as you move up to latch your lips onto hers. She pulls your body onto yours and she kisses you deeply, eyes closed as you take her to cloud nine "I... love... you" You murmur onto her lips as you pound your fingers into her. She's close already and you're more than ready to take her over the edge.

Minnie breaks the kiss "Baby.. I-I'm" She warns.

"Yeah, cum for me again babe" You nod, then a loud almost scream-like moan tears through her lips.

"Oh my god!" She cries, most likely disturbing the neighbors on this eventful morning. You could really care less though because you're doing what you were made to do. Your duty in life, its never been so clear—to satisfy this perfect woman under you. To make her happier than ever, to make her scream your name as she cums for you over and over again. No doubt she'll do it again tomorrow, and the day after that.

(and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that, until there aren't any more days left)

She wraps her arms tightly around you as you slow your fingers to a stop. You slip them out, then you bring them to her lips. Her eyes are shut because she's in this state of utter bliss but she still parts those perfect lips of hers to take your digits into her mouth. Her tongue licks off every bit of slick it was coated in. Then you pull them out and you kiss her lips. "Good morning to me" She mutters with a deep breath.

"Maybe we should go back to sleep, I don't wanna move" She whines the last part, holding you close to her when she feels you about to move 

"Yeah, we can start the day later... maybe at two" You yawn

Minnie giggles "Not that late"

"Come on, you know i'm not a morning person"

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Pineyyyyy,

I'm asking for the masses: please bless us with your writing process! How do you perfect these wonderful fics?

Thank you so much for asking Zae! 💞

As my writing process is a little chaotic and not very disciplined, I'll try to gather some advice and a rough timeline of what I do and how!

I think you'll already know most of those tips Zae, considering how incredible your writing already is! I hope this will still be helpful! Also forgive me because this is going to be long and detailed (I'm hopeless).

To everyone reading this, please keep in mind that I do not claim to have a perfect recipe for writing things that will make everything absolutely incredible (first of all, I do not think my work is perfect—far from it—and it's important for you that your writing process stays fun and comfortable!). This list is about things that work for me, but you have to find what works for you!!

NON-WRITING STUFF

Before writing: I love to set myself in the mood. As I don't have much free time my dedicated writing time has become a sort of sacred moment and I have my rituals (I put up the holy combo music+a good teapot of tea+Frankincense)

Music is a HUGE part of my writing process. As you and the amazing @/redwritr have already told me (thanks again both of you this is the best compliment ever<3), my writing sounds like music and I think this is also why. (Typical example for Fantasies II: I listened to Mother Mother's - "Body" in a loop to write the desperation moment. Maybe it's just me being too suggestible, but the pace and tone of a music piece totally guide me while writing).

I use Google Docs (on dark mode lol) to write, always. I know it's not super original and I regret not being able to put a nice background or typing sounds like ZenWriter allows you to for example, but it is the most convenient for me because I can carry my WIPs everywhere through my phone or laptop (plus it has the autosave, thinking about your writing curse LMAO).

THE WRITING ITSELF - what I do very factually and in what order.

I start by writing absolutely ANYTHING that comes through my mind, even if it's very shitty or doesn't make sense. Really, anything, no filter, just pure creative torrent flooding through my brain. Most of the time, I never publish the fic like this, it's purely to keep me motivated and to let ideas flow from my brain, otherwise they just don't want to appear. It's more difficult for me to find good ideas/work the flow of what's happening if I have to stop every two minutes and reflect on what I've done. I never correct my spelling at this point either and sometimes even leave words or bits of sentences in French lol. It must be spontaneous and wild.

I usually have the main ideas somewhere written on a note and new ideas are added between them as I write.

Once this draft is finished, I have the rough lines of what's happening and the different parts of the fic, and it's time for what I like to call the "Ripening" phase (yes I'm French ofc I'm using cheese/wine metaphors for my work lmaoo). Basically, I re-read the draft a LOT of times and focus on parts that seem odd/are not well written enough to my liking.

During that phase, I do a lot of research. I like to search for lexical fields, synonyms, original or uncommon words. I use Notion to organize links of all the website/Tumblr pages that I like for discovering vocab. I visit almost every time @/literaryvein-reblogs; their blog is a pure goldmine! (let me know if you want me to share some resources).

With this newly acquired vocab, I like to go for alliteration/assonance. I often replace words I had written during the spontaneous phase with new vocab words that simply sound better together. I also try out different versions of my metaphors and keep what feels better or what is the more telling/meaningful/simply more pleasant to read.

Once all this is finished, I always take the time to re-read the whole thing in one go, trying to step back and put myself as a reader. I often end up deleting parts that seem too long or not essential enough from fear of boring you guys. I think this is purely personal, you writers know what you really want to keep or not in your writing.

So basically that's what's happening: 1. Pure chaotic writing session where I let myself be wild and write nonsense 2. Ripening phase (sorting out the good from the horribly bad from the first phase, vocab, deleting or changing parts, trying out different words and figures of speech, sometimes re-writing whole paragraphs). This phase might be the longest actually. 3. Final reading in one time and last details before publishing.

INSPIRATION AND WRITING STYLE - Getting the pretty picture out of your brain!

I know it feels difficult to put exactly what's on your mind to paper, and sadly just like while painting/drawing, imo you can never reproduce EXACTLY what you see in your brain into a physical object. You can only approach this vision as best you can! Here's what works for me.

I always try to immerse myself completely in the setting; where are the characters, what mindest do they have in this moment, what is surrounding them?

Use the five senses, this is something I do almost systematically. Sight is the most used ofc, but smell and hearing are also ultra important to me. Touch and taste also are central, especially during smut. They help bring words to life!

Don't be afraid to describe a lot; this is important to get closer to what you're picturing and putting the same image in your reader's mind.

Now, this isn't a secret to anyone, my favorite tools are metaphors and comparisons + allegories when I'm good enough to find one. To me they are the best way you can explain to readers what the thing you're picturing is close to without having to factually describe every little detail of it; or how a character feels without being too obvious.

(This is a personal preference of mine. You have to find figures of speech that feels natural and good to you, that you like reading and writing!)

Read. Reading books, poems, other people's fics, and listening to songs and their lyrics are imo the best things you can do to nourish your own writing. We're social animals; a brilliant idea may spontaneously appear from nowhere in one's head but 99% of the time it's from discovering others that your writing style will be refined and perfected (identifying what you like/don't, why you're particularly in awe of a specific sentence or particularly attracted to certain types of phrasing without trying to copy/paste the thing is the way to go)

Be curious! Inspiration also comes from anywhere; go to museums, watch movies, go take a walk in nature, really let yourself be filled with all types of art and information. I use a notebook and my phone to note random things that I see or hear that gives me a sort of "inspiration potential".

e.g: I broke a match trying to light up a candle once. Completely banal and forgettable event. Well, it ended up being a comparison for a wasted potential in Through My Eyes. Yes, the notebook is flooded with random things I probably will never use, but this is also a good way to stay open and receptive to little things around you that can inspire you.

The "show don't tell" technique, as in cinematography is a pretty difficult balance to find but is really efficient to get people interested without offering them obvious things on a golden platter, and I personally love it. Here, here, and here (symptoms and afflictions method) are some more resources!

CONCLUSION AND FINAL ADVICE

As I already said, this is what works for me! You have to find what does for you and always remember to have fun! I know it might sound weird but most of my writing process is spontaneous and words just flow "naturally" out of me most of the time, so I don't really know how to explain things clearly (sorry about that :/)

ALSO your writing takes the time it needs and it's no one else's business!!!

As you can see, my drafts in perpetual change; it's totally fine not to write the perfect fic in one go! Don't be afraid to re-write and change things as many time as you want! (I honestly think I have to stop myself from reading my works because even now after publishing, I would still be changing things!)

Never ever put pressure on yourself while writing, this must not be a source of negative emotions (this goes for writer's block too, everyone has been through it, and you should not feel bad for it!)

The most important thing is for you to try! Try different styles, and different settings, try to get interested in new stuff even if it's not your usual medium. Always be curious!

And for my fellows non-English natives, try to use Grammarly to check your grammar and spelling, WordReference to check for translations/meanings, and DeepL instead of Google's translator!

Here, I think I'm finally done! Sorry it was that long, I hope I could help you Zae, and bring you guys some useful advice! As always, take care, and have fun writing!

-Pine 🌱

[lambilegs]

could you perhaps write a headcanon or one-shot exploring the stubborn side of lee and how that causes an argument with reader?

THE LOVERS ARE FIGHTING (LEE HARKER X READER) 😔

contains: angst, the babies fight, hurt/comfort note to anon: thank you so much for this request love!! I've been wanting to write an angst oneshot for lee for a while so I was very glad to receive this hehe (also so sorry for how long this took to write 😭)

♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎ ♡♥︎

"still, harker, it isn't good enough."

you keep your mouth clamped shut, tucked against the wall as you listen to agent carter's harsh, reprimanding words, eyes darting between him, your girlfriend, and agent browning. you had arrived early to pick up lee from work for your pre-planned dinner, but as you should have expected given her line of work, even a minute in the bureau can make all the difference.

as you had turned a corner in the halls, your tracks slowed upon the noise of her superiors' voices, finally freezing when you caught sight of them standing outside the door to lee's office. while browning's eyes had been wide and imploring in clear concern, darting glances to your girlfriend's sunken face, carter's was twisted in irritation, his voice grating in the isolated hall as he scolded her.

you could already guess what the situation was about. at noon, your usual call from lee had contained a low confession from her that due to how slow her progress on a case had been, just as she had found the location to a suspect's hiding place, he had already escaped to a new city. by a day. you could hear the shame layering her words, tone hesitant and frustrated as though she had suspected you'd scold her for it. you had met the news with gentle words you only could hope would hold some comfort for her. after all, she had been working to death on this case for two weeks straight, constantly using her free time to soak up more information, more names, more clues. the progress had been slow due to the difficulties of the mystery itself, definitely not because of any lag on her part.

which made it so hard to stand by and listen as your girlfriend silently received all of agent carter's words, her jaw taut and eyes lowered to the floor. you could tell she was even more embarrassed now that you were here, her cheeks more flushed than they had been before you meekly made your way to them.

when you had made your presence known, agent browning's face became less tight, clearly ready for some distraction away from the tense moment. but, carter had continued, releasing a few last hard, almost whispered words to lee, who nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when the words 'not good enough' hung in the air.

the same words that make you snap. part of you knows you shouldn't, especially considering the words were said with a sense of finality, agent carter right on the cusp of swivelling on his heel to leave. but, still, you can't help it. not when lee's face is tense and hollow, her bottom lip quivering in that way it gets when her emotions are high.

"sir, I-- that's not fair," you say, your tone soft and slightly echoing in the hall. he's not your boss, but the nature of the situation makes your words stumble and waver in trepidation. "she's been working really hard, and she can't control--"

"I'm sorry, but this isn't really your bus--" agent carter starts, his eyebrows furrowed at you.

"it became my business, at--at least partially, when you continued talking to her this way in front of me!" you blurt out, your voice pitched higher from the incredulity. "she's been working hard on this, really hard. any bad timing that happened is awful, yeah, but that's just bad timing. it's not due to negligence on lee's end. I've been watching her, and--and--" you break off into stutters, stomach beginning to churn under the weight of both of lee's superiors' heavy stares.

"stop."

you turn to lee, eyes wide. her voice is quiet, but lined with a smooth, unbreakable steel that makes you flinch. it's a tone she rarely takes, even less so with you. it takes so much to poke a hole through her impenetrable wall of patience and collectiveness.

after her eyes, burning and wide, meet yours, you immediately duck your head down, face flaming from your girlfriend having taken such a tone with you in front of others.

agent carter seems to finally falter at this, his eyebrows furrowing as his gaze skips between the two of you. with a heavy sigh, his body sags, then he mutters, "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to drag you into this."

you nod quietly, nails digging into your palm, the weight of lee's sharp stare still bearing down on your shoulders, seizing at your neck and making it feel lodged.

after a few more quiet words and goodbyes are exchanged, you and her are left alone in the long hall. you push your back further into the hard, cold surface of the wall, the chill of it seeping through the fabric of your shirt. you want to sink into the concrete of it, have the corners and creaks of it wedge into your skin until you're disappeared completely.

all you hear of lee is her shaky breaths, which eventually dissipate into a long, tired sigh. "you didn't have to do that."

"I-I wanted to."

"well, I didn't want you to. nor did I ask you to."

the words are icy, whipping against your face and making you wince.

"I know, lee," you whisper, your fingers sinking into your clothes, twisting in the fabric. anything to fumble and distract yourself. "I just-- you've worked so hard these past weeks, and I couldn't stand carter saying those things."

"it doesn't matter if you can't stand it. I can, and he's my boss, so I have to take it."

you finally look up at her. "c'mon, lee, you know that's not true, the thing about you standing it. you looked pained, you looked hurt."

her jaw shifts, blinking hard at the ground. "no, I didn't."

"yes, you did! your mouth did the thing, and you looked like you were close to tears."

"well, I wasn't. I had it under control."

you blow out a frustrated puff of air. you get it, her silently absorbing with agent carter's words is her way of dealing with it. honestly, it's probably the only choice she really has as his subordinate. but, still, she doesn't have to be so damn stubborn to the point of acting like she was totally okay and your defense of her was entirely unwarranted.

"yes, I'm not saying it was out of control. but, you can at least admit it hurt, and I'm not completely delusional for wanting to stand up for you."

she shakes her head slowly, still gazing at the opposite wall, her eyes so intent that you feel like they could cut through the surface. "it was fine, I was fine. what you saw is a regular situation here. and now..." she trails off, and you can hear the whoosh of breath as she exhales sharply. "now, it looks like I can't handle it on my own. like I need to be defended." her voice shrivels up, growing quiet and meek, barely riding on the air to meet your ears. "I don't want to be underestimated even more than I already am."

guilt stabs deep into your stomach, twisting and bleeding you out of the frustration that had just been churning in you. you know she has a hard time, of course she does. she's one of the only women in the oregon bureau, and with her natural reservations and struggles to socialize, she's been on the receiving end of judgement and mistrust regarding her abilities more than once. the idea that you've now just added to that makes your entire body feel like it's sinking.

"well, I didn't mean for that to happen. I wanted to do something supportive and I just felt protective, and--"

"well, today, it was embarrassing."

your breath hitches in your throat, the words slamming into you like a rolling, relentless tide, drenching you in the cold agony of what she she said. did you embarrass her?

she rubs her palms on her pants, forehead gently creased as she continues glaring at the wall. "please, I just -- let's move dinner to another day, okay? I just want to spend the evening to myself."

"can't we--?" you ask, your voice wavering with desperation, not wanting her rare day off and reserved for you to abruptly wrap up like this.

"please."

"I-- okay." your voice cracks, and with it, your ability to argue anymore, the coldness of her body, her words, making you feel like she's entrapped in an ice-made alcove you can't break through.

when she says nothing else, you whisper a goodbye, walking away.

--

when you discover that you'll be charged for cancelling the reservation you made, you nearly scream into your pillow. as though this damned day could get any worse.

which leads to you, very dressed up, all alone at the restaurant, picking away at your food. self-pity is a sweet nectar in your sunken mood, and you gulp it heartily throughout the night, especially when you see other couples saunter in and share what seems to be some very joyous evenings together. it's horrible, but part of you itches with satisfaction when you spot at least one couple animatedly arguing. at least you're not the only once screwed over tonight.

you know this isn't all lee's fault, though. despite how hurt, and eventually livid, you are over her having cancelled your guys’ dinner, you can’t help but feel a pinch of self-doubt over your earlier actions. while you undoubtedly wish she had gone about it in a kinder way, what she said had some merit. maybe you had made the wrong move, one that’d only get her into more trouble and stress at work. the more you had thought about it since leaving the bureau, the more guilt came in that formed a neighbouring pit to your anger. you, too, probably wouldn't appreciate someone stepping into a private scolding you're receiving, unless they had gotten permission from you. and that's what you had done to her. you nearly writhe from the embarrassment of having screwed up so much.

but, still, she didn't need to stoop so low to cancel after so little time together lately. that's what continues to stoke the hurt in you, along with her earlier words.

you keep your headphones plugged in for the night, alternating between listening to music and watching episodes of a show on your phone. anything to keep your mind occupied from the mess of the day you had.

that's easier said than done, though, when "lee ♡" flashes on your phone, an image of her cooking in her warmly lit kitchen tucked beneath the letters.

you ignore it the first time, a petty, still slightly devastated, part of you throbbing. even if you're aching to hear more of her voice after weeks of her attention almost completely devoted to the case and robbed from, you avoid giving into the urge. after all, the recent distance was exactly why you had arranged a dinner. and instead, she chose to ditch it rather than talk to you.

when she calls a second time, the picture of her it cutting in right at a climactic scene of the episode, you grit your teeth, yanking your phone to your ear. "yes?"

"um, hi."

part of you softens in relief from hearing that the hard edge of her voice is gone, replaced by the calm steadiness you're more accustomed to hearing.

"hey."

when a minute passes and she says nothing, you ask, "what is it?"

"I-- where are you right now? can I come over? so we can... talk."

"no." your mouth pinches in embarrassment, taking a moment to ready yourself before saying, "I came to the restaurant. to get the reservation cancelled costed a bit, so, yeah."

when she speaks, her voice has simmered to a quiet murmur. "you're there alone?"

"none of my friends were free." you nearly add, and neither was my girlfriend, but hold your tongue.

there's a long pause on the other line, and just as you're about to huff in frustration, lee says, her voice clear with certainty, "stay there. I'm on my way."

your eyes bulge at the rustle of fabric rubbing against her phone, lee undoubtedly tossing on her jacket as she keeps you on the line. when you hear the clank of keys, you splutter, straightening up in your seat.

"no, no! don't do that. I've already been here for a while, and it'd take you a long time to get here. and I just want to go home."

another pause. then, "are you-- are you sure? I can come now."

"it's fine." it comes out more clipped than you intended, unattended-to-bitterness that's pooled in your stomach pushing you on.

"okay. can I come over, though?” after what feels like a tentative pause, thickened with tension, she adds, “please.”

lord, you wish that your resolve was more intact. that you could maybe be just a bit more stubborn. like how lee is.

but, apparently, a single word from her, one weakened with the pleading tone she takes, is enough. “okay.”

when you arrive to your home forty minutes later, you chew on your lip when you spot lee dwindling by your front door, a white box in her hands, the corner of which she picks at insistently. 

“hey.”

her head whips up, dark eyes practically sparkling when they land on you, those lashes—

no! no. you must have some resolve.

“hi.” she lifts the box, gaze now downcast. “I brought dessert.”

you nearly cry right then and there. your chest is wound up with twists and turns of anxiety, anger and guilt, overwhelming in how twisted and powerful they are. you try to ignore it, not wanting to break down this fast into the encounter.

when you guys step inside, lee sets the dessert down on the nearest surface, sucking in a small, quick breath before saying, “I’m sorry.”

you freeze, your stomach squeezing in surprise. you didn’t think you’d get an apology that fast.

“you were right. I didn’t feel… okay with how carter spoke to me. it did bother me. but, I felt — I don’t know, ashamed to admit that. like, to admit it would confirm that I’m… lacking.”

the last word is whispered, and all your resolves crack, splitting right at the center and giving care and love an opportunity to blast through the gap.

“baby, there’s nothing wrong with that, you know? I’m sure everyone at the bureau feels that kind of hurt when they're scolded, but like you, keep it to themselves. which, yeah, is fair to do while at work, but like — it’s me. you don’t have to do it with me."

“I know.” her throat bobs as she gulps. “I should’ve been honest. I’m sorry.”

the two words, the ones you’ve been craving and aching for since the harsh exchange, make you shift on the spot, your eyes burning. “thank you.”

“but, in the future, I’d prefer to handle it on my own.”

the words sting in spite of her gentle tone. you know she has every right to ask that of you, but it causes a wave of embarrassment, hot and searing like lava, to roll through you. it makes you feel stupid for having ever defended her in the first place, and like the entire action was one big screw up.

“mhm, I understand. I’m sorry I stepped in without asking,” you mumble, unable to face her now, feeling like if you will, the unshed tears will come hurling out. though part of you is embarrassed, and still reeling back from the pain of today, you sag a bit in relief. you know that even if your intentions weren't good, you crossed a line, considering it's lee's boss, not yours. and it feels good to at least acknowledge it.

lee seems to notice the flinch of your head turning down — how she does that, considering she’s not even looking at you, you have no idea. her peripheral vision is beyond your human abilities.

her sock-clad feet meet your sight first, before you feel the cool touch of her hand on your face, gently coaxing you to meet her gaze, which is now, finally, resting upon you, her eyebrows drawn in what looks like confusion, or, you secretly hope, concern.

“I know, um…” she briefly loses track, licking her lips. “I know you meant well before.” when you continue to blink at her, your throat tightening in emotion, she murmurs, “I shouldn’t have gotten mad, nor cancel the dinner. especially with how busy I’ve been.”

your lips purse together, trying to internally pull yourself together, get all the gears and screws of your emotions in order before they come crumbling down. 

“babe,” she whispers, levelling her eyes with yours, the glossy irises hooked onto your face. “I’m sorry.”

the dam shatters. you burst into tears, your hand instinctively coming up to cover your face from the humiliation of your outburst.

but, lee’s there to catch you. she always is. she presses her fingers into your wrist, moving away your hand in turn for tugging you softly to her body, wrapping her strong arms around you. she strokes her long fingers along your lower back, kissing your ear. she’s silent, giving you the space to quietly sob against her. you’d feel insecure as to whether or not your tears are affecting her if it weren’t for the tremors of her voice when she mutters, “I’m sorry. it was wrong.”

“I—I,” you stutter, the sobs shattering your words into pieces. “I just wanted to protect you and help you, and I— you seemed so cold.”

her fingers tighten against you, her nose dipping further into your hair. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I was just already, you know, frustrated from before — with myself, with carter. and already doubting my abilities. I think you defending me made me feel more, you know… incapable.”

“but, you're not incapable. you're great. and I -- that wasn’t my intention,” you mumble into her shirt, which has grown damp under your tears and slobbering nose. “I just wanted to be there for you.”

“I know,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss under your ear. “it was nice of you. really nice.”

you pull away, your voice croaking as you tug on her blazer. “and, then, you cancelled our dinner plans! after so much time apart, after finally finding a day you could afford to leave early. like, that’s so— that was so mean, lee.” the reminder of how dismissive she was unleashes fresh tears from your eyes, the heat of them leaking down your cheeks.

her mouth twists, eyes flicking down, the creases around them eased from the guilt carried in them. “I know. I should have talked to you then. or after the dinner, I don’t know.”

“yeah.”

her eyes fluttering as she blinks up to meet your stare, bright in that same kind of way they get when she's running her gaze through a case file. “what can I do?”

you rub your wrist along your nose, the skin getting sticky with your snot. not a beat passes before lee walks away, returning with a tissue that she shakily lifts to your nose, gently wiping the excess leakage.

“I—I don’t know,” you blubber. “I just miss you.”

she sighs, crumpling the tissue tightly in her hand. “I miss you too.”

“well, it doesn’t feel that way.”

her head hangs down, long lashes casting small shadows on her cheekbones. “I know it doesn’t.” she thumbs at your pulse point, the rough callouses scratching at your soft skin. you swallow hard at the delicate touches, nearly choking when her forehead dips against yours, the flimsy hairs crowning her face tickling you. “I’ll take a day off next week. I promise.”

your lips fold in, the plush insides digging into your teeth. “I don’t want you to do it just for me.”

“it isn’t.” her nose rubs into yours, the rounded tip of it pushing in softly. “it’s for us.” her chilled hands run up your arms, squeezing gently. “please, I—I know it might not be enough. but, I’ll do better. please, I just—“ her words break into a long, shuddering rasp, eyes screwing shut momentarily. “I just need to make this right. I miss you, and—“

“I know, I know,” you coo, kissing her cheek and pulling her down for a hug. suddenly, every other feeling dims, the need to comfort her overpowering everything.

she tightly grips on, and you can feel the way her body is tense — with anxiety, disappointment in herself, frustration, you’re not sure.

“I’ll take you out,” she mumbles.

you smile at the firm promise of her tone. “you hate going out.” the only reason she had even agreed to tonight is because the restaurant was so lowkey when you last when with your friends. it had taken lots of begging, and lots of promises of spending a very quiet night at her cottage afterwards.

after her breaths steady out, she says, “still, I’ll make an exception.”

“just for me?” there’s a slight teasing lilt to your voice, fingers weaving through her silky, brown strands. your body feels like a puddle, malleable and drained after the intense emotions you just rode out.

“who else?”

you huff a soft laugh, the noise dry from the tears. “what if I have plans next week?”

“then, give me a day you're available and I’ll figure it out.”

“what if I’m still mad?”

she pulls back, her eyes scanning your face, clearly searching for any signs of earnestness. when your lips curl into a smile, her shoulders loosen and she shakes her head gently. 

“then, you can ignore me the entire time.”

“what if I don’t want to ignore you?”

her eyebrow slightly raises, as though perplexed by your inquiry. “then, I’ll talk.”

“you, talk?”

she rolls her eyes, one corner of her lip curling up. “I already promised one exception. might as well add another.”

“will you perform a soliloquy, then?”

her tender smile widens, and she leans down to ghost her lips against yours. “don’t push it.”

[webco-dawnn]

Panic Attack.

HELLO!! I want to take a moment to apologize for my absence !! I got caught up in Christmas and New Years that I just didn't have enough time to get on here and write something good. But, with all the holdiays and special days out of the way, I'm free to write to my hearts content!! :)

Also, before you read this, I just want to let you know that the reason I wrote this was because I suffer from frequent anxiety/panic attacks and I guess I just wanted to feel a little reassurance through it. I also hope to bring you guys some comfort reading this. Also, this is a little bit different from my usual posts. they're usually lists of different hcs or just little scenarios. instead, this is kind of like a headcanon/fic in itself. so I hope you enjoy :)

(also this includes M!user since this is a boys volleyball team)

The sounds of volleyballs smacking against the floor echoed throughout the gym as the Inarizaki boys practiced their spikes. they were filed into two lines along with two letters to the side who would set the ball up high as the person next in line would run and spike it. then the next person would, and so on. It was their usual warm ups. stretching, practicing spikes, serves, sets, hits, etc. etc. But the captain of the volleyball team noticed something was wrong. different. missing.

"has anyone seen y/n?" kita called out to his teammates. He looked at each of them, waiting for a response. instead, every single one of them either replied with a short, "no, haven't seen him," "no," "nah," or just a shake of the head.

being the team captain, he kept his eye on his teammates. it was partially his job to count attendance. (only partially because that was the coach's job, but their coach wasn't here since this was a Saturday morning practice, which the team's coach doesn't usually attend.)

"He might've skipped," Suna suggested with a shrug.

Kita thought about it for a moment, but eventually decided on the fact that, no, you wouldn't do that.

"No, y/n's pretty passionate about volleyball. I doubt he'd skip a practice without at least messaging one of us to tell us why."

kita stared at the floor for a minute, internally debating whether he should go to the clubroom to grab his phone from his bag and either message or call y/n to ask where he was. well, that was until Osamu spoke up.

"Well, I saw 'em earl'r this mornin'," he said, his words laced with his thick accent. "Iunno where he went though." Osamu shrugged and looked up at Kita.

well, great. that didn't help one bit

"no one saw him walk away or something?" kita asked, looking around again at the boys. he was met with, yet another, disappointing shake of heads.

the captain let out a frustrated sigh. he truly cared about you. hell, he might as well have had a crush on you. he would never admit it out loud though. but he did care about you and was concerned about your absence.

"right, well, get back to practice, I'm gonna go search around and see if I can find him," he instructed his team, before turning around on his heel to go search for his missing teammate.

he immediately went to the supply closet at the corner of the gym. he felt it was the most obvious place to hide or be in if you were trying to avoid someone. he didn't know exactly if y/n was trying to avoid anyone, but he decided to check anyway. Kita opened the door to the supply closet with a short creaking noise. Light poured into the dark closet as a result of opening the door and Kita could see y/n sitting down near the corner of the closet. A soft, confused frown made its way to Kita's face at the sight. He cautiously walked over, not wanting to alarm you or scare you in any way. "Are you alright?" Kita whispered in a soft, quiet tone. The sudden voice was enough to make you flinch, immediately whipping your head up to look at the source of the noise. When you realized it was Kita, your captain, you somewhat relaxed, body less tense now. Kita kneeled down next to you, trying to get a good look at your face. He could see the tear stains runnning down your cheeks, the way your eyes were red and the skin around it puffy and raw from wiping your eyes. You soon realized you hadn't given Kita an answer to his question before, so you murmur out an, "not really." Kit anods at the answer, not really knowing how else to react. He takes a minute to fully sit down next to you. He isn't sure what's wrong, but from the tears and the quiet, but heavy breathing, he couldn't help but to put two and two together and figure out you were currently experiencing a panic attack. Kita himself has had panic attacks in the past and he knows what works for him, but everyone's different. What usually works for him might not work for you. So he decides to stay cautious. He hesitantly places a hand on your shoulder, scanning your face or body language to see if you were uncomfortable or not. You weren't uncomfortable. Far from it, actually. So he took it as a sign to go a bit further by gently rubbing the palm of his hand up and down your back. "it's gonna be okay," he murmured quietly. He carefully squeezed your shoulder and flashed a warm smile at you. Kita was always optimistic. He was always looking at the bright side. You couldn't help yourself and let a small smile lay on your lips at his reassurance. "We can stay in here for as long as you want." Kita had no idea if isolating yourself into a small, dark supply closet usually helped with your panic attacks, or if you were just hiding away from everyone because you didn't want anyone to see you in this state, but he still offered to stay in there with you because he thought it might be a little more comfortable for you.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Purity of Mind: A Bluebeard Retelling

Dora looked so innocent, asleep on her bed. The fresh white bandages binding her crown looked more like a mark of holiness than disaster. The doctor claimed she'd fallen from a balcony and hit her head upon a stair rail. Adam thought it seemed too suspicious an accident. A disaster on the one day he'd left the house? His sure-footed little wife wouldn't have stumbled like that--not unless she were nearly out of her wits. Perhaps fleeing from some great terror.

"She'll wake soon," the doctor assured him. "Her body's healed enough, but with a head injury like that, there's no telling what state her brain will be in."

The state itself, Adam thought, would be telling enough.

As if roused by the doctor's words, Dora's eyelids fluttered. She sat up, pale and trembling. Her gaze landed upon Adam, and she started to scream.

"Who are you?" she shrieked, gathering the bedclothes to cover herself. "What are you doing in my room?"

Adam had steeled himself for the usual accusations, but this left him off-balance.

Finally, he managed to say, "Dora, it's just me. Adam. Your husband."

"I have no husband!"

"We wed six months ago."

"Liar!" she shrieked. "I'd never marry a man with such an awful beard!"

Adam stroked his blue-black whiskers, neatly trimmed for his homecoming. A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat; after months of her tiptoeing around him, her frankness was amusing. "I paid your parents richly for the privilege."

Dora paused at that. The mercenary child of mercenary parents--the tale would ring true, no matter her objections to his facial hair. Yet the bewilderment didn't fade from her face. "I've never seen this house before."

"You've been mistress here six months."

"I don't believe you."

"Whether you believe me or not, it's true. You fell from a staircase and hit your head."

Her eyes were fire. "I'll bet you pushed me!"

"I was away from home. I only just returned." He would never have opted for such an impersonal death. It was much more satisfying to feel the life draining away beneath his fingers.

The thought brought him back to reality. No need to wrestle with her delusions; only one truth mattered.

"Dora," Adam asked. "Where are the keys?"

"What keys?"

"I left the keys of the house in your keeping. I'll need them returned."

"I never had any keys!"

Adam looked to the doctor, who said, "We've found no keys on her person."

Missing? Impossible. Adam stormed from the room and set the servants searching for the keys. Nothing in her wardrobe. Nothing in the rooms. Nothing in the gardens.

The door on the third floor was locked, with no signs of entry.

Adam returned to the sickroom as the sun was setting. Dora sat quietly on her bed, having been calmly convinced of her new reality, completely unaware of the turmoil she'd thrown his life into.

He could have torn her limb from limb right there, but he had no proof yet she was deserving of it. For the moment, his strategy was gentleness.

He sat on the bed beside her. "Dora, my dove, think. Can you remember where the keys might be?"

"I can't even remember you."

Adam examined her in every detail--the tips of her fingers, the whites of her eyes, the curl of her lips. No signs of deception.

"You truly can't remember anything?"

Tears glittered in her eyes as she shook her head.

She looked as innocent as a newborn babe. The timid little fool he'd married couldn't fake such total ignorance. If she'd peered behind the door, she'd lost the memory of what she'd seen. If she'd disobeyed, he had no way of knowing.

A new twist to the game--a second chance.

Adam left the room in a state of contentment. He could get new keys made. His secret was safe--locked away either behind the door or in his wife's blank mind.

And if her memory returned? If she had memories of that bloody chamber?

He could always kill her later.

[motokeith]

I didn’t forget about Welwitschia, I’m just in a drought