#and ending that sentence with “shame on you... do better...”

[vegley]

hi guys i am pretty bored

[hanasnx]

Heyy <3 dunno if it's gonna echo something in your inspiration, but I was thinking a Nightwing thing, like with vigilante reader and they coincidentally get stuck in a tight space on a mission to catch the riddler. I don't really have much more but yeahhh (love your Clark fics btw i- 🛐)

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! — request DC characters.

“It was your idea to follow him…” you accuse, and flick your head to the side to sweep the hair out of your face while your hands are stuck.

“Oh, and it would’ve been a better idea to stay there and play sitting ducks?” NIGHTWING matches your energy, and when you neglect to respond, merely occupying your gaze with the surrounding walls in a leisured peer, he looks for a way out. Limited mobility affords him some advanced peripheral vision, but there’s not much else to do than try to slide a direction together and hope for the best. The problem is you’re practically painted on him. Chest-to-chest, the two of you can barely breathe. “If you could just… you could try to..” His suggestions trail off as he lets you finish the sentences, following his lead. His shoulders shifting down, carefully shimmying while the material of his suit catches on the texture of the wall. In an attempt to rearrange the puzzle pieces of your body, you raise yourself on the tips of your toes.

“Like this?” you confirm, right before your foot gets caught on his, and out of instinct his hands fly to you. The only area that they can reach, however, is the space of your outer thighs, and you gulp because his aid to steady you is reminiscent of intimacy. Your lips press into a thin line, and neither of you say anything, the silence filled by your conjoining panting.

Once you’d slipped, the swell of your chest now rests on the apex of his, and your cleavage sits in his immediate view. His eyes visibly widen, and even through the whites of his mask you can tell he’s averting them. The warm breath of his nose washes over your tits pressed up against him, and you know he’s so close he can feel your nips peak in the cold night air. It’s humiliating.

The shame of it blooms a deep heat on your cheeks, and it drives you to take the lead from him. You shift, the gravel under your shoe filling in some silence while you move in your panic. “Let me just��“

“—Don’t move—“ he says, but it’s less of a command, more of a plea.

“—No, if I can just get—“ As you fight for room, he tries to accommodate you, his hips backing up with nowhere to go but bumping back into yours.

“—Wait—“ he responds, firmer this time.

“Trust me!” And as soon as your outburst ends do you feel a new sensation. The hands on your thighs or his chest pushing up yours is all old now. This is entirely unprecedented.

You both fall completely quiet, and completely still. An unmistakable outline nudges your inner thigh as it fills itself out, seeking a warm and wet home an inch away from its head. It creeps towards you, and that familiar feeling pools in your core like its greeting an old friend.

“I told you not to move.” he sighs, and you can hear the frustration masking the embarrassment in his voice.

[devotedsweetheart]

・❥ CALEBS FAVORITE KINKS !!!

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: a list of what i think are calebs top 5 kinks !

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+, incest , oral sex , bondage , collaring , orgasm denial , porn w/ no plot

a/n :: these are not in order !! :)

1. INCEST :: now, this might seem a little bit overboard , but to caleb ? it's nothing new . after knowing you for so long ... growing up together , living in the same house , sharing everything with each other .. it's like a normal thing to him. so normal to the point where he'll call you his 'sissy' during different times of day . " sissy , could you grab my water from the table for me ? thank you, love . " it just rolls of the tongue !! especially during your alone time, too . it slips out more than you or him could count . when he first moaned it he never even payed attention to it , thinking of it as nothing . it was only when you gave him a look that he couldn't quite read did he notice what he accidentally said . "o-oh my god pips im.. im so sorry. that was fucking weird and i shouldnt have said it... im a damn pervert." shame flooded his face ... but he knew it would happen again , whether he could control it or not .

2. BONDAGE :: listen , he doesnt want to be tied up because hes horny , it's because he trusts you so much ... and that kind of turns him on . the fact he can willingly submit to you and trust you without having to worry about what you're doing . although he likes to be restrained , he'd never do it to you .. only if you asked him . he'd do anything you asked for (within reason) , whether thats strapping you to the bed with ropes , chains , a belt (his) , cuffs .. whatever you please . all he's worried about is them scuffing up those pretty wrists of yours . "nono wait baby .. your skin, it's red . do you need me to stop ? i'll stop right now for you , you look like you're in pain . let me kiss it better pips .." is what he'd say on any other occasion .. but the times when you didnt look so in pain , thats when his freak comes out . "you cant run away silly .. stop trying to run from me . i wont allow it , and neither will those restraints you begged me to use on you . i actually quite like the way you look right now... all tied up and cute for me ."

3. COLLARING :: i feel like this is the most canon you could ever get . he'd seriously be into making you wear a collar for him , wanting everyone to know who you belong to & to not try with his girl ! also , he'd want one with a bell .. just so you couldnt escape without being noisy ;) . buuuut he's up for wearing one for you as well , he also wants to let people know who he belongs to . i think he'd get one for the both of you regardless of you wanting one or not , his need to get people off of you is too strong, as he is alarmingly obsessed with you . the collar isn't just used as man repellent , it turns him on so fucking much . knowing that you're practically his property gets his dick hard to the point of ache , he'd definitely make you wear it during sex . mumbling incoherent sentences about how much he loves the way it looks on your gorgeous neck .. how he never wants you to take it off . "as long as you're here, with me, you aren't touching it . fuck , you're so good for me .."

4. ORGASM DENIAL :: hear me out . it's late at night and he notices your location isnt on ... he texts and calls you multiple times without an answer . eventually , he tracks you down and confronts you about going out without his knowledge / consent . after he's done scolding you , that night , he'd drag you into his car as soon as he could & not let you cum . he would adore hearing you beg for him , solely because it feeds into his desire for you to need him as much as he does you . he wouldnt be too fond if you ended up doing it to him ... maybe as revenge or something , but nonetheless , he would be in pieces . pleading , begging , writhing , all of the above just to feel your perfect cunt squeeze around him one more time so he can cum . he would never put his hands on you , but he would just get so desperate ... he might have to move you himself !! at that point , all he would manage were whimpers and prayers . "ohmygod pips please .. im sorry! okay! im sorry .. i can't take this anymore baby , i need to cum . i need it so fucking bad ."

5. FACE SITTING :: caleb takes "the best way to die is by thigh" way too seriously . he would happily pass away while in between your thighs ... he loves eating you out so much it's kind of concerning . the moment his lips are on your core hes not letting up until you've cum over and over again on his face .. hes addicted to the taste of you . his deep obsession with your juices is so bad that he has to have you suffocating him , almost breaking his nose , using his face as a toy ... he can't get enough . i think this roots from the fact that he jerks off to your voice all the time & that makes him so attached to all your moans . especially when you call out his name while you cum .. he thinks about those moments way too often .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in conclusion :: caleb would really do whatever you asked , aka hes into anything , but these are the ones he really enjoys . <3

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 1: Maids

And so we begin this crazy month with a G!P Jihyo. Needed to say that as a warning.

Length: 2K

G!P Jihyo x Mreader

You look around your apartment and sigh. It was filled with empty boxes from packages you had long since opened and other trash. A sound at the door gets your attention, and you walk over; a flyer is at the front, slid underneath your door. “That’s the last thing I need,” you think to yourself before picking up the flyer and turning it over. “Maid Service” was written in big, bold letters across the top, and pictures of women in the stereotypical maid outfit were pictured under it. You look back at the mess in your apartment before considering calling the service. You think about how much work it would be to clean everything up and sigh before looking at the flyer again. “What’s the worst that can happen?” You say aloud before grabbing your phone and calling the number.

A woman picks up the phone on the other end, happily greeting you. “Hello, and thank you for calling Smile Maid Service. How can we help you?” 

“Uh, Hi, I’d like a maid to come over.”

“Of course, sir. Do you have anything that is particularly messy, like a kitchen or bathroom?” 

“No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, thank you, sir. Give me a moment while I get you a maid.” She tells you that you hear some typing in the background before she comes back to the line. “Okay, I just need a little more information. How long would you like to use our service?”

You glance at the mess and consider how long it might take someone to clean it up. “About three hours,” 

“Okay, and what is your address?” You give the woman your address, and after a minute of typing something, she updates you. “Alright, you’re all set. We’ll have our maid Jihyo go over; she’ll be there in thirty minutes. You will make your payment to her; she can take cash or a card. Thank you for calling Smile Maid Service. Have a wonderful day.” The woman hangs up, and you sit down in your living room. As you wait for Jihyo to arrive, you look around and feel embarrassed to have such a mess when someone is coming over. You break down the boxes, laying them on one side of the living room while you wait for Jihyo to arrive. 

There’s a knock on the door. You look at the clock; it must be Jihyo. “Smile Maid Service, Jihyo here!” You hear being shouted from the other side. You walk to the door and open it. Standing before you was a short woman dressed just like the women on the flyer. It’s frilly around the bottom and tight on the top, giving a nice shape to Jihyo’s chest. She steps inside and looks around without missing a beat. “Thank you for hiring me; I’ll get started right away.” She says with a smile. Seeing the flattened boxes on the ground, she picks them up, heaving them over her shoulder, and takes them to the trash downstairs before coming back to clean the room.

“You can rest; I’ll clean up here.” Jihyo huffs as she takes a deep breath. You sit back on the couch, watching Jihyo work diligently as she cleans your apartment. You can’t help but stare at her; Jihyo was beautiful, and the maid outfit made her look better. You were getting hard watching her work. “Hey, Jihyo.”

“Yes?” Jihyo turns around to you, flashing some money in her face. 

“Could I see you work with your tits out?” You ask bluntly. 

The sudden request takes Jihyo aback, and she takes a moment to recover. She glances at the money before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t—" You pull out larger bills before she can finish her sentence. 

“How about this much?” Jihyo bites her lip as she stares at the money before her. It’s no small amount. She hangs her head as she agrees, feeling shameful as she takes the money. Jihyo turns around, reaching behind her back and finding the zipper to her dress. She pulls it down slowly, her lavender bra showing as she stops just above her waist. The young woman unclasps her bra, holding the large cups against her chest before pulling them away from her body. Jihyo's chest heaves as she takes in a deep breath. 

“Happy sir?” She says with a slight smile. You nod, and Jihyo soon returns to cleaning, her tits jiggling as she moves from side to side. Jihyo begins to make a conscious effort to slow her movements in an attempt to stop her breasts from moving. 

While she’s doing that, you stare at her tits, noting her hard brown nipples. Jihyo continued to work, growing uncomfortable at the attention she was receiving. She was getting hard at the attention you were giving her, a small tent forming on the lower half of her outfit. Jihyo tries to continue working, but her dress gets in the way. You notice the small tent and bring it up. “Jihyo, it looks like your dress is getting in the way. Why don’t you take it off, too?” You tell her, flashing even more money her way.

She gives you a slight nod and places her hands on the zipper of her outfit, lowering it slightly before moving her hands around to her waist and pushing the maid outfit off her body. Jihyo's hard cock was barely restrained by her panties. As much as she felt embarrassed by the situation, Jihyo was also getting turned on. It was the first time someone had wielded their power over her like this. “You know what? Take the panties off, too. I want to see you naked.” You tell her, adding more bills to her growing pile. Jihyo doesn’t resist, bending herself over and removing her panties. She stands back up slowly and continues working around the house, naked, her cock still hard and twitching as she imagines what you’ll have her do next. 

When Jihyo leaves the living room to clean another room in the home, you take the time to strip down, and when she returns, she immediately notices. Her eyes remain glued to your cock for what seems like forever; her own cock twitches at the sight, but soon enough, she manages to pull herself away and continue her work.

You stroke your cock as you watch the young woman. Jihyo can’t help but glance at you; her body feels warmer whenever she does, and she finds herself in more revealing positions as she cleans. Jihyo would bend over when she cleaned the lower shelves over your bookcase, giving you a good view of her body, or as of now, she was squatting between your legs, cleaning the coffee table in front of you. She rose slowly, allowing you a close look at her ass. 

You struggle to resist touching her and eventually give in to your desires. You spread Jihyo’s cheeks and dive in, running your tongue around her puckered asshole. Jihyo moans instantly, her cock twitching as she’s hit with a sudden rush of pleasure. Jihyo uses the table to support herself as she fills your home with her moans. She curls her toes and reaches for her cock, stroking it slowly as she feels your tongue push into her ass. “Oh, fuck,” She groans, moving her hand faster. She didn’t care that she just met you; you’re giving her money and pleasure.

Jihyo thought about how she could get used to it. She pushed her hips back, letting you snake her tongue deeper inside of her. Jihyo began to stroke her cock quickly as she felt herself get closer to cumming. You pulled one of your hands back and slapped her ass hard, a loud crack filling the room, followed by Jihyo’s moan. She bit her lip and began whining; her cock leaked precum onto her hand as she got ever closer. “I’m cumming; oh god, I’m cumming, she moaned. Her legs became weak, and she struggled to stand. You stood up and held Jihyo’s body up; your other hand went over her,s and you began to stroke her cock quickly. Jihyo’s whines only got louder as you pushed her over the edge and made her cum. You sit back on your couch, bringing Jihyo onto your lap as you continue to stroke her cock, milking more of her cum out of her.  

Jihyo turns her head slowly, pushing her lips outward for a kiss.  You grant her one, snaking your tongue into her mouth as you move your hands to her tits and squeeze them, enjoying their softness. You break the kiss quickly and grab Jihyo’s dirtied hand, bringing it up to her lips and forcing her to taste her cum.

Jihyo’s muffled moans continue as you play with her body. “Sir, hold on.” She groans, “Sir, do you like my body that much?” When you give her nod, she continues, “I’d be happy to quit my job and be your personal maid if you keep paying me as much as you have.” You consider her offer, running your fingers over her hard nipples as you think about it. “Master, please,” she whispers, rubbing her ass against your cock. 

It’s enough to make you agree, “Alright, you have a deal. Now why don’t you put those tits to good use.”

Jihyo smirks and climbs off your lap. She kneels between your legs and cups her tits, bringing them to your cock and surrounding it. Jihyo spits on her soft mounds and begins to rub your cock, spreading her saliva around her tits and your cock. “Is this good, Master?” 

“Yeah, real good,” You groan. You shut your eyes and enjoy the feeling of her tits moving up and down your shaft. You don’t react to Jihyo wrapping her lips around the tip when it pokes through her tits; you just enjoy the experience. Jihyo pumps your cock between her tits quickly. When you open your eyes again, you see her using her nipples against the tip of your cock. “I think that’s enough, Jihyo. I want you.” Jihyo rises and offers herself to you, climbing onto the couch and bending over the armrest. 

She shakes her ass for you, “Fuck me, Master,” she says in a sweet voice. You come up behind her and press the head of your cock against her puckered asshole and begin pushing. Jihyo groans as she feels your cock start to fill her guts. Inch by inch, you move inside her, stretching her tight asshole around your cock. You play with Jihyo’s tits, enjoying the large mounds while Jihyo strokes her cock. Her moans fill the room; Jihyo’s eyes roll into the back of her head as the pleasure overcomes her. Her entire body tingles as you begin to thrust. 

Jihyo’s walls cling to your cock, squeezing you roughly. Every thrust takes a lot of energy out of you but gives you more pleasure in return. You spank Jihyo roughly, every smack turning her ass a deeper shade of red. As you make her walls slick with her saliva, your thrusts become faster, and you drive your cock deep into Jihyo’s ass, making her cry out in pleasure as her incoming climax torments her.

Precum covers Jihyo’s hand as she strokes her cock; her whines become loud as she struggles with the immense pleasure. You pull on Jihyo’s nipples, mixing in some more pain. “I’m cumming, Master!” she cries, forcing her eyes shut as she feels the tension in her body explodes. Jihyo spurts cum into her hand again as she cums. You feel her wall tighten around your cock, making you grunt as you feel your orgasm coming. 

You continue thrusting and move your hand down to Jihyo’s cock, gripping it tightly before stroking it quickly. Jihyo grimaces as you overstimulate her. Your quick strokes bring Jihyo to another climax as you slam yourself deep inside her ass and fill her with your cum. You turn Jihyo’s head and kiss her, happy that you spent the money on her. “You’re going to live here now, Jihyo; I’m going to need you at all times.”

Jihyo smiles and nods at you, “Okay, Master.”

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.

“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile. 

Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"

Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.

Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.

Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.

Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.

Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females. 

And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.

He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it. 

Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp. 

Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend. 

It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better. 

"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.

Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."

"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.

Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?

Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.

And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way. 

"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off. 

Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.

"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.

Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."

Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into. 

Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all. 

Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.

But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.

***

"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.

"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly. 

"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.

"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.

Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.” 

Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.

And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.

He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."

Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.

She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful

They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.

Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.

How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.

"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."

They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.

He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.

He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.

"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.

Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."

He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."

The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him

Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,”  he admitted.

It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either. 

Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.

Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.

He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.

The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.

"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.

Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."

"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.

"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."

"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.

"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."

She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?

She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.

He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.

Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.

For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.

She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.

"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.

Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.

"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."

Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.

*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*

Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further. 

"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."

Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.

"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.

*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*

Sky blushed at the compliment.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."

"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.

Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.

"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."

Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her

"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently. 

"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."

He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."

He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.

"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."

He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."

She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.

As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.

He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 

"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.

[lieslab]

Will you still walk me home?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Seungmin X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend snaps at you after your caring nature starts to feel like suffocation.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2k

Trigger warning: Mentions of anger and codependency issues.

_ _ _

At some point, you didn’t know how to detach your limbs from the stretched mold you’d been thrown into your entire life. Growing up and taking care of everyone around you, it left you wounded with more scars than you’d like to admit, but you survived, didn’t you? You always thought you should be thankful for that, at least. 

When you met Seungmin, the world warped from silver to gold. Strength, love, courage, optimism, and most importantly, companionship. Being with Seungmin meant companionship. You didn’t realize just how much that same companionship you loved would break him. You thought you were helping, not hindering. 

Seungmin had other ideas. 

_ _ _ 

“Good morning!” Your cheery voice filled the air. Across the way, Seungmin glided across the hardwood flooring with sleep in his eyes and sock-clad-feet. He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. 

“I made you coffee and I packed your lunch for the day.” 

“Okay.” 

“And I made you breakfast.” 

A grunt left his lips. Usually exhausted from the leftover bits of sleep, you didn’t take this as a bad thing, but rather a chance to continue. “So I was thinking that maybe after you finish work, we could-” 

“We can’t,” he interrupted before you could finish. “I have to stay at work late. I don’t know when I’m going to be home.” 

“That’s okay, maybe tomorrow we-” 

He sighed and rolled his eyes. The sight caused you to freeze. Your stomach twisted itself in knots. For whatever reason, the actions caused a lump in your throat. You didn’t dare finish your sentence. 

“Don’t you get tired of wanting to do everything together? God, you’re so clingy. Can’t you just go away or something? It’s to the point where I can’t even wake up and have my own breakfast because you think you know me better than myself.” 

“Don’t you get tired of doing this all the time?” He gestured around the kitchen. “Can’t you just worry about yourself for once? This is exhausting. You’re like a moth that keeps coming to my front porch light and every time I try to leave, you launch yourself at me. It’s not healthy.” 

The words swung and chipped away at your soul. The fine grains of sand shifted and down you fell. Sucked into a hole, more sand slid, and it suffocated you. It burned your lungs more than anything. The lump in your throat grew so prominent, you figured it’d burst into a sob. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you uttered weakly. Shame dusted your cheeks and caused your ears to burn red. “I-I didn’t know I was making you feel that way. I’ll stop.”  Your head bowed, hoping for forgiveness. 

“It’s about damn time,” he mumbled. His eyes cast over to the granite countertop. The warm cup of coffee you made him sat steaming. “I don’t even want hot coffee this morning. I want it cold.” He reached for the freezer, as if his words just didn’t matter. 

You blinked rapidly. The bite of tears became harder and harder to fight. Glossy little things coated your eyes and turned you into a mess. With your head ducked, you disappeared from the kitchen and back to your shared bedroom. 

You didn’t know why it hurt so much. His demands and outcry, it was a reasonable demand. You knew you could be overbearing, but on the other hand, it’s all you knew. You knew how to be overbearing and fill everyone’s cup before your own. To make sure every other plate is filled with food before you grab yours. 

Was that really such a bad thing? 

_ _ _ 

When you define yourself, you can't do it alone. The shape of other people clouds your silhouette. For as long as you could remember, there was never just you. Someone to please. Someone to manage. Someone to take care of. Your responsibilities littered with the sake of others. 

But what about you? Who picked you first? Who made sure you were tucked into bed and contained a stomach lined with a filling, hearty meal? Who took care of you when your shoulders slumped and you lay defeated due to disease? Who picked you up when you were down? 

Seungmin’s words stuffed your ears all day. The harsh words whispered against your eardrums, even without his presence. Who were you really? Alone. Isolated. Someone unable to find yourself in the murky sea of life. 

The tears kept coming and they stung. It became harder and harder to idly stand and continue working. Your shift stretched on and on. The entire time, you wanted to go home and curl beneath the covers. 

Who were you, really? Deep down, through the fixtures you hung, the need to care for others, what lay at the bottom of the ocean of you? What treasure unfolded? What kept you sane throughout all of this? 

By the end of the day, you weren’t sure if you ever really knew who you were from the start. A present day mess, warped and morphed by the past. You did what you had to survive. That’s all you knew. 

Why wasn’t it good enough? 

_ _ _ 

In the underbelly of the darkened night, guilt eased into Seungmin’s bones. He remembered the way your smile faded from your face. The hurt siphoned in your eyes. He knew he hurt you, but he didn’t know how to take it back. He spat out the words so easily, but coming to terms with his dickheadness, it hurt. All you wanted to do was make his life simpler. 

Jeongin picked up the lingering silence quite easily. As he drove Seungmin back to your shared apartment, he glanced over. “What’s wrong with you? You’re usually talking my ear off, but now you refuse to utter more than two sentences.” 

“Do you ever do something you regret? Lash out in a fit of frustration and never know what to say to heal the hurt? Because I said something this morning. I could have worded it better and I just…” 

“Ah, trouble in paradise.” Jeongin’s hands gripped the wheel tighter. He adjusted his grip on the wheel. “Well, I’ve lived most of my life with seven other guys who annoy me to no end because I’m the youngest. Remember the time I got mad at Chan because he kept babying me?” 

“Because you’re a baby in our eyes.” 

“I’m not much younger than you. I just wanted to be seen for myself. Not as a baby. Not as someone incapable. I might appear younger in your eyes, but I’m still grown, you know?”

“I know. We know. Sometimes, you’re just so cute, I can’t help it.” He reached out a hand and ran it through Jeongin’s hair. He yelped and shoved his hand away. Seungmin chuckled and glanced back out the window. 

Bits and brightened pieces of Seoul passed by. Buildings ignited with light. People scattered here and there. On their own path, a hundred lives flickered before him. Each one with their own thoughts and opinions. The passing thought caused his head to lean up against the window. Jeongin adjusted in his seat and kept driving. 

“My words came out wrong this morning. I worry about them a lot. I always do. When I see them constantly taking care of me, I worry so much. I worry that I’m not good enough. Maybe I’m not working hard enough to make them feel appreciated. Maybe, as much as it hurts, maybe I’m the shitty boyfriend that nobody wants.” 

“Then tell them that and talk through it.” 

_ _ _ 

When the door cracked open with Seungmin’s homecoming, you stared at the pile of dishes from the previous night. You always let the dishes from the previous dinner soak overnight. The bits and pieces of food stuck and dried to the sides. You let it soak with soapy water and that never changed until now. You worried that maybe if you did the dishes, Seungmin would grow upset again. 

Approaching footsteps soured your heart. Your hands rested against the edge of the sink. You didn’t bother moving them. Seungmin appeared in the door frame of the kitchen with messy hair. 

“You’re still here? Good. We need to talk.” 

Your fingers tightened around the lip of the sink. Your eyes shut and all you could do was hesitate. What if this was it? What if he broke up with you right here and now. What if- 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes reopened and you stared at the wall in confusion. 

“I didn’t mean to snap at you this morning. I understand why you’re upset with me. That was a horrible and shitty thing to do. You just wanted to make sure I was taken care of. I hurt you in an indescribable way and I’m sorry.” 

He waited for your reaction, but you didn’t turn around. He sighed and a hand reached for the back of his neck. “I’m not good at these things. Jeongin said I should talk to you and tell you the truth. The truth is that I worry about you. You’re constantly taking care of me. Sometimes you take care of me and it feels like you abandon your own needs.”

“I love it when you make me morning coffee and breakfast. I like that there’s a thousand little things you do for me, but at the same time, I worry so much. You’re very codependent and I know it’s none of my business how you were raised, but I worry I’m being a horrible and terrible boyfriend.” 

The words sent a wave of panic through your heart. You jerked around instantly to find him. “Don’t say that, you’re not a horrible and terrible boyfriend.” 

“You do so much for me and what do I do for you? When you’re constantly taking care of me, you abandon yourself. You forget that your needs are important, too. I’m capable of taking care of myself. I know you like doing that, but we have to find a balance.” 

You didn’t respond right away. His words took a few moments to settle into your skull. He shifted the weight on the balls of his feet. “So I’m sorry and I know that doesn’t cut it. I said horrible things this morning out of my own stupid insecurity. I know you’re upset and mad, but what I’m trying to say is, please don’t be upset forever.” 

His eyes squeezed shut. “Because the truth is so much harder to describe. I love you so much and I’m afraid one day, you’ll see me as this horrible person because you do so much. I’m always working and so busy, what do I contribute to this relationship? It feels like you do everything. I try to do things too, but you’re really the only one contributing consistently.” 

“That's all I know how to do,” you finally whispered. “I don’t know how to be alone. I don’t know how to exist without taking care of others. For so long, it’s all I’ve ever known. Outside of that, I don’t know who I am.” 

Someone squeezed Seungmin’s heart and milked out despair. His silhouette blurred and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in a hug. The familiar scent of some fancy cologne, a subtle birchwood and vanilla. 

“Then we’ll figure it out together. We’ll grow and figure out how to balance each other out. It’ll take a while, but if we’re honest with each other, we can figure this out, right?” 

You nodded and sniffled. Seungmin squeezed you tighter and you wrapped your arms around one of his arms. “Thank you for being honest,” you whispered. 

“Shut up. Thank you for being you and taking care of me. I don’t deserve your love sometimes.” 

“You’ll always deserve to be loved.” 

“And you deserve to be taken care of, so shut up and let me hold you.” 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[vanesycho]

kinktober day 1 [mirror sex]

|masterlist|

warning:smut without a plot,fingering

Yuta, who entered the room, looked up from his phone and looked at you for a while, you were sitting at the end of the bed looking at the mirror in front of you doing your skin care before going to bed. He threw the phone on the bed randomly, then he got behind you, you gave him a smile, he smiled the same but only he knew it wasn't an innocent smile. He pulled your hair, exposing your neck, gave you a small kiss, you felt him whisper in your ear "You smell so good." You laughed in return for his compliment and turned to him, gave him a small kiss on the lips "Thank you my love, the new shower gel I bought. I think I'll use this from now on because..." he honestly didn't even listen to what you said, his hand roamed your legs, your sentence was cut off when he started caressing between your legs "Yuta- are you listening?"

He looked at you from the mirror "Get on my lap." You didn't understand what he said at first, he laughed briefly when he realized you were looking at him questioningly. "Stand up and then sit on my lap, baby." You didn't hesitate to do that, when Yuta got to the end of the bed you were about to sit on his lap but he stopped you "Take off your panties." you pressed your legs together, seeing you paused, Yuta looked at your face "Are you going to stand there or do I need to help you?" his hand went to your shorts without waiting, pulling you closer and placing a small kiss on your belly while taking off your shorts and panties, your body shivered for a moment, Yuta grinned seeing the effect of even a small kiss "Cute."

He then made you sit on his lap facing the mirror, his fingers didn't wait and went to your pussy immediately, even though you wanted to close your legs, he separated yours with his own legs "Ah-ah, are you trying to hide your beautiful pussy from me? You better not." he said the last sentence in your ear in a whispered tone, making you swallow hard. Yuta looked at the mirror, two of his fingers slipped inside you easily due to your wetness, he let out a deep breath "Fuck- you're this wet and I didn't even touch you. Yet trying to hide it from me." his other hand went to your chin, squeezing it lightly and forcing you to look in the mirror "If you take your eyes off the mirror, good things won't happen to you, do you hear?" You couldn't answer, you just nodded in agreement. He placed a small kiss on your cheek. "Good girl."

His hand moved down from your chin to your neck, not squeezing too hard, just staying there. His fingers started to move in and out of your pussy in a certain rhythm, the wetness wrapping around his fingers, making Yuta lick his lips in pleasure. Your breathless little moans reached his ears. Your voice got louder as he started to speed up his fingers, looking at your body shaking from the speed of his fingers. “Ah...Can’t you handle just two fingers, baby? Does it feel good?” You couldn’t answer, he slid his third finger into your pussy easily, only grinning when he heard a small cry. “So needy and cute...Look at how nicely you wrap around my fingers.”

He squeezed his hand around your neck lightly, your eyes were slightly open but you could see what was happening clearly in the mirror. Your juices were already starting to flow down your pussy, Yuta’s hand moved down your neck and started to play with your nipples this time. His fingertip gently traced circles around your nipple, your erect nipples satisfying him even more. He looked at the mirror again, his hand was still rapidly destroying your pussy "Please..I'm close..Yuta-" he looked at how you can barely speak between your moans and laughed, spoke in a mocking tone "Are you close already? What a shame..I was just starting to enjoy myself."

His fingers continued to hit your pleasure point, you heard him muttering curses as your juices flowed from your pussy. Your eyes closed from the pleasure and you leaned your head on his shoulder, he couldn't help but laugh at how exhausted you looked even for his fingers "Are you going to cum on my fingers, baby? Are you that needy?" The sentences he whispered in your ear were driving you even crazier, when your moans got louder he realized you were getting close, he bit his lower lip, his own breathing was also irregular. A few more hits on your pleasure points and his fingers were filled with your cum, he watched it flow away. Yuta slowly pulled his fingers out of you, watching how your legs were shaking, you closed your legs, eyes still closed and you were resting tiredly on his shoulder.

His chuckle reached your ear "I should have done this sooner, fuck." he whispered to himself, you opened your eyes and looked at him, he gave you a small kiss on the lips "Are you tired already? I told you I was just starting to enjoy it so now turn around and lift your ass for me baby. I need to see how I fuck you with my dick."

[o-sachi]

My Golden Girl ‧₊˚ ⋅ One Shot (Request)

ଳ Kaiser loves his generous golden girl, but he hates it when people take advantage of her kindness

ଳ character; michael kaiser (bllk)

��� tags; afab reader, no y/n, FLOOF, soft mihya

[🐟]: This takes place before the Blue Lock project, so Kaiser should still be in Germany and practicing with Bastard.

The moon can only shine at night because of the sun.

That's what your relationship is like with Kaiser.

He honestly had no idea where he'd be without you. There were days when he felt like he was slowly losing himself—drowning in the pressure to remain at the top. But as he teeters on the edge, you always come to pull him right back in.

Your sweet words at the end of his day were enough to keep him grounded. As a matter of fact, you barely needed to do much to pacify him. But knowing you—you would go over and beyond for him. Seriously. It puzzles him why someone as pure as you would mess around with someone like him.

But who was he to question you?

"Yo, your girlfriend's been here for like an hour. Have you even seen her already?" Kaiser snaps out of his daydream as the locker room door swings open. It was some guy from his team who he never really bothered to remember the name of. His gaze follows his teammate as he saunters over to his locker.

"Eh... but she's out helping the managers again." That's when his attention was truly caught. "She's what?" "Y'know... handing out bottles and stuff. You should ask her to become a manager too. She'll fit right in." Tsk.

Kaiser shakes his head and grabs the towel off of his head. He aimlessly chucks the piece of fabric to the side and gets up without another word.

His teammate watches—dumbfounded—at the lack of a response. "Hey, Kai-"

But as soon as he spoke, Kaiser was already out of the door.

He wasn't angry or annoyed that you showed up unannounced. Truthfully, he didn't know what he felt. There was a reason why he avoided bringing you or inviting you to his practices.

You were too kind for your own good and the people here aren't shy about taking advantage of you.

Kaiser was stuck between a rock and hard place. One on hand, he loved that you cared enough about him to go out of your way even help the management or even his team. He couldn't bring himself to scold anyone—especially not you. On another, he knew what they were doing to you. They pretended to be all nice and sweet when asking you favors. But don't they have any shame asking so much from you?

Just like what Mr. Forgettable Name said earlier, you were almost like a manager here. But, fuck that. You're supposed to be a guest. You're his girlfriend, so you deserve nothing but the best treatment.

Yet, here he was—watching you as you scurry around, handing water bottles to his... not teammates. What the hell were you even doing giving water to the second string players? Jesus. He wasn't even sure if they were on the second string.

The more he observed, the angrier he became. Someone better hold him back and tell him what he just witnessed wasn't what he thought because one of the players definitely handed you an empty bottle—which, of course, you threw in the trash for him.

Sure, he's probably tired from running all day and yeah, you were closer to the trash bin. But who the fuck does he think he is to ask you of something like that?

He didn't even notice that his legs moved on their own. His body wanted nothing but to walk over to you. Never mind what his heart was telling him.

"Hey."

You spun around, knowing whose voice it was that almost startled you. His bright blue eyes peered down at you and he seemed... a bit pissed.

"Sorry... I know I should've told you that I was coming today, but-" Kaiser sighs heavily, running his tattooed hand through his blonde locks. "Don't apologize. I'm not mad—I just..."

But he was—he was most definitely mad. Just not at you.

It was like the world was testing the limits of his patience today because damn was he not even able to finish his sentence without another person bothering you.

As Kaiser struggled to express himself, one of the managers taps you on your shoulder. She had on the fake smile she always wore whenever she'd ask you a favor.

"Can you go distribute the lunch for the players today? I just have some paperwork to go over. You know how it is... managers get busy~"

Before you could even respond, Kaiser steps forward—putting distance between you and the manager. "And why would she do that? Isn't that your job?"

You grabbed his arm, telling him that it's alright. In a way, his team and the people who manage it have become your friends. You appreciate them for taking care of your boyfriend while you're not there and you're grateful for their warm greetings whenever you walk past any of them.

There wasn't any issue in you helping these people... or so you thought.

The manager smiles nervously at Kaiser, but she doesn't back down. "Well... I mean... if she's willing to do it, right? What's the harm in that?"

Kaiser exhales audibly. This is why he doesn't confront this dynamic. The manager was partially right because his girlfriend was always willing to help no matter what. Now he looked like the bad guy here.

The conversation shifted to an awkward atmosphere. All three of them felt it. But she was the first to break the ice... as usual.

"Mihya, it's alright. I like helping out the team. Consider it as me helping you as well," she says, smiling warmly.

"Baby," he clicks his tongue. "Forgive me, but... how the hell does it help me when you hand out water and food to these third stringers?"

Your eyes widen. "Mihya! Tone it down; they'll hear you."

He scoffs. "So what? Let them hear it."

At this point, the manager had grown quiet, slowly distancing herself from the developing quarrel.

"I've had enough watching people like her," he says, pointing at the manager before she could escape, "take advantage of you."

"It's not your job to hand out lunch boxes to everyone nor is it your responsibility to make sure they're hydrated. Baby—you might as well wipe their sweat for them while you're at it," he adds.

As he released these pent up frustrations, he failed to notice the gradual increase in the volume of his voice. It wasn't just you and the manager hearing it—but everyone else on the field. Even those who were far away, ran over to the commotion.

Kaiser never gave up even a second for you to butt in. "Remember that time they asked you to run to the nearby convenience store to buy God-knows-what? Or that time you had to go with... with... whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is to the hospital?"

"It's Igor," a faint voice reminds him.

"Shut the fuck up!" he retorts. Kaiser sighs deeply, the realization that everyone else was listening finally dawning on him. "What I'm trying to say is that... I'm just tired of seeing you be used like that, especially since I know how pure your heart is and all that," he says, softly.

He wanted the last part to be heard only by you. After all, you were the only one that mattered to him at the moment.

You were... well... staring at him in awe. Speechless. Unmoving. Stunned.

You were clueless to how he felt. Sure, they did ask too much of you. But you didn't think Kaiser was observing you to that degree. Your heart melted at his personal show of affection right in front of everyone.

"Mihya..."

You felt stupid that you could only mutter his name despite everything he had said. But before you could do anything else, his large hand grabs on to your wrist—pulling you along with him. His strides were purposeful and his grasp was firm. You hurriedly shuffled to keep up with his pace.

After gaining some distance from the group, Kaiser halts and turns to look back at them one last time.

"If I see any of you ask a favor from her again—I'll make sure to deal with you."

A promise and a threat.

He yanks you again and continues walking away. Overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, you try to stop him despite his strength. "Hey... slow down. Let's talk... please?"

Kaiser blatantly ignores you, only stopping once you were inside of the facility and away from prying eyes. The firm grip that once wrapped around your wrist was replaced by a gentle caress as he brought your hand to his lips.

"Sorry... I got carried away. You know I can't let them do tha-"

"It's okay. I understand. Thank you for standing up for me," you say, cutting him off.

He blinks a couple of times, surprised at how well you took it. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad at my boyfriend protecting me?"

You couldn't help but giggle at him. How silly would it be for you to get angry at him right now? What he did was one of the sweetest things anyone could do for someone; not everyone is brave enough to stand up for their significant other like that.

His look of astonishment was quickly replaced with a small smile. "I guess you're right, baby."

And before you know it, you were already caged in his warm embrace.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

o-sachi © 2024

[thef1diary]

Congrats on 3k bby! So I saw the prompt “Don’t you want to play with me?” and omg is that Danny coded. Like I can see something during the offseason where he and reader are both at home, and she’s doing laundry or something and just walks in on him jerking off. And of course we all know our cocky mf has no shame and is just like, “what, you were busy?”

Thank you for encouraging my brainrot 💛

Off-Season | D. Ricciardo

a/n: thank you lovely! I will always encourage danny brainrot and I loved writing this one. 18+ content

prompt: “don’t you want to play with me?”

wc: 600+

masterlist 3k celebration

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

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The off-season usually meant some much needed downtime for you and Daniel. Yet, even with Daniel at home during the break, you found yourself busier than ever. You've been sorting out the house, tackling chores that have piled up while you were travelling to accompany Daniel during the hectic racing season. Today, you've decided to finally start doing laundry, the heap of clothes growing until it was impossible to ignore. As you headed to your bedroom to collect the laundry basket, your mind was running through the mental to-do list that never seemed to end. You opened the door to your bedroom and came to an abrupt halt.

Daniel is there, naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around his cock. His strokes are slow and deliberate, his eyes immediately locking onto yours as you entered.

You stare at him, momentarily taken aback. Your gaze roams over his body shamelessly, taking in every detail as if it was the first time you've seen him naked. His curls are messy, indicating that he ran his hand through it multiple times. His bottom lip is bitten raw, a sign that he's been holding back his moans, trying to stifle the breathy whispers of your name as he edges closer to an orgasm. Daniel's thighs are spread, giving you a clear view of every inch of his tattoos. His hand is fisted around his cock, precum coating his fingers.

You snap out of your trance when a low groan leaves his lips, still moving his hand up and down his cock in a teasing manner. His eyes meet yours again, a playful glint shining in them.

"Don't you want to play with me?" he asks, his voice a mixture of amusement and desire.

"Seriously, baby?" you asked, a smirk curling at your lips.

"What? you were busy," he spoke casually, as if it was a good explanation.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "What were you thinking about?" you asked, your tone turning sultry as you take a step closer, the laundry basket you were here for momentarily forgotten.

"You, of course," he replied without hesitation, his eyes darkening with lust as they trace the curve of your body.

"What about me?" you lean closer to him, your voice dripping with seduction.

“How much better it would feel to have your mouth around my cock instead of my hand," he breathed, his gaze locked on your lips.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you let his words sink in. "Is that so?" you whispered, your voice low and teasing. You let your fingers graze the inside of his thighs, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

With one hand, you gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail and kneel in front of him, settling between his spread legs. His breath hitches, and you see the anticipation in his eyes, moving his hand away from his cock. He gently pushes a loose strand of hair that slipped away from your grasp away from your face.

Just as he thinks you're about to wrap your lips around him, especially with the way your lips parted, you reach under the bed and grab a couple of dirty socks. His eyes widen in disbelief as you stand up, tossing the socks into the laundry basket.

He calls your name when you pick up the basket, turning to head out the door. You pause, looking at him expectantly. Daniel struggles to string a sentence together, but he manages to ask, "are you kidding me?"

You chuckle, giving him a playful glance. "Maybe you should stick to using your imagination since you couldn't wait for me."

He groans, falling back on the bed as he hears the door click shut, his cock still painfully hard awaiting your warm mouth.

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[kumkaniudaku]

Withdrawal Period

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 3.8k

MASTERLIST

Chicago was off the table. No harm done. Crisis averted. 

Enthusiastic courting waned into copy-and-paste follow-up emails a week after Kelvin pushed back against their initial offer with stiff negotiation terms. His mentor always told him not to take the first train coming. You're a black man in a white industry. Make 'em see your worth. They certainly saw something when he returned with an ask for around $10,000 more than the initial salary plus relocation compensation. 

Kelvin didn't hate their offer. It was more than he'd ever made in his life, and it felt fair for his level of experience. But, as he looked up at Asia with her head thrown back in ecstasy while she bounced in his lap, he could think of more than a few reasons to consider other options. 

Call it self-sabotage or plain ol' stupidity – Kelvin didn't care. She was worth a short-term loss for long-term gain. 

Late morning rain pattered against Kelvin's 6th-floor balcony, drowning out the constant ping of work notifications on open laptops. Cold breakfast dishes were abandoned on the counter, hoping their owners would return and finish what they'd started. 

Kelvin sat naked and wide-legged in the center of his couch, totally transfixed by the slow jiggle of Asia's breasts beneath a flimsy tank top she called pajamas. His left thumb dug into her hip crease to keep her rocking body steady, leaving his right hand free to sneak under the soft cotton and satisfy the intense desire to palm one of her fleshy distractions. 

"See, you didn't need me. You got it," Kelvin complimented, guiding his right thumb around her pebbled nipple before letting his jaw fall slack to match Asia's incoming moan. He swallowed to regain waning composure. "Right there, baby. You gon' cum for me?" 

Asia felt her stomach flutter and flip, ushering in a flood of heat between her thighs. She opened her mouth to speak but found nothing but "Ah…" in place of fully formed thoughts. After six days of unrestricted exploration, whole sentences were like needles in a haystack. 

Kelvin wanted to tell Asia how pretty she was, with her lips parted and swollen, while she practiced riding him into the sunset. He would've loved to say something so perfectly and descriptively nasty it put those Zane books he found in his mother's room to shame. If his mind wasn't so clouded with counting every thump, thump, thump of her throbbing core ripping the fabric of time and space, he could've blabbed on and on about how he thought he might be falling in love. 

He wished he could eloquently wrap his myriad feelings into a neat verbal bow, but his usual loquacious nature packed up and left with his common sense. All he could think to do was tug the top of her thin camisole down to free a pair of breasts he needed to get his mouth on. 

Hips bucked in his firm, one-handed grasp, the friction of thigh on thigh creating a deliciously painful burn to mix with a crescendo of pleasure bound to end in two raspy voices hitting the very edge of their vocal ranges. 

Like a Jack in the Box being wound too tight turn by turn, Asia prepared to shoot up in the air from pent-up pressure. Calculated swivels devolved into frenetic humping to satisfy her aching clit. She palmed the back of his head for leverage, pushing more of her nipple into his mouth. 

Kelvin's eyes flitted up to admire the beauty coming undone on top of him. It was cute, but not enough. If they were going to risk Teams bubbles turning from green to yellow, it'd better be worth the hassle of explaining their whereabouts. 

A bear hug with his wrists crossed at the small of Asia's back helped Kelvin keep her body in place as he rutted up into her like a man possessed. He bit into her shoulder, hoping to muffle the peculiar sound fighting to embarrass him in the worst moment possible. 

Broken moans became muffled with a searing kiss dominated by probing tongues until separate but equally explosive orgasms turned healthy 30-somethings into heaving, short-of-breath adults unable to contain competing loud sighs. 

Asia continued to rock into Kelvin, keeping his nose pressed into her clavicle until overstimulation made her thighs quiver beyond her limit. "Okay," she panted. "That one was better than last night." 

"But not better than Wednesday, right?" Kelvin asked as his palms roamed her backside. He put his back into that midweek tryst. No way it'd be usurped before the end of the week. 

"Mm," she hummed, thinking back a few days. "Wednesday loses points because you made me catch a cramp."

Kelvin huffed out a short laugh. "I didn't make you do anything. You gotta start stretching, babe. Eat your potassium. Something. Because I'm not stopping."

"Oh, really?" Asia's voice and eyes were low again to match her lazy grin aimed down at Kelvin. 

He smiled back before leaning up to kiss her lips. "Mm-mm. I like you too much."

"And I love that for you."

Sweet kisses pressed to plush lips in private had become their favorite way to communicate the feelings quickly ballooning past mild fondness. They moved like a couple without official recognition. Union was understood, but they still needed the explanation if either dared sidestep uncertainty and dive head first.

"You love me?" Kelvin asked, his eyebrow arching playfully. 

Asia verbally backpedaled to clarify. "No, no, no. I said I love that for you," she giggled. "I guess you're cool too, though."

Kelvin turned his lips up to hide a budding smile. "Yeah, yeah. Get off me. Some of us have real work to do." he joked before carefully separating their bodies. 

A light tap to her half-naked backside from her lover helped send Asia on her way toward the primary bathroom with giddy laughter and loose hips. Kelvin watched her until she disappeared, so enamored by her hips swaying he nearly forgot about the obligations screaming for his attention across the room. 

He'd felt the unexplainable tingle of joy before. Who hadn't experienced their heart soar from a baby's cherub-faced smile or finding money in their front pocket? The emotion wasn't new, but it was different this time around. Ubiquitous. All consuming like southern humidity in the middle of August. Having Asia in his life was nothing short of the kind of whimsy found in children experiencing the world for the first time. With her, everything was brand new and exciting. He'd go through hell and high water two times over to turn love's embers into a raging bonfire. 

Time apart to make themselves presentable brought them back together for more kisses and fondling that threatened to derail their second attempt at starting the workday. 

A left hand full of ass and a right haphazardly holding an expensive laptop kept Kelvin suspended between two worlds as he stood beside Asia. She leaned into soft kisses on her clothed shoulder while trying to make sense of missed messages. "I need to go home around lunch to get more clothes," she mentioned over quick tapping noises from her fingers dancing across her keyboard. "Need anything while I'm out?" 

"Nope. Make sure you get enough to stay longer this time. No sense in going across the city every two days." 

"You sayin' I should leave clothes over here?" 

Kelvin shrugged once Asia looked back at him to confirm. "Would it be easier for you?" 

"Sure," Asia answered, pondering the appropriate response to such a loaded proposition. "I guess so. Don't let me put you out of your space, though. It's okay for us to be separate sometimes."

"Who said we can't be? Leave some stuff, just in case. Either way, the drawer's gonna be empty if you wanna use it." 

Having spare undergarments and pajamas would make for a less cumbersome commute. More money going to her pockets and not into her gas tank was never a problem. There was certainly no harm in being prepared. Just in case, of course. 

Asia leaned close enough to kiss Kelvin's nose. "Okay. I'll bring a few things back." 

Victory. Kelvin completed an internal happy dance, the only physical manifestation resting in a megawatt smile as he stood straight up to pluck cold hashbrowns from a baking sheet on the stove.

"Make sure one of those is something for tonight," he called over his shoulder. "Still up for the game and a late dinner?" 

"Yeah, of course. Who knows? I might get tipsy enough to let you bend me over the edge of the bed tonight."

Near frigid shredded potato flew to the back of Kelvin's throat, temporarily blocking air from entering and leaving. Asia turned slightly to watch him in amusement until he could choke out a response. "Tonight?" He questioned, eyes practically bulging from his head. "You want to?" 

"Yeah. We can make a stop for extra…supplies. I didn't think we'd run out so fast." 

"You killin' the hell out the turtles, girl. Latex all in the ocean." 

Shock stretched Asia's jaw into an oblong oval. "Wow, so you gon' make me take all the blame? I should –"

Shrill ringing turned Asia's laptop into a blaring siren, reminding her she was a working woman with a long list of responsibilities despite being hours away from the weekend's short-lived freedom. 

Frantic hands shooed Kelvin and his shirtless body out of the camera's view while Asia previewed her surroundings in the pre-meeting waiting room. He reluctantly obliged, shuffling to the other side of the island on his way toward the bedroom to prepare for his own slate of back-to-back virtual connects. 

"Hey, hey." Savannah's familiar monotoned greeting filled the room once Asia connected, her voice far off while she rearranged windows between her monitor and laptop. When she finally looked up, her eyes squinted behind blue-light-blocking glasses. "Oh. I didn't know you were on vacation. What the hell are you doing online? Nice spot, by the way." 

Asia tried to remain cool. "I'm just working away from home today. Trying to get a different view. You know how it goes." 

Across the room, Kelvin complimented Asia's quick thinking with an approving head nod. She kept her face neutral to appease Savannah and to hide the stiff middle finger emphatically shot in his direction.

"No, totally feel that. I swear I've seen those exact cabinets before, though. All these buildings look the same now."

"I know, right. It's like, be original. That's how people get caught up." 

Silent laughter and a sarcastic thumbs-up greeted Asia once her eyes flickered up, working hard to snatch down the veil and expose her off-the-cuff ruse. She shooed Kelvin away without stumbling over her preamble, but not before noticing an air kiss tossed in her direction. 

She pretended to catch it and covertly pressed it to her cheek with a smile. "Alright. Let's jump in."

Home team wins paired well with fruity cocktails and starters shared over Top 40 radio playing far too loud for a restaurant. The only thing missing was the dessert requested before a second round could hit the table.

Asia and Kelvin shared peculiar yet tasty fusion dishes side by side, practically draped over each other, in a dimly lit late-night spot that Kelvin highly recommended. 

"How do you know about all these places? You're like the Black Guy Fieri." 

Kelvin chuckled in between chews of a popcorn shrimp. "I've moved around a couple times. Been a couple places. Might as well explore, right?"

"Ooh, Kelvin lore. My favorite!" The chance to learn more about him had Asia wiggling in her seat like an excitable child. "Tell me more."

Kelvin smiled back at Asia, taking time to admire all of her beautiful features under dim light. She was the girl of his dreams and didn't even know the half. He reached out to brush one of her double bangs out of her face before speaking. "After high school, I didn't know what I wanted to do. My dad was pushing seminary, but I knew I didn't want to be a pastor like him. I thought about music school, but music was just a thing I liked. I didn't love it," he recalled. "I moved to Houston to live with my sister for a year. Ate like crazy out there. Then I let some folks I met convince me to work in Portland before it was cool."

"What was that like," Asia asked, amazed by his journey.

"Shit weather, solid food," Kelvin laughed. "After that, I was a pescatarian with a girl I met during a summer abroad in Brazil. Full on vegan for another girl when I found some work in Miami. Then I came here and buckled down. Found copywriting then…you."

Asia grinned over her glass of water. "What do you plan on being for me?" 

"Honest." Kelvin's candor and steady eye contact stirred Asia's soul in a way she'd never encountered but didn't want to imagine losing. They met each other halfway, lips locking with no regard for patrons and what they might think about two people necking in public. Pulling away, Kelvin wiped away traces of him from Asia's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "You got any more questions for me? 

When can we get the check? "You ever thought about leaving here?" 

His decision to be an honest man wasn't supposed to yield an immediate test. Kelvin immediately and visibly tensed, knocking Asia off-kilter for a millisecond. "Yeah," he answered without much added flare. He leaned forward to grab his glass of water, hoping a long sip could cure his raging bout of anxiety. "I, um…I interviewed recently for something in Chicago." 

"How recently?" 

"Like a week or two ago." Before Asia could ask the question playing behind her eyes, Kelvin stepped in to offer an explanation. "It was before we said what we said last week and hasn't gone anywhere. Nothing to worry about. I promise." 

Asia let her thoughts briefly shift her eyes to a spot on the outdoor patio, then back to Kelvin. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I didn't want to bring it up until I was sure. Plus, we've been kind of busy since then." His joke helped deflate the tension balloon between them, earning an eye roll and smile from Asia. Kelvin gripped her knee and flashed a reassuring smile. "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. We're good."

"I know. I get it. You're supposed to find something that fulfills you." Equally lovestruck smiles turned into puckered lips pressing against each other once, twice, then a third time to seal in deepening attachment. Asia's fingers danced across worn upholstery and up thick cotton to rest her hand on Kelvin's thigh. "Just make sure you don't go too far from me." 

A twinge of something he couldn't place turned Kelvin's low eyes and soft smile into a pensive expression. He could promise monogamy and effort, but sticking to one place was less certain. The constant search for inspiration wouldn't let him settle for long – not while he was still free to roam without the responsibility of family obligations. 

Kelvin watched Asia pull a loaded nacho from a plate at the center of the table, trying to convince himself to breech a difficult topic. "Is that a deal breaker for you?" His question came out as an incomplete thought, forcing him to quickly clarify. "The distance, I mean. Is long-distance a deal breaker for you?" 

"Deal breaker is strong, but I don't think I'd be interested. I think I like having my person a short drive away, you know? I wouldn't want to give that up." 

"Hm." A short grunt, not even a sentence, was all Kelvin could muster from a mind flushed with equal parts relief and dismay. 

Asia didn't seem to catch how he shifted in his spot, and Kelvin didn't allow himself to linger in racing thoughts. Chicago wasn't happening. No need to stew. No need to ask the question burning the tip of his tongue. 

"We could've tried, though. Right?" A mouth that liked to run far too much betrayed him before he could think.

An answer trying to break through all the noise in the room was quickly engulfed in a spectacle of dazzling sparklers and scattered murmurs as a carefully constructed plate of praline mousse and cornflake peanut butter crunch was escorted to their table. 

As she clapped and wiggled in excitement, the childlike joy in Asia's eyes reminded Kelvin that the night wasn't meant for complicated discussions. He had a more pressing question to ask. 

Will you be my girlfriend? The words written in milk chocolate on bright white porcelain weren't enough on their own. They needed a drawn-out monologue shouted on the tabletop with trumpets as a soundtrack fit for a woman who'd knocked the air out of his lungs and put it all back before he could make sense of what exactly they were doing. 

Kelvin leaned in to kiss Asia's cheek and rubbed his nose against the spot before speaking. "Is the drive between my place and yours short enough?" 

"Mhmm," Asia answered. Taking his chin between her index finger and thumb, she leaned in for a kiss he returned with deliberate softness. "I love this. Thank you." 

"You love it enough to say yes?"

"Yes! Yes!" 

Skin slapping against skin sounded like resounding applause in a room fortified with thick cement walls. Thank God for refurbished builds. 

Asia lay flat beneath Kelvin, her face contorted in needy pleasure against one of the pillows she'd claimed as hers while he plowed into her from behind. He'd long lost any semblance of the sweet, gentle Kelvin planning extravagant proposals in swanky establishments. This Kelvin was focused on using his pelvis to put the sweaty, tensing body under his through an expensive pillowtop mattress. 

He pressed his palms deeper into the space on either side of Asia's head for added leverage. "Yeah? You gettin' what you need, baby?" 

"Uh-huh," she moaned out, delirious from a range of sensations. The fullness. Her clit rubbing against the pillow lifting her hips to the perfect height. The precise push and tug of his body inside of hers. The feeling of his lips against her ear once he lowered onto his forearms to grind into her. 

Measured breaths transitioned into shudders quietly released directly into eardrums, feasting on every sound. 

Kelvin mentally cursed the thin material keeping him from fully experiencing the truly mind-numbing effects of good pussy.  The combination of her arousal and a half-empty bottle of tingling lube got him damn close, though. Close enough to edge him toward premature release as he hunched into her until his legs started to give out from exhaustion and the damp spot below them expanded.

He dug into his energy reserve, riding her wave and his with frenzied strokes, rocking their bodies and the bed. Light, airy sighs and a barely audible squelch greeted his senses. "You hear her talkin' to me?" The question came in a low rumble only Asia could hear, turning her brain into mush as her eyes started to roll back. Kelvin smiled. "You think she like me? Hm?" 

"Yeah," Asia answered in a drawn-out breath. 

"I can tell. Look how wet she is for me. I like her, too." His lips found hers to speak directly into her mouth. "Shit, I might love her." 

Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and pulsating walls pushed Asia and Kelvin over the edge within seconds of each other, sending shockwaves from crown to soles and back again. Oxytocin surged. Once lucid, thoughts felt like the loose liquid inside a hot lava lamp. Moans released in tandem became labored breaths from lungs gasping for any air left in the room. Skin grew hot from a lover's embrace. Tight muscles felt sore from overexertion. Still, neither of them was willing to end a night slipping away by the second. 

Asia gulped hard under Kelvin's weight and turned to see more of his face. "I need some water." Her raspy voice made them both laugh. "You got me sounding like fuckin' Doc Rivers." 

"Timeout!" A near-perfect impersonation of the famed NBA coach sent them into a gut-busting fit of laughter amid thick sexual tension. They knew this was only an interlude as Kelvin pulled out of Asia's warmth to roll over on his back and let her free. 

Already missing his touch, Asia shuffled over to rest her naked chest on top of his. He affectionately caressed her behind while she kissed the corner of his mouth. "Don't fall asleep while I'm gone." 

"I closed my eyes one time the other day! It was like two in the morning," Kelvin chuckled. The hand resting on Asia's backside lifted and came back down in the stinging smack she'd grown accustomed to. "Grab me one of those GU packets from the counter? Any flavor." 

"Of course." Tender kisses and a lasting squeeze against one cheek sent Asia on her way, leaving Kelvin to bask in the afterglow of a day growing more legendary by the second. 

Rational thinking would've told him to ignore the tempting glow emanating from his phone resting on the nightstand had he listened. Notifications littering the screen were nothing more than basketball final scores, text messages from his friends wanting the scoop on his night, and emails he'd get back to at some point. A sale reminder from his favorite art supply retailer caught his attention first. That 15 percent off was a godsend; he still had three days to take advantage of in-store savings. 

Kelvin should've put the phone down, closed his eyes despite his promise not to, and listened to Asia slam cabinets like she'd lost her mind while he waited for her to return. He shouldn't have continued to scroll. Stopping short would've saved him from seeing a response to his negotiation email sent during the fourth quarter of their night out with an opening line that looked a little too jovial for a rejection. 

His breathing paused for a second too long, sending him into a coughing fit loud enough to alert Asia in the other room. 

She called out to him. "You okay in there?" 

"Y-yeah," Kelvin sputtered out before tossing the phone to the floor as far away as possible. "I just – oh, shit – I could use that water right now." 

Bare feet padding across hardwood floors reminded him to fix his face before Asia appeared at the threshold with everything needed to keep an unforgettable night going. "Now. Where were we?" Hearing her carefully rehearsed line finally enter the atmosphere made her cringe. "That was corny. I'm sorry. Did I ruin the mood?" 

"Not with you standing there looking like that," Kelvin answered, a smile gracing his face despite the turmoil twisting his stomach in knots.

He beckoned her over, carefully retrieving items from her hands as she lifted herself onto the bed. He needed a distraction, and from the way Asia's body responded to Kelvin's slow kissing against her neck, she was more than willing to take his mind off the truth becoming abundantly clear. 

Chicago was still on the table. Harm may be done. Crisis not averted.

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[harkharknessness]

lucid (part two)

summary: You've got the journal back, but it doesn't help your spiral... especially once you look more closely at what's inside. warnings: nothing really, i think. allusions to sexy dreams. weaponized bureaucracy, mention of “female anatomy” but only in the anatomical sense, it's a slow burn, folks. word count: 5.2k (part one) (ao3)

You stared at the book in your hands. You stared so long that you could see the pen marks on the insides of your eyelids when you blinked.

This couldn’t be real. You had to be imagining things thanks to the lack of sleep and the abundance of anxiety you’d accumulated over the last few days.

But you kept looking, and the words on the page didn’t change. So you flipped to the next page. More red. And on the next. And the next.

Almost every page was littered with annotations, arrows, underlines, and at the bottom of each entry, a grade.

An actual letter grade.

She’d marked up the notebook as if it were just an essay you’d turned in for class. Academic feedback on the dreams you’d had about her.

After one paragraph, which you could tell you could tell by the slope of your handwriting that you’d written in the middle of the night, she noted:

C. Rushed. Grammatically inconsistent. Suspension of disbelief stretched to its limits.

Your face hadn’t stopped burning since she’d handed the notebook back to you, but it was hotter than ever as you read her critique.

You wanted to stop already. You needed to close the book or risk losing any remaining shred of self-respect you still had.

But something wouldn’t let you. Morbid curiosity, maybe. Or perhaps the chance that something she’d written in the margins would give you just a little bit of a thrill, whether or not she’d intended to do so.

A few pages later, in the margins of a longer, more detailed entry:

Your focus wanders here, bordering on sensory overload. Choose a lens: touch, sight, sound? One will do.

Then there was just:

Good.

Good. Good? What was good about it?

You couldn’t bring yourself to revisit whatever dream that comment appeared next to. You hadn’t reread any of them, actually, and didn’t think you’d ever be able to read any of them again, knowing she had seen them all. You’d just think to yourself She’s read this, at the end of each sentence.

And then maybe you’d have to scream into a pillow.

Between all the thinking and screaming, it would take an excruciatingly long time to get through even a short entry.

Still, you quietly folded the corner of the page over itself, just in case you ever did want to find out.

At the bottom of another page she’d written,

B-. Demonstrates a weak understanding of the female anatomy—surprising, considering the extensive knowledge on display elsewhere.

You felt a wave of shame like you’d never felt before. What had you possibly written to make her say that? And was it better that you’d apparently made up for it elsewhere? Or did that make it worse?

Worse. Definitely worse.

Then you read:

An impossible position for anyone but a contortionist, which the professor—to my knowledge—is not. If she is, that should be established earlier in the narrative.

and your knees buckled. Your free hand barely found the corner of your mattress to keep you from falling to the floor. That one felt… different. Like a confirmation that she knew. Like a claim. And you didn’t know what to do with that.

As you neared the end of the notebook, it became harder and harder to continue. You didn’t have to read these dreams to know what they were about. They were fresh, not yet buried with the rest. You knew exactly what she was referencing in her notes now, so when she wrote something that was just a little too specific, you had to take a deep breath and close your eyes, letting the part of you that was begging you to stop and the other part keeping you moving forward fight it out.

When you finally made it to the last page, to the entry you’d made the day the journal went missing, there was a mixture of horror and relief as you read:

Your subject has proven to have quite the manual-oral fixation. Fascinating.

written right next to where you’d described swirling your tongue around her fingers.

You slumped back, your shoulders thudding against the wall, as if your body had only just caught up to what your mind had been feeling for days.

Your eyes swept over the final grade of the book.

A. Compelling, if not overindulgent.

Something turned warm in your chest—an “A” from Agatha Harkness? Unheard of, even in the classroom—but it chilled a second later when you read the line below:

See me during office hours.

You slammed the notebook shut and threw it across the room like it had burned you. Your head fell forward into your hands, fingers pressing against your scalp, trying to give yourself something to focus on besides the inky words floating around in your mind.

It would’ve been one thing to receive the notebook back as it had been. Just your words on the page in dark-colored inks. Nothing more, nothing less. There would’ve still been plausible deniability in that.

But this? There was no hiding from it. She’d not only seen what was inside; she’d read it. Analyzed it. Added her own words to it right alongside yours. Probably laughed the entire time.

And after all that, she wanted you to go to her office hours for what? So she could scold you? Humiliate you more? You weren’t naive enough to hope anything good (Good. Fuck. What an awful little word.) could come of it. Or maybe you were, but you were telling yourself you knew better.

So, no. You wouldn’t be going to office hours. You wouldn’t even be going to class for the foreseeable future. You were going to do whatever it took to never be in the same room with Agatha ever again.

The notebook remained on the floor in the corner of the room overnight—its new home as far as you were concerned—and it wasn’t going anywhere. Not until you moved out or found the nerve to burn it on the roof some night.

Maybe at some point, when you could stand to look at it again, you’d pick it up and put it somewhere a little more out of the way, like under the mattress or in a drawer. But even if it wasn’t in the most convenient place for now, it was still here, in your dorm, and not there, wherever that had been.

(In her office? In her home? If you weren’t careful you could picture her sitting up in bed, notebook open against bent knees and glasses perched on her nose as she read, smirking non-stop. But you tried not to think about that.)

But, as you were about to head out the door the next morning, you found yourself bending down and slipping the notebook into your bag, a self-betrayal you couldn’t stop. It was like you suddenly couldn’t bear to have it out of sight, like if you couldn’t see it or touch it within three seconds of thinking about it, you risked diving headfirst into another spiral about it going missing.

You wouldn’t acknowledge that, maybe, there was something else tethering you to the book, something more than just the fear that it would disappear again.

It was the same thing that compelled you to fan through the pages as you sat in the quad with your mug in your other hand, pretending not to look at it all while hoping for the faintest flash of red ink that would make your cheeks burn and your chest tight at the same time. It was the same thing that made you rub the one folded corner of a page between your thumb and forefinger anytime you weren’t taking notes in your seminar. The thing that had you clutching it to your chest as you peeked discreetly around corners, looking for her even in places she had no business being.

You were flipping through the pages again as you sat down for dinner that night—not seeing anything inside except the occasional flash of color—when Wanda slid into the seat across from you like she’d appeared from nowhere.

You jumped and your finger lost its place in the pages, causing the rest of the notebook to fall closed with a soft thud.

Wanda’s brow raised in amusement.

“Whoa. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you nodded, then took a deep breath through your nose. “You just surprised me.”

Wanda nodded back, but you could tell you hadn’t dispelled all of her suspicions. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing toward the notebook.

You shrugged, trying to regain some of your composure, but you’d lost the upper hand on subtlety already. “Just notes.”

“Did they get graded? What was all that red?”

“New memorization technique.”

“Can I see?” Wanda asked, reaching for the notebook. The way you saw it, it almost seemed to float into her waiting hand before you pulled it off the table entirely.

“No.”

“Okay… You’re being weird,” Wanda said, and you knew it was true, but you didn’t give in. The notebook remained securely in your grip under the table. “But fine. I don’t need to look at your secret note-taking strategy. If I fail this test for the gen-ed class I’m taking, though, I’ll blame you.”

You laughed once, sharp. “Blame yourself for not taking it freshman year like the rest of us.”

Wanda tilted her head as if demonstrating her decision to disengage, then stood. “I’m going to go get food.”

You followed, but not before putting the notebook back into your bag.

You checked three times to make sure it was still there before you left the cafeteria after you’d finished eating, even though you felt pathetic by the second look. Wanda pretended not to notice.

Thursday morning came and went. You stayed in bed—just staring at the ceiling, not even scrolling on your phone—long past the time you should’ve been in Harkness’s class. But even if you weren’t physically there, your mind was.

The slide on the projection screen would have the name of the day’s lecture in a simple, bold font; nothing garish. She’d probably started with a reminder of the midterm due date, then offered up a general berating to the procrastinators. Maybe she’d looked over to her right, seen your empty seat, and had to pause. Nothing dramatic, just for a second. So brief, no one would really even notice. But you would’ve.

Then you shook yourself out of your own head because, even after everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, you still wanted that. And it was humiliating.

You spent the weekend almost entirely in your room, surviving off the stash of almost-expired snacks and a few water bottles you’d forgotten were hidden in the back of your mini-fridge. Texts came in from friends, but you didn’t respond to any of them until Wanda threatened to come over and drag you out herself if you didn’t give some proof of life.

Somehow, this weekend was even worse than the last when you had been running all over Westview. You didn’t realize then that ignorance really was bliss. The stillness was suffocating, and the knowing was tearing you up inside.

But that wasn’t keeping you from getting stuck on a whole new set of unanswered questions.

Why had she bothered to give the notebook back, and why had she written those notes inside of it? Was it just to tease and torture you? A silly little mind game she decided to play with you? You wouldn’t put it past her, and if that’s all it was, you’d have to begrudgingly appreciate her commitment to the bit, even if it made you want to disappear to start a new life in some faraway country.

Why had she read it at all, once she knew what you were writing about? Was it just the same compulsive curiosity that had kept you reading her commentary? Just some sort of sick delight from finding something herself pulled into so completely indecent?

But… she had made sure you knew she read everything. There wasn’t a single page without some kind of marking, at least not once you got past the class notes and the less scandalous dream fodder from earlier in the year. That had to mean something. Right?

No matter what you tried to do—read, do homework, or even just scroll on some stupid app on your phone—the questions wouldn’t leave you alone.

More than once, you were tempted to press on the bruise. You’d even pick up the journal and stare for a long time at its cover, but you could never bring yourself to actually open it up. The most you could do was feel for that folded corner and run your finger over the crease, back and forth. By the time you were in classes on Monday, the crease was so soft that the little paper triangle was barely hanging on anymore.

By Monday night, the feeling had become unbearable; you had to do something to stop it from continuing to fester.

At nine-thirty on Tuesday morning, you left your dorm as you normally would, but instead of making the journey to the room on the third floor of the Stark building, you found yourself heading toward the administrative offices.

You were standing in front of the registrar’s window by the time the bell tolled to mark the start of the 9:45 classes.

When the student worker—Kate, according to her name tag—asked you what you needed, you didn’t hesitate. “A course withdrawal form, please.”

She shuffled through a row of file folders before plucking up a half-sheet of paper.

“Here you go,” she said, holding it out for you to take. “Better hurry. Deadline’s Friday.”

You shifted the weight of your bag higher onto your shoulder and clicked your pen. “I can just fill it out right now. I’m not in a rush.”

“You can fill out most of it,” Kate agreed, “but you need a signature from your advisor if you’re going to drop to part-time.”

“That’s okay,” you assured both her and yourself, positioning the tip of your pen on the First Name line. “I still have enough hours.”

“And you have to get one from your professor, too.”

Your heart sank.

Your eyes scanned the form and, yep, down in the bottom right corner, a line for an instructor’s signature.

You glanced back up at Kate. Her face was schooled into a look of practiced sympathy, like you weren’t the first person she’d had to break that news to. “Rough semester?”

You snorted. “Something like that.”

“Well,” Kate said, leaning forward on the surface of her side of the counter. “You can try the online form. Usually if the professor gets it by email, they’ll just sign it and send it back. Nothing in person.”

That was the best news you’d heard in over a week. You looked up at her, eyes wide and grateful. “You are a lifesaver.”

She laughed quietly before collapsing back in her chair. “Good luck,” she said with a tilt of her head before you walked back toward the exit.

The bell in the campus clock tower started to signal it was ten o’clock just as you stepped back into your dorm building. Agatha would be three slides deep into her PowerPoint by now.

When you got back up to your room, you sat down at the desk in the corner. You almost never sat there—the wooden chair was uncomfortable and you could hear the music that your neighbor seemed to play around the clock even more clearly than usual. But it felt like the right place for now.

You grabbed your laptop out of your bag and pulled up the registrar’s website, searching for the digital version of the form you’d crumpled into a ball on your way back; there was no way in hell you were using the paper copy.

When you finally downloaded it, you filled in the fields in record time. You wanted to get it over and done as quickly as possible; there was no point in delaying it. You were never setting within fifty feet of Agatha Harkness ever again, and this form was step one toward that goal.

The basics were easy—name, date, student ID, course number—but you hesitated when you got to “Reason for withdrawing.”

You couldn’t very well say: “My professor read through all of the sex dreams I’ve had about her, so I now need to use the class time to attend very intense and targeted therapy instead.”

So, after thinking a little bit more, you went with, “Course load too heavy.”

It was kind of true, or at least, you could argue it if you had to. Besides, seniors dropped classes all the time, realizing too late that they only had energy for the bare minimum in their last couple semesters.

You sent the completed form to the printer down the hall, then walked down to sign it and scan it back in. As you walked back down the hall with the printed copy in hand, your eyes were drawn to the last space you needed to fill.

Instructor’s signature.

It wasn’t written in red ink, but it haunted you just as much as any of the writing in your notebook.

When you got back to your room, you sat down at your desk and opened a blank email. You attached the scan first, something that allowed you to feel productive without actually doing any of the real work. But once the file showed up at the bottom of the window, loaded, there was just you and a blinking cursor.

You took a deep breath and typed:

Subject: Course withdrawal

Good morning, Professor Harkness,

I’ve decided I need to withdraw from your course. I’ve filled out the form (attached), so all it needs is your signature. Would you mind signing it so I can turn it in to the registrar? The deadline is coming up on Friday.

Thank you in advance.

You scanned the message twice for typos, even in your auto-generated signature. It wasn’t like it mattered at this point, but you had just recently realized you had a fear of being “grammatically inconsistent.”

Then you hit Send.

The reply came almost instantly, even though class should’ve still been in session—maybe you were missing a quiz.

Subject: RE: Course withdrawal

Bring it to office hours.

-AH

You read the email over and over again until the words stopped making sense and a metallic taste tinged the inside of your mouth; in the silence, you’d managed to bite enough skin off your lip that it had started to bleed.

Of course, that’s how she responded. You should’ve known better.

So, now, you weren’t just facing a W.

You were getting an F.

Because there was no way in hell you were going to go to Harkness’s office hours to ask her permission, in person, to drop her class. And there was an even smaller chance of you ever going to class again.

So between the lack of attendance and the assignments and tests you’d miss, you were going to fail.

An F, though… And after you’d worked so hard over the last few years. Were you going to take the hit to your GPA so you could avoid a few minutes (awkward, humiliating, and soul-destroying as they would be) of embarrassment? Avoiding her wouldn’t make her somehow unread those things you’d written about her, and screwing up your transcript wouldn’t change the words she’d written on those pages.

Then again, how much damage could one little F do, right? Maybe it just sounded bad, and it wouldn’t drop your GPA by more than a few decimal points. And you could start planning right now on how to talk your way out of it if someone ever happened to question the course on your transcript.

The ideas chased each other in and out of your thoughts for the next hour as you lay on your bed on top of the covers. You were missing your second class of the day, again, just to stare up at the ceiling of your dorm, like the pinholes in the tiles would rearrange themselves to spell out a solution for you.

Your phone buzzed on your stomach and you almost ignored it, feeling like the mere act of raising it up was beyond your current capabilities. But when it buzzed again a few minutes later, you picked it up.

A calendar reminder was fixed in the middle of your screen.

Harkness office hours: 3-5 PM

You’d set the alert just a few days before your journal had gone missing, assuming you’d want the time to ask a few final questions before turning in your term paper. And then a second alert for good measure.

If you were going to get that signature, you only had two chances to do it—today’s office hours or Thursday’s.

So you could sit with the pit of dread in your stomach for two more days, risk skipping again and securing your F. Or you could go now. Get it over with.

You could probably even avoid seeing her one-on-one. You just had to stake out her office and wait for another student to go in, then interrupt so you’d have an unwitting buffer between yourself and Agatha.

So, that afternoon, that was what you did.

Or tried to do.

You walked into the department and took up camp on a bench down the hall from Harkness’s office, waiting for someone, anyone, to knock so you could hijack their meeting. But you sat there for over an hour, and not one other person walked up to that door. You knew people were afraid of her, but it was midterm season, and still, no one was there.

When an hour became an hour and forty-five minutes, you debated leaving. There was still one more session of office hours before the form was due. You could wait down the hall again, and maybe someone else would show up then. And if they didn’t, well, you’d have a decision to make. But at least you didn’t have to make it right now.

Releasing a deep sigh through your nose, you got up to leave, but a door creaked open further down the hall and stopped you cold, only halfway standing.

You felt her before you saw her; her gaze was too heavy to ignore. But, oh, did you try. And, despite knowing exactly how it would play out, you prayed to whatever higher power was out there that she would ignore you too.

“Leaving?” she asked, cool-voiced, but there was something in the undercurrent that felt familiar in a way you couldn’t explain.

You closed your eyes and let out a soft breath through your nose before finally turning your head to look over at her.

She was standing just outside the doorway to her office, coffee mug in one hand, phone in the other. She was still but not frozen, her thumb hovering deliberately over her screen like she’d been mid-scroll when she’d noticed you. The fabric of her button-down rustled softly as she moved to lean against the door frame.

You scrambled for words. “Yeah, I was,” you said, finally noticing the burn in your hamstrings and shoulders from the way you were still half-hunched over. You stood the rest of the way with as much confidence as you could muster.

“So you’re not here to see me,” she said more than she asked.

“No.” The word somehow stretched itself into two syllables, the second lifting a half-octave higher than you mean it to.

She nodded, raising her mug in your direction before turning and heading down the hallway in the opposite direction, but left her door cracked just enough to say I’ll be back. It wasn’t for your benefit, you told yourself. She’d just left it that way in case anyone else showed up. There were still a few minutes of her office hours left, after all.

A voice in your head was screaming for you to leave. She’d given you the opportunity. You needed to take it. Go. Leave. Run.

But you weren’t moving.

She had already seen you, and as much as you hated knowing that, you hated the idea of retreat even more. Cowardice from afar, you clearly had no problem with. But cowardice in person? It would probably be the most humiliating part of the whole thing when all was said and done. If you left now, you wouldn’t be coming back.

So you took another deep breath, rolled back your shoulders, and straightened your spine. You could do it. You could hand her a piece of paper and wait a few seconds for her to sign it. That’s all it would take. And then you could leave and move on from Agatha Harkness with your dignity intact. (Mostly… Kind of… A little bit, anyway.)

She didn’t seem too surprised to find you’d floated closer to her office door by the time she returned, coffee mug steaming in her hand.

“Thought you didn’t need to see me,” she said before bringing the cup to her lips. Still neutral. Still not giving anything away.

“I don’t,” you said. “I just need a signature.”

You both stood there, wrapped in the silence, before she reached out and pushed the door fully open. “Come in, then.”

She walked inside, and you followed, but at a distance. You stopped only a few steps into the room, maybe because you didn’t know what would happen if you got any closer, or maybe giving yourself space to bolt if needed.

She didn’t offer you a seat, and she didn’t take one herself. She just leaned against the front of her desk, one arm bracing her against the edge and the other holding the mug near her face as she watched you.

“The form,” she said, holding her hand out expectantly. Her first two fingers curled twice in quick succession, and you had to hide the hitch of your breath as you handed the paper over.

She took it and held it just below eye level, gaze flicking back and forth as she skimmed the filled-in fields. “Course load too heavy,” she read, tone deadpanned. Not mocking. Just shy of amused.

“Yes,” you nodded. You rolled your shoulders back again like a change in posture would help anything. “I’m working on my senior project and I have two other required classes I think I should focus on.”

She set the form beside her on the desk, then the coffee cup on the other, before crossing her arms over her chest.

“This isn’t about something else?” Her eyes flicked to the paper then back up like a dare.

“No.” You gestured to the form as if it had already explained everything. “I’ve just got a lot of other work to handle.”

She hummed as if she knew better but wouldn’t say so.

The quiet fell between you again, but she made no move to sign the form. Not even to grab a pen. She just stood still. Unwavering. Even more unnerving with silence than with her most cutting words.

You couldn’t take it.

“They’re not about you,” you finally said. You didn’t know if that was what she wanted to hear, and it certainly wasn’t what you planned to say, but it was out there, and you had to go with it. “I just wanted you to know that. They’re about one of my other professors.”

She tilted her head, the corners of her lips twitching almost imperceptibly. “I didn’t know there was another Agatha on the faculty. You’ll have to introduce me.”

So you had written her name somewhere in those pages. You’d known this whole time it had to be true. You just hadn’t wanted to admit it.

She exhaled through her nose, a small but knowing smirk breaking out across her face, and, God, it felt so familiar—the tendrils that had fallen in her face lay exactly where they always did before you brushed them back in your sleep. You swallowed. Hard.

“Easier question, then,” she offered like it was a favor, but you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from sighing. “How will this affect your graduation status?”

“I can just take it with Professor Hayward in the spring.”

She didn’t even try to stifle her scoff. “The only thing that man hates more than an undergraduate lecture is a department meeting.”

You shrugged. “A class is a class.”

The look that flashed across her face told you she was highly unimpressed with your answer, but it disappeared in the time it took to push off from where she was leaning against the desk and walk around to sit in her chair behind it. Her elbows perched on the tabletop, and she rested her chin on her laced finger, assessing you with sharp blue eyes that somehow made your skin sting.

Finally, she reached one hand out and tapped her fingertips over the form, acknowledging it for the first time since she’d set it down. You watched as her nails clicked rhythmically right over the space that was empty and waiting for her signature.

“So,” she said, breaking your trance. “Am I signing this or not?”

You should’ve been able to answer right away. Yes. Yes. Even a Please, I’m begging you, because what was one more embarrassment on top of the pile you’d already collected?

But instead, you said, “I don’t know.”

You stood there, not quite believing the words that had just come out of your mouth. She let you sit with it for a few breaths before breaking the stillness.

“Well,” she said as she slid the form to the edge of the desk. “Come back when you do. And until you’ve dropped the course, you should remember the midterm is due on Thursday. And that I don’t allow make-up work.”

“I know.”

She leaned back in her chair, the seat groaning softly with the shift of weight. “You missed a quiz today.”

You shook your head, trying to fight a grin while running your tongue over the backs of your bottom teeth. “Figures.”

You stepped forward only as much as you had to pick the form up off the desk, then turned to leave, only stopping again in the doorway when she spoke again.

“Thursday,” she said as if it were its own kind of farewell.

You didn’t say anything more. Just gave her one last look and then stepped into the hallway.

You walked out of the building into the chilly New Jersey autumn air and stopped right outside the doors, clutching the fabric of your coat snugly around your neck as you looked out at the campus grounds. The air that escaped your lips as you sighed fogged around you for just a moment before disappearing.

Somehow you’d walked out of that office with an incomplete form, a half-promise to show up to class again, and no solution to your problem. You weren’t right back to where you started; you were someplace even worse. taglist: @6stolenangel9 @filmedbyharkness @ahintofchaos @sweetmidnights

[somepsychopomp]

Tips for Writing a Good Fic Summary:

I firmly believe that no writer should ever have to say "I suck at summaries", "my summary is bad but my story is good", "idk what to put in my summary" etc.

Why?

It makes you seem unconfident or disinterested in your own writing, which therefore puts off a lot of potential readers

It can come off like you didn't try

When tons of people say "I suck at summaries", it lowkey lumps you in with all the other writers who also don't know how to write summaries, and can make the premise of your fic seem less interesting or unique as a result

And quite frankly, I think every person who's ever slapped this kind of disclaimer on their fic absolutely can write a good summary if only they had some guidance and practice!

So, here are my go-to strategies for how to write a summary that functionally conveys the premise of your fic while also making it sound fun and interesting:

(Disclaimer, a lot of fellow fic writers out there have already internalized at least a good portion of what I've written below. This guide is designed for fanfic newcomers who may or may not still be learning how to write, largely because I most often see them posting the dreaded "I suck at summaries" as a shield, excuse, or preemptive defense of their works. I also want to say- no shame. We all have to start somewhere, and I just want to help out as much as I can.)

1) The In-Universe & Out Strategy:

I'm explaining this one first because if you've ever spared even a passing glance at Ao3, you've definitely come across this summary archetype before. And I'm super guilty of using it, too. But hey, if it works, it works!

This strategy is actually two summaries in one, the first being a blurb explaining the plot in a way similar to those you'd find printed in published books, with the goal of highlighting the drama or central conflict in the story and/or main character(s).

But it's also combined with an "out of character", typically much shorter summary that explains the premise by referencing its tropes or general format. The example below is one of my own fic summaries:

Let's start with the easier "out of character" component of this two-parter, that being the very last line of the example summary. This portion is technically optional in any summary, but has its many uses. The most important of which is that it offers clarity and guidance for your readers, and informs them of what exactly they're getting into if they were to click on your fic.

Also, it always comes second because the technical, "out of character" component is not you as a fandom participant trying to sell your story in an engaging way, it's you as the author explaining what it is you've made using familiar terms like "pre-canon"/"AU", etc.

And to be clear, I personally believe it's always better that your potential readers' first taste of your story (that being your summary) is immersive and enticing rather than plain and technical. So this smaller blurb should always go after your actual summary. Think of it as the cherry on top.

And you can make this portion of your summary very easily. Just state if your fic is an AU, if it's a "5 times X happened and the 1 time Y happened" fic, etc. All you have to do is tell your audience plainly what the main draw of the fic is, and all that takes is 1 sentence.

Aside from that, why does this format work and why is it so common in fandom spaces?

Well I referenced it before, but it offers something that most summaries in published books do not: clarity.

Yes, a good fic summary should tell you who the central character(s) are and a general idea of what happens in it. But summaries are also often used to build intrigue. You want your audience's curiosity to be piqued, so if you make your summary (and by extension your story) sound cool and mysterious, or full of adventure, or intensely cerebral and thought-provoking, readers will be inclined to click on your fic to find out how it ends.

But also, mystique offers uncertainty. And some readers might not like a fic if they can't quite parse out what exactly it'll be about. So, having an additional line or two after your "real" summary to explain the premise the way you might quickly explain it to a friend, gives that balance of intrigue and clarity.

But how do you write that first part? The actual summary?

2) The Cheater's Strategy:

It sounds a little dramatic, but honestly I consider this my "cheat sheet" way of making a summary because it's very much a shortcut that works.

And that strategy is: you sum up the first chapter of your fic. Nothing more. You do not allude to what the overarching plot is, you act as if chapter 1 is all you've got. But why would you do that?

Here's the thing about fanfics, based heavily on my experience in both writing and reading them. When you've got a fic that's more than 5-8 chapters long, or it stretches beyond 10-15k, oftentimes the first few chapters are all set up for your premise and the real meat of the story (the solving of the mystery, the big battles, the winding adventure, the burning portion of the slowburn) will come after.

When it comes to the cheater's strategy, you're going to ignore all the best portions of your story just so you can explain the boring set-up period where you position all your characters in the right places so they're ready to go on their (mis)adventure.

If you think that sounds like a bad idea, let me ask you this: When you pick up a mystery novel at the bookshop, does the summary give away who did it?

No! And you're not going to, either.

Also, it's implied and expected that the longer your story is, the more it will develop, change, and grow. So if you can sell your initial concept idea enough for a reader to click and read the first chapter, you very well could hook them and keep them seated for the rest of your story.

And remember what I said about building intrigue? This strategy is designed to build intrigue by suggesting there's more than what meets the eye.

Here's another example:

That might sound dense. And it's long. And it sounds like maybe a lot of stuff goes on in chapter one, but literally all I've done is explain the initial premise of my fic. (Note- this summary is for an Epic the Musical fic, which is a musical based of the Odyssey. Would highly recommend but that's beside the point)

The point is, this is an AU. But I didn't employ the Out of Universe strategy this time around and say it's an AU because it's obvious to anyone in the Epic fandom and it does not need to be further clarified.

What mattered to me in this scenario is that my potential reader sees my summary and knows that Odysseus the main character is a man who is married to the goddess Calypso, and is currently living in paradise. But in canon (both in Epic and in the actual Odyssey), Odysseus rebuked Calypso's advances because he wished to remain faithful to his actual wife Penelope.

The suggestion or implied understanding here is that something bad happened that caused Odysseus to discard Penelope in favor of Calypso. (Spoiler alert: the bad thing was him being brainwashed by a woman who would eventually become his abuser.)

And in this case, it's the suggestion of something gone wrong that builds the intrigue and curiosity for me without me having to add anything extra.

In the bulk of King of Ogygia, Odysseus goes on a strenuous mental journey to rediscover his true self with the help of various Greek gods, while also physically fighting back against his abuser. That all sounds pretty important to the story, right?

And it is! But I didn't want to include any of that and risk spoiling the overarching story. Anyone who'll be interested in chapter 1 will probably willingly continue reading to see how the story develops because that's just what you do when you find a story you like.

But let's say you're not writing an AU or a complicated, multi-chapter story spanning tens or hundreds of thousands of words.

If your fic is short and sweet, your summary should be as well. Next up,

3) Keep it Simple Strategies

(Yes, plural. This section is more like two different ideas lumped into one sum, but it made the most sense to put them together so please bear with me.)

Maybe you've got a neat little one-shot or a short fic (like 10k words or less) and you're not sure how to write it's summary precisely because it's so short. Or maybe you just prefer simple, direct summaries as opposed to the lengthy, dramatic kind.

Here's my next example from a 3k one shot I once wrote:

To be clear, this is a NOT an ideal summary. Far from it. But it's from a fic I wrote 6 years ago and I've definitely grown and changed as a writer since then. Let's dissect and rewrite this summary together.

Firstly, it does the bare minimum of telling you who the main character is (Kirishima), who he's being shipped with (Izuku), and the setting (a gym). And from a technical standpoint, that's almost all you have to write in order to reach the textbook definition of a summary.

But I didn't even really explain what the conflict or actual plot is, only suggested that that plot would be Kirishima trying to get together with another character who, in this setting, is a personal trainer.

It's succinct, I can at least give it that. But it's so short and plain that it doesn't really spark much imagination, does it? In all honesty, if I saw this exact summary posted at the top of Ao3, I'd skip right past it because it's so unimaginative and bland 😭

But the fic itself is only 3k, how do you build intrigue for a story that most readers can digest in about 30 minutes or less?

Let's start by identifying the main character and make a short list of their most important emotions or characteristics. Here, I would characterize Kirishima as being hopeful (that he can score a date), in love, and active (in a physical sense).

So I should try to channel these primary components into my summary. I could say something to the effect of:

Kirishima has been hitting the gym a lot more often, but it's not to improve his strength. There's a new personal trainer and he's got Kirishima's heart rate spiking better than cardio day. But can he work up the nerve to actually ask Izuku out?

Obviously, he'll ask out the cute trainer and they'll go on a date, but that's not what's important to a ship fic. It's the journey to the inevitable getting together that we want.

What makes this summary a little more engaging is that it's a lot more playful than the original. The gym pun and usage of "strength", "heart rate", and "cardio" really emphasizes the setting and premise. It helps sell the idea that this fic is a lighthearted romp while also hitting all the basics of who we're supposed to care about and where they are.

Here's a marginally better example summary:

Same fandom, different ship, similar premise. One character has a crush on the other, their crush is unaware of their affection at first, and the name of the game is winning them over.

But what makes this summary better than the previous example?

Well, it explains itself quite well by hitting all the minimum details. With four short sentences, it introduces who the two most important characters are and what their deal is. One of them is a god, the other is a mortal. It's a fantasy setting. The romance is one-sided.

But those minimum details coalesce into something greater than the sum of its parts. You also get the sense that Katsuki is dangerous and hot headed because he's the god of war, and you know that the object of his affections is more bookish and not quite interested in the brutish type.

How will they ever get along?

You thereby implicitly understand that the conflict of the story is figuring out how the ship will inevitably become a ship despite their initial differences. We could call this the Opposites Attract strategy, where the summary focuses on the juxtaposition between the two characters in the central ship, and makes that the central defining feature of the story. Got all that?

Good!

But making lists or divvying up character traits might seem confusing or tedious for some. (IMO if you're a new fanfic writer just starting out, it's worth a try to treat these simple strategies as writing exercises for your stories/summaries, even if you end up not using/posting them.)

If you as a writer want a more direct approach, try:

4) The Excerpt Strategy

All that stuff I said earlier about generating intrigue and hiding the meat of your story?

Well, you're still sort of doing that with this strategy, but not really. Instead, you're going to let the fic do the talking for you.

And by that, I mean your summary isn't really a summary at all, and is instead a brief excerpt from the fic itself. Here's some examples from various fandoms I've written for, including some where I've let the fic speak entirely for itself and others that I've combined with Strategy 1:

But how do you choose the right excerpt to represent your entire story?

In my opinion, a good excerpt needs to fulfill a few key requirements:

It has to convey who the main character is or what the plot is, so it will probably be from early in your fic.

Likewise, it can't give away the ending/big reveal because it looks careless. (And does not build intrigue!)

It can't be too long or else it'll seem bloated and readers might skip over it.

It also can't be so short that it ends up being confusing.

And most of all, it can't be so out of context that it ends up being baffling. Like if my fic's summary was just the line "And then all the kangaroos got wet" sure that could convey that my fic might be wacky and/or crack, but it's also distracting, uninformative, and doesn't really convey anything about your characters or plot.

Yes, oftentimes all of the above can be a hard checklist to fulfill, I know from experience. Hence why a lot of writers, myself included, combine it with a brief out-of-character explanation of the fic to cover all our bases.

The third and shortest example is arguably too brief for a proper summary, but it does one thing I really like by establishing the tone. It's sensual and a little sarcastic, offering a hint of danger, and is cushioned from failing by not fulfilling requirement #4 b/c of its supplementary summary.

So, why choose this strategy over any other?

Well, it advertises your writing style and unique voice more than a typical summary would. Sure, a regular summary kind of reflects who you are as a writer already, but I've definitely noticed in my own experience that the way I write a summary might be more formal, less formal, more dramatic, less dramatic, or just plain different from the voice/tone/perspective used in my actual fic.

And remember- that's because a summary is designed to GRAB attention. A fic is designed to MAINTAIN attention. They aren't quite the same and each has its own needs & goals.

And last but not at all least:

5) No man is an island

You really want to learn how to write good summaries?

Read more fics. Read more books. Read their summaries.

Go to your local bookstore or library, or visit your own book shelf, and study how others have written their summaries. What's important to each story in order to make a publishable summary? Is it the character's powers, the world they live in, the time period, the setting, their relationships, their enemies, their conflicts? Or something else? Or is it a combination of the factors above? And how do you make each factor as enticing as possible?

Does a sci fi novel have the same summary structure as a Jane Austin novel? Probably not! So if you have a sci fi fic in mind, it might do you some good to see how sci fi authors characterize their works. (Or maybe think outside the box and do take inspiration from an Austin blurb? Anything is possible in the world of fiction.)

Alternatively, go to Ao3 (or your preferred platform) and read how others in your community portray their fics. Comb through the fics you've bookmarked and study their summaries. Did they entice you? If so, try to figure out how and why. If not, what compelled you to click on the fic regardless?

And don't be afraid to draft out your summaries and revise them the same way you'd do so with your actual fics. Granted, I know there's lots of people out there that post fanfics without editing them, and that's fine. This should all be for fun, after all.

But if you want to put your best foot forward and give your story a strong advertisement, experimenting with the wording and structure of your summaries might do you some good!

Ultimately, when I say no man is an island, I mean it in the sense that artists study other artists all the time, and have been doing so for thousands of years. Crafting an effective and compelling summary is arguably an art itself. So, learn from those around you. Take advantage of your predecessors and the fellow writers in your community.

And that's that!

But we're not quite done here. My parting gift to you all is one last strategy, one that can be readily combined with nearly all others. It's called the Try & Try Again Strategy:

Start with a shitty first draft of your summary. It can be as bad and uninformative and bland as you want because it's just for you and no one else will ever see it. In fact, it should intentionally be as simple and plain as possible. Something like "Percy Jackson goes to the store"

Then tack on an extra detail, something to make it a little more exciting or elaborate. Maybe you've identified that your summary needs to convey what the initial premise or inciting incident is, as opposed to something like a romantic pairing or the setting. So you write a newly revised summary: "Percy Jackson goes to a store and a bomb goes off inside."

But you want to add a few more details to make it just a little more exciting and informative: "Percy Jackson thought he was about to have an ordinary day when he's framed for a pipe bomb explosion inside a deli market." (Now we have the central conflict- Percy is being framed for a crime! But how can we make it even better? How do we build even more intrigue?)

Keep trying: "Percy Jackson's day went from mediocre to horrible as he's framed for an explosion inside a New York bodega. Follow his misadventure as he runs from the local cops, finds the perpetrator, and most important of all- gets his groceries home by dinner time."

But wait, you might say. That's not a strategy. That's just doing the same thing over and over again to varying degrees of success.

To that I say yes, it most certainly is. And that's basically all writing is. It's trying to bring your idea to life, identifying what's not working along the way, and fixing it.

But starting with a seed is how you get a flower.

And if you've made it this far, I just wanted to say thanks for stopping by! Have fun writing! ♥️

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Hi i have a jude bellingham request. Shy introverted reader that is scared of social interactions, who starts pulling back from jude after a bad event and he comforts her. Some angst mixed with fluff pls(u can add some smut if u want to idrc) thankss🫶🏾

Insecure

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You're insecure and he reassures you.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x You

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.8k

Warnings! Angst (but only a little bit for the plot), FLUFF!! Jude being the best boyfriend, NSFW! SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving), sweet love making, protected sex (for once),

The notifications on your phone felt relentless.

Each buzz, each ping, eating away at your self-esteem.

It had all started a couple of weeks ago when Jude invited you to a gala. You hadn't thought much of it—an evening spent in a sleek gown by his side, pretending to enjoy the swirling champagne and over-polished conversations.

Jude had introduced you to a few people, his arm around your waist the entire night. For a moment, you'd felt like you belonged.

Until now.

You had only taken a few seconds to scroll through the comments, the ones you could bear to look at before your fingers began to tremble and your throat tightened. The first one caught your eye, cruel and biting, its words harsh and unforgiving.

"How did he end up with her? She’s so basic. 🙄"

The words stung, a visceral ache, but you read on.

"Girl’s shaped like a fridge and dating a star. Make it make sense. 🥴"

You should’ve closed the app, should’ve thrown the phone across the room, should’ve stopped. But you couldn’t. You needed to know, needed to see, needed to feel the weight of it all like a punch to the gut that you couldn’t escape.

The comments piled up, each more venomous than the last, each one cutting deeper than you thought possible.

"Bet she’s just in it for the fame. 🚩"

"Wow, he downgraded HARD. Can’t believe this. 😂"

You felt the familiar sting in your chest, the way your breath caught in your throat as you read them. Each word a dagger, each sentence an echo of your worst insecurities.

"Imagine thinking you’re hot enough to date him with that body. 🤡"

"If I had her face, I’d be embarrassed to leave the house, let alone post. 😬"

You couldn’t breathe now. The phone felt like a weight, pulling you down as you sank further into the dark hole of self-doubt that had always been there, lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to pull you under.

"Pathetic."

You felt the tears before they came, hot and salty on your cheeks. You hated this. Hated what people were saying. Hated how it made you feel. Hated that you'd thought it was a good idea to scroll in the first place.

And hated even more that Jude would see.

The tears fell faster now, and you couldn't do anything to stop it.

You tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming, never-ending like the messages on your phone. Each drop a reminder of how small you felt, how unworthy you were. Your chest tightened with the kind of suffocating shame you hadn’t known since high school.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, ready to block the app, to retreat, to hide. But the instinct was stronger. You wanted to see more. You wanted to know if the cruelty would ever end, or if you were doomed to be the punchline of a joke you hadn’t asked to be part of.

But what if they were right? What if he did downgrade? What if you were just a blip in his life, a temporary distraction until someone else, someone better, came along?

The thought gnawed at you, whispering its doubts until you weren’t sure which way was up anymore.

You did the only thing you knew to do.

You deleted the app, and anything related to it from your phone. It wasn’t the bravest move, but it was better than reading the same comments over and over again. Because at the end of the day that's what you were.

A coward.

The next few days went by in a blur.

You barely remembered them.

The world outside felt muffled, distant, as if everything was happening on the other side of a thick glass wall. You went through the motions—work, meals, sleep—but there was a hollowness to it, an absence where joy should’ve been. The phone sat untouched, the social media apps gone, erased from your life like they never existed.

And you were ignoring Jude.

The calls, the texts, the messages. All ignored. You didn't know how to face him and the possiblity of those comments being true.

He had never once made you feel bad about yourself, but the fear remained, eating at you like a living, breathing thing.

If you could just stay away, stay quiet, he'd never know. And you'd be able to save face.

The phone buzzed again, shrill against the quiet of your apartment. You ignored it. It buzzed again. And again.

When it stopped, you let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived. It started ringing. Loud. Insistent.

You knew who it was before you even saw his name across the screen.

You hesitated, the phone in your hand feeling like a live wire. You could almost hear his voice through the screen, warm and persistent, the kind that always made you feel safe. But now? Now, all you could hear were the words from those comments, echoing in your mind. You’re not good enough for him. You’re just a placeholder, a filler for when someone better comes along.

The ringing continued, each ring a painful reminder that you were avoiding the one person who could make this all better. But he’ll know, you thought, he’ll see how weak I am, how fragile this all really is.

With a deep, shaky breath, you answered.

“Hello?”

There was a pause. A soft, hesitant exhale from his side. “Hey. I… I’ve been trying to reach you. What’s going on? You’ve been distant, and I’m—” His voice wavered, the worry clear even through the brief exchange. “You okay?”

You swallowed, but the lump in your throat refused to go down. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice cracking at the seams. “Just… been busy. Lots of stuff to catch up on.”

Another silence. This time, it wasn’t filled with the usual comfortable hum of him shifting in his seat. It felt different. Weighted.

“Baby, you know I love you right?” Jude asked quietly, as though he could hear the lie even through the distance. “You know you can talk to me—right?” His voice softened even more.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your hands shaking now, fingers pressing tightly to the screen. He knows. He had to.

“I just… I’m not feeling great. That’s all. I’ll be fine. Really.” You couldn’t look at the screen. You couldn’t face him.

"Sweetheart, isten to me," Jude said, his tone firm but gentle. "You're not going to lie to me, and you're certainly not going to avoid me." He paused. "If something's wrong, then you're going to tell me and we're going to get through it together." He was quiet for a second before he spoke again. "Now. Let's try this again. Are you okay?"

The tears were back now, hot and biting as they fell. “I can’t do this, Jude,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady even as the sobs started.

“Can’t do what?” Jude’s voice rose. His worry was palpable now. “What happened? Tell me.”

But you couldn’t tell him, couldn’t risk it. You weren’t sure you could even say the words out loud. What would he think of you then?

“Maybe this was a mistake, Jude. Maybe we should just stop.”

Another pause. “Stop what?”

“Us.” You had to swallow before you could continue. “I think it’s best if we stop.”

The words hung in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. The weight of them, the finality, nearly crushed you. You stared at the screen, willing yourself to breathe, to not let the panic rise higher than it already had. Maybe this is better, you thought, but the thought felt hollow, empty, like you were lying to yourself.

Jude’s silence on the other end of the line felt like an eternity. It stretched out, each passing second pulling you deeper into your own spiraling thoughts, drowning in the fear that this was the end, that you'd finally done it. You’d ruined everything.

Finally, his voice cut through the tension, soft, almost broken. “Are you… are you serious right now?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah,” you whispered, “I’m serious.”

The phone trembled in your hand, as if it, too, was unsure of what to do next. It was as if the world had tilted, your stomach twisting in knots. You had never wanted this. Not really. But the fear, the shame, the constant feeling of inadequacy—it was too much. And maybe, just maybe, walking away from him would spare you from the pain of having him see who you really were, of letting him down.

“Baby,” Jude breathed, his voice thick with disbelief, “what happened? What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You wanted to explain, wanted to tell him everything—the comments, the hurt, the way they ate away at you, leaving you raw. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t find the words. Not when you felt so small, so insignificant, like the version of you he deserved was locked behind a wall you couldn’t break down.

“You deserve better than me,” you finally choked out, your voice barely audible. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but it felt like the only truth left. “I’m not good enough for you.” The tears fell faster now. You couldn’t stop them. You didn’t want to. The ache in your chest swelled, filling you until there was nothing left but the echoes of those cruel, cruel words. “They were right. I’m not good enough.”

For the first time in a long while, Jude’s response wasn’t immediate. But when it finally came, it felt like a gentle breeze against your flushed skin, soft and warm. “Is this about the articles? The ones from the gala?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to.

“I see,” Jude said quietly, the words coming slow as he processed. “Well, let me tell you something.”

He paused as though collecting his thoughts, as if he needed to be sure of what he wanted to say. “First of all, there’s no one better than you. Not one.” His voice deepened with conviction. “Every person at that gala would’ve killed to be in my place that night. Every one of them wanted to be you, sweetheart.”

You wanted to laugh. To scoff. How could he say that? How could he even believe it? But a small voice in your head reminded you that Jude wasn't one to lie, that he had always been honest with you. It whispered that maybe, just maybe, he could be telling the truth. But you didn’t dare believe it. Not yet.

“And second,” Jude continued, “You have to be stupid to think for one moment that you're anything less than amazing.”

The words washed over you like a wave, gentle at first but growing, pulling you under before you could catch your breath. You felt the weight of them settle in your chest, and for a split second, the storm inside your head stilled.

But only for a moment.

“You think you're just some filler in my life?” Jude’s voice was quieter now, but there was a rawness to it, a crack that betrayed the calm exterior. “But I’m here to tell you—you’re not. You’re everything I want. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The finality in his voice, the quiet intensity, almost broke you. Everything I want.

How could he say that? How could he be so sure ?

You couldn't help it. The fear, the doubt, it all spilled out, the words a jumbled mess of tears and desperation. “But what if you realize I'm not the one? That you can do better ?” Your voice trembled as you spoke, but you couldn’t help it.

Jude was silent for a long time. You could almost feel the frustration that radiated from the other end of the call. You could feel him wanting to reach through and grab you. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice rough but gentle, “you are mine. That’s not going to change.”

“How can you be so sure?” The words came out of their own volition, as if your brain and your mouth were on different wavelengths. You wanted to take them back the moment you heard them, but it was too late.

“Because,” Jude murmured, his voice softening again, almost too gentle. “Because I love you, and that’s never going to change. I don’t care what they say about you. You’re my person. And I don’t want to lose you to the lies in your head.”

And there it was, the thing you’d been trying to run from—the thing you were terrified to hear. Love. The word felt so foreign, so big, and yet, in that moment, it felt like the only thing that could make everything right.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered, a single tear slipping down your cheek. It wasn’t from sadness anymore.

It was from something more vulnerable, something raw and tender that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in so long. The possibility of being loved, of being seen—not for how you measured up to anyone else, but for who you were.

“Then don’t push me away,” Jude said, a quiet plea in his voice. “Let me in, okay? Let me help you. Let me love you.”

You inhaled shakily, the walls in your chest crumbling just a little.

You wanted to say yes. You wanted to let him in, to trust him the way he trusted you.

But the fear that clung to you like a second skin, made it hard to even breathe, let alone surrender.

You thought you were protecting yourself by keeping him at arm's length, by pushing him away, but now, his words—his steady, unwavering belief in you—began to crack the walls you’d built around your heart.

“I don’t know how to stop being scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The admission felt like an exhale you hadn’t realized you’d been holding for years.

Jude’s response was immediate, his voice tender and full of understanding. “You don’t have to stop being scared, love. You just have to let me be there with you through it.” His words were quiet but firm, something unbreakable. Loving. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

A small sob broke through you then, uncontrollable and raw.

The tightness in your chest, the constant ache, the never-ending flood of doubt—it all spilled out in that single moment, like the dam finally giving way to everything you had been holding back. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed to hear those words until now. How much you needed him to hold you through this mess inside your head.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice shaking. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away. For being so… so scared.”

Jude’s tone softened, his voice a balm to your raw nerves. “No need to apologize, babe. You don’t owe me an apology for feeling the way you do. Just… don’t shut me out again. Okay?”

You nodded, though you knew he couldn’t see you. The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against the tightness in your chest, but for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to feel a flicker of hope.

The terror that had ruled your every step began to loosen its grip, if only a little, as Jude’s quiet insistence filled the spaces where your insecurities once roamed.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling but steady. "Okay."

"Good. Now, can I come over? I want to see you. I miss you, baby." His voice was soft, like he was whispering a secret that only the two of you could know. His words made you feel safe, seen, loved.

"Yes." It felt like a sentencing. But one you would subject yourself to everday if it meant you would have him by your side.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” Jude asked, a hopeful edge to his voice.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a slow, tentative smile tug at the corners of your lips. “Soon.”

*********

You were in your room when you heard the knock on the door. You stood, your heart quickening. It felt as though hours had passed since the call, but in reality, it had only been 20 minutes.

You opened the door slowly, and Jude was already there, his eyes locked on you as you stepped out into the hallway.

He moved first, his footsteps sure as he crossed the distance between you. He didn’t hesitate before he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest.

The hug was tight, almost fierce. “I missed you,” he whispered against your hair. His words were a little shaky, as if he’d been holding it in for so long.

You felt yourself melt against him, allowing yourself to be held for the first time since this had all started.

His arms were warm, safe, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured into his neck.

You stood there for what felt like forever, the two of you holding onto each other like your lives depended on it. You felt him press a kiss against the top of your head. The touch was gentle, loving, and your eyes fell shut as you absorbed it, the warmth seeping into your chest.

Jude held you like he would never let you go. You didn’t want him to. You needed the safety he brought, the shelter of his arms.

Jude had never been your crutch before, but in this moment, you felt so helpless, so broken, that you weren’t sure you could stand without him.

He didn’t let go of you. Not once.

His hands stroked up and down your back, his lips pressing kisses along your hairline, his arms holding you close like he didn’t want you to go. The only sound was his breathing and your own heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know what the future held, but in this moment you were content to just hold onto him and have him hold onto you.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, standing in the doorway of your room, but it felt like time had slowed down, just for the two of you.

You weren’t sure when you stopped holding back, when you finally allowed the tears to spill over. Maybe it was the feeling of his hands gently cradling your face, or maybe it was the quiet understanding in his eyes when you pulled away just enough to look at him.

Jude cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. His gaze was unwavering, full of love and something else—a quiet sadness, a longing to reach you, to help you see what he saw.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice low, almost a plea. “You’re beautiful and lovely and perfect just the way you are. You’re mine and I love you. You’re my beautiful girl, and you always will be.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead, the softness of his lips dragging across your skin. It was warm, gentle, comforting.

Jude lifted his head, his eyes locking on yours again. His fingers were still curled around your face, and he moved slowly, his lips tracing over your skin, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

You couldn’t look away from him. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you, his expression full of emotion and need. Your heart tripped, stumbling as your own need swamped you.

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one light, almost reverent. You shivered as his hands stroked over the back of your neck, his fingertips tracing along your shoulders and down your arms. He moved slowly, each touch a promise of love, of passion, of want.

You felt your legs tremble at his touch, and Jude was there immediately, his arms coming around you and holding you up. He pulled you against him again, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“Let me show you,” he murmured against your skin. His hands moved over you, dragging up your back and back down, "Let me show you how beautiful you are." They dropped to your ass, his fingers curling around it as he pulled you into him, grinding slightly against you.

Your body reacted on instinct, arching into him. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your neck.

"Please, baby girl," he whispered, the words a prayer. "Please." He pressed kisses against your throat as you lifted your head to look at him. His eyes held yours, pupils blown with desire and need. "Please, let me show you what I see every time I see you."

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your ears as you stared back at him. You saw the truth in his eyes, and for the first time, you let yourself truly believe it. You were perfect to him, just the way you were.

You nodded, and a soft smile spread over his face before he dropped his head to kiss you again. This time, there was more passion in his kiss, more emotion. He kissed you like you were the only thing he wanted or needed. He kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, until you were trembling against him, your arms wrapped around him and your fingers tangled in his coily hair.

He pulled away, a breath of air between your lips. He was breathing hard, his eyes wide with the same need that burned in yours.

"Bedroom," he whispered, and you nodded.

He followed you to your room, closing the door behind him and pulling you into his arms again. The kiss you shared was longer, hotter, more intense as you reached between you and started to undo his belt.

"Wait, baby…Hold on."

You pulled back, your brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

He smiled, his expression soft, loving, and he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "This is about you, baby, not me. I want to see you." He leaned in to kiss you again, soft and gentle, and you felt yourself melt under his hands.

He kissed you for little longer before pulling away again. He gently tugged on your hands, guiding you to the bed and pushing you down to sit on the edge.

He moved to his knees between your legs, spreading them as he went. The light from the window shone down on you, and he stared up at you for long moments, his eyes roaming over your face and neck. He touched you as if he was memorizing you—your skin, your eyes, your lips.

He leaned in and kissed the skin just beneath your collarbone, and your breath caught. You felt a shiver work over your skin as he kissed down to the top of your breasts.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered against your cleavage, "Perfect, gorgeous…beautiful, beautiful girl." He trailed kisses across your chest, moving back up to kiss your lips again. "I love you so much, baby," he said between kisses, and then his mouth moved back down.

"Can I?" His fingers drifted over the top of your shirt and you nodded. He smiled softly, his lips moving over your skin. "Good girl," he breathed, and the sound of his voice was like a caress over your skin.

You watched, wide-eyed, as he undid the buttons of your shirt and slipped it off. The top of your bra was visible, and his hands drifted down to cup you through the fabric. He squeezed lightly, groaning when he felt your nipples harden through the fabric of your bra. You could feel his eyes on you, could see the heat in them.

"Look at you," he murmured, "So beautiful…" He moved to slide the straps down your arms, his mouth moving down your skin to kiss between your breasts, his tongue flicking out to taste you. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged him closer, sighing when he sucked one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue swirled over it through the fabric of your bra and your hips jerked.

His hand slid around to unhook your bra, and he looked up at you as he slipped it off. "Oh, baby…" He leaned down to kiss the side of your breast, his breath hot and full of promise. "God, you're perfect."

He kissed over your breasts, sucking your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue over them. You arched up under him, your head dropping back, and he moaned.

"Fuck, baby…" His hands slid down your sides to your jeans, and he popped the button. "These look good on you," he whispered, "but I want you naked." His hands moved to zip open your jeans, and you watched as he stripped you.

He stared down at you, a look of pure lust on his face. Your skin flushed at his perusal and you fought the urge to cover yourself.

He kissed over your stomach, his lips moving up to your chest and then to your mouth. "God, baby, you're beautiful," he breathed against your lips before kissing you again.

His hands found their way between your legs and he groaned when he felt how wet you were. His fingers rubbed over your clit through your panties, and you sighed. He leaned back to kiss your inner thigh, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses on your skin.

"All mine," he whispered as he dropped more kisses on your thigh. "Right, baby?" He kissed closer and closer to your pussy, his hands moving to the waistband of your panties. He hooked his fingers under the fabric and tugged them off.

"I'm all yours," you gasped as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "All yours."

His hand moved between your legs, his finger circling your clit. "yeah, that's right" he breathed. A cry fell from your lips and you dropped your head back, arching up into him. His arms came around your thighs, holding you open as his mouth dropped down to kiss you.

You shuddered at the first touch of his mouth. His tongue was hot, wet, and perfect as it licked over your clit, flicking over the little bundle of nerves. You sighed, dropping your hands into his hair, and he groaned against you. His tongue pressed harder against you, circling faster and you could feel the pressure building inside you already.

"Jude," you gasped, "Oh, god…"

He growled against you, the vibrations of his voice making your legs quiver. He pulled back and you felt his breath on your wet pussy before his tongue was back on your clit.

"Please," you whispered, "Please, Jude…"

He licked faster, his tongue pressing harder against you. You could feel the building pressure rising higher and you gasped.

"Fuck," he muttered, his lips moving back to press kisses against your inner thighs. "Fuck, you taste so fucking good." His mouth dropped back down to your pussy and his tongue stabbed into you, and you felt the first wave of your orgasm roll through you.

You cried out, arching against his mouth as he licked through your orgasm. He didn't stop, his tongue moving over and around your clit, teasing you towards another.

You screamed as the second wave hit you, harder than the first. Your legs jerked, trembling under him. He held you open, his mouth moving over you. He licked and sucked, teasing you through your orgasm.

When you could finally breathe again, your legs trembling under you, he pulled back. He kissed your inner thighs again, smiling as you gasped and shivered under him.

He moved back to his knees, his hands still holding you open. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he said as he looked down at you. His hand moved down between your legs again, his fingers slipping inside you. He pumped slowly, his thumb moving over your clit, and you fell back with a gasp.

"Baby…" You tugged his hair gently, watching as he stared down at your pussy. His mouth dropped open and he groaned. "Such a tight little pussy," he panted, "All for me…" He leaned forward, his tongue dragging over your clit. His hand worked faster, pumping two fingers into you and he sucked your clit between his lips.

You screamed, your entire body shaking as you fell over the edge again. His name fell from your lips as his tongue licked and his fingers thrust into you, teasing the orgasm out of you.

You collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh, feeling boneless and sated. You smiled lazily at him, watching as he pulled his fingers from your pussy and brought them to his mouth.

"Fuck, you taste good," he murmured, sucking his fingers clean. "God, I need you, baby." He tugged his t-shirt off, dropping it on the floor beside your jeans. His eyes stayed on you as he unzipped his pants.

He pulled his boxers and jeans off in one go, kicking them off to join the rest of your clothes. You couldn't help but stare at him. His body was beautiful, all lean muscle and sharp edges. His cock jutted up from between his legs, hard and leaking for you. Your eyes were glued to it and you licked your lips.

Jude groaned and moved over you, his cock brushing against your thigh as he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around him, tugging him closer to you. He dropped his weight onto you, his hips grinding against you. You sighed into the kiss, your tongue tangling with his.

"You got condoms in here?" he mumbled against your lips, "Because I really, really want to fuck you right now."

You gasped, your mouth dropping open in pleasure. "Uh… Yeah?" You shook your head, clearing the lust-induced haze from your mind. "In my dresser…" You nodded towards the dresser and he got up, moving to it.

He came back to you, condom in hand and a smile on his face. "God," he groaned, "You're so sexy…" He tossed the condom on the bed beside you and leaned over you. "Spread your legs for me."

You nod shyly, spreading your legs wide. He dropped down between them, his mouth kissing your inner thighs. You shivered, sighing as he moved closer. His mouth dropped to your pussy, his tongue licking over you and his finger playing with your clit. He looked up at you, grinning as he watched your face.

"God, you're so sensitive," he muttered as you shivered and sighed under him. His tongue dragged over your pussy and he pressed a finger into you, groaning. "Fuck, I need to be inside you now."

He stood, towering over you with an intensity that made your breath hitch, his fingers working to tear the condom wrapper open. The sound was sharp, a deliberate break in the tension that hung thick in the air.

Your eyes drifted down, drawn to the sight of his cock—hard, proud, and already slick from his arousal. Your lips parted instinctively, tongue darting out to wet them as you watched him roll the condom down.

Every movement of his hand, every deliberate stroke as he adjusted it, felt like a tease meant solely for your eyes.

He let out a low growl, almost inaudible, as he gave himself one last firm stroke. His gaze locked with yours, dark and full of need, before he shifted forward, positioning himself between your legs.

His hands found your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he spread you wider beneath him. You gasped softly at the sensation, a shiver of anticipation rushing through you when you felt the blunt heat of him pressing against your entrance.

“Jude…” you murmured, his name a breathless plea that you couldn’t hold back.

His head dipped lower, his lips brushing your ear as he let out a strained groan. “You ready for me, baby?” he asked, his voice rough, thick with the effort it took to hold himself back.

You nodded, your chest heaving as your heart pounded like a drumbeat. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. “I’m ready.”

His lips curled into a mischievous grin, though his eyes burned with intensity. “Good,” he rasped, his tone laced with both promise and intent. “Now I’m gonna show you just how much I love you—since words don’t seem to be enough for you.” His grin widened, cocky and devastatingly sexy, as his hands slid beneath your thighs. With a fluid, effortless motion, he lifted you, pulling your hips up to meet him.

You gasped again, louder this time, as he pressed forward. The first inch of him slid inside, the stretch slow and deliberate. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, pausing for a moment to savor the sensation. “Your tight little pussy is gonna squeeze the cum right outta me…”

Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as you adjusted to him, the delicious burn and fullness making you shiver. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper, urging him on. “Jude,” you sighed, his name rolling off your tongue like a prayer, filled with pleasure and longing.

He growled at your response, his hips rocking forward slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breaths coming out in ragged bursts. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned, his voice heavy with satisfaction. He began to move, his hips grinding in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Goddamn, your pussy feels so good…”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, the pleasure blooming between your legs as his cock filled you perfectly. Every thrust sent a shockwave of heat through your body, leaving you gasping and moaning beneath him.

It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—your soul, your body, every part of you was being worshipped and driven higher with each stroke.

His lips traced over your neck, his teeth raking over your skin and sending shivers down your spine. His hands clutched you tighter, holding you firm against him as his body began to move faster. His thrusts lost their slow, deliberate rhythm, his need and hunger taking hold.

“Fuck, baby…” His voice was almost a growl, the words slipping through his lips on gasps of air. “So fucking perfect…” You felt your walls clamp down around him and he groaned louder, his hips slamming into you harder and faster. “Oh god, baby,” he moaned, “Oh fuck, yes…” His hands slid under your ass, tugging you up into his thrusts and sending his cock deeper inside you. “God, fuck, you’re gonna make me come so hard…”

You nodded, unable to form words with the pleasure overwhelming you, but you knew. You felt it too, the heat and pressure building inside you like a storm.

His hips snapped forward faster, pounding into you with a brutal intensity that had your legs shaking and your body trembling. His moans and gasps matched yours, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he fucked you.

"Jude…" you gasped his name, your voice trembling and barely audible as the first wave of pleasure surged through your body. Your nails raked across his back, leaving faint trails as if you were desperately trying to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation. Your thighs quivered uncontrollably around his hips, your breaths coming in shallow, broken sobs. “Oh… oh God…”

“Fuck,” he growled, his voice rough and ragged, dripping with unrestrained desire. “Fuck yeah, baby…” His thrusts grew more forceful, more insistent, driving you higher and higher until your body felt like it might shatter from the intensity.

His hand slid between your bodies with practiced precision, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves that sent shockwaves of pleasure tearing through you.

When he flicked over your clit, you cried out, your voice raw and filled with pure ecstasy. The sensation raced through you like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every inch of your skin and leaving you utterly undone.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips pounded into you relentlessly. “I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock… Jesus, you’re so fucking tight… so perfect… oh fuck…”

His rhythm becoming harder, faster, and more erratic as he teetered on the edge. His muscles tightened beneath you, every sinew in his body straining as he chased his release. The throbbing of his cock deep inside you was almost enough to push you over the edge again, and you whimpered, your body still convulsing with the aftershocks of your own climax.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice hoarse and guttural as he surrendered too. His thrusts faltered, each movement now slower but no less intense as he came, filling you with a warmth that made your breath hitch. “Oh… fuck…”

Jude’s weight pressed against you as he collapsed, his body heavy yet comforting as his arms enveloped you. He held you close, his chest rising and falling against yours as his cock pulsed one final time within you.

Your head fell back against the soft pillows, your lips parting as you fought to catch your breath. The room now filled with the warm, intimate haze of the moment, charged with the aftermath of passion. Your heart raced as a satisfied smile ghosted across your lips, your mind a swirling storm of euphoria and peace. Every inch of you felt alive, buzzing with the warmth of his touch.

He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin as he pressed a trail of soft, lingering kisses. The tenderness of his lips sent shivers down your spine.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion, the words slipping out like a sacred vow against your ear. His fingers lightly traced circles on your hip, grounding you. “I love you so goddamn much.”

A lump formed in your throat, your heart swelling at his words. No matter how many times he told you, you would never get used to hearing those words. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned your head to meet his gaze. You reached up to press a soft kiss to his forehead, the gesture tender and intimate, a silent reassurance of your feelings. “Thank you for coming over…”

His lips curved into a smile, soft but full of affection. “Anytime, baby,” he promised without hesitation, his voice steady, sincere. “I’ll always be there for you.” The words weren’t just said—they were a declaration, a vow.

He rolled away reluctantly, leaving the warmth of your embrace to take care of the practicalities, disposing of the condom before returning with a warm, damp cloth. His movements were gentle, careful, as he cleaned you up, his touch never wavering in its tenderness. When he was done, he slid back into bed, pulling the covers over both of you as he gathered you into his arms, holding you close like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You nestled against him, pressing a lingering kiss to his chest before looking up at him with a small, content smile. “I feel better now,” you murmured, your voice soft and light, carrying an undertone of relief.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring. “Good,” he whispered, his tone gentle and full of love. “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too,” you replied, snuggling deeper into his embrace as you let your eyes drift shut. His arms wrapped securely around you, his warmth seeping into your skin and calming every frayed nerve. For the first time in a while, you felt truly at peace, safe in the knowledge that he cared for you in a way no one else ever had.

The way he held you, the way he whispered those words, left no room for doubt.

To him, you were perfect—flaws and all—and in his arms, you began to believe it too. You knew, with unshakable certainty, that he would always be there, the love you deserved.

As your breathing slowed and sleep began to claim you, you felt him tighten his hold ever so slightly, a soft hum of contentment escaping his lips. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head, and you heard the faintest whisper as his voice broke through the quiet stillness.

“I’m so lucky to have you…”

Your lips tipped up into a soft smile. You were so lucky to have him too.

-Bianca🌻

[gay-dorito-dust]

Felix Catton x reader where he invites reader to Saltburn and he confesses his love to her. Super fluffy 🫶🏻😩

This was long as shit! But I hope you like it! 🦦

You honestly thought Felix was taking the piss upon extending you an invitation to spend the summer at Saltburn. You even waited for Farleigh to come out of nowhere to make his usual passive aggressive commentary in regard to your seemingly gullible nature, but nothing.

No Farleigh.

None of Felix’s little posse of posh cunts were nearby to poorly conceal their laugher behind their hands.

It was just you and Felix sat upon a stone bench somewhere, to which you must’ve looking like an right idiot, with your mouth opening and closing like an goldfish in disbelief at what you were hearing. ‘So what do you say?’ Felix asked after a prolonged period of awkward silence, looking as though a little on the verge of imploding at any given moment.

You blinked once, twice, then a third time for good measure before clearing your throat. ‘Yeah, sure…I’d love to but why me-‘ your sentence was cut off when Felix let out a relieved sigh as his mouth stretched into a smile, revealing his pearly whites, also as though he was…happy that you had accepted his invite; A reaction that naturally caused you to become curious as to figure out the reason why.

‘Oh thank fuck, you almost had me second guessing that you weren’t going to come.’ He said, looking at you with eyes that seemed to be reading your entire being, reading your each and every breath with such attention; so much that you swore it was as akin to that of a creator admiring his first creation. You -much like everyone else at Oxford- were very familiar with the stories that came with the supposed friends Felix had taken to Saltburn; they go to Saltburn, things seemingly get weird and the friendship is tarnished, then by summer’s end Felix next speaks with them again.

Used and discarded within the same breath.

You soon came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to be the next discarded toy on Felix’s long list of broken things. It would’ve been better had Felix kept his distance and stayed with his little posse, but he didn’t and now you were riddled with the endless possibilities that laid ahead of you. ‘Would’ve been a real shame if I did.’ You said, hyper aware of the fact that Felix was still staring intently at you. ‘But I’m glad you didn’t.’ He says softly, taking one last puff of his cigarette before its dying embers dwindled down to the bud, tossing it aside carelessly once it’s use has been served.

‘So am I.’ You replied, looking away from him and elsewhere as you pondered to yourself what you had gotten yourself into and what terrors would await for you at Saltburn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your first couple of days at Saltburn were okay to say the least.

Well that was mostly because Felix insisted that you’d spend the most of it together. So no matter where it was that you went through the manor, Felix was never far behind, looking over you like a protective shadow.

The pool? a shirtless Felix was sat poolside with a cigarette handing loosely from his lips, reflective shades concealing his dark eyes that you could feel shamelessly drinking you in as you dipped a toe.

The living room? Felix was there with a selection of movies and snacks that he retrieved from the kitchen along with comfy blankets.

The library? Felix was there reading a book that went over the treatment of women in Greek myths.

Bathroom? Felix was also there because upon giving you a grand tour of the intimidating building, he had informed you that you were to share a bathroom, instead of having you journey to the other side of the house to occupy another one.

You even remembered one time where you were deeply engaged in a topic with the likes of Farleigh and Venetia about Felix’s recent attitude towards you, with you being in denial and Farleigh and Venetia trying to make you see reason; When Felix came into the room as though looking for something, and upon seeing the three of you together, his jaw began to clench. It wasn’t until that very moment did you begin to take note of how Felix’s reluctance in having to share you with anyone else, and how it was staring to look something similar to a stubborn child who refused to share what he thought rightfully belonged to him.

‘Told you.’ Farleigh said with a winning smirk after Felix left the room in a huff. ‘He doesn’t want to share you with the rest of us, he only wants you for himself…and in more ways than one.’ He adds on, obviously knowing something that you didn’t.

‘What do you mean by that Farleigh?’ You had tried to ask but all he did was shrug nonchalantly and cryptically said, ‘you’ll see soon enough.’

You guessed you understood where Felix was coming from, I mean you did come here because of him, so naturally you were meant to be spending most of your time with him. However with what Farleigh had said earlier, you couldn’t help but theorise that there was a much deeper reasoning for Felix to have invited you to Saltburn; A theory that would later be put to the test when you were getting ready to go to bed, pulling back the covers just enough for you to slip in with ease, when a knocking at your door caught your ear.

‘Y/n. You in there? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something recently and it couldn’t wait any longer.’ It was Felix. Your brows furrowed at this, what could he possibly want to talk about in the middle of the night?

As to not keep him waiting any longe then he might’ve been before knocking on your door. You quickly made your way to the door -though not before making sure you looked presentable- and opened it to see Felix stood in your doorway in his sleepwear, which consisted of a short sleeve shirt and a pair of blueish gray boxers, as his dark hair looked ruffled as though he had just been vigorously running his hands through it just minutes prior.

Either way he still looked extraordinarily appealing to the eye. However that was just how Felix looked to near enough everyone; extraordinarily delectable.

‘What conversation could possibly be so hard for you to not wait until tomorrow to have?’ You asked, brows raised, wanting nothing more than to put an end to all the mental gymnastics you’ve put yourself through within the past couple days; It got exhaustive after a while and his childish antics of giving you the cold shoulder didn’t make matters any better.

‘Look, I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you recently.’ Felix began.

‘A bit?’ You echoed, slightly annoyed. ‘Felix you wouldn’t even look at me when I went to the pool, which if I remember correctly,’ you placed a finger on your chin, faking a face of deep thought before clicking your fingers and leaning in towards him, ‘you invited me to earlier that same day.’ You concluded dryly. ‘So how about you explain that before whatever you wanted to talk about, just so I’m given more of a clear picture as to where we stand.’

‘Fuck. I fucked up.’ Felix sighed under his breath as he ran his hand down his face, his dark eyes peering down the elongated hallway in hopes that no one -Farleigh- would come out and see what was all the commotion about, before they returned to look into yours and decided to just skip the words he was planning on telling you and just get straight to the point; long winded speeches of love was never his thing when he could just be straightforward about it. After all he was Felix fucking Catton, but it seemed that just being in your presence was enough to leave him a little speechless.

‘I like you.’ He began but immeditly felt that like wasn’t the right word to use when putting into words of what you did to him. ‘No, that don’t sound right because at the end of the day y/n, I fucking love you.’ Felix corrects himself and you immeditly felt the anything that you wanted to say to him exit your brain, as his sudden declaration took its place as the only thing that you could clearly focus on. ‘I brought you to Saltburn in hopes that one day I would stop being such a pussy and tell you how I truly felt.’ Felix then looked saddened as he continued. ‘Yet it seems that the only thing I’ve managed to accomplish is pushing you away because I thought that you wouldn’t want me like that, and would try to drive that home by spending time with Farleigh and Venetia.’ By the time Felix had finished pouring his heart out to you, everything leading up to this very moment started making a lot more sense, even Farleigh’s cryptic response made sense.

This entire time Felix was planning on confessing and Farleigh knew, which meant Venetia must’ve knew and therefore his parents considering how upon meeting them, they seemingly knew everything about you in incredible detail. You knew Felix was a bit of a blabber mouth under certain circumstances, but you didn’t ever think that he would ever rant to his parents about you in the slightest and in a positive light too. Though it did feel a little odd at first when Elspeth complimented your eyes but now you knew why and you couldn’t help but be flattered; Felix is a handsome and beautiful man that to be viewed within the same perspective was a new feeling entirely.

‘Really?’ You asked, biting the inside of your cheek, praying this wasn’t an extremely realistic dream.

‘Really.’ Felix replied without hesitation, beaming as he brazenly took a step towards you.

‘You’re not fucking with me?’ You asked again, still somehow not finding any of this remotely real, now bitting down on your bottom lip this time.

Felix stepped even closer to you now that you could feel his body heat, his hand gently holding you by the chin as his thumb gingerly pried your bottom lip from your teeth before then moving his head so that it was resting against your own, forcing you to focus on the dark pair of eyes that looked right back at you in a way that one would a masterpiece. ‘I’m not fucking with you.’ He spoke in a low but soft tone of voice. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful and the most amazing person I have ever met. You’re genuine, you’re kind but most importantly, you’re real and I both envy and adore you for that.’ Felix finishes and you couldn’t help but groan with impatience.

‘You could’ve conveyed all that if you would’ve kissed me.’ You whined, hands finding their home within his hair, raking and slightly tugging at the tresses, making him laugh. ‘As you wish.’ He utters cheekily as he then descends his lips upon yours in a passionate kiss that conveyed everything that had been said and more.

[loves1ckmoth]

Please more ambessa and mermaid reader 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

SCALES AND FINS

Ambessa x mermaid!reader

Pt. 1 here ♡

Warnings♡: mean ambessa, dark!ambessa, fem!reader, petnames, she starves reader because they wanna continue to eat fish, ambessa makes the reader call her mistress at the end, Ambessa also chokes her

Word count♡: 971

The first few days were awkward. She did her best to attend to your needs, trying to find human-esque meals that you’ll eat. It’s hard though. You only eat fish, and she can’t stand eating fish every night. So what else is she supposed to expect to force you to eat something new?

When you refused, she grew aggravated and vowed that you wouldn’t be allowed to eat anything else. It’s been two days since that promise, and your hunger is beginning to get to you. When she comes to lay next to you for bed, she feels your stomach and will murmur about what she had to eat, hoping it will make you crack. That morning, you finally crack, breaking down and clinging to her night robe.

“Please… I’m hungry, I wanna eat.” She smirks, cooing condescendingly at you. “Poor baby. You’ll eat now? Finally have some proper food? That’s what I thought.” She wipes the tears from your hunger, watching as the scales that popped up slowly fade. “Such a shame. I can’t wait until that pool is finally built. Then we’ll get to see you happy and home, yes?”

You’ve learned the best thing you can do is nod. She’s nicer when you agree. A soft kiss lands on your cheek, just underneath your eye. “There you are, my girl. I’ll get our food. Practice your walking with the cane and I’ll be back with breakfast.”

She leaves you alone in the room, making sure you won’t leave. She makes sure your cane is within reach of the bed. You manage to stand on your own this time, though wobbling over slightly. She’s made sure you’re getting better despite the low energy from the lack of food.

While walking, you fall over, legs giving in from complete exhaustion. While you struggle to get up with shaky hands, she walks in. Her hands are mostly filled with two plates of breakfast food, so there is a servant at the door, watching you on your hands and knees as you struggle to get up.

Ambessa, seeing a way to make herself seem better in your eyes, hands off the plates to the servant and lifts you into her arms. She sets you gently on the bed, grabbing the water off your tray and shoving it into your hands. She takes the trays back from the servant and dismisses him.

You two settle into bed and she brings up a small table so you won’t make the bed messy. “My poor girl. Do you need me to feed you? Your hands are so shaky, you might make a big mess.”

Her words are condescending as ever, but at least her hands are gentle. One hand gently holds your face softly, the other bringing small bites to your lips. The taste is strange and scary, the feeling new and frightening. But how can you say no when you’ve been so hungry and she’s being so kind?

“These are pancakes. They’re good aren’t they?” She coos, rubbing her finger against your lip. You nod, fear slowly melting away as you can finally enjoy the taste. She’s convincing you, molding you slowly into her perfect pet. You feel slowly as the energy returns to your body.

“There you are, good girl. Ate it all.” She says as she takes the tray off your lap, and pulls you into hers. “What do you want to do today? I’ve taken today off to tend to you, you know. You better make it worth my time.”

You look up at her, head resting against her chest. “Why?” She plays with your fingers and raises a brow at your question. “Finish your sentence. Why isn’t enough? You know you can’t speak in trills either. Use your big girl words.” Her tone is harsh, but not harsher than when she scolded you about the food.

“Why did you take the day off?” Your voice is nowhere near as strong as hers. You understood the human language, of course, but speaking it, especially to actual humans, was new. She’s supportive, at least you think she is, but her teasing and the way she talks down makes you question it.

“Well, my dear… You were so weak due to not following my instructions. I want to make sure you finally get some food in that belly of yours. We all know you can’t do it yourself.” She rubs your arms, pointing at the large mirror at the end of the bed and making you look at yourself. “See? You’ve gotten too weak. Poor, poor girl can’t do anything without her Mistress.”

Her final words come out as a snarl, almost like a predator taunting its prey. You bristle, feeling the hair on the back of your neck. “Mistress…?” She smiles, grabbing onto your chin and tilting it up to make you look at her. Your neck remains exposed and she runs her fingers over it, making you quiver.

“Mistress. That’s what I am to you. I take care of you, I feed you, I clothe you, I own you. You’re a beautiful one at that.” Her words scare and unsettle you, but you’re beginning to find relief in relinquishing control to her. Maybe it is better this way.

“Thank you.” She frowns, her grip tightening on your neck, making your eyes flutter from the sudden effort to breathe. “Thank you what?” She says harshly, leaning down to your ear so the bite in her words gets her point across for her. You’re hesitant, making her grip tighten even more. If her disapproval won’t drive you to speak, maybe asphyxiation will. “Thank you, mistress!”

Your words are hurried, and you gasp and splutter as her hand lets go. “Perfect. See, that wasn’t too bad. You learn so quickly. Such a good girl.”

Hai, I hope you like it:3 Reblogs and likes are most appreciated ♡

[mirathescientist]

pairings: toxic!Eren x black reader

warnings: toxic & manipulative Eren, smut 18+, mentions of cheating, a lil choking, first time writing in a while so it's a lil shitty, last sentence is a lil dramatic, nd she's not proofread

a/n: y'all, this is unfortunately based on true events૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ꒱ა however writing this did make me realize i need to stand the fuck up, bc there's no reason I'm writing this while he goes to get me some food from one of the girls job…please don't be like me and if you are STAND UP!!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

For as long as you could remember you never understood why women went back to men who cheated. Maybe it was that you grew up seeing the effects cheating had on a family, or that it seemed impossible to be that blinded by love. Whatever it was you vowed to never be one of those women and you stuck with your word all throughout life up until you met Eren.

You heard about him long before you met him. The boy having a reputation for romancing women into his bed only to act as if he didn't know him the next day. You knew about his character when you met him, and believed you knew better than to fall for his tricks.

However, with just one look into those enticing green eyes, you ended up just like every other girl. Clawing at his back while he whispered sweet talk into your ear with every thrust.

You were prepared to never speak to him again. You knew what you had signed up for. Or at least you thought so. Like clockwork every night he'd have you back in his bed, wetting up the sheets as he claimed he could never get enough of you. In the beginning, you assumed he had run out of girls to play, but after the 2nd week, his sweet talking seemed genuine.

That was how you found yourself in a year long relationship with the one and only Eren Yeager. Over the course of 12 months, he showed you he had changed for the better. Or so you thought. It wasn't till you had an unsettling gut feeling one morning that you went through his phone and found the pictures from 4 different girls that you realized it was all a facade.

Like you promised yourself from a young age, you left him. Reasonably, you were angry, but that anger soon decimated and turned into sadness and shame, not from the fact he cheated or that you had just left a long term relationship but because you realized you'd take him back if he asked.

That day you gave your formal apology to all women you deemed stupid for taking their partners back because if given the chance you'd be one of them.

Within a month of ignoring the texts and calls from unsaved numbers and acting as if you weren't home, your strength wavered. Your excuse being that you had clothes from his place that you needed. You knew you should have had a friend come with you, but you felt it was unnecessary.

Unnecessary however wouldn't have you with your legs wrapped around his waist as he stuffed you with the dick that had your fingers itching to text him in the middle of the night.

“I'm sorry, baby. None of them meant anything” He whispered, kissing his way up your collarbone.

Oh, how you so badly wanted to push him off for telling lies, but the way he was buried deep inside your walls had you gasping for air and pulling him closer.

His lips curled into a smirk at the way you responded to him. Though he was unfaithful, he truly did have strong feelings for you. Whether it was true love or lust disguised as love, he would do anything to keep you in his arms.

"You know I love you, right? I'd never intentionally hurt you. It was just...stress and temptation, okay? Those girls meant nothing and could never compare to you.” He pulled back to look at you with the eyes that got you into the mess in the first place. His hips rocked into yours, the head of his dick putting pressure on the spot that made you see stars.

“I know, I love you too, Rennie'' You cried

Any normal person would feel guilty about the way they had you wrapped around their finger. Eren however relished in the way you melted in his arms, the intoxicating bond you shared leaving him to the conclusion that he couldn't live without you.

“Yeah? You gon leave me again?” He quickened the pace of his hips.

You said something incoherently as a strangled moan escaped past your lips, eyes fluttering shut from the intensity of his thrusts.

“Can't hear you, mama. You staying?” His hand leaving the sheets to wrap around your neck. Applying just enough pressure to make your thoughts hazy

“Yes, Ren. I'm staying. M'yours” You choked out, from both the ecstasy he was providing and because you truly did miss him.

“That's my girl” He praised, a twisted smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thrust quickening as the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room.

You could only whine and moan in response, the sounds driving him crazy as you looked into his eyes. Nothing but love and lust swimming through them.

“You so pretty, mama” He mumbled, the hand that was once wrapped around your neck coming down to rub small rapid circles on your clit.

“Rennie” You cried, toes curling as you arched off the bed. Stray tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the combined pleasure

“Yeah, I know baby” He captured his lip in between his teeth as he felt your walls suck him in.

The pleasure was unbearable. The coil snapping as your orgasm left your legs shaking and eyes rolling.

Eren soon followed after, finding the way you gravitated to him and the sounds that left your swollen lips so salacious he buried himself inside you, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim as he lazily rocked his hips into yours and whispered fake promises into your ear.

Tiredness immediately took over you as he pulled out. Leaving no time for regret to seep in over the fact you had just cursed your future by allowing him to once again enter your life.

oh nd im backk໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১