#anyways it's all making sense to me right now
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okaylikeschaewon · 23 hours ago
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Hotter-N-Funner
~10k words, Roommates series, smut, Part 1 here
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“... part of a punishment.”
“She did what?!” Mint shouted through the door right before a thundering crash echoed in the room.
“Mint? You alright?!” you called out, holding your ear to the door. “Mint?”
“Yeah, all good!” Mint’s disheveled voice came through. After a couple of seconds, he opened the door, rubbing his hip. “I fell.”
“You fell in the toilet?”
“Not in the toilet you idiot,” Mint shoved your shoulder. “So, tell me, how the fuck did you manage that on the first date?”
“A bit of an odd story honestly,” you started.
“How odd could it be?” Mint asked while grabbing a bag of chips off the counter. “Sounds like a simple case of another college hoe being horny.”
“Be nice,” you scolded him. “She’s actually really sweet. No jokes like that when she stops by.”
“She’s coming over?” Mint gasped through a handful of chips. “I can’t even remember the last girl you’ve had over.”
“I mean it,” you snatched the bag out of his hands and took a chip for yourself. “I really like this girl, I want to see where it goes.”
“Do you actually like her or do you just like that she’s hot as fuck?” Mint asked while he took another chip from the bag as you held it out for him. “What about that bartender you’ve been chatting up?”
“I don’t know man. I don’t think she’s actually interested in a serious relationship anyway, even if I did want that. I’m happy just being friends,” you replied. “But back to this girl, seriously, I had such a good time with her. And sure, it helps that she’s hot as fuck.”
“Yeah of course you had a good time with her sucking-”
“Stop it,” you gave Mint’s arm a little shove. “That’s the one part I kinda regret.”
“Regret? The fuck?” Mint cocked his eyebrows. “Head game that weak?”
“No, that definitely wasn’t the problem,” you sighed. “I just like… almost feel like we robbed ourselves of having a really special first time… does that make sense?”
“No.”
“Maybe you’re right,” you mumbled as you picked up a couple of dirty glasses from the table.
“Here,” Mint took the glasses from your hands. “Of course I get what you’re saying, and you already know I support whatever decision you wanna make. Just tell me though, why do you think this girl’s so special already?”
“Well,” you began before pausing to think for a moment. “One could argue the coffee date and even what happened in the bathroom was kinda forced-”
“You don’t say?” Mint dramatically gasped, feigning shock.
“But lunch wasn’t,” you continued, ignoring his theatrics. “And it went fucking perfectly, we just meshed so well, I swear I could talk to her for hours. The vibe, her energy, everything was just so… when I think about her right now, I think about lunch, not the coffee shop.”
“Sounds like my roommate’s in love already,” Mint teased. “Devil’s advocate, she was just using you for the free meal.”
“She paid for it.”
“You let her pay? That’s not like you.”
“Not exactly,” you elaborated. “We were hitting it off pretty well and the idea of me treating her to dinner sorta came up, so she snuck off to the bathroom and did the whole pay behind your back thing.”
“This might be the most unbelievable part of the story,” Mint chuckled. “Why the hell would she do that?”
“Obviously I don’t know for sure, but this is why I’m telling you I feel like there’s something more here,” you explained. “She could have easily done her punishment and then left, or even taken the free lunch and then left, but I think her logic was if I’m treating her to dinner later that she should take care of lunch.”
“Hmm,” Mint pondered for a moment. “Maybe you’re right about there being something here, and maybe she feels the same way. That would explain why she doesn’t want to make it seem like she’s using you for a meal.”
“I hope so, guess I’ll find out more tonight.”
“You like her enough to give up your fuck buddy? I doubt she’d be cool with you having one.”
“Absolutely, even after just one date with her.”
“That’s crazy, you’d actually throw away what you have?”
“I mean, she’s graduating this year anyway, how many more times am I realistically going to fuck her?” you considered your options. “Girl’s a damn genius and beautiful, she’ll be fine without me.”
“You’re losing her roommate, too,” Mint added jokingly.
“Damn,” you muttered under your breath with a smirk, thinking back to some wild nights. “I kinda forgot about that part.”
“Not so easy anymore, is it?” Mint teased.
“It’s fine, seriously Mint, I haven’t felt this way about a girl since Rina,” you replied. “But it’s also way too early, I’ve known this girl for less than a day.”
“What, you haven’t started picking baby names yet?”
“First I have to work on making the babies.”
“I hope she’s good at that part, otherwise you’re throwing away an absolute dime piece for nothing,” Mint laughed.
“Or, hear me out, I just won’t make it official until next year. That way I’m still clear until Sana graduates.”
“You realize half the guys at this school would literally kill to have what you have going on, and you’re here playing games?”
“I had my fun with her, I guess I’ll be doing half the school a favor by moving on.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re an absolute fuckboy?” Mint scoffed. “Sana is not just a toy for you to use.”
“Once or twice, I think,” you chuckled. “What was the first time again? When I brought that one girl back last year?”
“Oh yeah, the one with the massive rack, right? She was so fucking fit, can’t lie, I was pretty jealous of that one.”
“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I still think about her to this day. She’s really the one who got away.”
“Maybe if you didn’t decide to fuck her best friend, she wouldn’t have gotten away,” Mint burst out laughing as he snatched the bag of chips back. “Absolute idiot.”
“I was drunk.”
“Not an excuse,” Mint kept laughing.
“She was drunk!”
“Even if we accept that excuse - which we don’t,” Mint began shaking his head. “How do you justify the second time?”
“We were horny,” you shrugged.
“Idiot,” Mint chuckled. “The roommate had a cute smile though, I don’t entirely blame you.”
“Yeah, what was her name again?”
“Bro, you’re the one who slept with her,” Mint shook his head in disbelief, laughing at you. “It started with an ‘N’.”
“‘N”? Shit, I really got nothing.”
“Fuckboy,” Mint sang, before gasping. “Wait, should I be concerned about your roommate fetish?”
“Yeah, lock your door when you sleep,” you said casually while cleaning up some dishes left on the coffee table. “Mind helping me? I don’t want Zuha to get the wrong idea.”
“Fuck, even her name is hot.”
“Idiot,” you tossed an empty can at him.
“I know she’s pretty and all,” Mint began helping you clean up. “But seriously? I can’t remember a single time you’ve cleaned up just for a girl. Now that I think about it, you almost never bring them back to our room.”
“Not almost never. Never, not after Rina,” you replied as you fixed the pillows on the couch. “We have any Febreze left?”
“Yeah, in my room,” Mint answered as he tidied up. “Promise me one thing though.”
“What’s up?” you asked as you walked back into the living room.
“If you’re going into this one with serious intentions, promise me you’ll take it slower this time,” Mint responded. “You know I don’t give a shit what you do with your random hookups, but this isn’t a random hookup.”
“Is this because of Rina?” you asked as you casually sprayed ‘Ocean Mist’ into the air. “I told you, I’m all good with that situation.”
“I know you are,” Mint replied. “It’s just that sometimes when you climb too high too fast, the fall ends up being a lot harder.”
“Alright Socrates, relax.”
“Seriously bro, you know I’m just looking out for you.”
“I know,” you gave Mint a tight hug. “I really appreciate you, thank you.”
“And her name was Nayeon, you idiot.”
“Oh,” you gasped, louder than intended, caught off guard by how stunning Kazuha’s figure looked in her skirt and jacket.
“I’m not overdressed am I? I know you mentioned it was a casual place, I can quickly go change if-”
“You look stunning, I love how it brings out your smile.”
“Oh, thank you,” Kazuha turned away slightly, blushing profusely.
It could not be any more obvious that she was nervous.
“Please, come in,” you opened the door wide and stepped aside, a rush of warmth flowing through your body. Kazuha gracefully stepped into your room, leaving you admiring her long, slender legs with each step. She paused ever so slightly as she walked past you before looking around your room. “Have a seat, I’ll be right there.”
Kazuha nodded before stepping across the room and taking a seat on your couch, placing her small black purse on the side table. You quickly stepped into the kitchen and placed two flutes on the counter before filling them generously with champagne and walking over to Kazuha.
“Thank you,” Kazuha respectfully accepted the glass with a warm smile.
“You’re welcome,” you replied, taking a seat next to her.
The two of you took a sip together before placing your glasses to the side. For a moment, she simply stared at you, smiling nervously. Without speaking, you slid your body closer before wrapping your arm around the back of the couch behind Kazuha’s body.
“You smell really nice,” Kazuha commented, leaning forward into you slightly.
“Do I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly.
“Yeah,” she mumbled softly right in front of your lips as she closed her eyes.
The world around you began to gracefully fade away, leaving just you and Kazuha in a shared moment of pure intimacy. Your lips met, gentle at first, a tender brush sending a spark through your body, before gradually becoming more passionate. You found yourself losing yourself in Kazuha’s warmth as your lips pressed deeper against hers.
While the kiss, slow and lingering, continued, your hand found its way to Kazuha’s thigh where it softly pressed against her soft skin. Your other hand fell from the back of the couch to the back of Kazuha’s neck. You savored each moment of closeness, that delightful hint of strawberry inundating your brain with a warm sweetness. Her hand gently made its way to yours, her delicate fingers softly intertwining with your own. The tenderness of your fingers lacing together amplified the connection - invoking a deeper sense of comfort, grounding you in the moment.
Instinctively, your bodies pulled closer, your hand slid down from Kazuha’s neck to the middle of her back, while her arm snaked underneath yours to wrap around your body. The hold you had on each other tightened while remaining tender, a subtle dance of intimacy with your bodies as your mouths stayed glued to each other’s lips.
Finally, the two of you break apart the kiss, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. No words were shared, just an intense gaze as your eyes locked, turning the connection electric. For just a moment, the silence of your feelings was being taken in, the squeeze of Kazuha’s fingers against your body was all you felt.
Then, suddenly, she let go of your body as both of her hands grabbed your face while her lips collided against yours. Initially, you were pushed back by the sudden fierce urgency, but then with equal hunger and desperation you found your strength - now it was Kazuha’s turn to fall backwards.
The kiss was an overwhelming whirlwind of emotions, blurring your senses until you found yourself with your hands on Kazuha’s hips as her back hit the couch. She spread her legs, making room for you to move even closer as your body nestled into hers, still with electricity and passion flowing through the kiss.
With audacious intrepidity, you slipped a hand up Kazuha’s skirt, resting it against the side of her soft upper thigh. She gasped into your mouth, but she didn’t pull away - in fact, she did the opposite. She curled her fingers into your hair, pulling you even closer somehow, your bodies colliding, a testament to your shared passion, urging you to keep going.
Everything just felt right. This kiss felt right. Kazuha felt right. Your brain was desperately trying to make sense of your heart right now, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion that you wanted, needed, Kazuha. Nothing else made sense, the connection was too compelling. Then, you finally pulled away, leaving Kazuha breathless and wide-eyed, you could really feel the fire that the two of you just shared. Your heart was racing, beating out of your chest as you smiled down at Kazuha who was smiling back.
“I should have asked earlier, but you eat sushi, right?” you asked as you sat back up.
“Of course, I love sushi,” she answered, still breathing heavily.
“Perfect, you’ll love this place,” you replied, helping her sit up by taking her hand. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, one second,” she paused, reaching for her glass of champagne and downing it. “Ready!”
“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, who woulda thought our day would end up like this?” Kazuha smiled as she picked up another piece of otoro.
“Breakfast is a wild thing to say.”
“Oh my God,” Kazuha choked, laughing at your reference once she understood what you meant.
“Sorry, that was probably inappropriate.”
“It’s fine,” she laughed, taking a sip of her sake. “If anything, I’m surprised we’ve almost gotten through two meals without bringing it up.”
“Was I supposed to? I can’t say I’ve ever had an experience like that before,” you chuckled, taking a sip of sake as well.
“Trust me, it was new for me as well,” Kazuha replied. “I’m really enjoying spending the day with you.”
“I want to be completely honest with you, I really like you, a lot,” you started cautiously. “I know it’s super early, but I just feel something so special with you.”
“I really like you a lot, too,” Kazuha smiled warmly, showing you that smile, the one that absolutely melted your heart. “It doesn’t feel like the first day, it feels like we’ve been dating for a while already.”
“In a way, this is sort of the third date.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” she giggled before turning slightly more serious. “So then, can I be honest with you for a second?”
“Of course you can, anything at all,” you replied warmly, leaning forward slightly to show her you were fully engaged.
“I promise it’s not because of attraction, because I really am attracted to you, but I sorta regret what happened in the bathroom this morning.”
“Oh my God, me too!” you couldn’t control your excitement. “Sorry, please finish what you were going to say.”
“It’s just that… it’s going to sound a bit stupid, so please don’t make fun of me for it,” Kazuha began blushing. “I almost feel like I ruined a special moment?”
“I swear if I had a ring I’d be on my knees right now, I thought the exact same thing!”
“Really?” her eyes lit up, making her the most pure and beautiful girl in the world in your mind. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since lunch, I wish we could have found each other without the stupid punishment.”
“Look, Zuha,” you reached your hand forward and gently took hers. “It happened, but we can move on from that. I think you’re very special, I’d love nothing more than to see this out properly if you’re also willing.”
“I am,” she smiled softly, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, I think the first day is still a bit too early.”
“Absolutely,” you agreed. “Let’s forget this morning ever happened and we can do things properly. The way we want.”
“I’d love that,” she blushed again.
“I have another one, sorta related.”
“Yeah? Shoot.”
“What do you think about being exclusive? I get it if you think it’s too early.”
She pondered the question for a moment, taking another sip and slowly putting down her glass before answering. “I don’t think it’s too early, at least, I don’t feel like it is,” she answered slowly. “I’m not actually talking to anyone else right now, but I’d be willing to make this exclusive if you are.”
“Me too.”
Kazuha hesitated, waiting for you to continue.
“It’s complicated,” you added.
“Oh, alright,” she replied, looking a bit disheartened.
“There’s this girl,” you began explaining. “We’re not in a relationship or anything, but we have a bit of a friends-with-benefits type thing going on.”
“Oh.”
“I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear, and I’m sorry, but I really want to be honest with you, and of course I promise I’m done with that stuff now,” you replied softly. “My last serious relationship had some… I just don’t want to go through that again, I’d rather be honest with you about everything.”
“I get that, my last relationship also wasn’t great,” Kazuha frowned. “No, you’re right, thank you for telling me. If you don’t mind, do you think we can maybe keep past relationships to ourselves going forward? Sorry, but I don’t know if it’s something I want to hear-”
“You don’t have to explain, trust me, I get it,” you interjected warmly. “And I’ll say the same for you. We’ve both gone through stuff. I'm here if you need someone to talk to about it, but I don’t need to know every specific detail. The past is the past, it doesn’t affect whatever our relationship ends up being.”
“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled again, visibly relaxing as you spoke the right words. “Do you mind if I step away to the bathroom real quick?”
“Of course not, but you have to promise me you won’t pull that trick again,” you answered, flashing her a suspicious look. “I told you I’m treating you to dinner, this one’s on me.”
“Fine,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “I promise.”
With that, Kazuha got up from the table, gracefully making her way across the restaurant. Her movements, fluid as possible, had you completely in awe, unable to take your eyes away. The way her skirt showcased her perfect legs, accentuating those meticulously sculpted curves, she had your breath catching in your throat, mesmerized and captivated by her grace.
She left this imprint on your mind, convincing you that she was something special. The honeymoon effect was hitting hard, even though you weren’t officially together, you knew it was inevitable at this point - you were going to make Kazuha your girlfriend.
“I’m getting this.”
“No you’re not,” you pushed her hand away and tapped your card against the reader.
“You got dinner, this isn’t fair,” Kazuha argued.
“And you’re pretty, what’s your point?”
Kazuha began blushing again, her fingers struggling to put her card back into her wallet. “Th-That has nothing to do with anything,” she stammered, unable to hide how flustered she would get whenever you gave her cheesy compliments.
“Sure it does,” you replied, reaching forward and taking her card from her shaking hand and inserting it into her wallet for her. “I appreciate the gesture, but really, it’s like four dollars, not a big deal.”
“Alright fine, thank you,” she replied, cheeks still flushed a light pink as she accepted her wallet back. “Have you been here before?”
“Nope, first time,” you answered as the two of you sat down. “You?”
“Yeah a couple of times, it’s really good.”
“Ah, so that’s how you picked the flavor so quickly.”
“Actually, it’s my first time trying this one,” Kazuha giggled nervously. “I kinda wanted to try something new, make a new memory with you…”
Your heart skipped a beat. “That is actually so sweet, wow,” you muttered, staring into her beautiful round eyes. “Hopefully it’s good then.”
“Or really bad.”
“Huh?”
“Think about it,” Kazuha began explaining. “Just like when you go to a restaurant, you generally remember the really good and really bad, no one remembers the average stuff.”
“Ah I see what you mean,” you responded. “That’s true, but I promise you I’m not going to forget this ice cream no matter how good, bad, or average it is.”
“And why’s that?” Kazuha chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t tell me, is it because you’re sharing it with me?”
“How’d you know?”
“You’re getting predictable,” Kazuha laughed, smiling brightly.
“And you’re so-”
“Pretty?”
“Beautiful.”
The way her face lit up when she smiled was absolutely enchanting. She didn’t know it, but she had you wrapped around her finger, you were starting to think you’d do anything for this girl. No, you already knew it, you would do anything for this girl. Your heart rate whenever she smiled was all the confirmation you needed.
“Your sundae, enjoy!” a cheery staff member dropped off the bowl of ice cream at your table. “Let me know if you need anything else!”
“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled respectfully at the young girl before turning back to you. “It looks good.”
“Then let’s find out if it’s as good as it looks.”
Kazuha picked up her spoon, scooping up some of the cookie crumbles and fudge ice cream onto it before holding it out for you. Taking her lead, you opened your mouth and let her feed you.
“Wow,” you mumbled as the taste hit your tongue. “That is seriously way better than I expected.”
“Is it?” Kazuha looked at you with glee.
“Yeah, here,” you picked up your spoon and returned the favor, feeding Kazuha the ice cream. Her eyes lit up immediately - she was so unbelievably cute. “Right?”
“You weren’t kidding, that’s amazing,” Kazuha gushed, going for another bite.
Something you noticed, and loved, about Kazuha was that she wasn’t afraid to eat. Even though she was exceptionally feminine and graceful, she wasn’t shy when it came to food. It was adorable, especially with how expressive she would be when the food was good. Within just a minute, full of spoon hitting glass, the bowl of ice cream the two of you were sharing was practically emptied.
“So, Zuha, you never actually told me, what’s your major?” you asked as you put down your spoon. “I just realized I never asked what you wanted to do after school.”
“I’d love to one day teach ballet, and my major is biology,” she answered, scooping out pieces of cookies from the bottom of the bowl before looking up at you and laughing. “You look shocked.”
“Sorry, it’s a lovely dream, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you chuckled. “So I guess the next natural question would be why the hell did you pick biology if you want to teach ballet?”
“Well, I’ve been training ballet my whole life,” Kazuha explained. “And I wanted to do something interesting and challenging on top of that, so I found myself in biochemical sciences.”
That would explain why she was so graceful, you thought to yourself. “That’s awesome, and quite admirable.”
“Thank you. It can be pretty tough managing all of that while still trying to keep some semblance of a social life.”
“You seem to be doing alright,” you replied with a smile. “Especially if you found time to go on a date with me.”
“I make time for things I want to do,” Kazuha smiled back, making your cheeks warm. “What, no cheeky response this time?”
“Sorry, sometimes it’s just so hard to focus on anything other than your smile.”
“There it is,” Kazuha laughed while rolling her eyes.
“Hey, I know it’s getting kinda late, but would you want-”
“I’d love to come over for a bit,” Kazuha cut you off, smiling brighter than ever.
“How could you possibly forget sugar?” you burst out laughing. “They’re cookies, that’s like, the most basic part.”
“That was Chaewon’s responsibility, not mine!” Kazuha defended herself. “Anyway, we tried making them without it.”
“You tried making cookies without sugar?” you laughed even harder. “I gotta know, how’d they turn out?”
“I don’t know, we ended up burning them,” Kazuha joined you in laughter. “I’ll have to make them for you some day.”
“After hearing about your baking skills, I think I’m alright,” you teased, picking up your glass of champagne and taking another sip. “I don’t think I’ll be buying your cookbook.”
“You sure?” Kazuha took a big sip before putting her own glass down. “I’ll even sign it for you,” she added, leaning closer to you.
“Depends what you sign it as,” you replied, putting your glass down as well, opening your arms for Kazuha to snuggle up with you.
“And what would you want me to sign it as?” she asked, her face right in front of yours.
“My girlfriend?”
“I thought we agreed it’s too early,” she whispered, moving her lips even closer to yours. “That one day wasn’t enough time?”
“It’s past midnight already,” you whispered into her mouth before leaning forward and closing the gap slightly.
“Have we really been talking for that long?” she whispered back, closing it some more.
And just like that, you found your lips softly brushing again Kazuha’s once more. The kiss was soft; Kazuha’s pretty eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into it, sweet and tender. The room went silent, completely still, as the air was filled with the lingering sounds of your lips colliding. A tender echo, her sweet breaths reverberating in your ears, perfectly describing the gentle and warm feeling you had coursing through your body as you kissed Kazuha. Delicate and calm, you got lost in her touch.
She brought her hands up to your cheeks, cupping your face lightly, leaning into you. Meanwhile, your hand explored her body, rubbing against her core, feeling through her top how toned she was. Your hand slowly slid lower until it was resting against the side of her thigh, slipping just a bit underneath her skirt.
Kazuha pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, a hint of hesitation showing. “I’m not ready to go all the way,” she whispered softly.
“I’m in no rush,” you whispered back, pressing your lips forward again.
Her eyes shot wide open for a moment before she slowly closed them again, relief calming her down as she began gently prodding her tongue against yours. Then, to your surprise, she grabbed your wrist and gently guided it along her leg until your palm was resting against her soft ass before she brought her hand back up to the back of your neck, her fingers lightly grabbing your hair.
Following her lead, you gave her ass a gentle squeeze, making sure not to push past her boundaries. The way she kissed you, the increase in passion, was confirmation that she was okay with it. Her body was perfect, you got lost in the warmth of her skin, your fingers brushing just slightly against the fabric of her underwear by mistake.
Yet, she didn’t pull back at all. She didn’t seem to mind, at least that’s what her kiss was telling you. Kazuha was getting more and more aggressive with it, and soon enough you found yourself falling onto your back with Kazuha on top of you. Her hands which were previously squeezing your hair, returned to your face, cupping your cheeks again as her tongue pushed audaciously into your mouth.
Her passion was met with your own as you brought your other hand around her body, holding her perfectly sculpted ass in your palms. You gave her a few soft squeezes, addicted to her body, at this point your palms were placed directly on her ass, your fingers gently kneading her softness. Caution was slowly dissipating as you got more comfortable with each other’s bodies.
The moment felt like it was stretching, enveloping you in excitement, a sign of hopefully some future with the girl you were holding onto. However, even though you could have kept going all night, you could feel the natural end coming. With her cheeks flushed red, and a soft smile on her lips, Kazuha pulled back, breathing deeply above you.
“I could really get used to this,” she smiled warmly down at you.
“I’m definitely not going to stop you,” you smiled back before pulling her into your embrace, gently rubbing her back as you took in the lovely scent of her shampoo. “Zuha, it’s getting kinda late.”
“Are you kicking me out?” Kazuha giggled as she started to get off you.
Without hesitation, you pulled her back in even tighter. “Absolutely not,” you clarified, giving the top of her head a little peck. “I was just going to ask if you have class tomorrow morning.”
“I do,” Kazuha sighed heavily. “But it’s fine, I’ll skip it.”
“I can’t in good conscience be responsible for that,” you replied when Kazuha’s phone began ringing. “You going to skip that, too?”
“I probably shouldn’t,” Kazuha groaned as she leaned over towards the table, nearly falling off the couch if it wasn’t for you catching her. “Thanks,” she giggled before answering. “Hello? No, I'm not still out. No, I'm not drunk. Yes Chaewon-ah, I’m safe. Are you done? Oh my God, bye.”
“Cookie girl?” you teased as Kazuha sat up and began stretching.
“Yeah,” she yawned, arms straight up, her top riding up just enough for you to see her perfectly sculpted abs. “I had a lot of fun today,” she smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling as she let her arms fall to her side, shoulders slumped.
“I did too,” you smiled back, sitting up as well to give her another quick kiss. “Want me to walk you back to your room?”
“Actually,” Kazuha bit her lip nervously. “I kinda promised Chaewon that I wouldn’t drink tonight, I don’t really want her to know.”
“Zuha, you should have told me. We didn’t have to finish that bottle.”
“No no, I wanted to drink with you… I guess I felt safe with you,” she replied softly. “But now I have to ask, do you mind if I spend the night? I really don’t want to get scolded by her.”
“Uh, sure, but don’t you think she’ll be more concerned if you spend the night?”
“Nah, she’s going to have to get used to it anyway,” Kazuha replied casually while standing up and holding her hand out for you. “I’m going to be spending the night in my boyfriend’s room from time to time.”
“Boyfriend?” you stood up and grabbed her hand excitedly. “Does that mean…”
“Yes,” Kazuha silenced you with another kiss. “Boyfriend. Fuck timelines, I’m ready if you are.”
If only she could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. “Definitely,” you smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I’m pretty impressed that you have all this makeup remover stuff,” Kazuha commented as she walked out of your bathroom. “You have girls over often or something?”
“Umm.”
“Oh, I completely forgot about…” Kazuha’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry, ignore that.”
“Her name is Sana, but no,” you answered honestly, ignoring her embarrassment. “That stuff is from when I was with my ex. She was the last girl I let in my room.”
“I see, well, it’s very convenient regardless,” Kazuha replied as she looked around your room.
“You’re more than welcome to borrow whatever clothes you’d like by the way, I assume you’re not sleeping in that,” you added as you took off your shirt and pants before getting into your bed, admiring how incredibly stunning Kazuha looked even without makeup - this girl was unreal.
“It’s fine,” a shy smile formed on Kazuha’s lips before she turned around and began stripping down to her underwear as well. “You don’t mind, right?”
“By all means, whatever you’re most comfortable with.”
“I’m going to turn the lights off before I get in, alright?”
“Sure,” you replied casually while plugging your phone into your charger. “Just be careful, don’t trip on anything.”
“I will,” Kazuha responded as she shut off the lights. In the darkness, Kazuha took a second before slipping into the bed next to you, her beautiful face barely visible under the faint moonlight shining through your window. “Can I ask you another question?”
“You can always ask me a question.”
“How’d you like feeling my body earlier while we kissed?”
“Ah, what a question,” you chuckled. “Your body is fucking amazing Zuha, I can tell you work out a lot.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Kazuha asked, her voice littered with allure in the most teasing way possible.
“Your abs, they’re rock solid.”
“Let’s play a little game, how about you try finding my abs in the dark?” Kazuha teased, giggling softly.
“Sounds fun,” you smirked, reaching your hand across the bed. You fumbled around for a second until your hand made contact with skin, soft skin. It took you a moment before you realized what you were holding. “Yup, that’s a titty, and you aren’t wearing a bra.”
“You’re right,” she giggled, grabbing your wrist and sliding it down until your hand was rubbing against her core. “And these are my abs.”
“Damn, they’re so nice,” you moaned softly. “We should workout together, you could train me.”
“Sure,” Kazuha whispered before sliding your wrist even lower. “And how does this feel?”
“Zuha,” you gasped as she placed your hand between her legs, and sure enough, she wasn’t wearing anything. “What happened to not being ready tonight?”
“This is different,” she whispered. “I’ve already sucked your cock in a bathroom, this is pretty harmless if you ask me.”
“Yeah, but-”
“If you’re not comfortable, I won’t be offended if you pull away.”
Yeah, there was no chance you were doing that.
“You’re sure about this?” you asked carefully as you began rubbing between her legs softly, feeling how wet she was.
“Absolutely,” she muttered, sliding closer to you.
“Then I want this to be perfect,” you whispered back, sliding your other hand under her body and wrapping it around her, placing it on her chest, giving her tit a soft squeeze. “Tell me what feels good.”
“What you’re doing now is nice,” she moaned as you rubbed slow and steady circles against her clit.
“Good,” you breathed before leaning forward and finding her lips.
As you began kissing her, you started moving your fingers a bit faster, sliding down her slit every few circles, teasing her entrance with the tip of your finger. You used her moans as your guidance, feeling for when you hit the right spots, hyperfocusing on what made Kazuha feel good. Once you began finding a rhythm, figuring her out, you started speeding up some more.
“Fuck that’s nice,” she moaned, separating her lips from yours, breathing into your mouth heavily.
With that moment of opportunity, you shoved your mouth into her neck and began kissing her collarbone. At the same time, you pinched her nipple softly with one hand and eased one finger into her pussy, just up until the first knuckle.
“Oh fuck,” she gasped, grabbing the back of your head with her hand and latching onto your hair. “Go deeper.”
And that was exactly what you did, pushing your finger deeper while using your thumb to rub her clit. You also took the opportunity to move lower down her body, leaving her neck and putting your mouth on her nipple, sucking it taut. With your mouth on one nipple and your finger lightly pinching the other, you found something was working because Kazuha’s whole body was moving up and down with her moans at this point.
Your fingers worked nonstop, gently fucking her pussy, daring to go deeper with each thrust. It was a balancing act of making her feel good and making sure you don’t go too hard, a balancing act that you were succeeding in, clearly. But you wanted more.
“Zuha,” you pulled back, looking up at her. “Can I go down on you?”
Even in the darkness, you could see her bite her lower lip nervously. “Maybe just… just fingers tonight… if that’s okay,” she mumbled quietly.
“No problem,” you whispered back before leaning forward and kissing her again.
She was hesitant for just a second before she got back into it, that burning passion returning with a vengeance. As you kissed her, you went back to slipping your finger into her soft pussy. She was warm, and incredibly wet, a soft wet squishing sound filled the room, mixed with the sound of your kiss, as you pushed your finger in and out of her.
With your tongue down her mouth and one hand gently massaging her tit, it really didn’t take much longer for you to start feeling Kazuha’s insides squeezing against your finger. In rhythmic beauty, she began moaning into your mouth, gasping and panting as her pussy pressed down hard. You slipped your finger out and began rubbing soft circles around her clit, making sure not to press too hard.
Kazuha rode her orgasm out for as long as she could, making sure to never separate her lips from yours. It wasn’t until her body finally relaxed did she stop kissing you. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel around you,” Kazuha mumbled, rubbing wrapping her hands around your body gently. “To think, I only met you because of that stupid punishment.”
“You’re telling me,” you gave her a small squeeze. “I can’t believe how quickly things are moving.”
“Yeah,” Kazuha sighed. “I guess I set the tempo kinda fast this morning.”
“Zuha,” you paused to give her cheek a kiss. “We agreed to forget about that silliness, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I know, but I can’t exactly forget what I did,” Kazuha laughed softly. “Seriously I promise I’m not that type of girl.”
“Zuha-”
“Like, I know it kinda seems like it with what happened this morning and the fact that I’m literally laying in your bed naked, but I swear-”
“Zuha!” you interrupted her. “It’s fine, seriously, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend if I didn’t really like you. So what if things are moving fast, who cares?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Let’s just let things happen, do what feels right,” you added, playing with the muscles on her back. “Whatever feels natural, I’m here with you and committed to making this work.”
“Then how about you let me take care of you?” Kazuha giggled softly.
“What?”
“You realize I can feel everything in this position, right?”
“Alright well with how fucking hot you are, there’s not a straight man on this planet who wouldn’t be, not in this position.”
“I’m not blaming you,” Kazuha whispered, leaning back so that she was face to face with you. She slowly snaked her hand down your body, softly rubbing your shaft through your underwear. “It would be pretty cruel of me if I didn’t, not after what you just did for me.”
“I’m happy just holding you, there’s no pressure for you to do anything tonight,” you replied, your breath hitching as Kazuha slipped her delicate fingers down your waistband. “Really, Zuha, if you’re tired it’s totally fine.”
“Let’s be real with ourselves,” Kazuha leaned forward and kissed you before smiling softly at you. “Neither of us are sleeping much tonight.”
“Is that so?” you moaned as she took a gentle grip on your shaft.
“That’s right,” she whispered before pushing you onto your back. Then, inch by inch, she planted kisses down your body. She started at your neck, moving lower, kissing your chest tenderly, all the while still stroking your cock. As she moved lower down your body, she started stroking faster and faster, pausing only to yank your underwear down. “Did I ever tell you why my punishment involved sucking someone off?”
“No,” you flinched as Kazuha let a glob of her warm spit fall onto your cock.
“Because I love sucking cock,” she answered in a whisper.
Before you could respond, Kazuha engulfed your cock in her mouth, making a firm seal around your tip with her lips, prodding softly at your hole with her tongue. Then, she lowered her mouth, swallowing your whole cock in one swift motion before slowly - agonizingly slowly - pulling back up to your tip. After that, she repeated the motion a few more times, plunging down your cock and slowly withdrawing. Any degree of awkwardness from the first time had been replaced with familiarity now as Kazuha worked your cock like an expert.
“Fuck me, Zuha, that feels so fucking good,” you heaved, trying to catch your breath.
“Yeah?” she replied, her voice soft as sugar, before she leaned in and started kissing your balls.
“Yeah, the only shame is not being able to see that beautiful face.”
“Then turn the lamp on,” Kazuha cooed, tossing your blanket to the side and climbing over you, positioning herself between your legs before putting your cock back into her mouth.
As per her suggestion, you leaned over and turned on a small lamp you kept on your side table. With that, you felt your cock ready to completely erupt as you took a look at Kazuha who was staring up at you. Her eyes were so fucking beautiful. You couldn’t hold back, not with how good she looked right now with her cheeks hollowed, moving steadily up and down your shaft.
“Zuha, you’re going to make me cum,” you mumbled, straining and squirming your whole body as you desperately tried to hold back. “I can’t…”
She wasn’t phased at all, she just kept on sucking your cock at the same excruciatingly slow pace. The next who-knows-how-many seconds went by in a flash, instantly yet somehow lasting forever at the same time. She never once broke eye contact, and her mouth never once changed tempo, all that changed was how much pressure she applied with her lips, expertly varying it to make your cock feel that much better.
It wasn’t until the first burst of your cum flew into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, did she finally stop moving. As your cum began volleying into her mouth, she held her lips tight around your cock, making sure not a single drop leaked through the smirk that formed on her face. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, were fading into adorable little crescents as she proudly accepted all of your cum into her mouth.
“Holy fuck,” you cried out, your cock still pumping away.
Kazuha waited until the impulses slowed down, she let you slowly regain strength, but then as she felt your body relaxing, she started bobbing her head up and down your cock again as fast as she could.
“Please,” you moaned as your cock went into a frenzy, the final few shots of cum flying into Kazuha’s mouth. “Holy fuck!”
Once you were finally done, Kazuha slowly pulled back, letting a fountain of your white cum spill down your shaft as she lifted her lips off, tilting her back before swallowing everything in her mouth.
“I thought there was a lot last time,” Kazuha giggled, unable to contain her proud smile as she grinned from ear to ear. “But there’s so much more this time.”
“Zuha that was so fucking good, look,” you opened your eyes wide. “I’m literally in tears.”
“Good,” she smirked before leaning forward and using her tongue to scoop your cum off your shaft into her mouth. “I’ll do this for you whenever you want. Every night if you want.”
“I would literally die,” you inhaled sharply as her tongue grazed against your tip. “I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else all day.”
“Did you really like it that much?” she asked while licking nearing your shaft, looking for more spilled cum.
“Zuha,” you sat up and grabbed her by the arms. “Yes, I don’t know how to convince you.”
She looked deep into your eyes, her beautiful round eyes shimmering in the dim light of your room. Those beautiful features, the perfect face, sporting a soft expression as she stared at you. “I believe you,” she whispered before closing her eyes and tilting her head.
Without hesitation, you met her movement and pressed your lips firmly against hers, bringing your hands around her body and feeling her back. Her skin was so soft, you wanted to touch and feel her body forever. Unfortunately for you, the kiss did not last forever, and eventually you had to let go of her.
“I know we agreed not to talk about exes, but can I tell you something?” Zuha asked as she snuggled up in your arms.
“What’s up?”
“He’d never kiss me after I-”
Before replying, you pushed her chin up with a finger and kissed her mouth again. “Sounds like an idiot, no offense,” you replied casually. “I’ll never understand that. If I’m willing to suck on a girl’s vagina, I feel like kissing after head is really not a big deal.”
“I’ve never actually had anyone…” her voice trailed off.
“Zuha,” you let go of her and sat up, looking down at her. “Is that why you didn’t let me go down on you earlier?”
Her cheeks turned red as she avoided your gaze for a moment before she looked back up at you and nodded slowly. You bent forward and kissed her again, repeatedly, on the lips for about a minute before sitting up again.
“It’s entirely your choice, I’d never make you do something that you’re not comfortable with,” you began softly while rubbing her thigh. “But I want you to know, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel good.”
“I just can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed,” Kazuha admitted quietly. “It’s not that I’m not comfortable with you, because I am, I just don’t know…”
“I never want you to feel embarrassed around me,” you spoke softly as you moved down the bed and began slowly spreading her legs. “Do I have your permission?”
She hesitated again, as if fighting an internal battle, but then she nodded, her eyes shimmering as the early signs of dawn crept through your window.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” she whispered back, adjusting herself to get more comfortable.
“Then just relax,” you instructed her softly before pressing your lips below her navel and leaving a long, very drawn out kiss on her skin. Then, as you slid a bit lower, you paused to reach up and grab Kazuha’s hands. She took your lead, interlocking her fingers with yours and taking a deep breath. “You’re so incredibly breathtaking, just tell me what feels good,” you murmured, letting the breath of your words hit her pussy.
Your mouth began drooling at this point, overwhelmed by how enticing Kazuha’s pussy looked right now as the sun crept through the window some more, making her body glisten beautifully. It was enchanting. You pressed your lips to her pussy, holding steady as Kazuha took a deep breath, letting her get truly comfortable with your touch before giving her pussy a tender kiss.
“You alright?”
“Mhmm,” Kazuha breathed, giving your fingers a little squeeze, encouraging you to keep going.
Even that small taste of her body had you desperate for more. You wanted nothing more than to shove your face as deep into her pussy as physically possible, to suck and lick her until the sun went down again. But this was less for you, and more for Kazuha, so you took it slow.
With your mouth opened wide, you carefully pressed down on her pussy, creating a seal with your lips and her skin. She squeezed your hand again as you stuck out your tongue and pressed it flat against her folds. You began pressing down, applying pressure with various parts of your tongue, truly relishing in the slight tang of Kazuha’s pussy. She tasted so addicting despite it being so subtle.
And just like that, you were addicted and completely consumed by Kazuha’s taste. Paired with the sounds of Kazuha moaning as you applied more pressure with your tongue and lips, you were in heaven. You moved around, exploring Kazuha’s body to your heart’s desire, pausing occasionally to give her inner thighs kisses before latching back onto her pussy.
The more you feasted, the more she gave. Your lower face was completely drenched in Kazuha’s wetness as she leaked all over you. It wasn’t possible to lap it all up, despite how hard you tried, but you tried nonetheless. As her pussy, wet and warm, responded to your touch, her moans became even more vocal. She was definitely trying to stay quiet to the best of her ability, but she was failing as she got closer.
Especially now, as you could feel her body trembling slightly, each lick made her body jolt. Each kiss sent her into a frenzy. Her moans crescendoed as you sped up, sucking and licking her pussy with all of your power, and her thighs began pressing against the sides of your head and her fingers threatened to crush yours.
Then, with a particularly hefty gush of pleasure jetting out of her pussy, Kazuha began crying out in pleasure, her body convulsing in your mouth. “Oh fuck,” she sobbed, digging her nails into the back of your hands. “That feels so good.”
All you wanted to do was make her feel good - nothing brought you more pleasure. You held yourself in place between Kazuha’s legs, not that you could move even if you wanted to thanks to how hard her legs were clamping down on your face, and you gently teased her pussy with your tongue, giving it a few flicks before planting a very soft kiss on her clit, sucking on it tenderly.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Kazuha moaned, letting go of your hand and pushing your face away, detaching your mouth from her sensitive clit. “It’s too much.”
As soon as she pushed your head away, you dove back in and started kissing her thighs, switching back and forth between them. You knew her pussy was far too sensitive right now, the most you did was let your breath hit her skin, even that earned a full-body shudder. You gave her a final kiss on each thigh before crawling back up the bed next to Kazuha.
She turned to face you, and without saying a word, she lunged for your mouth, kissing you passionately and deeply - harder than ever. You let her take control, she got to guide the kiss, regulate the passion to her desires. Kazuha went on for a bit, even wrapping her leg around your body, rubbing her warmth against you until she was finally satisfied. She backed up, looking you straight in the eyes, the most precious girl you have ever seen in your life.
“That was amazing,” she muttered quietly, unable to contain her smile.
“You’re amazing,” you replied, giving her butt a small pat before glancing at your window. “The sun’s up.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Me neither,” you smiled back, giving her another kiss. “So, what should we do?”
“Do you have class?” she asked.
“I’ll skip it if you skip yours.”
“I’m definitely skipping,” Kazuha giggled.
“Then I guess I don’t have class.”
“Perfect,” she turned around and snuggled her body into yours.
Within just a minute of being in your arms, the ‘not sleepy’ girl passed out, pushing against your body with each deep breath she took. You gave her one last gentle kiss on the top of her head before closing your eyes, unable to wipe the smile off your face.
---
A/N:
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I've been wanting to write this for so long and I finally decided to sit down and get to it. Words really cannot explain how into Kazuha I am at the moment, but hopefully this fic at least shed some light on my recent addiction over her.
I don't know what to work on next. The next Dating Seraphs chapter is going to be kinda Kazuha heavy, so I kinda don't want to post that right after this. I think this fic is the first time I've blatantly teased some of the other idols who will be appearing in Roommates, I hope that's exciting for some of you!
Maybe I'll try releasing something else around the New Years, we'll see. I'd love to hear what you guys think about this fic though, I can't rememember the last time I wrote this much straight up one-on-one fluff in a fic. There's going to be a third part to this mini series, and I promise you that one will have some sex scenes!
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sugawhaaa · 3 days ago
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JEONGIN SMUT HEADCANONS
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Sex with Jeongin would...
[Dom ver]
Warnings//genre:: SMUT, oral, fingering, BDSM, spit play, sweat fetish, auralism, probably more I forget 😭
Pairing:: dom!jeongin x sub!fem!reader
A/N:: I accidentally used the same photo twice but...Shh I'm too lazy to re-edit the thingy. Also the tiles for each section are a little vague, it's just for the vibes
Skz masterlist:: 🎀
🎧::
Feel like::
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☆-Jeongin is a sucker for deep and fast sex...like listen Jeongin can be impatient as hell and he just needs to get in there yk what I mean?
☆-I can see him being a bit of a tease with this like when he first goes inside he waits like a few second before just putting in all of his pent up lust into pounding into you.
☆-Jeongin has been getting big asf lately and I can see him kinda having a size kink, ofc in the sense that he's bigger than you, so doing things like lifting you by your hips or guiding your body by the waist is totally his thing.
☆-Messy kisses with a fuck ton of tongue while fucking you 😫
☆-he likes to put his hands around your face and neck area. Not deliberately choking but just asserting his control, you know? Also making a mess of your spit, dipping his fingers into your mouth and making you suck on them.
☆-some spanking every now and then ^^
☆-He loves to roam his hands all over your body, your tits, thighs, ass, tummy, back, wherever he has access to his hands are gently massaging.
☆-hes so gentle when taking your clothes off ggrrr but once in a blue moon he doesn't give a fuck, he needs you naked right fucking now.
☆-You'll find his fingers in your hair quite often. Sometimes it's to pull your head back and add just a twinge of pain or other times it's just to ground himself and pull your head closer to kiss you deeper.
☆-his fingers are so long and feel perfect against or in your body. He'd use this kind of method where he sorts through your folds with his fingers by gently gliding his finger down the seam of your pussy.
☆-his fingers also hit very deep inside you to the point he has to curl his fingers so he doesn't hurt you <3
☆-hes not very into anal or anything but he would like to put a vibrator in one of the two holes and then fuck the other 😩🤌
Sound like::
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☆-this man loves dirty talk so much that he is just rambling and rambling the entire time in between moans and cries. He'd say all kinds of kinky things you wouldn't imagine him to say but...he does have a freaky side.
☆-"I love it when you make that pretty face" "stick your tongue out," "awh is my baby crying?" "Shh, it's okay, you can cum soon,"
☆-He really likes hearing the sounds of your bodies colliding in anyway, the sound of your tongues dancing, the bed creaking, his hips slapping against your ass, his tongue sorting through your folds, and the sounds you make when you suck him off 😩
☆-sometimes he'll play music in the background to set the mood as well, something lofi and more relaxing than sexual unless, of course, it's one of those real freaky nights.
☆-wet noises <3 when he fingers your wet pussy so deep and he can hear your arousal sorting through his fingers.
☆-hearing your moans is his favorite thing ever, he does anything and everything to make you moan louder and higher pitched.
☆-as I mentioned earlier he is a deep and fast kinda guy so you best believe the bedframe is often begging for mercy 😁 (imagine the headboard hitting against the wall all night while the members are just trying to sleep)
☆-whispering dirty words to you <3
☆-he curses a lot during sex, though he kind of feels bad about it. He wants to keep it romantic and passionate but when your walls hug him so tightly and your nails are digging into his back he can't hold back.
☆-"Oh fuck baby," "shit I'm close!" "God damn baby, you suck me so fucking good,"
☆-I can see Jeongin making a mix of noises between grunts, moans, growls, and so on, you get the point. He's very vocal though, loud and passionate, he doesn't hold back a thing.
☆-he isn't too into daddy type tropes but he does love calling you all kinds of things that make you feel small, like babygirl, darling, princess, etc. However he is into calling you mommy 👀 but that's for the next part
☆-basically to sum up this section, sex with Jeongin is loud and he loves embracing that fact.
Look like::
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☆-hear me out...sweaty sex. I feel like he'd sweat quite easily when pounding you, sweat building along his hairline and down that sharp ass jawline 😩
☆-Sometimes I feel like people forget how sexy his body is, his thin waist that perfectly tapers to his sturdy hips and thick thighs, like come on.
☆-Most of the time you'll see Jeongin on top of you in the dark. The only light source being the night sky as he looms over you, his broad chest covering your body as his knees trap you between him 🥴
☆-backshots...also cumming onto your tummy as well 🤌 he does really like creampies but he loves messy sex even more. Usually in one session he'll cum outside and inside of you at least once each. A good balance.
☆-he loves loves loves making you squirt. That sexy face you make every time, the way your body moves on its own, the way you moan, it's everything to him and best of all, the mess you make, all for him.
☆-this may sound weird but I can see him smiling a fair bit during sex. After very explosive orgasms or when it just feels so good he has to smile with a little chuckle.
☆-bro would love shower sex, I firmly believe this, so seeing him all wet is a common occurrence during sex. His hair clinging to his face as water drops down his face and chest before pressing you against the wall to fuck you all over again.
Taste like::
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☆-this man eats pussy so good, have you seen his tongue work on stage? He knows how to make a woman cum 5 times over in one sitting.
☆-I can see him being really sloppy when he eats you out, his saliva dripping down on his chin and all over your pussy.
☆-oral for him can be whatever really. Sometimes it's slow an sensual or romantic and sometimes it's more...erotic
☆-he loves hearing the sounds of his cock wedging down your throat though 😩 and he likes when you let him cum on your face or make cum bubbles etc, be messy.
☆-eating you out from behind >>> he'd get you to go on all fours and he'd come up behind you to make out with your cunt.
☆-he loves spreading your folds, thighs, or ass when eating you out, he needs to get right up in there.
☆-he's the type of guy to not finger when he eats you out, he doesn't need his fingers to make you cum, only his sweet tongue and lips.
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lovelettersfromluna · 1 day ago
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Under Your Spell
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summary: what’s that old saying? Best way to get over someone is to get under…..yeah yeah, we all know where this going, don’t we?
an: Hi! Long time no see, huh? I hope you’ve all been doing well! I’ve missed it here a lot, more than you could ever know. The semester is over, and I’m finally free! (For a little bit). College is very hard, and it took a lot of me this year, but let’s not get into that right now. This chapter has been VERY long awaited, and I am so sorry that it’s taken this long to get to you all. This one is pretty short, but not only did I want to get it out to you all in time, but I also have lots planned for the next chapter! (Luna you’re putting four parts into one of your fics???) I know I know, shocker right? Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this past despite it being short! Love you 🤍🤍🤍
warnings: MDNI!, 18+ fic only, slight smut, lots of angst, mean!Ellie, idiot!Ellie??, Abby’s in this one hehe, making out, drinking, let me know if I missed anything!
Part 1, Part 2
Sleeping in your bed had become extremely difficult.
It was like every time you laid your head against the soft pillows, your skin sliding against the soft material of your sheets, your brain would be filled with images of Ellie. The feeling of her lips on your throat, her hands on your hips, everything she’d given to you was permanently burned into your memory.
You couldn’t get away from her, no matter what you did.
You let out a soft sigh as you sat at your old desk, your cheek resting against your palm as your fingers traced along the smooth material of the wood. Things had gotten a lot trickier after your last night with Ellie, your mind clouded with confusion regarding the entire ordeal.
Ellie had….sought out for you. She definitely did the first time but there was something about her coming home from a night out, and slipping into your sheets that had your mind in shambles. It didn’t make any sense, you were sure that whatever happened between you and Ellie was a one off, something that was influenced mainly by alcohol and forced proximity. The played out story of the brother’s best friend ending up in a sticky situation with the younger sister. It was cliche, but it happened.
That didn’t change that it left your stomach in knots every time you heard the floorboards creak near Ellie’s room.
You’d done a pretty good job at avoiding her and the entire situation. It meant that you were in complete and total lockdown, even worse than before, however it saved any awkward tension, which you’d much rather trade for a few months of complete isolation.
But as all good things did, it was coming to an end.
Because you were given a choice, one that dangled your pride, and your social life in your face, forcing you to choose which you valued more.
Every summer, a huge party was thrown down at the beach. You and your brother joined as soon as you were old enough to drink, your parents went when they were younger, their parents went, and nearly everyone in your town experienced it at least once. It was like a tradition, one that every young person would look forward to.
It was one of your favorite parts about being home for the summer.
However, there wasn’t a party thrown in town that your brother and Ellie wouldn’t join.
And that’s where your choice came in.
You’d been going back and forth with yourself all week, weighing out the pros and the cons of it all. You knew that there were ways to get around her, to make sure that you wouldn’t see here while you were out there. To top it all off, you hated the idea of letting Ellie rip away one of your favorite things to do while you were home, giving her that much power didn’t make any sense to you.
But you still couldn’t push yourself to do it.
You swiveled your chair back and forth, staring up at your ceiling as you struggled to make a decision. However the clock was ticking, and the party was officially happening tonight. You didn’t have much time to go back and forth with yourself anymore.
It was either you swallow your pride, go out and enjoy yourself for the first time since everything happened with Ellie, ultimately standing up for yourself and sending her a big fuck you while doing so…
Or
You let her win. You sacrifice your time there and you let Ellie steal your time. You let her make a fool out of you by being too hung up on the very weird attention she’d been giving you, and you stay in your room for yet another night while everyone else is having the time of their lives.
Thinking of it that way didn’t leave you much of an option, did it?
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You practically rip your room apart looking for the perfect outfit to wear, which ends up being a pink halter top that flows down a bit at the ends, a pair of your favorite denim shorts and your sneakers. By the time you’re finishing up your hair and your makeup, you hear the faint sound of your brothers minions showing up, pairing that with the music that starts playing leaves you to figuring they’re probably pregaming before they leave.
That’s when it starts feeling real.
You let out a deep sigh as you stare in the mirror, fixing your top over your chest before fluffing out your hair and fixing your lip gloss, giving yourself a gentle affirming nod before you push your phone into your back pocket and head downstairs.
A blanket of silence falls between Derek and his friends when they notice you, multiple sets of eyes zeroing in on you as you slip between your brother and one of his friends silently to pour a shot before throwing it back with ease. Hazels the first to comment on it.
“Awe man, I didn’t think the first grader could hang….you joining us tonight sweetie?” She taunts, her perfect teeth pressing down into her plush bottom lip as she stares at you, a challenging look in her eye.
Derek is the next one to speak up, a surprised look on his face as he stares down at you. “Wait…really? You’re coming with us?” He quips hopefully. Had Hazel kept her fucking mouth shut, you probably would’ve found the sentiment sweet from him.
You inhale deeply to calm yourself, staring down into the empty shot glass before you finally raise your eyes to look at Hazel, only to find her standing across the island, her back pressed into Ellie’s chest as her tattooed hands toy with the exposed skin of Hazel’s waist.
You completely ignore Ellie’s eyes burning holes into you.
“Shut the fuck up Hazel” you bite back before pouring another shot.
Your words earns reactions from the group instantly, even your brother chuckling softly as he gives you a proud smile. Hazel however, is not amused in the slightest.
Her poker face drops for a moment, nostrils flaring as she stares you down like she wants to jump over the table and have you for herself, but she quickly picks it up, giving you an impressed smirk before she nods slowly.
“Ahh so she speaks…my apologies sweetheart” she practically grits out before she lets out an annoyed sigh.
“Let’s go then. I don’t wanna be late” she quickly seethes out, pushing herself out of Ellie’s arms so she can grab her purse that was sitting on the couch.
You trail behind the others after your brother reassures you things will be okay, giving him a soft smile as you all pile into his car, ultimately missing the way Ellie’s eyes trail you the entire times
The car ride there feels nostalgic. The summer breeze turns cooler the closer you get to the familiar beach, your brother blasting his music in the front as you rest your head against the edge of the window, letting the wind blow through your hair.
It makes you wish things were different. The warmth in your chest would’ve paired so well with a better crowd, one that didn’t see you as the annoying little sister that tagged along when she really shouldn’t be.
Your mind takes you to an alternate reality where things are different, one where you get along with your brother’s friends. You wonder if they’d like you if they gave you the chance, if they weren’t predisposed to not liking you simply because you’re younger than them…
You wonder if things had been different, if you and Ellie could’ve been something.
Because clearly there’s attraction there, there had to be. Were you so wrong for even letting your brain wander there? Wondering what life would be like if you and Ellie were cordial, let alone experimenting with a relationship in a normal way, and not the way you’d been going on for this past summer.
What would it be like if she treated you the way she treated Hazel while others were around? What would it be like if you were in Hazel’s position? Propped up in Ellie’s lap while the others sang songs and joked around with each other?
You’d never know, because you were in this reality, not a perfect one.
You don’t even realize when your brother pulls up to the beach. The gentle shake of the car as his friends practically run out is what rips you away from your thoughts. You clear your throat as you make your way out once everyone is gone, brushing down your outfit as you make your way down the familiar path to the beach. The beach is blossoming with the sound of life. Loud music quickly surrounds you, people dancing, swimming, drinking, it’s almost so perfect it feels cliche, and that alone reminds you that you’d made the right decision by deciding to come out.
You’re the moth, and the ocean is your flame.
It draws you in closer as you sip the drink from your solo cup, appreciating the pattern of the tide rolling in, wetting the sand beneath it, only to then pull back out shortly after. It’s what you’d missed most about the beach in your home town, its ability to calm you no matter what was almost remarkable, even with the crowd of people around you.
You have to stop yourself from walking too far down the beach, knowing deep down that Derek’s friends would take any chance to ditch you while we’re oblivious to what was going on. It’s how you end up out on one of the piers, your legs dangling over the edge as you stare up at the moon, watching as the waves roll in while you sip on your drink.
There’s heavy footsteps along the wooden pier, ones that you don’t quite catch between the heavy sound of the waves, and the music nearby. It isn’t until a familiar voice rings in your ear that you realize you’re not alone.
“You know I heard you were back in town….but I thought there’s no way you’d come back without texting me first” the words come from behind you, and your eyes widen once you catch the tall frame standing over you.
Abby Anderson
She was one of your closest friends back in elementary school. It wasn’t nice to admit, but you’d drifted apart once you both got to high school. It was in the most natural way possible, but she always managed to stick around in your mind from time to time.
Before all of that, you two were stuck at the hip. It was a similar friendship to Ellie and your brother, the two of you always running through your house, causing many headaches for both your parents and her parents whenever you were both together.
You hadn’t seen Abby in years since you left for college, it’d been so long that you didn’t even realize how long it had been.
Her physique was quite the sign that time had passed though.
You gasp softly when you realize it’s her, quickly pushing yourself up off the pier to push yourself into her already opened arms.
“I didn’t know you came back for the summer…god it’s been so long” you sigh out against her broad shoulders, the sweet smell of her perfume filling your nose as you let your eyes flutter shut, relishing in the feeling of her strong arms wrapping around your waist.
“You’d know if you thought to hit me up once in a while” she teases. You can hear the smirk in her voice as she keeps you close. It makes you giggle softly as you finally pull away from her, wanting to get a good look at the girl.
She’s just as pretty as you remember. Abby always had the prettiest blonde hair, and the most charming smile. Those were never things that you failed to notice about your friend, however she’s different now. She’s taller, her build a hell of a lot more stronger than when you were in elementary school, her hair longer and tucked into a thick braid…
You have to stop yourself from staring.
She peers down into your cup, noticing that you were getting empty. She nods her head towards the bonfire before speaking.
“Let’s top you up while you tell me alllll about your life in the big city, yeah?” She offers, to which you dumbly nod to as you follow next to her almost obediently.
After that, the two of you were glued to the hip the entire night. Between catching up on what life had brought the two of you within your adult years, and reminiscing over your time as kids, the world could be burning around the both of you and you two wouldn’t have noticed a thing. For the first time since you’d came home, you had finally found someone to spend time with.
And Ellie notices the entire thing.
Her eyes were on you the entire night. From the moment you came downstairs at the house, it was like she was under some fucked up spell that made it so she couldn’t function unless you were in her line of view. She couldn’t count on her hands how many annoyed sighs she received when her friends realized she wasn’t listening to what they were saying, instead busying herself with figuring out where the hell you were.
She tracked you like she was the predator, and you were her prey. She made sure you didn’t stray too far away from the group, made sure you didn’t do something stupid like strip naked to take a quick dip into the cold ocean. She was just being helpful! It wasn’t like she felt her mouth go dry every time it looked like someone was going to approach you….
And its like fate was on your side that night, because the moment Abby approached you at the dock, Hazel was settling herself into Ellie’s lap, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck and ultimately blocking you from her view completely.
The next time she does get a chance to see you again, you’re wrapped up in none other than Abby Anderson’s arms.
It’s just her luck, isn’t it? That out of every girl in your small beachside town, you choose that fucking idiot. You choose the girl that everyone knows to be Ellie’s sworn fucking enemy since forever. The only explanation is that you’re doing this on purpose. You know exactly what to do to get under Ellie’s skin. You did it when you were flirting with Jesse right in front of her, you did it when you kicked her out of your bedroom the last time you two were together, and you were doing it right fucking now by getting all cozy with Abby fucking Anderson.
So of course, she has to try and stop this.
But Ellie soon realizes that she spends way too much time mentally dwelling over this, and accusing you of something she knew deep down was very much out of character for you, because the second her eyes search for the two of you, she’s met with something she can only assume was pulled out of her worst nightmare.
You and Abby hand in hand as she helps you into her car.
Ellie is quick to push Hazel off her lap, her eyes now frantically searching for your brother. Once she spots him, she’s interrupting his conversation the moment she opens her mouth.
“Hey man…have you um….do know where your sisters going right now?” She asks almost out of breath, her eyes shifting quickly between Derek and Abby’s truck as she pulls out of her spot in the parking lot.
Your brother raises his eyebrows as he looks back to where you are in the girls car, nodding as he takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah, she just came and told me her friend is gonna take her home” he explains casually with a shrug before he tries to turn back to his conversation.
Ellie scoffs in disbelief at his casual tone, her hand reaching forward to grab his shoulder and turn him around to face her again.
“Friend? Did you even see who she was leaving with?” Her voice is laced with worry and distress as she complains to your brother, the man oblivious to Ellie’s frantic demeanor.
“Wasn’t it just Abby? They’ve been friends forever…I honestly don’t trust anyone other than that girl. Have you seen her fucking arms? I think my sister is in good hands with her” he chuckles softly as he gives Ellie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Between his words and his reaction to the entire thing, Ellie feels like she’s going to lose her fucking mind.
Her green eyes go wide as she stares at your brother before she gives a laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s just Abby? As in Abby fucking Anderson? Are we talking about the same girl here? Or are you suffering from fucking brain damage?” She snaps back.
Her wild eyes and mean words take your brother back, his playful laughter dying down once he realizes that he friend is quite literally tweaking over the fact that you’ve left with the girl that he knew she had some beef with.
“Woah…calm down man. It’s just my sister, your beef with Anderson doesn’t really have anything to do with her…she’ll be fine” he tries to assure her once more, his tone softening to calm his friend.
This does nothing though. It makes Ellie pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she shakes her head. “Give me your keys” she demands with her palm out, pushed towards him.
Derek furrows his brows in confusion. “What? Are you seriously going to-“ he’s quickly cut off by Ellie, stopping him from finishing his question.
“Give me your fucking keys Derek. I’m not letting that asshole get it in with your sister” she finally admits, her words making your brothers eyes go wide with realization, finally seeing the situation for what it really was.
He inhales deeply before he reaches into his pocket and finally places his keys into his friends hand without another word, biting back the smirk that threatened to grace his lips.
He always thought Ellie’s animosity towards you was weird, but he never thought it would mean this all along.
She doesn’t even notice, the girl quickly taking the keys and mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as she jogs up the path to the parking lot to jump into your brothers car, and race home.
Meanwhile at your house, Abby was showing you quite the time.
It didn’t take long for you two to give into the tension that had settled the moment she picked you up from the dock. One moment you were toying with the little loose hairs falling from her braid and framing her face, and the next you were tugging her up to your bedroom and locking the door behind you.
Her hands were all over you, caressing your body as her knee began grinding into your core, her lips swallowing up your moans as you clung to her desperately, chasing your high as if your life depended on it.
The feeling of Abby against you cleared Ellie out of your head almost immediately. You weren’t worried about her or the mean things she’d said to you, or the nasty way she’d treated you after getting what she wanted from you. What once was a bed that you could barely sleep in without thinking of her was now filled with the feeling of Abby, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
Ellie realizes she’s too late when she pulls into your driveway to see Abby’s truck is still there, and she has to stop herself from ripping your brothers car door off when she gets out and slams it closed. There’s still something in her that hopes this is all innocent, that you didn’t really do the unthinkable and take Abby Anderson home to spite her. She hopes that the sweet side of you has taken the moral high ground, that you’ve gone to bed like the good girl she knows you are and Abby just happened to walk home and leave her car in your driveway.
So when she’s jogging on the stairs after frantically searching for you downstairs, hoping that she’ll find you sound asleep in your bed, her blood practically runs cold when her hand wraps around your doorknob…
And she can make out the familiar sounds of your moans through your door, paired with Abby’s words of encouragement to go with it.
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lechrts · 2 days ago
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Stay Unspoken. ✷ Lando Norris
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Pairing: Lando Norris x Bestfriend!reader
Summary: A confession that was too late.
Word Count: 1.3k
Disclaimer/s: Angst……
Vera’s Voice! okay so basically i…. Ueah i got nothing. Jusr. Just read and I hope u enjoy ^_^_^
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The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of voices filtering through the walls. You stood by the tall windows, the train of your dress fanned out behind you, catching the soft afternoon light.
Lando’s eyes were drawn to you, as they always were, as they always had been.
"You’re late," You said without turning, your voice light, teasing, familiar in a way that made his chest ache.
"Wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t," He replied, his tone forced casual as he stepped inside.
You turned then, a small smile tugging at your lips, but he didn’t miss the nerves dancing in your eyes. It hit him all at once—the vision of you in white, the way your veil framed your face, just the sheer weight of the day.
“Just couldn’t find my way through all the wedding madness,” He continued, forcing a chuckle, but it came out flat, unconvincing.
Your lips twitched into a small smile. “I thought you’d be used to the venue by now.”
He shrugged, stepping further into the room. “Ehh.. ish.”
You tilted your head, studying him with a familiarity that had always been both comforting and disarming. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just… big day, right?”
“For both of us,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “I mean, you’re practically family. And you’ve been with me through everything, Lando.” Your voice dipped slightly, more serious now. “I wouldn’t have made it here without you.”
He felt his chest constrict at your words, but he forced a smile anyway. “Guess that’s what best friends are for.”
You hesitated, catching the shift in his tone. Your eyes narrowed slightly, not with suspicion, but with that quiet concern he’d come to both love and fear. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “I’m fine.”
“Lando…” Your voice was softer now, more coaxing. You reached out, your fingers brushing his arm. “Talk to me.”
He swallowed hard, the familiar weight of your touch making it harder to keep everything bottled up.
“It’s nothing,” He said again, but the crack in his voice betrayed him. He turned away, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… It’s a lot, you know? Seeing you like this.”
You frowned, stepping closer again. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head, trying to laugh it off, but it came out hollow. “You look beautiful. Like, stupidly beautiful. It’s just… weird.”
“Weird how?” You pressed, your brows knitting together. “Do I look bad??”
“Oh, no!! No, no, no.” He shook his head quickly. “You look amazing.” He hesitated, weighing the words in his mouth, the ones that wanted so desperately to come out. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not today.
“It’s just..” A breath came out shakily.
“You’re marrying him,” He said finally, his voice quieter now, like he was saying it more to himself than to you.
“It’s… a lot to take in.”
Your breath caught, confusion flickering across your face. “Huh?”
He continued, his voice steady but filled with an unmistakable ache. “For years, I convinced myself that being your friend was enough. That it was better than losing you. And maybe I was okay with that—until today.”
You shook your head, stepping back slightly, a sense of panic creeping in. “Lando…” You started slowly, and fearfully. “You’ve known about this for months. You’ve been nothing but supportive. What’s changed?”
He let out a sharp breath, his shoulders tense. “Nothing’s changed,” He said, his voice sharper than he intended.
Then, softer, almost trembling:
“Yet, everything’s changed.”
You stepped back, your arms crossing as if to shield yourself from whatever was about to come next.
“What are you trying to say?”
He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours, as if hoping you’d already know so he wouldn’t have to say it. But the words came anyway, slow and deliberate, like they’d been clawing their way out of him for years.
“I…” He paused, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”
Your breath hitched, and the room suddenly felt unbearably small.
“Wha—“ You whispered, your voice barely audible.
“I tried to ignore it,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost defeated. “But seeing you like this, knowing what’s about to happen—it’s killing me.”
Your frown deepened, confusion mixing with disbelief. “And you decided to tell me now? Today? Do you have any idea how unfair that is?”
“I didn’t want to,” he said quickly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I didn’t plan this. But seeing you like this, knowing that everything changes after today.. it’s too much.”
You shook your head, taking another step back, your hands trembling. “Lando, you had years to say something. Years! And you wait until now, on the day I’m supposed to marry someone else, to tell me this? Do you realize how selfish that is?!”
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I know it’s selfish. But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. Not today.”
You stared at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Do you think this changes anything?”
“No,” He said quickly. “I know it doesn’t. I know you love him. I know you’re marrying him. But I couldn’t stand here, watching you take this step, and not tell you the truth. You deserve to know.”
You let out a shaky laugh, but it was bitter, filled with frustration. “The truth? What am I supposed to do with this truth, Lando? You think it’s going to make me feel better? Make you feel better?”
“I don’t know,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, almost defeated. “I just… I needed you to know. That’s it. I’m not asking for anything.”
You turned away from him, your hands gripping the edge of the windowsill as you tried to steady yourself. The silence between you stretched on, suffocating.
“Leave,” You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitated, his feet rooted to the spot. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words hollow, meaningless.
“Just… go,” You said again, your voice cracking.
He lingered for a moment longer, his heart breaking as he watched you turn away, shoulders trembling.
But he knew there was nothing left to say, nothing he could do to fix the damage he’d just caused.
Without another word, he turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind him. And as he stepped into the chaos of the wedding preparations outside, he realized that some truths weren’t meant to set you free.
Some were meant to shatter everything you thought you could hold onto.
Lando Norris was your best friend. And maybe, in another life, he could have been more.
But in this one, he would be the boy who should’ve stayed unspoken.
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Well.
likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated!!! ^_^ follow me for more & ask if you’d like to be apart of my tag list!!!!
tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress
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sailorrhansol · 1 day ago
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i'm a ho ho ho..... cheol/chan/reader.... bonus if chan is in a "learning" role and cheol is in charge of the whole thing :) :) :) my brain is a basic bitch i can't do anything with her
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❀ Pairing: Chan x Reader x Seungcheol
❀ Summary: You always enjoy the office holiday party each year, especially when you get to do secret santa. This year, you enlist Seungcheol’s help to give Chan the perfect gift. 
❀ Word Count: 5,632
❀ Genre: PWP, Polyamorous, Established Relationship (Cheol x reader)
❀ Type:  Smut
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: Just pure filth honestly. Fucking in an office when they totally should not be, mention of power dynamics in the sense that Seungcheol is both Chan and reader’s boss but they kind of skip around that even though Cheol explicitly makes sure to let Chan know it’s okay to reject, semi-public sex if you count the fact they’re in an office, implied but not explicit dom/sub dynamics with Seungcheol as the dominant and reader/Chan as the more submissives, oral (f. receiving) and vaginal fingering, pussy drunk Chan, spitting, multiple orgasms, a little bit of overstimulation, some hair pulling, biting, a lot of heavy kissing and making out, it is a light threesome - this is mostly reader and Chan with Seuncheol very involved in instruction/kissing/touching them. Nickname use: baby for reader, Channie for Chan and one (1) Cheolie for Seungcheol
❀ A/N: Mojo Jojo Siwa I love you so much. Happy belated birthday but also happy it-took-me-three-weeks-to-fill-your-request. I BELIEVE IN BOYS KISSING BOYS DURING THREESOMES SO IF YOU DON’T LIKE THAT SHIT GO AWAY. ALL SIDES OF THE TRIANGLE TOUCH IN MY WORLD BECAUSE BISEXUAL SUPREMACY. Anyway - here is this absolute filth and dream that Jo convinced me to write - I cannot be held accountable for how many times hands and mouth and spit are mentioned thank you 🫡
❀ A/N 2: THIS IS UNEDITED BECAUSE I’M THE GRINCH AND I DON’T WANNA BETA READ MY OWN STUFF. SPELL CHECK WILL HAVE TO DO FOR RIGHT NOW. 
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliday’s Request Event
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Nervousness creeps up as you watch Chan open up his gift, eyes zeroed in on the way his deft fingers peel back the wrapping paper carefully. Chan is always so careful, his touch delicate and precise, sliding his fingers under the seam of the paper to pry it open without ripping anything. 
Holiday music plays loudly over the speakers on someone’s desk. Everyone talks and sips on drinks, gathered around the conference room table as Chan finishes opening his git, shedding the wrapping paper. He’s already grinning, lower lip tucked between his teeth as he shakes his head, red creeping up the side of his neck. 
You try not to react, pleased to see that he likes the stack of limited edition books you’ve gifted him. He runs his fingers over the decorated edges, just as careful not to damage them as he was with the wrapping paper. You squirm in your seat, sipping more champagne to quell the dryness in your throat and give you more liquid courage. 
Someone places a hand on your shoulder and you spare a glance upward, though by the scent of the heady cologne you already know it’s Seungcheol. He’s watching Chan with a smirk, his dark hair pushed out of his face and his glasses sliding a little down his nose as he watches Chan look around the table, flushed and pleased. 
“This is way over the purchase limit,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck and shaking his head. Mingyu lets out an impressed noise, leaning over to see the books and ask what they are. “They’re a limited edition and signed copy of my favorite fantasy series.” 
“Damn, someone likes you,” Mingyu mutters, sipping his beer. “Time to guess.” 
Chan’s eyes flicker to you. You hold your breath, your pulse thumping in your throat as you try not to avert your eyes. Chan’s eyes drift upward to Seungcheol, who you can feel is equally amused. There’s indecision on Chan’s face, his fingers drumming atop the stack of books. 
“Come on,” Mingyu urges. “Guess.”
Chan’s eyes return to you. Back to Seungcheol. Then to you again. You grin, watching as he tries to work out which one of you bought them. You’re the only person in the office who would know how much he valued that specific book series, but Seungcheol is the only one in the office who makes overspending and spoiling his employees a habit. 
Especially Chan. 
“Fuck, it’s hard,” he admits, gaze settling on Seungcheol, finally. “You, boss?” 
Seungcheol chuckles, the motion of it shaking the back of your chair. You can feel his thumb brushing back and forth on your shoulder, soothing and warm. It feels nice, the champagne turning his touch molten. 
“Nope,” Seungcheol answers, popping the ‘p’ sharply at the end. “Sorry, Channie.” 
Chan’s blush intensifies as he drops his gaze, shaking his head. He cradles the books close to him, possessive. He spares you a glance when he says, “Whoever bought these is far too nice of a santa. I don’t deserve this.” 
He does deserve it. Chan is the youngest member of your company and by far the hardest working and the sweetest. Over the last two years, you’ve watched him grow from the shy, nervous junior employee to a full time member of the staff who is… still shy, but a little more confident in his work with an incredible mindset. 
Sure, your opinion of him is a little bit biased. Chan is your work husband, the person you’re closest to and who you can always go to when you need to vent about Mingyu fucking up your spreadsheets or for help when you have a last minute firedrill to solve. 
Despite, of course, your actual boyfriend being a few yards away in his executive office. 
Seungcheol doesn’t mind that Chan is your work husband. In fact, he adores it, teasing you when you get shy after vehemently praising Chan during a meeting or nominating him to take more responsibility to prove himself. He likes that Chan has you to take care of him, to lead him through the corporate world when Seungcheol is too buried underneath meetings and paperwork to do so. 
Someone else starts opening a gift, but your eyes are reserved for Chan. You lean into Seungcheol’s touch, eyes fluttering when his hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck. His grip is firm, kneading the muscles along the back of your neck until you’re melting. Your grip tightens on the flute of champagne a little, the plastic nearly cracking under your grip. 
When secret santa has finished, you stand up to help gather the leftover wrapping paper. Coworkers filter out into the main office, turning up the music and dancing around the cubicles as another bottle is popped. You help shove wrapping paper into a trash bag with Joshua, feeling a little dizzy and warm from the bubbles. 
A hand on your lower back makes you straighten. Seungcheol leans down, mouth brushing against your ear when he murmurs, “Go wait in my office. I’ll bring Chan in for his real gift.” 
Your stomach flips at that. You glance at Joshua to see if he notices, but there is nothing to notice. Everyone knows that you and Seungcheol are together - you’ve been dating for five years. He limits his affection in the office, but it's not uncommon for him to press a quick kiss to your head or leave his hand lingering on you for too long. 
Clearing your throat, you nod and let Seungcheol take over balling up the wrapping paper. You’re not drunk but you feel the buzz of champagne and excitement as you hurry toward Seungcheol’s office at the far end, away from where everyone has gathered around Soonyoung’s cubicle to take shots. 
Inside of Seungcheol’s office is dark. The blinds are shuttered so no one can see from the main bullpen inward. Lights glitter beyond the floor to ceiling windows, the city awash in color underneath the light sky, giving the illusion that the world is blanketed in Christmas lights. 
A heavy desk sits in the far side of the room with towering bookshelves behind it. Seungcheol’s monitor is off and his leather chair is pushed into the desk. In front of the desk is a sitting area, equipped with a full leather sofa, glass coffee table, and two arm chairs. 
You go for the sofa, hands shaking as you sit down, pressing the hem of your skirt down your thighs. Swallowing thickly, your eyes dart toward the door when you hear the volume of singing suddenly increase out in the main office. You grin, shaking your head when you realize it’s because Seungkwan has figured out how to use his portable karaoke machine gifted to him by Jeonghan. 
Shadows pass by the window. You stiffen, leaning forward and placing your hands in your lap when Seungcheol opens the door, letting Chan enter first before he slips in after, flipping the lock. Chan immediately stops in his tracks, looking at you before his eyes dart back to Seungcheol. 
Your heart races, watching carefully as Seungcheol starts to undo his tie, slipping a finger underneath the knot to pull it, walking toward you. The action hypnotizes you, your attention solely on him as he finishes undoing it, tossing it onto an armchair before his fingers work the topmost button of his shirt loose.
He sees the nervous look on your face and he wings, his grin lopsided as he rounds the couch to stand behind you. 
“Take a seat,” Seungcheol tells Chan, his hand landing on your shoulder. You react instantly, leaning into the warmth of his hand, nuzzling his forearm a bit. Chan follows Seungcheol’s instructions, his steps slow and full of trepidation. “We don’t bite, Channie.” 
You huff and Seungcheol chuckles darkly in response, amending, “Usually.” 
Chan is the picture of anxiety, wringing his hands in his lap and looking up at Seungcheol through his glasses with wide eyes. His gaze darts to you only for a second before he licks his lips and looks back up at Seungcheol, shifting back and forth in the armchair as he watches the elder. 
“Relax,” Seungcheol laughs. “You’re not in trouble. I told you she had a second part to her gift.”
“The first one is too much,” Chan drops his gaze to you. He picks at his cuticles, showing he’s as nervous as you feel. “You shouldn’t have. The rules were no more than fifty dollars.”
“It was too good not to.” He softens. “I wanted you to have it.”
“You deserve it,” Seungcheol agrees. His hand massages your shoulder, fingers brushing across your skin. You shiver under his touch, watching Chan as his eyes zero in on where Seungcheol’s hand is on your neck. He licks his lips, shifting. “That’s not the only thing she wanted to give you, though.” 
Chan chews his bottom lip. You feel skittish, twisting your fingers in the hem of your dress. You and Seungcheol had broached this subject several times before, though this is the first time you’re committing to voicing your thoughts to Chan. 
Suddenly faced with having to give him your proposition, you’re terrified. What if he says no? Worse, what if you upset him or make him uncomfortable? It’s a huge risk, what you’re asking, especially with the position that Seungcheol is in as your boss. 
The weight of how bad of an idea this is hits you fully. You open and close your mouth, unable to voice your offer to him, the question dying on your tongue.
Seungcheol’s fingers are still on your shoulder. He leans down, tilting forward to catch your gaze with his. His eyes are dark and calm, a cool lake undisturbed by anything, a constant you can always look to when you’re afraid to do something. You root yourself in his gaze, letting his proximity wash over you, comforting. 
Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself this question isn’t coming out of nowhere. Neither you nor Seungcheol would bring Chan here to the office in the dark, away from everyone else if you weren’t borderline positive what his answer would be. 
“I wanted to um…” Your voice is hoarse, cracking with nervousness. You swallow, dropping your eyes into your lap, feeling both of their gazes. “Jeonghan said you kind of had a crush on us.” 
You peek up at Chan to find him white in the face. His mouth parts in horror and you realize this isn’t going the way you planned, your nervousness driving you to the wrong path. 
Seungcheol sees it too, giving you a gentle squeeze and telling Chan, “What she means, but is very bad at saying because she’s nervous, is that she wanted to give you a taste.” 
Silence hangs heavy in the air. Outside of Seungcheol’s office, you hear Mingyu singing All I Want for Christmas Is You. It feels apt, both you and Seungcheol staring at Chan as he looks back at both of you, mouth parted in surprise, chest rising and falling with how heavy he’s breathing now.
“I don’t… understand,” he says finally, addressing Seungcheol. 
“I think you do.” Chan starts to shake his head and Seungcheol tsks, sending a lick of heat down to your core. You know that voice better than anything, and the sound of it turns the air heady. “You can say no. This is the worst place possible for us to be offering this to you and I understand the implications of it coming from… well me. You’re under no obligation and we can go on pretending it didn’t happen.” 
“Jeonghan didn’t mean to tell me.” you tell Chan. “But when he did… I wasn’t mad. I told Cheol and he was pleased to.” You look up at Seungcheol, who smiles at you affectionately. His hand drifts to the back of your head, cradling it carefully. “He likes you too. And me - I like you.” 
“You like me?” 
You nod eagerly as Seungcheol grips your head and faces you back toward Chan. “So I was thinking… you could have an extra gift. If you wanted it. To see if you liked it.” 
“And what does… a taste involve?” Chan asks the question softly, his eyes flickering between you and Seungcheol. “Help me understand better.” 
“Her,” Seungcheol answers. “Whatever you want.” He pauses and smirks, adding, “You’re not ready for me. So just her… for now, if you want.”
Multiple emotions flit past Chan’s face. Confusion. Fear. Indecision. Anxiety. Desire. 
You see the desire there, the way he settles his eyes on you, dark and swimming with want. He doesn’t move, the silence filling the room as Seungcheol let’s Chan choose. You feel your own desire welling up inside of you, a shy and skittish thing that is perhaps too breakable to be offering this way. 
Chan is your mirror. You can see yourself in him, the want that lurks beneath a shallow surface, a fragile thing that he wants to handle but is too afraid that it’ll shatter. You lift a hand from your lap, reaching forward, palm up. Reaching for Chan, reaching for the thread that connected you since the first day he started. 
Your hand wavers there for a second, an invitation, a moment of vulnerability. Just when you think he’s going to reject you, Chan surges forward slowly, extending his hand toward yours. A smile lights up your face, growing even wider when his fingers tentatively skate over yours, rough and unsure. 
Tugging on him gently, you urge Chan from the armchair toward the couch. He’s like a frightened animal, eyes darting toward Seungcheol like he might intervene when he sits next to you, close enough to smell his juniper cologne but farther than you want him to be. 
Seungcheol lets go of your shoulder, walking around the opposite side of the couch. Chan looks at Seungcheol, alarm on his face. The elder chuckles roughly, sitting on your other side a little ways away and murmuring, “Relax, Channie. I’m just sitting down.” 
To further ease his anxiety, you pull Chan’s hand into your lap, lacing your fingers and squeezing. He looks at your linked fingers, marveling at them. It takes him a moment, but he squeezes your hand in return. 
“Can you look at me?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. 
He does. Chan finally looks at you, gaze raw and burning. Your toes curl when you see the amount of want there, the way his need is right on the surface, simmering. His eyes trace your features, scanning your face to the curve of your neck, dipping lower, lips parted as he drinks you in full. 
“What… What now?” He asks, dragging his eyes back up to yours. 
“Try kissing her.” Seungcheol leans back behind you, supervising. His voice is gentle and coaxing. “She likes kissing.” 
Chan looks at you, asking for permission. You smile, nodding eagerly as you tug on his hand. He obeys, sliding closer to you, thigh pressed against yours. Even through the fabric of his pants, you can feel the heat of his leg wash through you, intoxicating. 
He leans in slowly, his eyes darting toward your mouth as he does. You meet him halfway, breath shaking as you softly press your lips against his. His lips are soft and tentative, nose brushing yours gently. You sigh, leaning into the kiss, making it a little firmer. 
It’s innocent, but you feel the way his fingers tighten in yours, a gentle sound stuck in the back of his throat. You pull away slightly, lashes fluttering open to peer at him. You see your half-lidded eyes in the reflection of his glasses until he opens his eyes.
The urge to have him grows tenfold. Chan’s pupils are blown, the hungry look in his eye raw and real. It makes you surge forward, kissing him for real, letting the hunger for him channel through your mouth. He makes a sound low in the back of his throat, desperate and whiny as you school closer, leg looping over his to keep him in place. 
Letting go of his hand, you bring it up to his face, threading your fingers through his hair. His mouth is warm and wet as he kisses you slowly, tasting of champagne and the frosting of the cupcake he had earlier - sweet, just like him. 
Kissing Chan is unlike kissing Seungcheol. Chan is sweet and slow, running his tongue against the seam of your mouth tentatively while his hands go to your thighs, barely giving you a squeeze. Seungcheol’s kisses are demanding and all consuming, bruising your lips as he swallows you whole. 
Parting, Chan kisses the corner of your mouth, hesitating and glancing over your shoulder where he can no doubt see Seungcheol. Seungcheol must reassure him, because Chan smirks and leans forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your jaw. 
Your head falls back, lips parted. His tongue is rough against your skin as he tastes you, a mix of tongue and teeth working toward your neck. Your fingers twist in his hair, blunt nails scraping at his scalp and making him groan quietly. 
“She likes when you bite her a little,” Seungcheol supplies from behind you. You feel the couch shift as he moves closer, his warmth radiating toward you as he settles directly behind you. His voice makes you shiver when he says, “Right under her ear - yeah like that.” 
Chan’s teeth nip at the soft flesh under your ear and you keen, melting at his touch. He grows more confident at the sound, his hands drifting to your waist, squeezing and holding you tight. You lean backward into the heat of Seungcheol, trapped between the two of them. 
It makes you dizzy. Seungcheol is firm behind you, keeping you pressed toward Chan, who is kissing his way to your shoulder, eager for more of you. One of his hands runs up your side, sliding up your arm until it settles on the side of your neck, his fingers gently pulling you to give more access. 
You keen and Seungcheol laughs behind you, muttering, “Hear the little sounds she makes? She loves when you touch her neck.” 
“Mmmm.” Chan presses kisses to the tops of your shoulders, looking up at you through his glasses. “What else does she like?” 
“If you want to see her come apart, eat her out.” Chan moans, burying his face in your neck. You shiver, feeling his hot breath against your spit-slick skin. “Yeah?” Seungcheol laughs. “Dying to taste her, huh?” 
“Fuck,” Chan whispers. He lifts his head from your neck, breathing ragged as he looks at you, cradling your face in his hands. 
You look up at him through your lashes, dazed. He looks so good in the dim light of Seungcheol’s office, his hair a little disheveled, glasses a little eskew. 
“Do you want that?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushes back and forth across your jaw, pausing to brush along the corner of your lip. You nod eagerly, unable to find the words and tell him that is exactly what you want. “Fuck. Yeah. Okay.” 
Chan sinks to the ground. Seungcheol plants his foot against the coffee table, pushing it back slowly to give Chan room. The younger looks up at you reverently and you feel your breath catch, watching as Chan settles on his knees, hands reaching to brush gently up your calves.
His touch is like fire. It feels too hot in Seungcheol’s office, sweat collecting on the back of your neck and along your hairline. You squeeze your thighs together at Chan’s gentle touch and he grins up at you, keeping his fingers feather light and teasing as he skims them up your thighs toward your dress. 
Seungcheol leans you against him, pressing his lips to the side of your temple. Chan leans forward, placing an open mouth kiss on your knee. You twitch, knee nearly knocking him in the face. Seungcheol admonishes you softly, reaching down to pry your right leg open and drape it over his, resting his arm over your knee to keep you pried open.
Chan’s hands continue to caress your skin, the drag of his fingers driving you wild. You stare down at him, panting slightly as he looks up at you. He maintains eye contact as he drags his mouth to kiss your inner thigh, watching as you react with a sigh. 
He moves his mouth upward slowly, each kiss firm but gentle, his lips blazing a trail upward. You feel your core ache for him, a hot, throbbing need that makes you whine a little bit, shifting in Seungcheol’s grip. 
Chan pauses but Seungcheol promises, “She’s fine. She’s very needy.” 
A grin splits Chan’s face as he presses another kiss to the softness of your thigh, followed by biting gently. That gets a reaction out of you, your hips twitching upward and your hands shooting to grip the couch with one hand and Seungcheol’s forearm with the other. 
“She loves when you start slow,” Seungcheol murmurs. Chan nods, taking his elder’s guidance in step. His hands creep toward the hem of your dress, hesitating. “Go ahead.” 
Your breath gets stuck in your throat when Chan pushes the hem of your dress upward. The newly exposed skin feels cold in Seungcheol’s darkened office. Chan bunches the fabric at your hips and Seungcheol reaches around the back of your waist to hold it in place. 
With one hand on your spread knee and the other locked around your waist, Seungcheol has you pinned. The thought makes your eyes flutter, head tilting back as you watch Chan drink you in, his eyes dropping to the lacy underwear.
His mouth resumes its curious travel, kissing the tops of your thighs as his fingers brush the edges of your underwear. You let out a breathy whine and he smiles but doesn’t stop this time, teasing the crease of your thighs with his devilish finger while he gives a harsh suck to your skin. 
Chan rests his chin atop your thigh, eyes focusing on the wet patch of your under. He dips a hand between your legs, pressing the flat of his thumb against the dark spot on the fabric. You give a high pitched whine, fidgeting in Seungcheol’s grip. Chan grins, wiggling his thumb back and forth a little to apply pressure to your clit.
It is heaven. It is hell. Chan’s eyes drift back and forth from where he teases you to your face, unable to decide which he likes watching more. Seungcheol watches him with a smirk, his hold on you like iron, hot breath fanning your ear as he whispers for you to behave for Chan. 
You want to. You want to more than anything else right now, completely forgetting about the party going on outside the office, forgetting the way you’d been afraid to ask Chan if he wants this, forgetting anything else but the look in Chan’s eyes as he hooks his fingers in your underwear and pulls them down.
Lacy fabric scrapes down your skin slow-soft. It is delicious torture. Chan handles you like you’re something precious, something to be loved and treated with care. Your thoughts turn to static, totally hypnotized by the way he peels your underwear from your legs and tosses them somewhere else. His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your glistening cunt, groaning low in the back of his throat at what he sees. 
Chan slides his hands under your thighs, dragging you toward him a little. Seungcheol helps, peppering your face with butterfly-soft kisses as he slides you down the couch. You’re nearly folded in half as Seungcheol adjusts himself so that he’s sitting behind you with you between his legs. He grabs your thighs, hooking them on the outer edges of his knees to keep you open for Chan, who slides closer, licking his lips. 
“Look how wet she is for you,” Seungcheol purrs. You glance up at him. His dark eyes are focused on Chan, mouth twitching in a smirk. “Start slow. She likes you to build up to it.” 
Chan glances at Seungcheol and nods before his eyes fall to you. Dark. Hungry. Wanting. To see your deepest desire reflected in Chan’s eyes makes you insane. You’d only guessed at his affection for you and Seungcheol, but the fierceness of it drives you wild. 
So does his mouth. Chan drags his mouth up your thighs, kissing delicately. You hold your breath, fixated on him as he audibly plants another kiss before he moves to your center, hesitating. You try not to squirm and move closer, try not to force yourself on his mouth.
He can tell. He gives you a cock grin, letting out a huff before dipping forward, running his tongue up your center and oh oh oh. Your head falls back against Seungcheol’s shoulder, breath locked in your chest. Chan’s tongue is warm and wet, sliding up and down your pussy at a leisurely pace.
Then he moans. Your fingers dig into Seungcheol’s thighs, making him hiss. He hooks his chin on your shoulder, watching as Chan’s tongue circles your aching clit slowly before dipping back down. 
You’re burning, melting, disintegrating. Pleasure ripples through you when Chan dips his tongue tentatively into your clenching hole. That earns a loud moan from you. Seungcheol quickly hushes you, reminding you that you can’t be loud with a harsh whisper. 
A whimper falls from your lips. Chan grunts, closing his eyes as he fastens his mouth to your cunt, suckling gently. You throb under his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes misty as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit. 
“Like that,” Seungcheol encourages when you thrash. “She likes it kind of messy too - spit on it.” 
Chan is obedient. He dips his tongue into your cunt, gathering arousal before he lifts his mouth, smeared in your slick, and spits directly on your pussy. You let out a loud sound that is cut off by Seungcheol’s mouth on yours, stealing you in a devouring kiss. 
One hand shoots to Seungcheol’s forearm to cling to him, the other to Chan’s hair when he reattaches his mouth. He moans audibly against you, the sound buzzing right through you to the pit of your stomach. He redoubles his effort, licking and sucking at you vigorously now to match the pace of Seungcheol’s tongue. 
They both swallow you whole. It’s overwhelming the best way, Seungcheol pressing you into his chest as he steals the breath from your lungs, Chan pressing your legs further apart as he buries his face between your legs, little sounds of pleasure dripping from his mouth as he loses himself in you. 
Seungcheol parts with you for a moment, lips swollen and pink as he looks down at Chan and grins. He reaches down, running his fingers through Chan’s hair gently, making the younger groan. 
“Look at him,” Seungcheol coos. “He’s been dying to taste you, huh Chan?” 
“Mhmm.” Chan licks a hard stripe from top to bottom. “So fucking good.”
“Tell him how good he’s doing baby,” Seungcheol whispers, pressing his mouth to your ear. “He’s working so hard for you.” 
“Feels so good,” you gasp as Chan sucks your clit hard. You thrash in Seungcheol’s lap but he holds you still. Chan pins you down too, fingers gripping your thighs as he gets greedier, flattening his tongue and whipping his head back and forth. “Fuck fuck fuck - Chan.” 
“Just like that, Chan.” Seungcheol keeps running his fingers through Chan’s hair affectionately. “She’s gonna come for you, right baby?” 
All you can manage is a nod. You’re beyond the capacity for words, feeling your orgasm twist low in your stomach as Chan works your toward its peak. It feels like he drags you there screaming, the pressure building as he keeps going and going and going-
You break. Seungcheol’s hand clamps over your mouth and you cry through his palm, hips twitching and legs straining against both of their hands as you cum hard. Chan doesn’t care, pressing even further, drinking you in as your clit pulses in his mouth. 
When you quiet down, Seungcheol lets go of your mouth, hushing you with soft kisses as you whimper. Chan’s tongue busies itself as he leisurely licks your thighs, catching stray drops of arousal. You sag against your boyfriend, panting. He rubs his hands up and down your aching thighs. 
“More,” Chan murmurs, words a little slurred as he presses a sloppy kiss to your thigh. He inches closer to your messy folds, hesitating. “Can you take more? Please tell me you can.”
You nod and Seungcheol hums, pleased. “She can.” 
Looking between your legs, you watch as Chan grabs his glasses and rips them off his face, tossing them somewhere behind him. Your stomach flips at the site, lips parted and gasping when he dives back in, fucking you with his tongue. 
“Shit,” you squeak, hands flying to his hair, wrapping your fingers in his locks and twisting. He doesn’t mind the sting, too focused on you. “Oh my god.”
Seungcheol chuckles darkly. “Fuck, he’s hot. Use your fingers, Channie.” 
Nodding eagerly, Chan complies. He’s eager to comply, bringing a hand up between your legs. You hiss when he slides a finger in, the glide easy from your first orgasm. He removes his mouth from you, panting and lips swollen as his eyes focus on where he gently fucks you with his finger. 
“Another,” Seungcheol recommends. 
Chan does. He slides another finger in, tilting his wrist so that they brush just right. You moan his name, throaty and worn. Chan hums happily, kissing his way back up to your clit where he wraps his lips, sucking gently as he sets a slow pace with his fingers. 
It only lasts for a few moments before his pace increases, feeling the way you squeeze tight around him, hearing the way your breath turns shaky and uneven, watching the way you continue to grow slick with sweat. 
He fixates on your face, sucking at you hungrily in time with his fingers, driving you toward another release. Seungcheol’s mouth finds your jaw, teeth nipping and tongue soothing. Again you’re pulled between the two of them, feeling stretched thin and overwhelmed by their mouths.
“I’m gonna,” You gasp, shaking in their grip. They both can tell. Seungcheol bites your neck a little harder, sucking the soft skin between his teeth. Chan turns ravenous, nearly folding you in half as he pushes into you, the wet sounds from his mouth bracketed by your heavy breathing. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
Every muscle in your body squeezes with the force of your orgasm. You can’t breathe, stars exploding behind squeezed-shut lids, breath stuck in squeezed-tight lungs. You’re barely able to hear Seungcheol murmuring in your ear, only able to hear the high-pitched ringing as you hit the top of your high, suspended for a moment before you start to come down.
You go boneless against Seungcheol. You feel spent, sucking in breaths of air while Seungcheol rubs his hands up and down your arms and Chan presses butterfly-soft kisses to your inner thighs, his hands rubbing your calves. 
The three of you stay there like that for a bit, quiet in the dark of Seungcheol’s office with the distant singing of your coworkers. You feel a bit floaty and dreamy, stuck somewhere between nearly asleep and happily present. 
Chan shifts and you drop your eyes to him, seeing him looking around, a little unsure what to do. You and Seungcheol notice at the same time, both of you extending a hand to him. Chan’s smile is shy and tentative, taking both of your hands and letting you pull him to his feet to collapse on the couch next to you.
Immediately you squirm toward him, half falling out of Seungcheol’s lap to fall against Chan’s shoulder. He laughs, lifting his arms and hesitating for a second before he wraps them around you. His lips are pink and swollen, still covered in your arousal. 
“That,” you sigh. “Was better than I imagined.”
“You imagined it, though?” he asks, glancing at Seungcheol. “Both of you?”
“Mhmm.” Seungcheol leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of Chan’s mouth, pink tongue darting out playfully. “Mmm. She tastes good.” 
Pink creeps up Chan’s neck and flushes his face. Seungcheol grins and you can tell he’s just as smitten as you, leaning his head against the back of the couch to watch Chan settle down. He drags his fingers in patterns on your arm, eyes losing focus. 
“Was this just for tonight?” Chan asks. There’s a note in his voice that makes you look up at him. You can tell he’s unsure, a little nervous. “Just for giving season or whatever?” 
Your voice is raspy with disuse. “Not if you don’t want it to be. Cheolie and I like you.” 
“Really?”
You lift a hand, brushing strands of hair back into his damp hairline. “Mhm. We want to keep you, if you’ll have us.” 
Chan chews on his bottom lip, contemplating. Seungcheol watches in silence, but you can tell by the way his fingers drum on your thigh that he’s nervous. He might exude calm and confident most of the time, but you know he hopes Chan will say yes - that he’s desperate for it. 
“I think I like that,” Chan says slowly, looking at you both. “I would like that, yeah.” 
Seungcheol grins, closing his eyes as he reaches over and runs a hand through Chan’s hair. “Good. Also - it’s always giving season at our house. So buckle up, Channie.” 
-
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harmonic-intervention · 1 day ago
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You're killing me with chemistry - Chapter 1
Buck knows he's bi. He knows what he wants. And what he wants, right now, is Tommy. Maybe his hand in marriage, because he's getting desperate. Because, despite all of his attempts, and all of the positive responses from Tommy, for some reason, Tommy just ... doesn't act on anything.
Tommy knows Evan is straight. He asked both Howie and Hen about it, and he trusts their word on it. It doesn't stop Evan from pulling him in, and making him fall head over heels for him anyway. Tommy knows better than to fall for a straight guy, he does, but ... he can't change it.
Everything would be easier if they just talked to each other, but where's the fun in that?
A little story based off on this post by @disaster-j and I hope I did your idea justice.
This story will have three chapters, the rest of which will be coming out in the following days. Rating and tags will change as we go.
Word count: 13,556 - canon divergence, bi disaster!buck & oblivious!tommy, sexual tension
Excerpt:
Buck was in hell.
You’d think that finding out he was bisexual would make things- easier? Clearer? The world was his oyster or whatever.
Okay, fine, the clarity of finally realizing what he was feeling for men was nice, freeing. Looking back on things, so many of them suddenly made sense – namely following Connor to LA from Peru. And a couple of other things. It brought him perspective.
He’d tried for a couple of relationships with men, but they fizzled out like his thing with Natalia had just before. Finding the right partner who matched him wasn’t easier with men, it seemed.
Whoever said that as a bisexual man, he’d have twice as many options – Eddie – was a liar and also naïve. It only got worse.
Until the night Bobby and Athena decided to re-enact Titanic in the most dramatic way possible. Buck did feel kind of bad about connecting so much joy with that night, but hey, nobody could blame him!
Not when Chimney introduced him to the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life.
Buck saw him, and he thought that he couldn’t be real. Men like Tommy Kinard didn’t exist. He was tall, broad, had a kind smile and pretty eyes, looked like the textbook definition of handsome, had large and strong hands – Buck almost lost his breath when he shook his hand – he was a firefighter and a pilot, and he was also batshit insane, it seemed. At least enough to fly them into a hurricane.
Buck heard his voice, and he knew immediately that he needed to hear him say his name. He felt like his insides melted when Tommy said, “Nice to meet you, Evan,” with a soft smile, his words so genuine that Buck felt something rearrange inside of him.
What the hell was Buck supposed to do? Not fall ass over teakettle for the guy? Okay, they barely talked that night, and the words they exchanged were tense. But Buck got to watch Tommy work, got to watch him confidently stride across the hangar and bullshit his way into getting them off the ground, got to watch him guide them through a storm with steady hands.
And then he got to watch him and hear him make fake mouth static at the fire chief, and Buck was gone. Men like Tommy weren’t real, but here he was, right in front of Buck.
[continue on ao3]
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mymoshangthoughts · 2 days ago
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okay, okay, okay, bear with me
mobei jun already knows about shang qinghua as airplane
oki ive decided to take advantage of the fact that WE NEVER GET A MOBEI JUN POV AND I'LL BE FORVER SALTY ABOUT THAT SHIT
but like, shen yuan figured airplane out REAL fast, right? they barely spent time together before the immortal alliance and then it takes one surprise before airplane is saying stupid shit, right?
and i cant help but think, mobei jun aint dumb and he's been spending How Many Years crashing at shang qinghua's leisure house whenever the fuck he feels like it?
he also finds shang qinghua to be Hella Sus because come on, ofc he does. a human just declares their undying loyalty to you after one fucking meeting??? even if he believes shang qinghua is being sincere in the moment, the fact that he was so quick to betray his sect doesnt speak of a loyal servant
so why wouldnt he snoop? why wouldnt he pay extra close attention when shang qinghua says shit that doesnt make sense? why wouldnt he notice when shang qinghua speaks or writes in a language that he doesnt recognize? airplane canonically isnt fluent in english so if he used a bit of it, especially chinglish, wouldnt mobei jun be able to learn some of the meanings of the words just by context clues? especially when he has YEARS to decode it? like if airplane was fluent, maybe he could hide the meaning, but a limited vocabulary adapted to another language isnt actually super hard to decode. it's the same reason that you can generally understand what slang means before you look up the definition. you might not know what 'rizz' means, but you can pick up the meaning from context clues.
anyway im over explaining the linguistic aspects ALL IM SAYING IS what if airplane kinda depends heavily on chinglish to be his Secret Language that Theres No Way That Anyone Here Can Get. and sure, for most people, it does seem like gibberish. but again, mobei jun has YEARS at his side and reasons to nitpick at it and decode it.
like what if airplane had a habit of writing out pidw plot points in chinglish bc look he is Going to forget shit no matter what, he wrote that novel a lifetime ago, but theres some info thats pretty important for him to Not Forget. so mobei jun is just left with a huge stash of Impossible Information that shang qinghua writes about
everything ranging from future events to obscure demon world facts that theres just no justifiable reason for shang qinghua to know about and just everything in between.
but also what if shang qinghua wrote his feelings? his thoughts? his issues? like cmon, he literally has NO ONE to consult with about the insanity of his life before cucumber-bro, and his life is really crazy, and he used to be the person who wrote out his feelings via novel but look dude he's not about to tempt fate by writing out another novel rn so a diary makes sense. or at least like, random venting
and again, this isnt even mentioning airplane having some potential verbal fuckups that mobei jun can add to his ever growing file of "shang qinghua has something fucking going on"
and like, maybe mobei jun hasnt actually figured out the exact truth but he has some eerily close guesses. or maybe airplane wrote a lengthy journal explaining literally his entire fucked up life and mobei jun knows Everything.
look im just a little bit obsessed with mobei jun casually being aware for YEARS that shang qinghua is from another world and might have once had god-like powers over this world. i think this is very funny and i think it could work in a canon compliant way. cuz i also like to think that some of mobei jun's aggro at shang qinghua was a mixture of
you literally wont tell me who you really are. you claim to be my loyal subject but you wont even tell me your real name and Yes I'm Upset About That
you fucking fucker, you literally PLANNED that horrible event to happen???? you suck so bad omfg. THAT WAS TRAUMATIZING FOR ME YOU JERK NO I DONT CARE IF YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT IT NOW
your handwriting sucks and im mad that i didnt just have to decode your weird other language, i also had to decode your fucking horrendous handwriting and i dont know if i can ever forgive you for that
you barely ever show your real personality in front of me and i have to learn how you really feel by reading this fucking notes and YES IM UPSET ABOUT THAT
i also just love the idea of Something Happening to do with the multiverse and basically mobei jun is the only one who isnt remotely surprised lmfao. binghe is in crisis mode, cucumber thinks he's gonna die, airplane is freaked out, and mobei jun is just like "yeah, figured some dumb shit like this might happen. you didnt know binghe? dont you pay any attention to your husband :/ dude, they're not even good at hiding it, i thought you were supposed to be smart"
also the simultaneous heartattacks that cucumber and airplane would have that mobei jun just KNOWS like thats hilarious. imagine they need to talk about something secretly in public and its super urgent and mobei jun just starts using chinglish or webspeak or something perfectly and cumplane are FREAKING THE FUCK OUT
mobei jun: that mofo is hella sus, but keep it on the dl. ttyl i need to do a vibe check
cumplane: ?!?!?!?!?!?
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championofthefade · 1 day ago
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Warning!! This post may contain spoilers for those who haven't played Veilguard yet! This turned out a lot longer than I thought, but I'm discussing the theory that Rook is a spirit.
I know that there are issues with the writing and any theory is not created to make those issues get swept under the rug. This theory is meant to be fun, and I would like to talk about it.
I'm thinking about the "Rook is a spirit" theory I saw on twitter/x. This theory often rotates in my head often, and I think that it's so interesting.
Like, listen. I understand that narratively it would be complicated to insert into what we know is Dragon Age Veilguard. Someone brought up the fact that it would be a strange thing because wouldn't Emmrich know that Rook is a spirit the way that he knows Lucanis has Spite?
But the theory that cadhalash paints for us is the fact that Varric was for Rook what the Rook is for the companions.
"Help them with their personal problems and talk to them about their feelings, but never ask Rook how they're doing. Or if they need anything. In codex memos we learn the companions have potlucks and book clubs but Rook is not invited. We learn at the end that Varric wasn't really there... What if Rook wasn't either? There's tons of chat about this idea now with other examples of Rook being compared to a spirit in the game. Very interesting and fun!" -cadhalash
There could be the very huge chance that Emmrich would recognize Rook as a spirit, but what about a spirit made flesh?
Think about Cole's banter with Blackwall, for example:
Blackwall: How does a spirit become flesh anyway?
Cole: I don't know. How does a Warden become Grey?
It may seem like a reach, but to me, it makes sense. Cole chose to become human because that was the shape that would help, which he says in a banter with Varric.
Varric: So, Kid, why human?
Cole: It was the shape that would help.
Varric: Huh. Most people don't pick a shape. I guess I was hoping for something deeper with that question.
Cole: It had to be him. But harmless. The him he wanted that wouldn't hurt.
Varric: Well that's... deeper. I think.
You may be thinking, "Hey, Atlas. That might be a little reaching, don't you think?"
Well, yes. Applauding the people that caught onto Solas in the Dragon Age Fandom years and years ago now because you all were on the nose about him being a worm (spirit). But considering what we know from Dragon Age as a whole, it could be possible that Rook is too a spirit of a different kind.
We know that Emmrich can sense Spite. We know that Emmrich can talk directly to Spite. But what if Rook was more like Cole? Would Emmrich's ability to speak to spirits or sense them so close apply?
I would say, that depends on the type of Spirit that Rook would be, right? This has a lot of wiggle room for what you think your Rook would be as a spirit?
From the Wiki:
Spirits lack imagination and creativity; everything they make is based off something made by mortals. Whether benevolent or malevolent, most spirits cannot help but mine a Fade visitor's mind for their thoughts and memories. They then mimic the pieces of life they see by shaping the Fade into various realms that cater to the unconscious desires of the living, providing experiences to the sleeping that become their "dreams."
And the Spirits listed:
Command, Compassion (Cole), Courage, Curiosity (Manfred), Duty, Faith (Wynne), Honor, Hope, Justice(Anders), Learning, Love, Perseverance, Purpose, Valor, Wisdom (Solas).
(We know from Veilguard that Spite is referred to as a spirit of Determination/ mentioned in a data mine, Passion.)
For the sake of the theory, let's say that Emmrich would get an inkling. A prickling feeling even that he knows that there's a spirit near by and would chalk it up to being Manfred because he would know that, right? But then there's Spite. How big of an energy read does Emmrich get from Lucanis to immediately go, 'Yeah, you've got a tag along and I'm sorry it wasn't a willing possession'.
So, how would it get unnoticed by Emmrich, the resident Fade Expert?
Well... Reading further down said wiki page, we find this:
As Rhys puts it in a dialogue with Cole, "being important makes you real". (Asundered reference, I believe?)
Being important makes you real. Rook becomes the 'leader' when Varric gets hurt at the beginning of the game. For the entirety of the game, as Rook, you have to build a team to fight ancient elvhen gods. Rook has to be what Varric was, pulling people that Solas didn't know into trying to save the world from going to shit.
Rook was given a purpose. To save the world.
Regardless of how Rook is perceived, they are in charge. They are in a position that they didn't want, probably was expecting to go home after dealing with this Dread Wolf that they were recruited to stop, and now... They're given a role that would make them important. And as before being important makes you real.
Could Rook be something akin to Cole rather something like Spite or other spirits that we know in Veilguard?
Here's another thing: Solas.
Yes, we are talking about the egg. I'll try to keep this as coherent as possible. We know that Solas didn't want to come from the Fade to be a human (another discussion for another time). We learn that Solas was a spirit of Wisdom, whose Wisdom was twisted into a weapon and forced to do things that stripped Solas of what he wanted to keep for himself. To remain as Wisdom.
This makes it interesting if we add to the fact that Rook could choose to outsmart Solas. Because at that pivotal moment, Solas was Pride. On his pride, it was always the sword he would fall on.
Say what you will about the trick ending, but this is something that shouldn't be glossed over. Being outsmarted by Rook, Solas says, "I am a fool... Who has met his match."
Met his match. This also might be another case of reaching, but it's interesting phrasing from someone who tells clever half-truths and never quite lies. Being tricked by Rook out of pure wits alone. Something that he thought he succeeded in.
What does this have to do with spirits?
Solas, who was brought out of the Fade to take a body to join the elves in a fight against the Titans. Solas, who crafted the lyrium dagger to sunder the Titans from their dreams in hopes of stopping the war. Solas, who created the blight from the Titans' severed dreams. Solas, who started a rebellion against the ancient elvhen gods who abused their power.
Rook, who was brought onto a job to stop the Dread Wolf. Rook, who disrupted the ritual in hopes of stopping Solas. Rook, who started a double blight from freeing these ancient elvhen gods. Rook, who has to build a team to stop these ancient elven gods.
I would say, in spirit, Rook is a mirror of Solas. I'm not saying Rook is wise like Solas or anything like that. But there is something about Rook being Solas' mirror that could fold into Rook being a Spirit of Reflection.
This is just something that comes to mind. Rooks helps Taash discover their identity, helps Emmrich deal with his fear of mortality, helps Neve protect Dock Town, helps Bellara with Cyrian, helps Harding with the Titans, helps Davrin with the griffons, and helps Lucanis with Spite. (Generalized, all choice dependent.) These are reflections of the companions. These are reflections of the people that Rook had brought together to save the world.
It could easily be written off because we're not entirely sure how many spirits there are, but I digress.
Of course, that too would beg the question of how it would apply to all Rooks from all backgrounds?
Let's take a look at the ones that make me think.
Shadow Dragon Rook
The foundling Rook was adopted into a military family and joined the Shadow Dragons to fight from the shadows for change in Minrathous.
We learn in a dialogue with Tarquin that a Shadow Dragon Rook was found on a battlefield by the Mercar family.
Now with this little bit of dialogue, it makes me (personally) think back to what Solas says about him walking the Fade and seeing ancient battlefields where spirits reenact wars from the other side of the Veil. There could have been spirits that were there during this battle where SD Rook was found. (It also kinda reminds me of Loki being found by Odin and raised in Asgard. Don't come for me, I've only watched the movies.)
For the sake of theory, say that a spirit that would have looked over a SD Rook before they were found by the Mercars. Thinking about it, it reminds me of how Cole (the mage) was watched over by Compassion and then Compassion took a shape that would help.
A spirit (in Spite's case) can be drawn to a person, yes? As Determination, we know that Spite was drawn to Lucanis' determination to live or something of the like. (I will live to spite you, essentially.)
Mourn Watch Rook
Discovered by undead inside a Grand Necropolis tomb as an infant, Rook was raised by Mourn Watch necromancers, eventually joining the order.
Relating back to the Muttering Undead that is in a coffin on the path from Emmrich's recruitment:
Stumbling… The steps. Skeletons saw… Oh no choice. Had to be brave… Had to be brave… Too late to cry… Save the (girl, boy, baby) with the grave.
This is a little more open ended. We know nothing about Ingellvar beyond that. We don't know where they came from, only that they were found inside a tomb. It makes me scratch my head.
We know that it's a custom in Nevarra that a spirit could reanimate a skeleton, essentially, and bring some part of their consciousness from back across the Veil. We see that Manfred, when you choose to bring him back, is brought back from across the Veil and returns with magic.
Sure, it's not the same thing as building a body out of Titan's blood, but the idea that the spirits that became the Evanuris are the best of the physical and the Fade offers up to the idea that they were going to have magic anyway when they crossed the Veil. Only lyrium gave them more power than I think that they knew what to do with.
I make this point from the perspective that Mourn Watchers are typically necromancers. They are almost always close to places where the Veil is thin enough for a spirit to come across and possessing a body in a sense.
When it comes to the Muttering Undead, I don't know who that could have been or what they were doing in the Necropolis. But it's clear that they were determined to save Mourn Watch Rook, and they were the one that put Rook in the tomb.
This one makes me scratch my head because it's so broad and vague. For the theory that Rook is a spirit, this is the origin/background/faction that lends itself to the idea because in Nevarra they revere and respect their dead with the ability to raise the corpses to continue contributing to the Grand Necropolis. But we're talking about a wee baby Rook growing up in the Necropolis. Could it be possible that the saving of Rook is more spirit in a tomb?
The last things I would like to touch on.
Dialogue with Harding (her romance I believe?) :
Harding: I've seen spirits leave the Fade and become real people. (COLE!!!)
Rook: You think I could be a spirit in disguise?
Harding: It isn't malicous. They're just drawn to strong emotion. And then...one day, real people.
Rook: I think I'm really me, and I'm really here.
This is why I mentioned Cole earlier.
And the absence of Rook in the Veilguard mural is brought up in the theory as well. Rook's absence on the mural strikes me as odd. Because yes, the companions would be a main focus in the stories that would follow them. But what about Rook, the person who brought these vastly different people together and saved the world? Not there. Were they ever there?
Much to think about.
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anamina0 · 1 day ago
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Echoes
Part I , Part II , Part III , Part IV, Part V ,Part VI
Warning/themes : slight smut, eating out , submissive Vi? fluff, mentions of death, breakup, a lot of angst
Word count : 5.2k
The sunlight peeked through the windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Soft beams of light brushed against your eyelids, urging you to wake, though the true warmth came from the arm draped around your waist. Vi’s arm. Her touch radiated a soothing heat that sent shivers up your spine, a perfect contradiction—toughness softened by care. You stirred slightly, careful not to disturb her as you let yourself savor the moment. Slowly turning to face her, your gaze fell on her features. Relaxed, unguarded. Her usually sharp eyes were hidden behind thick lashes, her expression softened by sleep. She was stunning like this—her wild strength quieted in a way only you got to see. A tender smile tugged at your lips as flashes of last night filled your mind. It had been perfect, raw, and real. It had reminded you what safety felt like in another person’s arms. And yet, beneath that warmth, there was the weight of your secret. Was it selfish to want to stay? To hold onto this joy you’d found? Maybe. But after everything, didn’t you deserve this? The guilt crept back in anyway. You knew the clock was ticking. You’d either have to tell her the truth… or walk away before the truth could destroy her. Lost in thought, your fingers brushed gently over her cheek, tracing her jawline. She stirred at your touch, shifting closer, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her lashes fluttered, and when her eyes opened, the sight of you brought a smile to her face.
“Morning, stranger,” you teased softly, the words almost catching in your throat as her sleepy gaze pulled you in.
“Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky and warm, making your heart stutter. She tightened her hold on you, pulling you closer, skin against skin.
You felt a rush of heat as your bare body pressed against hers, every inch of her setting you alight in ways that should’ve been illegal. Still, you fought to keep your head clear, though it wasn’t easy when Vi was looking at you like that—like you were the only thing in the world.
“How’d you sleep?” you asked, your voice soft but unsteady.
Her grin was lazy as she tilted her head into the pillow, never taking her eyes off you. “Like a rock. Haven’t felt this peaceful in… forever.” She wasn’t shy about her feelings, and that honesty made something ache in you.
You swallowed the lump rising in your throat. “Yeah. Me too,” you whispered.
Her lips curved slightly as you leaned closer, pressing your nose to hers in a playful touch. She chuckled quietly, her fingers brushing along your spine. This was everything, you thought, in that moment.
No. You couldn’t lose this. You wouldn’t. You’d figure out what to do about your secret later. But for now, you pressed another kiss to her lips and let yourself sink deeper into this fragile happiness, as if it could last forever.
The words slipped out before you could stop them. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, the sound barely cutting through the gentle rush of the shower’s water. You hesitated, searching for the right way to explain yourself. “For earlier... I didn’t mean to shut you out.”
Vi’s hands, which had been tracing lazy patterns on your hips, stilled. She tilted her head, her eyes searching your face as if to make sense of what you were saying. You felt the heat of her gaze even through the cascade of water dripping down your skin.
“I just... I didn’t know how to bring you into it,” you continued, swallowing hard. “I needed to handle it on my own. I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you, or worse, that I didn’t want you.” Your voice cracked on the last part, the vulnerability in your words catching up to you. You looked up into her eyes, feeling that all-too-familiar lump rise in your throat. “The truth is...” Your fingers brushed against her face, sweeping wet strands of pink hair away from her eyes. “Every second I spent without you, you were all I could think about. All I wanted was to be here—with you.”
Her expression softened, the tension in her shoulders melting away like ice thawing under the sun. She let out a soft exhale, like she had been holding her breath without realizing it.
“I understand,” she finally said, her voice low but steady. “Sometimes, you gotta chase your own monsters. But,” she added, her tone firmer now, “if we’re doing this, I need you to know you don’t have to fight them alone. You have me now. You’re not alone anymore.”
She pressed a kiss to your forehead, warm and grounding. The gesture made your chest ache, equal parts love and guilt.
“I know,” you whispered. “I'll tell you once I sort things out. I promise.” The words spilled from your lips, a promise that felt like both a lifeline and a noose.
Vi studied you for a moment longer, as if gauging whether or not to believe you. Then, her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Good,” she murmured, brushing her nose against yours before planting a soft kiss on your lips. Then she stepped back slightly, her hands trailing over your waist. “I’m starving,” she said with a playful grin, her teeth grazing her bottom lip as she looked at you.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Shower first,” you countered, grabbing the edge of the blanket you had draped around you. Before you could fully wrap yourself, Vi’s hand shot out, tugging the fabric loose. Her grin widened as she let her eyes roam over your bare body without shame.
“You don’t need that in the shower,” she teased, her voice dropping slightly.
“Asshole,” you muttered, turning your back to her, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. You felt her gaze linger on you, heavy and unyielding as you stepped into the shower.
The water was hot, almost scalding, but the sensation was drowned out the moment Vi slipped in behind you. Her body pressed firmly against yours, her hands finding your waist again as her lips began trailing soft kisses along the curve of your neck.
“Vi,” you whispered, your voice shaky but steady enough to be a warning.
She hummed against your skin, her grip tightening as she murmured, “Just let me.”
You reached for the soap, a playful smirk curving your lips. “Let me help,” you said, turning around to face her.
Her lips quirked up, but she didn’t argue, placing her hands on the wall of the shower and letting you take the lead. You ran the soap along her shoulders first, marveling at the strength beneath her skin. As your hands traveled lower, they lingered over her tattoos, tracing each intricate line with quiet admiration.
“You’re beautiful,” you said softly, almost absentmindedly, your fingers moving down to the small of her back.
Vi glanced over her shoulder, the smile on her lips softer this time. “You’re just saying that because I’m naked,” she teased.
You laughed quietly, but your reply was earnest. “No, Vi. I mean it.”
Your arms slipped around her, drawing her closer as you lathered the soap along her collarbone and shoulders. The water rinsed away the suds, leaving nothing but her soft skin beneath your touch. Standing on your toes, you pressed a kiss to her neck, your lips finding that spot just beneath her jaw that made her shiver. Her breathing hitched when your hands moved lower, brushing over her breasts. You massaged her gently, your thumb circling her nipple. A low sound escaped her lips, barely audible over the shower’s steady . Without breaking the rhythm of your movements, your hand slipped between her thighs. She gasped, her hips instinctively shifting forward as your fingers glided through her wetness. You found her clit easily, the slick heat of her core guiding you, and began to massage slow circles that had her trembling against you.
“Fuck,” she moaned, her voice deep and raspy. One of her hands braced against the shower wall, while the other reached back, gripping your hip for support.
Her breathing grew heavier as you continued, her moans growing louder with every movement of your hand. When you leaned up to whisper in her ear, your voice was a husky murmur. “Let me taste you.”
She looked at you, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was as much a “yes” as it was an invitation to take everything she was willing to give. Your heart pounded as you sank to your knees, the water cascading over both of you as your lips trailed down her stomach. She watched you, her darkened gaze heavy with desire, her chest rising and falling rapidly as anticipation built. Your tongue slid over her wetness, slow and deliberate, drawing out each movement as if savoring her taste. Vi's head tilted back against the tiled wall of the shower, and a soft groan escaped her lips. The water poured over her skin, mingling with the heat that radiated from her, steam filling the space around you. Her fingers tangled in your damp hair, tugging just enough to show she wanted more-no, needed more.
"You're driving me crazy," she whispered, her voice strained with desire, thick and breathless. That was all the encouragement you needed. Your hands gripped her thighs, firm yet soft, pulling her closer as you explored her with your tongue, dipping lower, deeper, tasting her as she came undone above you. Every moan, every quiet whimper from her made your pulse race, igniting a fire in your chest that only she co rause.
"Fuck," she groaned, her hips instinctively grinding toward your mouth, "Don't stop."
You hummed against her, the vibration making her shiver. You took your time, letting your tongue trace every sensitive spot, every inch of her that made her shudder. You wanted her to know that she wasn't just safe with you - but utterly worshipped. One of your hands moved from her thigh, finding her clit with practiced precision. The light brush of your fingers against her was enough to make her legs tremble. She pressed a hand harder against the wall to steady herself, her breathing uneven. Her wetness dripped onto your tongue as you worked her over, the taste of her more intoxicating with every stroke, every flick, every press , she was delicious. Your fingers picked up pace, moving against her clit in time with the thrusts of your tongue. Vi's body started to tense, her moans turning louder, rawer, echoing in the small space.
"Right there," she gasped, voice breaking. Her free hand gripped tighter in your hair, the pressure grounding you, urging you on. "Oh my god-, right there." Her hips bucked against your face as she lost control, her entire body trembling under the build-up of tension. She was close-you could feel it in the way she started to unravel, her muscles tightening beneath your hands.
"Look at you," you whispered against her, your voice low and teasing but filled with admiration. "You're so perfect when you let go for me."
That seemed to push her over the edge. Her legs nearly buckled as the first wave hit, her back arching, her breaths shallow and uneven. "Oh shit— oh fuck," she moaned, louder now, fully giving in to the pleasure you'd built up inside her. You didn't stop, riding the crest of her orgasm with her, tongue still teasing, fingers still massaging until she was trembling, her body wracked with wave after wave. Her cries became softer but no less intense, her hand pulling you closer as if afraid you'd stop too soon.
Finally, she let out a shuddering breath, her body slumping against the wall, spent but glowing. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, and when her gaze met yours, it was soft, filled with something beyond lust-something raw and tender.
You stood, kissing her stomach, her collarbone, her lips, until you were face to face again, her arms instinctively wrapping around your waist.
She chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. " You might've ruined me for breakfast."
You laughed, the sound filling the steam-heavy shower, your foreheads resting together as the water poured around you. For now, it felt like the outside world couldn't touch you. Only Vi mattered, only this.
And maybe, just for a little longer, you'd let yourself believe it could stay that way.
“Are you sure that’s the right way to do it?” you giggled softly, watching Vi wrestle with something unfamiliar in the kitchen. Her sleeves were rolled up, her brows furrowed in the most endearing concentration.
“Shhh, don’t underestimate my abilities,” she shot back with a grin, deflecting your playful jab as she kept working.
“Okay, my bad,” you surrendered, sliding into the chair by the counter, eyes trailing her every movement. “But… I still think I’m the better cook,” you teased with a smirk, unable to resist.
Vi paused just briefly, arching a brow in mock disdain. “Well, yeah,” she fired back, the sarcasm rich in her voice. “I didn’t exactly hone my culinary skills in prison. So, let me enjoy the process, alright?”
Her words hit a nerve you weren’t ready for. Your laughter faltered for just a moment as your gaze softened. Vi hadn’t noticed, not yet. She was too focused on stirring, measuring, creating—perhaps even distracting herself. But you noticed. You always did. She was just 14, torn from everything she knew and locked away in a cold, unfeeling cell for eight years. Eight years of surviving when most people would’ve shattered under the weight of it all. And yet… here she was, standing before you, kind, patient, a walking testament to everything she could’ve lost but somehow chose to preserve. How? How did she do it? You swallowed hard, caught in the swirling storm of your thoughts.
“Hey…” her voice broke through the haze. She wasn’t looking at you yet, but she must have felt your silence hanging too heavy. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you lied. Or maybe it wasn’t a lie. “I just—” You hesitated, biting your lip. You weren’t sure why you let yourself ask, but once the words started tumbling out, you couldn’t stop them. “How was it? Being in prison for so long, and so young? I mean, you don’t have to answer—”
Vi’s hands froze over the pan for just a moment before she sucked in a quiet breath and forced her focus back on the food. “It was… horrible,” she admitted softly. “When I first got there, I thought—I don’t know what I thought. I was scared. Really scared. But I couldn’t show it. You can’t, you know?” She paused, stirring again with a kind of restless energy. “I don’t even know how I got through eight years. Maybe hope? I think there was this… tiny sliver of hope that Powder was still out there. That kept me going. I’d lie awake every night thinking about her.”
Your chest tightened. Hope. How much of it still lingered inside her, after all that time? Her hope was rooted in the past. In something you now knew. Something you hid.
“Powder is your sister, right?” The question left your lips so quietly, you weren’t sure if it had been meant for her or just the silence hanging between you both.
“She was…” Vi answered, the weight of those words palpable as they fell from her lips. Her breath caught briefly before she pushed through it, masking her hurt with a deep inhale. But you could feel it. You could always feel it with her, the kind of pain that lingered even in the moments she tried to tuck it away. And guilt slammed into you like a tidal wave. You shouldn’t have asked. How could you look at her and listen to the ache in her voice, knowing what you knew? Knowing that her sister wasn’t a ghost but a nightmare waiting just around the corner? You were selfish. Keeping this from her—keeping secrets so you could hold on to this, to her—was cruel in ways you didn’t know how to face.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words tumbling out before you could think to stop them.
“For what?” she asked, glancing at you, that teasing spark back as her fingers brushed against your cheek, grounding you. You hated how much comfort her touch brought you, how undeserving you felt of it.
“For what happened to you,” you lied again, hiding the truth behind an apology that wasn’t fully yours to give.
Vi’s smile returned, a small one that didn’t reach her eyes this time. She let it slide, wordlessly plating the food she’d prepared and handing a dish to you. “I really hope this won’t kill you,” she quipped with an almost-laugh, always using humor to keep herself afloat. “I kinda like having you around.”
“Kinda?” you scoffed, lightly smacking her shoulder, feeling the warmth in her laugh as it echoed in the kitchen.
Sitting down at the table, the two of you found a kind of peace again, talking about everything and nothing. You looked at her as she spoke, losing yourself in the familiarity of it. This felt right. Safe. It felt like something you hadn’t had in a long, long time. Home.
“Wait—” You paused mid-bite, narrowing your eyes playfully. “This… actually isn’t that bad.”
“I’ll take that as a—”
But whatever she was about to say never came, cut off by the sudden, sharp knock at the door. You froze. She did too.
“Waiting for someone?” Vi asked cautiously, setting her fork down and standing to her feet.
“No,” you whispered, confused, heart pounding for reasons you didn’t yet understand.
The second knock came faster, louder this time. You stood, glancing at Vi as she moved to follow you. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to stop, to leave it, to turn back. But you didn’t. With shaking fingers, you undid the lock and opened the door.You froze. Air left your lungs like you’d been struck.
“Hey,” a voice rasped, rough around the edges and too real to belong to any memory.
Your world tilted. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. The figure standing before you—this couldn’t be.
Ellie. You couldn’t speak. You just stood there, frozen in the doorway, staring at her like she was a ghost brought to life. But she wasn’t a ghost. She was real. Too real. You could see the way her short auburn hair was tied into a half-bun, the strands still messy, like she hadn’t slept. You saw the faint freckles splattered across her face, the ones you used to know so well, the ones you’d trace absentmindedly on quiet nights. Her green eyes—they were different now. Duller, somehow. A little harder. But they were still hers.Ellie was right there, standing only a few feet away, and it felt like the air had been punched out of you.
“Y/N…” Her voice cracked as she said your name, breaking the thick, suffocating silence that hung in the doorway. She took a tentative step forward like she didn’t know whether to reach for you or run from the look on your face. Vi shifted behind you, her presence a steady weight, but Ellie didn’t acknowledge her. It was like you were the only person she saw. Your body moved before you even registered it. You stepped back—one, two, three steps—putting more distance between you and her as though the space would shield you from the overwhelming wave of emotions surging inside you. Anger rose to the surface, burning hotter than the shock. Anger so fierce it drowned out everything else.How dare she? How dare she show up here? After all this time. After what she did. After you clawed your way out of the wreckage she left behind and built a life—your life. How could she think she had the right to show up and tear it all apart? Again.
“Get out,” you hissed, the words sharp and raw as they escaped your throat. You could feel your composure slipping through your fingers like sand. “I’m not going to say it again.” Your voice cracked slightly, but you took a step forward this time, closing the distance just enough to let her know you meant every word.
Ellie didn’t flinch. Not really. But you saw her swallow hard, her jaw tightening before her lips parted, trembling. “I will,” she said quickly, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “I promise, okay? I’ll leave. Just… just let me talk to you first.”
The bitter laugh that broke from your chest surprised even you. “A promise?” you spat, the word dripping with venom. “Are you serious, Ellie? We both know your promises mean nothing. So save it. Get the fuck out of here. I have nothing to say to you, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear anything from you.”
Vi’s voice, calm but firm, cut through the tense air behind you. “You heard her.” She leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, though there was nothing casual about the way her sharp gaze lingered on Ellie.
Ellie’s eyes flicked toward her for the first time, her brows furrowing in irritation at being interrupted. Her tone turned cold, defensive. “I’m not talking to you,” she hissed back before her focus snapped back to you. It softened instantly, a desperate edge creeping into her voice as she took another cautious step closer. “Y/N, please. You can kick me out. Yell at me. Hit me if you want—I deserve it. I know that. I know I do. But please, just give me five minutes. Just let me talk to you. Alone.”
The last word was added with a pointed look toward Vi, her jaw tightening. She wasn’t just asking. She was begging.
•• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• ••
It was the middle of the night when the quiet creak from outside the room pulled you from your sleep. At first, you thought it was nothing—maybe the house settling, or the wind brushing against the windows. But then you noticed it: the faint glow of light coming from the living room, spilling in through the half-opened door. You blinked a few times, trying to clear the sleep from your eyes, before instinctively reaching for Ellie beside you. Your hand hit an empty mattress. Her side of the bed was cold.
Your heart sank as unease crept in, but you still didn’t fully understand. Not yet. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your face as you forced yourself out of bed.
“Ellie?” you called softly, your voice husky with sleep, barely cutting through the stillness of the room.
Through the crack in the door, you saw her silhouette—frozen in the middle of the living room like she’d been caught. She wasn’t supposed to be there, and something about the way she stood, stiff and hesitant, made your stomach churn.
“What’s going on?” you asked quietly, stepping closer, your bare feet soft against the floor.
She turned slowly to face you, and the moment her eyes locked with yours, it hit you like a punch to the chest. You didn’t even need her to say it. Her expression told you everything. She was holding a backpack.
“Ellie…” The word was barely a whisper, cracking under the weight of sudden, overwhelming dread. “No.” Your voice was firmer this time as you took a step closer. Your heart was already breaking before you could even piece it all together. “No,” you repeated, your tone trembling. “No, you’re not doing this.”
She exhaled shakily, her chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. She looked like she wanted to say something—needed to—but nothing came out. Instead, she reached up, gently catching your hand as it brushed over her freckled cheek. She didn’t lean into it like she always did.
“Y/N, please… don’t,” she whispered, pulling your hand away. Her touch was cold, distant. Not the warmth you were used to. She stepped back, putting more space between the two of you.
“Don’t?” Your voice cracked as you felt the first tear slip down your cheek. You couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Why was this happening? You hadn’t fought. There wasn’t a single warning sign. Nothing. “Ellie,” you pleaded, desperate, your voice shaking harder now. “What’s going on? What did I do? Why—why are you doing this?”
She avoided your eyes, her lips trembling, but her face was set, as if forcing herself to stay strong. “We both know this won’t work for long,” she mumbled, her voice breaking with quiet resignation. “It’s better if it ends now.”
It was like someone had sucked all the air out of the room.
“Bullshit,” you snapped through the tears now falling freely down your face. Your hands trembled as you reached for her again, desperate to close the gap between you. “What are you even talking about? We’re happy, Ellie! We’re happy! I’m happy!”
She flinched slightly at the words, her breath hitching like you’d hit her, but she didn’t back down. Her silence was deafening.
You stepped closer, your voice softening, barely audible. “I love you.”
She froze, her jaw tightening, but her gaze still wouldn’t meet yours. The silence that followed was heavier than anything you’d ever felt. Like the walls were caving in around you, crushing you under their weight. When she finally spoke, it was barely a whisper, her words shaky and raw. “I’m sorry.”
Then she turned away.
“No—wait,” you stammered, stumbling forward, but she was already at the door. Her fingers brushed against the handle, the finality of it hitting you like a freight train. “Ellie, don’t do this! Please!”
She opened the door without looking back, her shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world. For a split second, you thought she might stop, might turn around and take it all back. But she didn’t. She stepped through the doorway and disappeared into the night. The cold air rushed in, filling the empty space she left behind, and all you could do was collapse where you stood. The door creaked as it swung shut, but the sound barely registered over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
She was gone.
•• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• ••
Flashbacks clouded your mind, consuming every ounce of rationality you could muster. After everything, after all she had done to you—she had the audacity to show up here? At your door? She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve even a shred of your attention. The wounds she left on you ran too deep to forgive, too raw to ignore. You had given her everything, laid yourself bare, handed her your love and trust on a silver platter. And she had tossed it aside, left you shattered and hollow, forcing you to pick up the broken pieces of yourself. And now, here she was, standing there like a ghost refusing to fade.
“I don’t want to hear another word from you,” you hissed, your voice trembling with rage. You tried to keep your composure, but it cracked like glass under the weight of your pain. “I’m serious, Ellie. Whatever it is, I’m not fucking interested. Now turn around and get the hell out of here. You’re good at that, after all.” You weren’t even trying to hide the venom in your words, wanting—no, needing—to hurt her as much as she’d hurt you. Her head dropped, her eyes casting downward, and you could see it—her desperation. Her body language betrayed her, as if her entire being was begging you to let her in, to give her a chance to speak. Her green eyes glistened under the dim light, heavy with the weight of emotions she couldn’t say aloud. It reminded you of yourself… the last time you had seen her, the last time you had begged. But this wasn’t then. You weren’t the same person anymore.
“I’m serious,” she said, her voice shaking but resolute. “I need to talk to you.” Her tone was raw, yet the stubbornness in her words was unyielding. Of course, it was Ellie—she was the most determined, most maddeningly persistent person you had ever known. That much hadn’t changed.
“And I told you I’m not fucking interested,” you snapped, crossing your arms tightly across your chest like a shield. “Whatever it is, save it. It doesn’t matter to me. You don’t matter to me—not anymore.”
Ellie flinched at your words, like they had physically struck her. She stood there, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly searching for something—anything—to make you listen.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said quietly but firmly. “You can kick me out right now if you want, Y/N, but I’ll just stand outside your door all night if that’s what it takes. I’ll stay until you talk to me.”
Your laugh came out sharp, bitter. “What a fucking joke.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, but you felt your resolve begin to crack, your chest tightening. “Talk about what, huh? About how you left without saying a damn word? About how you ripped me apart and didn’t even look back?” You could feel the floodgate threatening to open, so you took a deep breath and steadied yourself, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. Ellie stepped forward, her lips parting like she was about to say something, but Vi’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
“Are you deaf?” Vi said coldly, her tone filled with threat and unwavering loyalty. “She wants you to leave. Get lost.”
Ellie’s gaze snapped toward Vi, and her defensiveness flared immediately. “I’m not talking to you, punk,” she hissed, her voice low and edged with irritation.You stepped between them, placing a firm hand on Vi’s shoulder before she could move forward. Vi looked at you, her fists clenched tightly, ready to defend you at any cost. But she stopped, catching the stern warning in your eyes. “She’s not worth it, Vi,” you murmured, lowering your voice.
Ellie’s eyes darted between the two of you, and you could see it—jealousy flaring in her expression, sharp and sudden. Her jaw clenched, the familiar tension flickering across her face. But she didn’t address it, didn’t ask. Instead, her focus locked onto you.
“Look, Ellie,” you said, your voice low but unwavering, a finality edging each word. “I’m serious. I don’t want you here—not a second more. Whatever you have to say, you can save it for someone else. I don’t—”
“It’s your brother, Y/N,” she blurted, her voice cutting through your words. Her desperation cracked through the tension like lightning.
You froze. The air shifted.
“What…?” The word barely came out, caught somewhere between disbelief and dread.
Her gaze softened, the storm of emotions still swirling in her green eyes. “It’s your brother,” she repeated, steadier now. “Faye… she found him.”
Your heart stopped, the room spinning as the weight of her words crashed down on you.
Author's note : I'm so sorry for delay but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Ellie finally shows up! What do you think , what is going to happen? Do you like how story is going so far? I really appreciate your feedback so don't be shy to share it with me!
This is my little Christmas gift for my readers. Marry Christmas everyone, I hope you're having a good one!
Thank you !!
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crunchystarz · 3 days ago
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haiii I love your writing and esp your self aware au!
Do you think you can do one for your au with Riddle and mc where mc basically fusses over him (trying to do all the chores before and after work so he doesn’t have to even though he has nothing better to do, double checking for his needs/wants a lot) all the time like they’re trying desperately to keep a house plant alive even though he’s more than fine?? (If that makes ANY sense 😭)
thanks a bunch, take your time!🖤
Xo, Manny
"Take a break"
Self-aware!Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader
Cw- Reader honestly just overworking the self, fluff, oneshot
Word count: 1446
A/N: HII imma be so honest I hope I did this req right if not I beg your biggest pardon 🙂‍↔️(fancy voice), also while this is technically a yandere au this one is just Riddle getting reader prioritize their needs so, either way enjoy!
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Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite twisted wonderland character. Even so you never expected or could have prepared for him to not only gain Self-awareness but also become a real person.
Since he's started living with you, you felt the need to monitor him almost like a toddler. You're always cooking and cleaning for him , despite his constant protests. Yeah he can do everything himself he's fully capable but a part of you is so afraid that he'll break or something if you don't.
You would wake up early in the morning just to make sure everything was tidy and Riddle would have breakfast when he eventually woke from his slumber. You would always clean up after him even if he told you he was going to once he was finished.
You made sure he'd get sleep or drink enough water. Which would be fine if you yourself did the same. You're always so worried about if he's getting enough of something or if there was anything he wanted, yet when it came to you, you'd completely brush them off.
You stumbled through the door late at night. Riddle watched observantly from the couch, closing the book he was reading. His gray eyes followed you as you went to set the bags you held in your hands on the island surface.
“You're home rather late [Name] “ He spoke as he stood up, slowly making his way over to you. You just yawned and stretched out your stiff body. You could just feel his gaze on you.
“Yeah sorry they had me working late— yawn , you need anything? I could make you some dinner if you hadn't already or I could run you a bath” you responded trying to stay upbeat despite your clearly tired appearance.
Riddle shook his head. “No not at all you should sleep “ he spoke sternly, crossing his arms. You let out a tired giggle.
“Yeah yeah I will, after I finish cleaning up the kitchen — speaking of did you eat and drink today?”
The red head let out a sigh. You'd constantly worry about him, he was completely capable of taking care of himself, he wasn't a small child anymore and despite not being completely familiar with this world he wasn't stupid either.
“Yes, I did but from the looks of this you clearly haven't, ” You snickered a bit before shaking your head.
“Oh you worry too much, I've just had a busy night I'm fine” You replied, walking over to the other side of the island just to be stopped. You lazily tilted your head as Riddle held your wrist firmly.
“I already cleaned the kitchen while you were away” The house warden said, before gently guiding you away with a hand on your back.
“Great, I'll make us something to eat” you said, letting out a yawn. Riddle sighed before leaning you over to the couch.
“You shall do no such thing, now sit” He commanded, his voice stern. You blinked , but continued to sit anyway, not wanting to see what would happen if you didn't. The idea of him using his signature crosses your sleep deprived mind and it makes you shiver despite him ever using it on you since he got here.
“Riddle I'm fine I promise I just need to—”
“To what Collapse of exhaustion?” Riddle cut you off, his voice was pointed and full of authority. Much more serious than before “You're overworking yourself again, I'm more than capable of taking care of everything so just relax” he continued, expression softening at your tired state.
You groaned and laid back against the couch cushions. You felt a little guilty. He was the one teleported into a different world. You should be the one taking care of him and all his needs, not the other way around.
Riddle moved around the kitchen with ease. You watched as the red head got on his tippy toes to grab one of your mugs from the cabinets. You wanted to tell him you could do it for him but you just knew he'd protest. You slumped into the couch more.
He was quick to take the kettle off the stove once it started to hiss softly. He carefully poured the hot water into the cup. Riddle was observant and made sure to add just the right amount of sweetness. It had to be perfect. Once satisfied he set the tea down to go find the cookies he had made earlier.
He had a lot of time to spend when you were gone after all. He made his way way over to you, gray eyes watched as you perked up at the sight of the sweets.
“You didn't have to rea—”
“Don't start “ The house warden cut you off. He handed you the cup, carefully so you wouldn't burn your hands. He placed the cookies on the coffee table before sighing.
“You seriously work yourself to exhaustion and still proceeded to worry about me, it's foolish if you ask me” Riddle said, placing his hands on his hips. You looked down at the warm liquid in your mug thinking for the right words.
“It's just, I'm supposed to take care of you , I owe you that at least you know… “ you mumbled before taking a sip of the tea.
“You owe me nothing, I am not a child who needs to be protected, I am not fragile and neither are you however “ He pauses for a moment looking down at you. “You can become fragile if you do not upkeep yourself “
You opened your mouth to respond;to protest, but Riddle held up a hand to stop you.
“I am not ungrateful,” he spoke out, his voice softening yet still stern.“I appreciate everything you’ve done since I arrived here.You’ve given me a home, patience, and care that I could never have expected. But…” He hesitated, his gray eyes searching your face for a moment before he continued. “...You can’t give all of that to me at the expense of yourself.”
You blinked at him, a little stunned by the depth of his words. “Listen I’m not—”
“You are,” Riddle interrupted firmly, leaning slightly closer. “You work late, come home, and immediately worry about whether I’ve eaten or rested, yet you neglect your own needs. Do you think I don’t notice? I’ve seen you skipping meals, staying up far too late cleaning, and leaving your own tasks undone to take care of mine.”
You frowned, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. If you could you'd sink into the couch cushions even more. “I know that, Riddle. I just… It feels like if I don’t do these things, I’m failing you somehow.”
His eyes widened for a second before shaking his head. “No, no how could you be failing me? If anything you're failing yourself”
You hesitated, your tongue poking at your cheek as you toyed with the mug in your hands. "I'm not failing myself," you tried weakly, though the exhaustion in your voice betrayed you. Riddle let out a long sigh, running a hand through his vibrant red hair.
“You are," he countered, his voice lowering. "And if you won't take the necessary steps to care for yourself, then I will ensure it happens."
Your breath caught in your throat "You don't have to do that, Riddle," you said, "You're supposed to be my guest, not my caretaker."
Riddle's lips twitched, his frown somehow deepened more for a split second. A look of…disappointment? "A guest? Is that how you still see me?"
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. "I mean… I guess. I don’t know how else to describe this situation. All I know is I don't want you to go back to being under that pressure like you did back at home”
His mind went blank for a second. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “[Name]” he started softly. You watched him as he looked away with red cheeks. After a moment he continued.
“Like I've stated before you've helped me in ways I couldn't imagine you don't need to push yourself just for my sake I can help I am a house warden after all, I care for you…a lot so do not tangle yourself in with my needs if you are not to take care of your own…please”
You wanted to protest but the words laid flat on your tongue. You could just nod in defeat as you rested your mug on the coffee table. Riddle smiled slightly before clearing his throat and putting back a stern face—blush still clear on his face.
“Good now I shall go run you a bath, then you shall get some much needed rest” The house warden said taking your now empty cup and plate into the kitchen.
When was the last time you felt cared for like this? All you knew was that it made your heart swell. Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite..
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MASTERLIST
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dokidokitsuna · 1 day ago
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GameSwap!AU
Just a random idea I had: what if Magolor and Hyness traded games with each other? Like, their character/personality remains the same, only now they each have the other’s roles and goals. I thought it would be fun~
-So making Magolor the main antagonist of Star Allies would be a trip; I feel it would change the whole ambiance of the game…probably in a detrimental way, from a gamedev point of view. You don’t really wanna put the super cute and charming new character with the most memorable heel-turn in the series…at the center of the “nostalgia” game. ^^; With the return of the Helpers and a dozen familiar faces cameoing as Dream Friends, Magolor’s theatrics would be too much of a distraction.
But whatever, let’s say we put him in anyway: now Magolor is the leader of Jambastion, trying to resurrect a god of emptiness and despair. I predict he snaps immediately. XD
I just think handing that kind of leadership role to an obviously power-hungry character like Mago would grow worms in his brain incredibly quickly. ^^; That isn’t to say that he’d do the cuckoo-4-coco-puffs schtick that Hyness does– I think instead he would be a sort of annoying “chuunibyou” character; constantly popping up to ramble about being Void Termina’s chosen one, destined to succeed because he’s the specialest and bestest ever, so you might as well give up now.
And he’d give off this completely unserious vibe like, “...Are you just making this up? Is this god you’re trying to resurrect actually real; or are you just a very lonely, understimulated, disturbed little egg…?”
And then by the end of the game we realize that he *wasn’t* making it up, and as he starts abusing the Mage Sisters (who probably hate working for him to begin with...) and rapidly becomes a real threat, suddenly we’re forced to take him seriously. ^^; We’ll rescue him from Void Termina’s innards anyway, though, because we’re nice, and similarly to his true character arc; he’ll probably realize that he got in over his head and beg to be saved.
-Hyness in Return to Dreamland would be interesting…primarily because he doesn’t seem like the ‘manipulator’ type to me. I think he’d be more of an ‘absentminded professor’ type: enthusiastic and silly but in an awkward, understated way. He’d just come right out and tell us he wants help to find the Master Crown, but he’d present it as a mysterious object of limitless possibilities that we should ALSO be interested in…y’know, just for curiosity’s sake. Conveniently leaving out the fact that he’s taking it for himself, and he’s more than just curious– he already knows exactly what he wants to do with it. ^^;
And similarly to *his* true character arc…I think Hyness would go all in. ‘_’ No hesitation, no regrets; he’d dive right into Mistilteinn’s clutches and become its twisted avatar, forcing us to literally carve him out of there if we want to stop him. This would probably call for a much tougher boss fight, with a more serious ambiance– none of Magolor Soul’s cutesy juggling; let’s aim for something more like Zero’s eyeball exploding out of his face, but in 3D~. Or all the horrific stuff Fecto Elfilis had going on, since we have the benefit of hindsight. XD
As for the end…this may hurt some folks, but I think it would make sense for Hyness to die, like the devs originally planned for Magolor before they decided to have mercy on him. The thing is, without the Mage-Sisters to highlight Hyness’ changes in behavior, there’s not as much to gain from redeeming him…maybe that’ll be part of his character arc too; seeking to become the instrument of the Master Crown because he has nothing and no one else. This version of Hyness still has his empty heart, devoid of care, but without Void Termina to pledge himself to, the tree-demon is the best he can do. ^^; And with a little fleshing-out of his backstory before he goes (perhaps a chance to learn more about the magic vs. science users…?) he could make a good tragic antagonist, the first of his kind in the series.
-...Seeing as RtDL was supposed to be like a fresh start for the Kirby series, though, all this lore and sadness would be a little heavy for that concept…from a gamedev point of view, I would reject the idea. But if we did go with it, I shudder to think how it would influence the rest of the games to follow…perhaps the franchise would actually have taken the grimdark turn that people like to think it has. ^^ Which would be cool to see, admittedly.
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YOUR L*ONISMS IN THE MALLEUS POST BYE 😭😭 I tend to try to avoid talking about him precisely bc I fear I'll sound like Leona too lmao. or bc I'm scared ppl will say "ah you only dislike him bc you like Leona"- when that's not the case at all (although I also share some of his views about the lizard) Similarly to you, I just don't get the hype- basically everything you say. my feelings for him fluctuate from "🙄 ok." to "you're okay? I guess?"
which is weird, bc I really like dragons and non-human characters learning about humans. but that's what makes it worse for me bc man all the talk about him made me want to rlly like him and then I saw him in canon and I was like uh... okay? kind of disappointed + a bit annoyed at some stuff. I do like how he talks about gargoyles or things he finds interesting tho— I'll praise you that much, Draconia.
[Referencing this post!]
***PLEASE NOTE: Everything I express in this post is my own opinion and is in no way meant to disparage Malleus enjoyers.***
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Leona and Rollo is right about Malleus and he should speak his truth 😔
To reflect a little on my own character arc with Malleus, I felt very neutral about him from the prologue to about book 2ish. This was simply because I hadn't interacted with the guy yet so I held off on judging him prematurely. The brief encounter we actually had with Malleus in book 2 wasn't meaty enough for me to get a sense for his character, so I brushed him off.
I thought it was interesting that book 2's narrative invites comparisons between Leona and Malleus, with Leona being a parallel to Scar, Malleus being a parallel to Mufasa, and the world holding Malleus up as the "superior" king. Lilia states as much in 2-26: "Would that the lion king of the savanna could witness this absolute farce. No, if you ask me, the collar suits you far better than a crown ever could. You may bemoan the fact that you're not higher in line to be king. But with that sensitive ego of yours? That so quickly directs all your petty anger at your retainers... Well, the idea of you ever contending with a REAL king like our Malleus—is absolutely laughable. Even if you COULD defeat Malleus, so long as that's how you choose to conduct yourself? You would never be fit to rule!"
And at the time, yeah, Lilia's right because Leona is very much losing his grip on his emotions and acts irrationally in an attempt to triumph over Malleus. HOWEVER... The longer the main story went on, the more I found myself disagreeing with Lilia's judgment of Malleus and his character. Now, that doesn't mean that I think Leona was in the right for the actions he took in book 2 (they are still and always will be wrong). Rather, I think Lilia gave a somewhat biased take on Malleus and his preparedness for the throne. Many of the things Lilia accuses Leona of also ended up being very true of his own liege. Malleus has a sensitive ego (he has attempted to strike down peers and faceless, magicless NPCs on more than one occasion; ie Halloween events). Malleus has directed his anger at his retainers (as a child, he froze many servants; in book 7, he attacks Sebek and Silver for attempting to wake up their peers and tries to return Lilia to sleep against his wishes). Malleus has scarcely led anyone in anything. Leona and Malleus are far more similar to one another than either of them would like to admit, but Lilia is just assuming that Malleus will be a great leader anyway because of... what? Because of birthright and lineage? Yeah, no wonder why Leona is pissed and has a bone to pick with the lizard (attempt to harm Malleus aside).
Book 3 and onwards is what I started to develop my current dislike for Malleus. (And to be clear, he has good points too! I'm not saying that he has nothing going for him at all; however, this post is focusing on my own critiques of his character so that is what I will be speaking about.) I started to notice things that annoyed me on a personal level: how he lacks consideration of others' perspectives and actively violates their autonomy, how he never gets any repercussions for his actions, how he's aware of his power and status and yet fails to avoid lording it over others, how he has been given so many opportunities to learn and change as a person but refuses those opportunities, etc. And yes, I understand that he acts in these ways for particular reasons. I'm not saying that his behaviors don't make sense, I am only stating that these are behaviors that I personally don't find appealing. (For more extensive explanations of why I don't like Malleus, please see the FAQ section in my pinned post.) All of this in spite of how little of him we actually get to see and interact with, especially in the main story. It baffled me that he was undoubtably the most popular character in EN circles. There's so much chatter about Malleus Draconia, you can't really get away from it. People are legitimately shocked when you tell them you actively dislike Malleus or when they learn that he's not even a top contender for best boy in the JP fandom. The default is assuming that you do like Malleus, which ironically happens to be the same thing that Draconians (Malleus stans in-universe) do. It feels like there's sometimes an unspoken pressure to like the guy. I also started to notice peculiar behaviors (?) which, in a vacuum, aren't necessarily bad--I would just like to comment on them because I find it interesting. With Malleus being as popular of a character as he is, there's of course going to be a lot of online discussion about him, especially from his fans. Now, I don't know if it's only me noticing this, but I've frequently observed Malleus fans going out of their way to "wring as much content" out of the least Malleus-related content possible. For example, there may be a screenshot of some other character posted and then a fan would come in and make a comment like, "I wonder how Malleus would feel about this". A more concrete example would be from the more recent JP Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas event; in it, the event character takes the back of all the characters' hands and kisses them (including Yuu). Automatically posts that showed this kissing were inundated with comments about how "Malleus would be so angry about this", even though Malleus himself shows no such reaction. Similar comments dropped when Yuu is kidnapped in the event even though, again, Malleus shows no such anger about the incident. Halloween events such as this contain half the main NRC cast, yet I saw no fans of the other 10 characters claiming those characters reacting jealously. This occurs VERY often in regards to Malleus; even in events or scenes where he doesn't react or doesn't even appear, zealous fans will insert him into the situation or make the situation suddenly about him, whether it's in someone's own posts or on other people's posts.
I wonder if this is a result of Malleus being kept so mysterious for two full years...? Without much of his character to go off of, it left a huge negative space for fans to headcanon, project, and hyperfixate on what he is like or what he could be. And maybe now those behaviors persist in an effort to fill in that void because honestly Malleus isn't getting much screen time within book 7 either 💀
I believe this has contributed to the discrepancy (that this asker brought up) between how the English-speaking Twst fandom speaks about Malleus versus what Malleus is actually like and how he is portrayed in game. The fandom version of him is pretty much always hyped up or sensationalized (sometimes simply for his mere existence), similar to how his own fans in-universe might put him on a pedestal. But then you play the game for yourself and you're exposed to so little of him and what little you do see of him is much more... reserved, somber, and sometimes even petulant, depending on the situation.
Anyway, my point is that anyone that dislikes Malleus (or any other character) should be allowed to dislike him, regardless of what anyone else says or if you feel pressured into silence🤷‍♀️
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miguel-ohara-lover · 3 days ago
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Coming Undone
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CW: feral, rapture side effects, I know rapture isn’t actually like this so maybe AU(?), no prep, GN reader, p*rn no plot, no dialogue
Note: HI?? Omg it’s been awhile since I’ve written well anything really. But I wanted to write something short and simple since it is a special time of year for a lot of people including me. I tried to make reader as non-descriptive as I could, like I didn’t even describe clothes or anything so I hope that worked? I got random struck with inspiration to write, maybe it’s all the love on my old stuff which by the way THANK YOU??? My love for Oscar Isaac was recently resparked so maybe that’s another reason lol. Anyway- I hope you like this merry Christmas and happy holidays, and if you don’t celebrate anything I hope you had a wonderful year and here’s to many more wonderful years to come.
You felt Miguel’s hot breath against your neck, his large, strong hangs pinning yours against the wall. His chest pressed into your back. God, he was feral…
He did briefly explain some side effects of Rapture when you first got together, but maybe you weren’t listening fully. You remember clearly now, exactly what he said. How it can make him feel, how dangerous he can truly get at times.
Miguel’s fangs grazed the skin of your neck. One bite and you’d be paralyzed. He was smarter than that. He had at least enough control to stop himself from causing real harm, though the temptation was there. He so badly wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh… perhaps another time he can ask if you’d like to try that.
You felt trapped, but not helpless. And trapped wasn’t necessary a bad thing. Feeling caged in by his large towering body was kind of hot. The way his frame made you feel small. His right hand moved off of yours and down to your waist. He shoved the fabric down until it bunched around your knees.
He could practically smell the arousal dripping from you, all his senses heightened and on overload. It was overwhelming. Miguel quickened his pace, letting his holographic suit dissolve away, leaving him bare behind you.
Miguel is very large, he’s aware, and you’re aware. And he’s impatient. The thought of prep does briefly cross his mind, but only that. No, he can’t wait, not anymore.
Taking barely any time to line up, he’s suddenly buried deep inside you. You cry out as he stretched your unpressed hole, but the pain quickly melts into pleasure as you feel his slow and deep movements.
For being so impatient just seconds ago, he is steady with his thrusts. He wants you to feel it deep within you, every curve, every vein. He is savoring the feeling of you around him, and for someone who is usually in control, he can already feel himself coming undone.
Miguel is big, so big you remember the first time doubting if he’d fit. Oh, he made it fit. He made sure you felt every last inch. You couldn’t walk straight for a week. Deja vu is hitting you like a stack of bricks, but it’s not a terrible feeling.
His other hand, that had been holding you against the wall, joined his right at your waist, using the control to bounce you along his length as he thrusted. Your moans grew louder as his pace quickened, the room filled with your noise and the sound of skin slapping against skin.
That combined with the smell, your smell, your touch, the sight of you… it drove him crazy. You felt his claws pricking at your skin, surely he wouldn’t actually pierce you with them, but man is he close to. The thought is there, he so badly wants to, the urge to sink his claws and teeth into you, use his webs to tie you up and just ravage you. He’s aware of how dangerous he is, and he does his best to keep it under control.
You know he’s close when his hips stutter, he gets more desperate in his movements, if that’s even possible right now. He also starts to pant, like a needy dog. This is the one stage in your… fun where he isn’t the dangerous leader of the spider society. Panting and even letting out little whines as he ruts into you.
It isn’t long before you feel the familiar warmth of his seed filling you up, and you soon join him. You let out a final moan and reaching back to tangle your fingers his hair. He remains buried in you for a moment while you both ride out your orgasms, panting as he nuzzles into your neck where his teeth were previously threatening to mark up.
He held you against his strong chest, keeping you up knowing you’d slip if he didn’t have a grip on you. He mumbled some quiet thanks against your skin, and you simply smiled as your fingers tangled in his slightly dampened hair. A shower sounds like a good idea, now that he isn’t overwhelmed by senses and feelings.
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zablife · 3 days ago
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Shelby Christmas Spectacular
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Summary: The Shelby family and their friends gather for a memorable Christmas party.
A/N: Written for @little-diable Chi's 17K celebration. Two lines in bold are borrowed from the Christmas scene in The Godfather. I admit I deviated from the x reader requirement so I hope that's okay. I wanted to find a way to honor all my moots' lovely OCs. (See the end for credits.) Fair warning this might be the worst thing I've ever written, but at least it was made with love 🤍
Warnings: drinking, cursing, mention of a weapon, mention of illness, hint of nsfw
Frances had been right suggesting the enormous Christmas trees in each room of the Shelby home. Something in her caring nature had sensed the change in Mr. Shelby’s spirits leading up to Christmas Eve. Now her preparations were being praised by Tommy’s partner, Lucy, who went room to room admiring the ornately decorated boughs. She did raise a concern over the candles on the tree in the parlor, wondering if it might be best to extinguish them before John's lot began running circles around the tree. However, she thought better of it knowing Tommy’s trusted man, Don would be standing nearby. 
The gentle giant was a comfort to them both this past year and she trusted him implicitly with the protection of their home. Nothing very bad could happen to you with Don by your side, Lucy thought, recalling the days when he’d saved Tommy from himself when she couldn’t.
As she passed through the hall, a servant delivered a telegram on an ornate silver tray. "Who do you know in Hong Kong, ma'am?" the girl asked with awe struck gaze. Lucy plucked the card from the curious maid, squinting at the small type. Having a grand time. My wife and I will return in January." She read the last line once more in a haze of disbelief.
"So he married her?" Tommy rumbled with satisfaction, pleased to hear his cousin was finally settled with the witty and well-connected Mei Chang. Wrapping his arounds Lucy, he gave her waist a gentle squeeze of appreciation he too had someone loyal by his side.
Lost in their own world, they scarcely noticed the click of Polly's high heels against the polished wood. That is until her voice rose sharply behind them. "Married?" she cried.
Lucy attempted to hide the telegram, but Polly captured it between her fingertips at the last moment, reading the lines that exposed her son's secret.
"Thought that's what ya wanted, Pol," Tommy remarked, only to watch the lines of her face crease in despair.
"I wasn't there, Tommy," she noted sadly.
"We'll have a party as soon as they return," Tommy assured her, glancing tentatively at Lucy who was doing her utmost to bite her tongue. She was perhaps the last person one might expect to give a party in Michael's honor, but the placation seemed to soothe Polly so she didn't object.
There was no time to consider the proposal now anyway, Frances brightly announcing the youngest Shelby siblings, twins Sylvie and Sonya, were on the line from London. Any lingering sadness vanished as Polly practically sprinted into Tommy's office to be the first to speak with them.
A tear came to her eye as she listened to their cheerful greeting which sounded very far away. "I'm sorry I couldn't make the last performance of the year," she apologized, thoughts drifting to their graceful form en pointe.
"It's alright, Pol," Sonya assured her softly.
"We've been so busy with rehearsals, we wouldn't have had time for a proper chat anyhow," Sylvie added.
"I'm coming in the new year then and you'll tell me all about playing Odette, hm?" Polly hummed.
"I ...erm...wasn't chosen as Odette," Sylvie revealed, failing to conceal the bitter disappointment in her voice.
Polly's head snapped up at that moment, ready to battle with the ballet master she longed to torment each time he snubbed her nieces in favor of another dancer. "I'll make a call," she promised, fingers subconsciously stroking the flick knife in her pocket. "No, Pol!" the girls replied in unison.
Polly could only chuckle at their solidarity, knowing they'd have her head if she interfered. They hadn't changed a bit from their days running thru the fens as wild reckless wains who abhorred being told what to do.
"Alright," Polly conceded, relinquishing the knife's handle. "I'll stay out of it so long as you two keep out of trouble. Do you hear?" Even as she said it she didn't believe they would, especially during their upcoming break when they would likely spend their nights in clubs. "No galavanting with Chi!" she added sharply.
"We won't," they replied in static monotone, tired of the lectures about their friend who had been deemed a bad influence after John and Arthur learned of her penchant for priests and professors.
Wishing them a happy Christmas, Polly passed the phone to Tommy who undoubtedly wanted to be sure they'd extended an invitation to tonight's party to Alfie and his wife Rose. Another chorused reply came down the line in one long exasperated sigh. Apparently it was a great insult to suggest they shouldn't have been trusted with the task.
Tommy rolled his eyes as he selected a cigarette from its case, allowing them to playfully berate their older brother about his lack of faith in them. Wishing them well for tonight's performance, he ended the call, eyes drifting toward the cars arriving in a long line down the front drive.
Of course Ada would be the first to appear, her glamorous new style on display for all to see. He smirked to himself as he took in the sight of her bright red lipstick specially ordered in New York and shipped to Boston by the caseful now that she could afford it. His sister had dressed to impress this evening and he was curios to see who she'd chosen to escort her when he nearly choked at the sight.
Her old friend Irene stepped from the car moments later, arm wrapped snuggly beneath Ada's gloved hand as they ascended the steps of Arrow House. "Are they..." Tommy began.
"Together?" Lucy offered, meeting Tommy at the window. She only shrugged at the question, uncertain of the details, though she quickly made a note to find out.
The car no one seemed to be able to place was the expensive Bentley, a newer model which put Tommy's to shame. As Bonnie and Vano passed, a long, low whistle rose from their mouths in appreciation of such a fine automobile.
"Don't you be lookin'!" Johnny Dogs scolded as he followed in their wake. "M not just gonna be lookin'," Vano whispered as he jabbed Bonnie in the ribs. His eyes roved the emerald green paint and polished chrome accents, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Nodding politely to the driver now exiting the car, he thought of nothing but a carefree joy ride later when no one would know he was missing.
He might have thought the car was impressive, but his jaw dropped at the sight of who exited moments later. A strikingly beautiful woman with tan skin and dark hair adjusted a scandalously low cut gown beneath her fur.
"Who is that?" he asked Bonnie.
"That's Eva Nelson and you best not look at her either, dinlow!" Bonnie advised, averting his gaze as Jack Nelson glowered at them. "He'll take a garrote to your balls for less," he gulped.
Vano only chuckled in reply, the cloak of youth and stupidity providing ample protection against Bonnie's warnings.
"Thought you were here to see Evie?" Bonnie remarked, watching his friend carefully.
"I am," Vano replied, straightening his jacket to impress Mr. Shelby.
As they reached the front door, they were quickly parted by a large slobbering animal barreling toward Tommy. As the enormous mastiff left a shining trail of saliva in puddles along the carpet, his owners followed behind with wide smiles.
"Tommy!" Alfie called out, arms outstretched in cheerful greeting, his cane nearly bashing Bonnie on the head.
"Alfie," Tommy barely acknowledged, preoccupied with the whereabouts of the dog. "And Cyril," he added with a slight start to his voice and a wince upon hearing the crash of something breakable in the next room.
"We couldn't bear to leave him alone for the night. I hope you don't mind," Rose commented with airy nonchalance. "Besides we know how fond you are of him." It was clear by the barely concealed grin of impish delight she knew that to be false. Alfie couldn't help the roar of laughter upon seeing Tommy's reddening face only made worse by the appearance of a distraught Evie.
"Dad, my ducks!" she shrieked, waiving her hands in perplexed gesturing which told him nothing of the flapping and honking created in Cyril's wake.
Momentarily distracted by the half-eaten wheel of cheese in Evie's hand, Rose began to snicker. They were full fledged giggles by the time Polly came rushing in to chide the teen. "For fucks sake, Evie, put that back!"
In a failed attempt to hide the cheese behind her back, she felt Polly tug her arm away to assess the damage. Noting the prominent teethmarks gnawed savagely into the rind, Polly cast a horrified glance at Tommy who was pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off an inevitable headache. He would need more than the one permitted drink to get through tonight, he thought.
After Arthur had been found drunk in the stairwell earlier in his Santa costume, he'd promised Lucy to stay sober in order to chaperone. Now the job would have to fall to nurse Charlotte as Tommy urgently motioned for a maid to bring him three fingers of whisky.
Then he called for another at the sight of Finn stumbling from a nearby closet, Santa suit around his ankles and striped underpants on display for all to see. "What the fuck are you doing, eh?" Tommy asked in exasperation, assuming Finn had shirked his duty in favor of more amusing activities. "Pull your trousers up, there are children here," he hissed at his younger brother.
Clutching at the fuzzy red material, Finn retorted, "It's the bloody kids who pulled 'em down. What did Esme put in those cakes?" Just then a chorus of war whoops erupted down the corridor, a sugar fueled search party giving chase. Finn scrambled away as they rounded the corner, continuing to hunt their uncle in manic delight.
Alfie escorted his wife into the drawing room with Rose clutching at her sides, wheezing through tears as she told her husband she'd found a new appreciation for Christmas festivities.
Jack and Eva Nelson were not as amused by the scene before them, Eva making snide comments about everything from their pitiful decorations to the lack of champagne. Jack didn't attempt to correct her, hoping to stay on her good side long enough to fuck on Shelby's desk later. A literal and figurative fuck you to his former business partner.
Blissfully ignorant to the scheme being concocted before him, Tommy leaned into Polly to discuss another pressing matter. "Pol, there are some people here not on the list." He eyed Luca Changretta, wondering when his old enemy had snuck past his guards.
As he approached the uninvited guest, he quickly realized Luca wasn't alone. A petite blonde with a slight baby bump took Luca's hand, her warm smile melting the ice in Tommy's cool stare.
"I don't believe we've met. I'm Emily Changretta," the woman announced cheerfully. "You have a lovely home," she complimented her host.
"Thank you," Tommy managed with a tight smile. Turning to Luca he asked through gritted teeth, "And why are you in my home, Mr. Changretta?"
Luca shrugged as he attempted to apologize for the business with Solomons last year, a gesture Emily insisted upon to clear the air before their child was born. He stumbled as he chose his words, the act of humility quite unfamiliar to him. "Anyway...I come baring gifts to show there's no hard feelings on my end," Luca confided, reaching into his jacket pocket.
Misreading the gesture, Tommy pulled his revolver from his side at lightning speed. Seconds later he heard another gun cock beside him, realizing Don had been watching in the shadows.
As the crisis unfolded, Emily shielded her bump with an ear piercing shriek. She watched as Luca raise his hands into the air, a good natured chuckle tumbling from his lips as he assured her, "It's okay, honey. They don't trust nobody." He instructed her to remove a small box from his pocket and she did so with trembling hands. Holding it up for Tommy to see, Luca lightly shook the contents with a taunting smile.
Tommy could only sigh in relief as he holstered his gun and gave Don the signal to stand down. Reflexes sharp with lingering adrenaline, Tommy deftly caught the box as it came sailing through the air at him. As it clicked open an expensive set of gold engraved cufflinks sparkled back at him from the velvet lining and he furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Just tryin' to help you dress better," Luca said with a wink. Tommy's jaw clenched at the old insult resurfacing. It was clear Luca would never tire of making jokes at his expense.
Apparently that wasn't the only thing he had in mind to annoy Tommy, having brought a Sicilian business associate with him as well. Stefano Spinietta was a loathsome man who wore too much hair pomade and reeked of pungent cologne which lingered in every room he passed through. He also boasted endlessly about his family's importance and a girl back home desperate to become part of it.
As Lucy became the fifth person to hear his speech, she rolled her eyes and whispered to her horse trainer May, "I'd wager a tenner that Nina despises him more than I do." Needing a break from the head splitting boredom of the self important little man, Lucy went in search of better company. She felt a bit guilty leaving Ethel and May to chat with him, but knew they were more than capable of handling the pretentious weasel with their caustic wit.
In no time she found Ada and Irene, the women showering her with compliments on her new velvet green dress. "Please thank your mum for me, Irene. She really outdid herself this time," Lucy requested.
"She's the best dressmaker in Small Heath," Irene agreed.
"I think you both share that honor," Ada reminded her with a proud grin. She never tired of discussing Irene's gift for working with fabrics, even if the woman was too modest to admit her talent.
"Have you seen the dress Arthur bought for Heaven?" Irene asked, changing the subject to something other than herself.
"She looked stunning until Arthur vomited down the front," Charlotte replied, joining the conversation and the party for the first time that evening.
"Charlotte! I'm so sorry Tommy saddled you with Arthur tonight," Lucy apologized. She quickly filled a cup with punch and offered it to their employee turned close personal friend.
Charlotte dismissed the notion with a soft laugh. "It was no trouble. "Minding Arthur is like minding a sleepy kitten," she assured Lucy, clinking their glasses together in a show of solidarity.
"Not like Tommy then?" Lucy joked, everyone now thankfully able to laugh at the times Tommy had cursed and thrown things at the woman tasked with helping him walk again.
"God, Tommy was more like a savage lion!" Charlotte quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Lucy.
"Still is!" Lucy added jovially.
The women had hardly noticed Heaven appear, despite the stark contrast of her flowing white hair in a sea of brunettes. She had fashioned a new outfit out of the clothes she packed for the next day and somehow looked even more stunning than when she arrived.
"Heaven's back!" Ada exclaimed, waving her over to them.
Making her way through the crowd, Heaven appeared anxious and a bit out of place until they realized why. In her right hand, she awkwardly held the wrist of a little boy shivering of cold and clutching a stuffed toy to his chest.
Knowing that Heaven never knew what to do around children, Lucy took the lead. "Who have you got there?" she asked, looking down at the small child with a look of pity. His clothes looked far too thin for the weather and his teeth chattered loudly despite the gramophone playing a spirited jazz tune.
Heaven only shrugged, releasing the boy's hand as Lucy bent down to have a chat with him. "My name's Lucy. What's yours, love?" she asked in a warm, welcoming voice.
"Isaac, ma'am," the polite child replied, shifting his weight as he grew nervous with the attention of so many people.
"And who have you got there?" she asked, pointing to the toy he was squeezing beneath one arm.
"Mr. Giraffe," he sniffed before falling silent once more.
"Hello, Mr. Giraffe, what brings you all this way?" Lucy asked the toy animatedly.
Eyes flicking down to the well loved friend he always carried, Isaac confessed, "He's here to see Mr. Shelby. We need to ask a favor for my mum."
Lucy stared up at Ada and Heaven who only returned quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen the boy before and they certainly didn't know of his ailing mother, bed ridden back in town. However, the toy now looked familiar to Ada who gently asked to see it.
As Isaac held the one eyed friend to her patiently, she gasped at the recollection of Tommy donating it after Florence left home. The child was indeed telling the truth that he knew her brother. She nodded determinedly to Lucy, taking Isaac by the hand to see Tommy.
He was a brave lad, asking Tommy for help without tears and was swiftly rewarded with treats and the company of the other children. He settled in beside them as Emily taught them card games, whispering her best tips for counting cards. By the end of the evening Isaac was driven home with a belly full of cake and a doctor to see to his mum.
Waving goodbye from front steps, Tommy and Lucy stood arm in arm beneath a star filled sky. They sighed in unison, the long day wearing on them both.
"It's been quite a night, hasn't it?" Tommy recollected, too tired to think of the guests still lingering inside or the enormous mess to be cleaned after Cyril chased Evie's ducks through the lower level of the house bringing a couple of Christmas trees crashing down.
"And we've Michael and Mei's wedding breakfast to plan," Lucy pointed out.
Tommy hummed in recognition, no further words spoken between them. Lucy merely offered the comfort of her presence without the need to fill the silence. However, internally she was going over Frances' unofficial count of the mayhem: 12 guests too drunk to drive, 11 frantic maids to serve them, 10 pound missing from the safe, 9 bottles of whisky consumed, 8 stolen hubcaps, 7 smashed vases, 6 traumatized ducks, 5 suspiciously sticky piles of paperwork in Tommy's office, 4 men in need of stitches, 3 carpets needing cleaning, 2 overturned trees with broken ornaments and 1 ruined Santa suit.
She vowed not to think of it all now. Not when she'd yet to have a dance with Tommy. So she gently guided him inside to sway beneath a sprig of mistletoe. Resting her head on her lover's shoulder, she leaned into his strong frame with a contented sigh.
"What do you want for Christmas?" Tommy asked.
"Me? Oh, just you," she admitted with a giggle.
"Was tonight everything you wanted?" he inquired thoughtfully, cheek pressed to the top of her head.
She nodded slowly, grazing her cheek against his shirt front. "Everyone together and no fucking fighting?!" she exclaimed it like the miracle it was.
"We pulled it off," Tommy announced, leaning in for a celebratory kiss.
The tender moment was soon interrupted by Arthur's rough voice and the sound of mud caked boots sliding on hardwood. Still half drunk, Arthur staggered into the room. Pushing his hair from his forehead, he grumbled, "Fookin' kids!"
"Who, Arthur?" Lucy snapped.
"Isaiah and Vano are fightin' in the garden, Tom," Johnny Dogs finished the thought as he poked his head around the door frame. "Somethin' about Evie," he shrugged.
"Fuckin' hell," Tommy huffed, striding out to confront his daughter's suitors.
"Daddy, wait!" Evie cried out as she heard him stomping down the hall toward the back door. She grabbed hold of his coat tails, attempting to halt her father and his infamous temper.
"It was nice while it lasted," Lucy commented, holding up the hem of her gown to rush after them.
------------------
"It's rubbish isn't it?" Cillain asked, peering over the script he'd been reading aloud for the past twenty minutes.
A snort of laughter erupted from across the sofa, Clara's hand clapping over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "I didn't want to say anything..." she began before Cillian cut her off with a hearty laugh of his own.
"You didn't have to," he noted, tossing the pages aside as he pulled his wife into his arms. Cocooning her in his warm embrace they sat for some time silently considering the confidential pages of the Peaky holiday special.
"Stephen's taking the piss surely," Clara said as she thumbed through the pages of new characters and scenarios never once mentioned in the show. "It reads like..." she attempted to find the least offensive term to describe the disjointed work.
"A screwball comedy," Cillian offered.
"I was going to say fever dream," she confessed, looking up at her husband's striking blue eyes to determine how serious he was about the project.
"I know what you're thinking," he smirked, taking her chin in his hands. "But we'll hire Brummie to polish it for us and it'll be grand."
Clara gave him a worried look, "Isn't she the one who likes to bring out Tommy's dark side? I'm not sure I want to live with you whilst you channel him!"
"What about the American?" he asked with a deep sigh.
"K? I do enjoy the sentimental moments she creates," she remarked wistfully. "But I don't know why you're disregarding the other projects you've been sent. The romantic comedy about the tattoo artist with purple hair or the drama with the Kurdish Italian academic?"
However, he hadn't quite been listening, another thought suddenly stealing his attention. “You know, if we did this holiday thing, Marianne would be perfect for Lucy,” he mused, thinking of the enormous success of his friend's recent play and her rave reviews.
"You're actually entertaining the idea?" Clara asked hesitantly.
"Well I don't have to decide tonight. Let's forget about it for now, yeah?" he suggested, eyes growing heavy. "I want to enjoy the peace and quiet while we have the house to ourselves."
"A silent night," Clara agreed with a nod, leaning in for a deep kiss that would surely distract them both.
-----------------
Credits:
Brummie (as herself) @brummiereader
Charlotte (Tommy's nurse) @toms-cherry-trees
Chi (as herself) @little-diable
Clara Murphy (Cillian's wife) @cillmequick
Don (Tommy's employee and lover) @the-makingsofgreatness
Emily (Luca's wife) @darklydeliciousdesires
Ethel (May's gf) @shelbydelrey
Eva (Jack's wife) @evita-shelby
Evie (Tommy's adopted daughter) @novashelby
Heaven (Arthur's wife) @call-sign-shark
Isaac (boy from Small Heath) @garrison-girl-08
Jiyan-a.k.a "the Kurdish Italian academic" (Cillian's love interest in Shadow of the Sea) @lunarubra
K (as herself) @runnning-outof-time
Lucy (Tommy's partner) @mischievouslittlecreature
Marianne (Cillian's theater protege) @look-at-the-soul
Mei (Michael's wife) @vivianleighwishesshewasme
Mr. Giraffe (Florence Shelby's stuffed toy) @teenwolf-theoriginals
Quinn-a.k.a "the purple haired tattoo artist" (Tommy's love interest in Misadventures) @moral-terpitude
Rose (Alfie's wife) @justrainandcoffee
Stefano (Sicilian bastard) @peakyswritings
Sylvie & Sonya (Tommy's twin sisters) @pacifymebby
Vano (a gypsy boy travelling with the Golds) @wonderlanddreamer
------------
Tag List:
@alanadetigy 
@severewobblerlightdragon
@lovemissyhoneybee
@theshelbyslimited
@kittycatcait219
@callsign-fangirl
@theshelbyclan
@red-riding-wood
@elenavampire21
@lyarr24
@the-fangirl-diaries
@kmc1989
@everythingelseisextra
@stilestotherescue 
@helen06dreamer
@pietroxreader 
@galactict3a
@ietss
@mostly-marvel-musings
@writeroutoftime
@yolobloggers
@outlanderuniverse
@anilovessadbooks
@tremendousstarlighttragedy
@elliaze
@leenieweenie
@snickersmee
@niktwazny303
@copinghex
@margaret-morriss-secrethideout
@hecatemoon87
@ryecosse
@dandelionprints
@cillianmurphyfanatic
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@mrsarnasdelicious
@justlulu
@rangerelik
@babayaga67
@kmhappybunny240
@babaohhhriley
@literishdegree99
@padfootdaredmetoo
@smailaway
@aesthetic0cherryblossom
@allie131313
@xiluvfictional-men
@mrs-bellingham
@duckybird101
@writers-hes
@neonpurplestars89-blog
89 notes · View notes
hermanoga · 3 days ago
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One of the best things 'The Eye' and 'Lull' have done is helping me reinterpret the romantic under(?!)tones of the previous openings and endings without any weird guilt (of forcing my gay agenda on anything, which I know is idiotic but anyway). Go back and listen to Vortex, Dive Back in Time and The Tides, everything falls into place all of a sudden. And ALSO, read the damn lyrics of Overthink!
ps : I forgot Break and Flash - the gayest gay ones. I will discuss if I want later :3
Yingdu is standing there with a scythe or something as I write this but I am actually feeling very content right now. Oh, also! found a theory on twitter thread titled This isn’t the dead wife you’re looking for: how Link Click leverages the “dead wife” trope for CXS while actively subverting it (bro wrote an almost academic paper, delicious arguments really, a similar discussion I was having with a friend the other day) which really makes a lot of sense! The form and content aligns very perfectly if we keep that theory in mind.
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Edit : Some more Shiguang ramblings I posted.
I have tears in my Shiguang eyes cause I skipped lunch to edit this, I am hungry and I feel like crying.
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salt-clangen · 3 days ago
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Moon 10
Leaf bare
First Frost Festival
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“Are you sure, you’re alright staying behind for the gathering?” Wolfstar asked as she loaded another basket with charms.
“Someone has too.” Shadowdive responded gruffly.
She paused and glanced over the camp, Burnpaw was bundling rosemary with Lynxpaw. Meanwhile, Snowspeckle was playing moss ball with her kits, getting them tired before breaking the news they’ll be gone all day. No one was near the pair.
“I didn’t expect you to volunteer. I figured Burnpaw would stay back since he hasn’t been to a gathering since joining.” She admitted, not missing his hackles raise just a hair as she spoke.
“Makes more sense for me to stay back and guard the camp. Lynxpaw is the cleric, Snow is the deputy, and Burnpaw is helping cook.” He paused for a moment and lifted his still sprained paw. “Not much use on three legs anyways.”
Normally, she would accept that, Shadowdive had always been pragmatic even when it meant he got the short end of the stick. But it just doesn’t sit right with her this time.
“I guess I just wish you could come as well.” She sighed, ears flicking a little as a cold wind blew through the camp.
“It’ll be fine.” He said dismissively, busying himself with his leg wrap.
“Oh I’m not worried about you.” She laughed, but cut herself off quickly. “What I mean-heh is I’m not worried about the camp in your care. Heh.”
His back was to her so she couldn’t get a good read on him. Regardless, he didn’t respond.
Wolfstar wished she could just ask him why he seemed so off, but she wasn’t entirely sure it was him who was acting different. Her dreams were still plaguing her with visions of mismatched eyes, she wondered if the restless sleep was changing her.
As she finished with the baskets and he staked another torch beside the nursery den entrance, the winds died down. The clan had been working on torches for most of leaf fall and now with leaf bare finally arriving they’d planted multiple unlit torches in the sand around camp to help maintain warmth and deter snow building up.
She brushed her side against Shadowdive’s as she walked by to check on Burnpaw, the dark tom pulled back quickly. Not missing a step she tried to not look upset as she approached the camp keeper.
“Oh, hey Wolfstar.” The red tom greeted her, cinching a knot in the twine as he did. “This is the last one and we should be ready.”
“Good, all our charms are loaded up and Oakclan said we didn’t need to bring anything aside from the that and rosemary.” She smiled, looking over the bundles.
“I think Lynxpaw was gonna bring some black salt as well for some more spiritual protection.”
“Oh? How’d you make black salt?” She asked the young cleric as she returned from her den. “Normally clerics use coltsfoot and ash.”
“Similar process, but since salt is a powerful tool both spiritually and in our food, I figured I could kinda combine it and see how the other clerics like it.” Lynxpaw opened the jar she was carrying to show her. “I mixed ground up herbs like sage and thyme and gently toasted them in a dry pot over the fire. When it cooled I added in the salt and some ash. It’s a nice color and should contain all the properties of its ingredients.”
“Wow very impressive.” Wolfstar gave the mixture a sniff. “Mousefoot will be impressed.”
“I hope so!”
Squealing from across the camp caught their attention.
“Uh oh, looks like Snowspeckle broke the news to them.” Burnpaw murmured, settling into a loaf.
Wolfstar sat beside him and watched, pressing her side against his to make up for the chilly morning. Otterkit was crying, clinging to his mother’s leg, while Ripplekit just looked angry. Poor Snowspeckle tried to ease the black kit’s grip but he clung tighter.
“Should we help her?” Lynxpaw asked, settling on Wolfstar’s other side.
“Fuck that.” The leader laughed. “I might actually break and bring them with us.”
“I mean, is it against the rules?”
“Lynxpaw we are not bringing the kits to the festival.” Wolfstar said firmly.
“I’m just saying it’s not like it’s the worst thing in the world.”
“She’s got a point.” Burnpaw added, though his tone was playful.
“This is why we’re letting Snowspeckle handle this. You two are weak and so am I.” She nipped Lynxpaw’s ear tuft gently.
Eventually, Snowspeckle got untangled from her kits and passed them over to Shadowdive. The large warrior was prepared though and had a new moss ball toy ready for them, distracting the pair so Snowspeckle could trot over to the lounging group.
“Let’s go before they remember why they’re upset.” She hurriedly grabbed a basket.
The walk to the gathering place was chilly, the patrol took the long way to avoid swimming, the baskets not water proofed let alone their coats.
The festival was still setting up as the group arrived, cats lighting torches around the clearing to drive off the cold. The ground was rock solid with frost and many of the plants were dead and wilting. No snow yet, but Wolfstar suspected it would come before the end of the moon.
“Oh our friends from Saltclan have arrived!” Archstar called out as they caught sight of the group.
Wolfstar nodded to them politely before addressing her clan.
“Burnpaw, go help set up with the other cooks. Lynxpaw, you and Snowspeckle start hanging the charms around the edge of camp, then go show the other clerics your salt.”
Burnpaw seemed nervous to be present, but didn’t argue as he left to join other camp keepers.
Glancing around the camp it seemed they were the last clan to arrive, Oakclan’s artisans organizing various groups and activities. With everyone buzzing about, Wolfstar let herself be waved over by Archstar.
“Come join us Wolfstar, we’re discussing the new leaf festival.” They offered her a spot next to them on the deputy rocks. On their other side sat Rookstar, the orange leader looking as laid back as always. Across from the three stood Jaggedstar, the only cat not sitting or lying.
Wolfstar bowed her head briefly to each leader, but didn’t chime in. She settled into a loaf and waited for the conversation to begin again.
“As you know typically the first day of new leaf is celebrated by all the clans, but no one has ever really hosted.” Rookstar began.
“Though Oakclan does seem to love taking charge of it as if they were the hosts.” Jaggedstar cut in quickly.
“It only makes sense given my clan’s prosperity and gift of artisans.” Archstar said slyly, a cheeky grin on their face. “But that’s why I’m suggesting that Saltclan host the festival going forward.”
“You do?” Wolfstar asked.
“You haven’t even thought to discuss it with them?” Jaggedstar scoffed.
“We’re discussing it now aren’t we?”
“I don’t see an issue with it.” Rookstar said.
“We’d be honored to host, however I’m not sure how effective it would be given our current size, but we’d be happy to organize something suitable.” Wolfstar rushed out, hoping to get her opinion out before more arguments arouse. “If every clan finds this agreeable of course.”
She glanced at Jaggedstar for a moment, but the dark molly was quiet and stone faced, finally settling into a loaf.
“Well then, I’ll let my artisan know and we’ll begin planning.” She chirped, a little surprised the issue was resolved so quickly.
“Feel free to lean on Oakclan for this, we have plenty of resources and artisans to spare. Plus plenty of experience.” Archstar purred.
The conversation devolved into the silvery leader trying to give advice on how they’d prepare for the new leaf holiday. Wolfstar tried to politely engage, while still minimizing the pushy clan’s involvement. It continued on like that until mid morning when Jaggedstar finally rose to speak.
“If you two would excuse us, I need to speak with Wolfstar for a moment.” She huffed out, eyeing Archstar who gave her a placating smile.
Rookstar, for his part, had drifted off and began snoozing during all the chatter.
“Oh a little family reunion?” Archstar teased, tail flicking as Wolfstar stood to follow her mother.
“Hardly,” Jaggedstar hissed, sending a few cats scurrying out of her way. “We need to discuss a border issue.”
“Well don’t spend all of Wolfstar’s time discussing work matters, this is her first leaf bare festival.” They chirped, though it sounded much more snide than their other quips.
“Hmm isn’t your first frost holiday as well?” Wolfstar asked, eyes sharp on them. Archstar’s smile widened, like this was fun for them, but their tail flick betrayed themself.
They were bested.
The mother daughter pair trotted off to the other side of the clearing. Near where some apprentices were practicing their skits for the feast.
“You pissed them off.” Jaggedstar had a wide, toothy grin as she turned to face her. “I’m almost mad I wasn’t the one to put that look on their arrogant face.”
“You wanted to discuss the border?” Wolfstar asked, making her face neutral to hide her nerves. “I’m assuming you mean the abandoned nest?”
“What? No I lied to get us away from Archstar.” She shocked her coat out as a chilly drizzle began. “The nest is our territory and we’ll continue to guard it as such.”
“And we’ll continue to reclaim our territory.”
“There, now we’ve discussed it.” Jaggedstar said, seemingly pleased.
“If you wanted to get away from Archstar you could’ve just left, no need to drag me into this.” She sighed, tucking herself under some brush to avoid the rain, making room for the larger cat.
“They’re setting you up.” The larger cat hissed.
“Look I know they’re trying to take over planning the festival. I’m not gonna let them, my clan will host and that’ll be that.”
“No it won’t. Don’t you see? They’re being pushy to make you defensive, then you’ll try to host the festival all on your own right after leaf bare when your clan is already struggling. Then when the festival goes poorly because you ran out of time or supplies they get to say that you don’t deserve to host and try to claim it for themselves.”
“That’s a stretch.” Wolfstar scoffed. “I’d say Archstar is more arrogant than conniving.”
“Don’t underestimate them.” She hissed.
Like you underestimated me? Wolfstar didn’t say it, but they could both feel it hang in the air.
“So either I let them take over planning and they get to gloat or I do all the planning, fail and then they gloat?”
“Just be careful how you move with them, you don’t know them like I do.” Jaggedstar said, voice rumbling like thunder. “Don’t be afraid to delegate tasks to other clans.”
The pair sat in silence before Wolfstar finally said.
“What happened to not giving me anything for free?” She chuckled.
“I’m not helping you, I’m hurting Oakclan, there’s a difference!” The dark molly growled, tail thrashing.
Wolfstar barked out a laugh, slowly her mother’s tension lessened and she huffed a laugh too.
“Just, be reasonable with what you do give to the other clans.” She coughed to cover up her smirk. “Not too much but not too little.”
“Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”
The pair stood awkwardly as they watched the clans finish setting up, the little drizzle of rain slowing down to a drip.
“I’m gonna go play some Paw n Prey, if you wanna join me.” Wolfstar gestured to the Duskclan elders setting up the three cups for the game.
“Perhaps later.” Jaggedstar said dismissively, eyes sharp as she looked over the clearing. “I’m going to go find Thornstrike. I don’t see him.”
Wolfstar nodded at the older cat, her steps slow as she walked away, hoping she’d change her mind. Finally as she got a few tail lengths away, her pace quickened. By the time she reached the trio of elders, a small crowd had gather, a diverse mix of age and clan origin.
She sat between an Oakclan tom and Honeyclan gib, waiting for her turn.
“Wolfpaw?” A voice to her left called out, she wanted to turn on instinct but kept her gaze locked forward.
“She’s Wolfstar, you idiot don’t be rude.” An older voice hissed and she heard a firm thump, finally her curiosity made her turn to look.
Sparkpaw sat, her large figure hunched over, rubbing her ear after the harsh smack her mentor gave her. Stoatfang sat beside her, a fierce image despite her small frame, she glared at the apprentice before flicking an ear and turning to the group, most of which watching openly.
“Wolfstar.” The older warrior nodded at her.
“Stoatfang.” She nodded back, awkwardly glancing around as she tried to think of what to say.
Thankfully the elders running the game announced they were taking bets, they made a show of placing the roasted beech but under one cup and began to shuffle the trio. Wolfstar had nothing to bet, but bragging rights were still on the table and she was glad for the distraction.
Inkpath waited until everyone either made their claim or placed a bet before revealing the cups one by one. Wolfstar, like many, had picked the left most cup, which unfortunately came up empty. Grumbles broke out amongst the group, but no one strayed, eager for the next game.
Several rounds went by, Wolfstar winning several and enjoying a delicious beech nut for her efforts. A few cats mumbled accusations of cheating under their breathes, but she ignored them. Sparkpaw after the third round wandered off, though her mentor was too engulf in the games to notice.
It was nearly sun high when the games paused, everyone yawning and feeling the need to rest. Wolfstar felt a prickle of panic set in, she was exhausted and could use the nap, but she worried about having a nightmare around so many cats. Even her own clan didn’t know the extent of her restless sleep.
As cats began hunkering down, sleeping near the warm fires or under bushes as pairs or trios, Wolfstar made her rounds to check on her clan mates. Burnpaw was tending the soup, adding in salt and toasted sage. Snowspeckle was speaking with some artisans, already settled down to rest. And Lynxpaw was tucked near Mousefoot and Rosedrift, eyes wide and head nodding.
Everyone seemed busy, perhaps she could sneak off to a spot outside of the clearing to nap. The brisk winds and barely there drizzle made the idea less than appealing, even the idea of trudging all the way back to camp for rest seemed better.
“Hey, uh hey Wolfstar,” Burnpaw interrupted her internal debate. “I saved a spot for you to rest.”
She glanced back not realizing she’d walked right by him in her contemplation. An older tom had taken over stirring, likely to relieve him for a nap, well deserved given how most of the other cooks had ditched him for games and socializing.
“Here it’s towards the edge over here.” He waved her over with his tail.
She trailed behind him, letting him lead her past the edge of the clearing into the thick woods. Just past the tree line there was a shallow dip in the dead grass and an evergreen bush, making a modest den between them. He stood beside the entrance as she inspected it, there were several small pelts already laid down and an unlit torch sat a few tail lengths in front of the entrance.
“Thank you.” She gave him a fond lick, earnest in her gratitude. It was perfect, far enough away, but well sheltered from the cold and lined with pelts for added heat. Even the ground around the torch was clawed away so only dirt and rocks encircled it. “You put a lot of effort here. I appreciate it.”
The red tom ducked his head to the side, dodging her praise and licks. His paws crunched the ground under him as he danced in place nervously.
“Well I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping the past couple moons so I figured you’d want a more secluded spot to nap.” He mumbled. “In case you have a bad dream.”
“What do you mean?” She asked, a chill sweeping up her spine.
“Huh?” He looked at her now, confusion pushing his nervousness back.
“How do you know I don’t sleep well? Or that I have nightmares?” She asked, eyes narrowed.
“Oh I don’t know, it’s just obvious I guess.” He shrugged.
“Do you hear me at night?”
“What? No never.”
“Do I seem more tired or upset?”
“Not really. I mean you seem tired but not like lethargic.”
“Then how do you know?” She wanted to hiss, feeing exposed and surprised.
“I don’t know.” He seemed helpless to explain himself, but her hackles raising seemed to give him the words. “I just know when someone isn’t sleeping well or if they have good or bad dreams. I just wake up and know ‘oh Wolfstar had a nightmare’ or ‘Lynxpaw slept deeply’. You know?”
“Have you always been able to tell someone’s sleep and dreams just like that?” She asked, feeling slightly better she wasn’t the only one.
“Yeah, when I lived in the apprentice den in Duskclan I could even guess what someone dreamt of. Like hunting or drowning.” He shrugged.
“Did Darkfold know?”
“Yeah but she told me to stop telling others, that it’s invasive and rude. So I try not to, but I can’t help it.” He sighed, like he was disappointed in himself. “She thought I’d grow out of it, like kits do when they sometimes see Starclan cats, I never told her I didn’t.”
That’s why he never said anything. She thought. Makes me wonder what Darkfold was hiding that she didn’t want him poking around.
Wolfstar had heard of cats who could walk dreams, but she’d always thought those cats would be clerics or at least spiritual. Burnpaw didn’t seem like the type, but maybe she should pay him more attention.
“Have you told anyone about my nightmares?” She asked, letting out a deep sigh and closing her eyes. Trying to will her heartbeat down.
“No, I didn’t wanna overstep.” He mumbled again, shifting awkwardly again.
“It’s alright. I didn’t know you knew, thank you for making me this nest.” She opened her eyes again and tried to smile. “Would you like to share tongues for a bit and rest?”
He smiled brightly, eyes squinting.
“Really? You’re ok if I stay?”
“Of course, you found the den you should be allowed to sleep here too.” She entered the brush, crouching low. She definitely preferred her den to the brushy walls, the smooth rock and solid trunk draped with lichen was spacious but easy to heat. But the low height was worth the privacy, she decided as she draped a pelt over herself.
Burnpaw lit the torch before he followed behind her, settling close so they could groom each other. She pushed her blanket back so he could work on her pelt as well.
They didn’t speak much as they groomed, working out tangles and smoothing wind blown fur. She felt herself calming down enough to actually rest, at one point she laid her chin on his paws, nearly asleep. His purrs quieted as he pulled the pelt over her again, staying sat up to watch the torch from their nest.
Wolfstar’s sleep is fitful and short, she’s almost bored with how predictable the sequence is. She’s in the dark, the acrid smell hits her, then the sounds overwhelm her ears, then she sees the odd eyes. If she wasn’t so gripped with involuntary fear she’d yawn. But the terror has an unshakeable hold on her like always and she’s panting and fighting to breathe.
“Shhhhh it’s okay, it’s me. Just breathe.” A squeaky voice purred in her ear. She went to swat at it but her paws felt like they were filled with sand, a nose pressed into her cheek fur. “You’re safe, breathe in and out.”
Slowly, she blinked, taking breathes in and out with him. Her mind faded into consciousness again and she pressed back against Burnpaw, their ribs pressed together.
The torch outside had dwindled a little, not much time had passed, most of the festival would still be napping or lazing about. She stared at the fire and breathed in her friend’s scent.
“Sorry.” Her voice was hoarse, had she been shouting?
“It’s ok.” He said quickly, pulling back slightly.
She sighed and rested her chin on her paws, staring out into the cold.
“Do you always dream about red and green eyes?” He asked, her head popped up.
“You saw it too?”
“Yeah.”
“What else did you see? I have the same nightmare over and over, maybe you saw something I missed.”
“Well it was dark and strange smelling, kinda reminded me of a monster. There was a lot of clanking and screaming from other cats.”
She fell back down with a sigh.
“Yeah that’s what I got too.”
The pair sat in silence for a while, until Wolfstar decided to get up and return to the festival. Together they bundled up the pelts and snuffed out the torch. As they reached the clearing she stopped him before he could rejoin the camp keepers.
“Thank you for resting with me, I really appreciate it.” She bumped her head against his, he tried to duck away but she circled around and bumped him anyways. They giggled for a moment before his face got serious. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone else is dreaming about red and green eyes.” He twisted his head around, eyes searching.
“Wait what? Who?”
“I don’t know, I can’t tell there’s too many cats.” He turned each way, as if it would help him ascertain who it was.
Burnpaw wandered around, looking for sleeping cats, they stumbled across many pairs and trios of cats sleeping.
“It’s no use.” He growled, surprising her with his intensity. “I can’t find it.”
“It’s alright, thank you for trying.” She couldn’t help the disappointment in her voice.
The rest of the festival was fun, she met up with her brother Greyclaw and played Red Fall for fish jerky. She spoke with Archstar again and told him she’d speak with his head artisan about what help Oakclan would contribute. The silver leader surprisingly gave in without a fight, just a grin on their face.
The skits put on my Oakclan’s apprentices was nice, telling the exaggerated story of the first lead Oakstar and his life before earning his nine lives. They had Tanglerfur play the role of Oakstar’s father, Oak, and Tawnyclaw played his mother, Moth. Otherwise the entire cast was apprentices.
Mousefoot and Lynxpaw spent most of the festival together, practicing clerical duties until finally Wolfstar had enough and dragged the apprentice away to gamble with her. They spent the evening playing Paw and Prey until the evening feast of roasted boar and stewed bird was served. Burnpaw joined them after serving his clan.
It was very late evening when the clan finally gathered their things and returned to camp. The kits already asleep and Shadowdive standing guard to greet them as they arrived.
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Leaf bare was in full swing when Wolfstar departs for the western most border. The half bridge and two leg place slowly coming into view as she crossed the rocky coast. Most of the sand is dark and coarse, with nearly black jagged rocks jutting out closer and closer together as she goes.
She stays well away from the waves, wishing she had better cover from the blistering winds, it tears through her pelt like claws. The cold keeps the sand wetter than normal and frosty too, she can feel herself sink into the sand each step with a loud crunch. The sound makes her flinch, grateful she isn’t hunting.
The tide pools Shadowdive likes to frequent makes her straddle the rocky cliffs, darting amongst the slick rocks carefully. It was here where Shadowdive sprained his paw, scavenging in the pools on an early leaf fall morning, frost making the rocks slick and dangerous. He was still nursing the injury, keeping weight off of it and taking his herbs like he was told, though Wolfstar suspects he’s a reluctant patient.
His injury has put them in a small bind, luckily Snowspeckle is able to hunt and work in his place while he kit sat for her. Still, without the powerhouse of a tom, the clan was eating more food than they could catch. Burnpaw and Snowspeckle hadn’t really been able to prep a lot of meat ahead of the freeze and what little they had stored was already being used to compensate.
Wolfstar and Snowspeckle were the last to eat, feeding the kits first, then the keeper, then cleric, then the reluctant Shadowdive, then themselves. It reminded her of the early days of Saltclan, hunger driving her forward, it gave her an edge to hone in and focus on her tasks.
For this morning, however, her only task was marking the western most border. Rarely did they have issues with loners over stepping, this area of the coast not desirable for most wanderers, but it was good to keep up the boundary. So once every other day, a solo patrol would head out, mark then return to camp for another assignment.
The white molly approached the large wall of rocks and edge of the half bridge. Truly a cat had to be lost or desperate to try and cross here, the rocks were difficult to scale even in warm seasons let alone with frost and snow. Even at low tide the waters covered up the underside to the half bridge, allowing the water to meet the rocky cliffs the two leg nest sat atop of.
The rocks and water stayed locked together for many tail lengths until finally on the other side, barely visible from where she stood, there was a break and the sandy coast was present again. No cat was swimming that distance without significant risk, same with the rocky slope, they had to come too close to the two leg nest and Honeyclan’s border to make the climb.
Wolfstar let her mind go blank as she marked a few spots.
Until the sound of paws steps traipsing around just above her broke her out of her musings.
She whirled around, hackles up as she kept her eyes on the tops of the rocks. A feline face finally peeked over the edge, mottled calico with bright eyes that locked on Wolfstar. The cat smiled widely and climbed closer to the edge, nearly falling over.
“Stop! You’re about to enter Saltclan’s territory, you must turn back now!” She called out, fur fluffed up and claws out.
“I know!” The cat called out, still smiling.
“Stop!” She snarled again, wishing she could pin the cat to the spot with her glare.
Thankfully the calico slows down and waits, eyes wide and watching.
“State your business.” She ordered.
“I’m here to join your clan!” The cat answered, now restarting their movements and making their way down.
“Um ok, uh why? Where do you come from and how did you know about us?” Wolfstar stumbled over her words effectively off balance. She’d never met a loner who was so…eager to join the clans.
“I used to live with my housefolk, but I left because I heard stories about the clans.” They said, coming closer, scent wafting over Wolfstar finally.
The calico smelled like a molly, though before Wolfstar could even respond, the cat cut in again.
“Don’t get any ideas! I’m a tom cat!” He glared, eyes sharp, losing that excited shine. Instantly Wolfstar wanted the jovial look back.
“Ok, I’m a molly. My name is Wolfstar, I’m leader of Saltclan.” She politely bowed her head, the cat perked up and smiled.
“Wow the leader! I’m so lucky I ran into you.“ He chirped. “You clan cats really are accepting of cats like me.”
“What shifted cats? Yeah, it’s pretty common.” She tilted her head in confusion. “Did cats not know that where you come from?”
The cat seems to pause.
“There wasn’t a lot of cats around my house, everyone laughed when I said I was a tom. Then they got mad when I kept saying it. After a while I got sick of the teasing and mean looks. So I left.” His voice was soft, barely audible above the winds. “I heard from some other cats about the clans and one of them suggested I join Saltclan. They said that you have medicine and herbs that could make me feel more like myself.”
“Really? Who?”
“Capri and her granddaughter Jade.” Finally the cat climbed down to the last large rock, only a small leap from being equal with Wolfstar.
Instantly, her face lit up.
“Oh! Capri and Jade sent you?” All tension left from her body. “I haven’t been able to visit them for a while, are they doing ok?”
“They’re fabulous and living out in the barn the twolegs keep their water monsters in. It’s very warm, I was tempted to stay but I wanted to come to Saltclan.”
“Well clan life isn’t easy, we have to hunt for our food and fight to protect our borders. It takes a lot of work and you’re coming to us in leaf bare, it’ll be especially tough. We’re a small clan, we can’t afford to shelter anyone who can’t contribute.” Wolfstar fell solemn, the delight she felt hearing of her friends shifted back to a serious tone. “Can you hunt?”
“I hunted all the time with my housefolk!” The cat boasted. “I was in charge of killing all the bugs that came into the house.”
Wolfstar wanted to sigh, the little glimmer of hope snuffed out. Still she may as well humor the tom before sending him back to Capri.
“Not quite the same, but how about we hunt together. If you catch something, you can stay. If not, you’ll need to leave.” She said firmly, expecting some pouting and arguing.
“Deal!” He seemed smug, like he’d already joined.
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He leapt down, crunching into the sand with his heavy body. Wolfstar took a moment to look him over, he had a heavy coat with a thick frame underneath, his paws were large. Other than his scent he looked like a tom cat either born or shifted.
She led the outsider back up the rocky walls, surprised he didn’t complain about having to traverse back up after just getting down. Once at the top they walked around the two leg nest and barn until they reached a small open field squished between the thunder path and more two leg nests.
It wasn’t the most substantial area to hunt on, but making the cat try to prove himself by fishing in the cold, frigid waters seemed unfair. The alternative was leading a stranger through the majority of the clan’s territory just to reach the grassy fields to the north east of their lands. The scrubby grass, battered by wind and carrion would have to do.
At the edge of the tall, dry grass she let him take the lead. He stalked fairly quiet, taking care to avoid patches that would crunch loudly. Once they reached the middle of the field they came to a halt, his nose twitching and ears moving. Wolfstar already knew what he was trying to hone in on, a large shrew, just a few tail lengths ahead was digging in the hard dirt.
It took a moment longer for him to finally pin point the prey, his ears swiveling to the exact spot. He launched quickly, quiet until he landed, crushing the grass and prey under him with a heavy paw.
The way he flaunted the shrew made her laugh, just like a kit who caught a feather, he flapped the limp prey at her as he passed. As she was about to scold him on treating prey well, he gentle placed the shrew down and covered it with a thin layer of dirt and foliage.
“Thank you little shrew. I’m sure you’ll be delicious.” He patted the mound with a wide grin before turning to her. “I think I heard a bird further up by the fence.”
He started to walk deeper into the field, but Wolfstar stopped him with a laugh.
“What?” He asked, immediately pulling back to her.
“Let’s head back to camp and get you settled.” She chuckled.
“Don’t you wanna see me hunt more?” He asked, genuinely confused.
Just like Shadowdive, she snorted.
“Deals a deal, you caught something, you can stay until we officially have you join the clan.” She explained, brushing the dirt off of the shrew. “Plus this isn’t our territory, it’s best to leave plenty of resources to the other predators that live around here.”
“Huh, I wouldn’t have thought of that.” He picked up the shrew.
“It’s one of our rules, there’s a lot of them. Once you join you’ll be expected to learn and follow them, we call it the warrior code.” She said, his mouth was full so the only response was his wide, bright eyes.
The pair trotted back to the rocks to enter Saltclan, taking their time down the slick rocks. Finally on the sand she turned to him.
“Before we go.” She stopped him from walking ahead. “You never said your name.”
He sat the shrew down to answer.
“It was Penny, but I’d like to take a warrior name like you.”
“What would you like to be named?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, still grinning. “You pick, you’re in charge.”
“Hmmmm.” She took a moment to appraise him, thinking through various combinations. Somehow thinking of a full name was easier than matching a prefix to a suffix, she had no idea what to name the kits or Burnpaw.
But with this cat, it seemed obvious.
“Fennelheart.” She said proudly, he cocked his head, likely not understanding the prefix.
But Wolfstar knew, when he got to the clerics den and received his first dose of shifting herbs, he’d understand.
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Fennelheart’s introduction into the clan went smoothly, the tom was confident and charming, greeting his new clan mates with a wide smile. He seemed particularly dazzled by Shadowdive, following him with reverence throughout the camp. Shadowdive, for his part, mostly ignored the new cat, but when they did speak he was surprisingly tolerant of the former kittypet.
Lynxpaw had started him on shifting herbs, primarily fennel, and seemed to like the tom’s banter. They would spend most of the evenings together, Fennelheart very curious about their medical abilities.
While Burnpaw was naturally shy and easily flustered, he didn’t complain as he explained fire and cooking to their newest addition. It helped that Fennelheart praised his cooking and was eager to help.
Since he was new, he wasn’t allowed to roam about the territory just yet, usually he’d go hunting with Wolfstar. He was a surprisingly good hunter, his fishing skills were lack luster, but the clan could live with more rodent and birds in their diet for a while.
The first few days had gone so well, Wolfstar was ready to official invite him into the clan, she only need to speak with her deputy.
“Do you think I’m being too hasty?” She asked Snowspeckle one morning, the pair on their way to gather crafting supplies by the abandoned nest. “What if I’m rushing this?”
The snow was piling up but the artisan had insisted she could find supplies. They pushed through the powdery snow, keeping a brisk pace.
“I don’t know if we can afford to take our time, we need the help. Lynxpaw still hasn’t cleared Shadowdive to return to his full work.” Snowspeckle replied.
“Don’t you think that should make us slow down? I mean, what if this was all planned? He shows up in leafbare when we need help the most?” She knew she sounded paranoid, but around the older molly she felt safe enough to voice her nervous thoughts.
“No offense to Fennelheart, but he’s not exactly the sneaky type. He still tries to eat raw prey.” She chuckled. “Plus didn’t he say he came to us to find tolerance and safety? Sounds familiar right?”
“Heh yeah, you’re right.” Wolfstar’s laugh turned into a tense shiver, breathing in the cold air too fast. “I’ll speak with Lynxpaw before the half moon, ask for her to reflect on his arrival during her visit to the moon spring.”
They made it to the old twoleg nest, it reeked of Duskclan, but the clearing was empty. While the snow was still banking in some spots, the large branches and old structure blocked most of it and they could paw at the bare ground.
“Great idea, now help me dig up these roots.” The artisan patted the dirt surrounding a young spruce tree.
The pair worked in pleasant silence throughout the morning and well past sun high. They only had to dig a few pawfuls down to pull up spruce roots for cordage. Then they found a downed birch tree, usually harvesting the white barked trees was reserved for new leaf, but the bark was much easier to peel now that it was felled.
While Snowspeckle inspected various rocks, Wolfstar took time to mark the borders.
“Ugh every time I come here the border is fucked up.” She hissed as she clawed a tree.
“I’m surprised we haven’t run into them, no matter what time I visit the border is remarked.” Snowspeckle added, digging a rock out of the cold ground.
“They have enough warriors they could send someone six times a day easily.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t shown up now, we’ve been here so long. It’s like they don’t want to fight.” Snowspeckle mumbled as she lift the rock into her basket. “Which is fine by me, we can’t afford any injuries.”
Wolfstar didn’t answer, she suspected she knew why they’d never encountered the other clan. Jaggedstar knew just as well as she did that Saltclan was at a vast disadvantage numbers wise. Duskclan could easily take out their patrols, even if they had the full clan. But they didn’t.
Her tail twitched and she wasn’t sure if she was angry or relieved at her mother’s hypocrisy.
“Well I guess we’ll just keeping praying to Starclan we don’t have a confrontation.” Snowspeckle eventually said, eyeing her stiff leader.
Wolfstar shook her coat out with a huff.
“I was gonna try to hunt but the place stinks of cat so much I can’t get a scent on anything.” She grouched. “Let’s head back.”
The walk back was quiet and slow, snow beginning to fall. Without any historians to help with weather predictions and patterns, the clan had no way to know when a snowstorm or blizzard would hit. The unofficial rule was when the snow starts up, head to the clan.
“Have you thought anymore about what role your sons would be best for?” Wolfstar asked as they neared the camp.
“I’ve been watching how they play and what stories they like, but lately neither of them seem interested in anything but whatever Shadowdive is doing.” She huffed. “I wish one of them would be interested in artisan work, but they are very uninterested.”
“I plan to ask them before their apprenticeship, but I think they’ll choose to be warriors.” The leader smiled. “In that case, Shadowdive will obviously mentor one. Do you want to mentor one too?”
“Oh stars no! I’ve done my time, it’s someone else’s turn to handle them.” She laughed deeply. “I know Shadowdive will be a good mentor.”
“I figured you’d wanna skip that, in that case I’ll obviously take the other one.”
“I’m glad, you’ll be good for them, you already are.”
The pair bumped heads, tails twined as they entered the camp. The only cat in the camp was Shadowdive, he had his injured paw in the tide pools, working on his stretches like Lynxpaw told him. Mousefoot had even visited to show him how to do them.
Wolfstar slipped her basket off her neck and sat it beside the unlit oven. She peeked into the cleric den, seeing Lynxpaw sorting herbs. Snowspeckle began to organize the supplies they brought back.
Wolfstar took a look into the apprentice den, expecting to see Burnpaw, when it was empty she quickly checked the warrior den. Inside he was curled up next to Fennelheart, their backs touching.
She glanced back to Shadowdive, still working on his paw.
“Where are the kits?” She asked.
He glanced up with a sour expression, the cold water making him grumpy.
“With Lynxpaw.” He said, Snowspeckle’s head popped up.
“Lynxpaw are the kits in there with you?” The queen called out.
“No? They were napping with Burnpaw and Fennelheart.” Lynxpaw stepped out of her cave.
Wolfstar entered the warrior’s den, the shouting slowly waking up both toms. She checked under the pelts, no sign of the kits.
“What’s going on?” Fennelheart asks as Burnpaw leaps to his feet, fur fluffed up.
“When did you last see the kits?” Wolfstar asked him, behind her Shadowdive ran to check the nursery and other dens.
“Before our nap, they were gonna join us but then they said they wanted to wait for Shadowdive.” He said stepping out to around the camp.
“They’re not in camp!” Snowspeckle cried, head whipping around. “Where could they have gone? Oh Starclan it’s snowing they could be anywhere.”
“There’s no outsider scents, but I can’t find a trail for the kits.” Shadowdive said.
Wolfstar leapt onto a large rock atop the warrior’s den.
“Everyone! Remain calm, the kits likely snuck out and have been gone a while.” She yowled, pulling the groups focus. “We must find them soon, we will pair up and search the territory.”
Pointing to each cat she began to pair them up.
Snowspeckle and Burnpaw.
Wolfstar and Lynxpaw.
Shadowdive and Fennelheart.
“Should someone stay here in case they return?” Lynxpaw asked.
“No its best for everyone to have backup just in case.” Wolfstar jumped down, eyes focused.
The teams set off immediately, Wolfstar and Lynxpaw headed east up the coast line and towards the abandoned nest. Shadowdive and Fennelheart up north filling the east river to the border. Snowspeckle and Burnpaw went west towards the half bridge.
Shadowdive moved slowly, his sprain painful in the cold, but Fennelheart didn’t seem to notice. The calico tom sprinting ahead in the flurry, he’d turn back when he was just out of sight. This pattern continued, he’d search ahead of the dark cat, returning back when called.
The pair slowly worked their way up the river before reaching the Duskclan border, it was difficult to tell based in scent, but Shadowdive recognized claw marks on the tree trunks.
“Follow the tree line, of we don’t find them before the twoleg nest, we’ll search the forest.” He ordered.
Fennelheart paused.
“That’s not what Wolfstar told us to do.” He hesitated.
“She can yell at me later, we’re finding those kits.” Shadowdive snarled, pushing past the calico to trudge through the snow, ignoring the stinging in his paws.
Fennelheart remained quiet as he ran behind the larger tom, paws crunching the thick snow. He sped past his companion, taking off down the border line.
“Shadowdive! Come here!” Fennelheart called out, Shadowdive hissed as he sprinted, pushing past his pain as he leapt over a snowbank.
Fennelheart was standing upright with his paws on the bark of a dead tree, his eyes locked on the upper branches. Shadowdive had to shake the snow out of his whiskers to see Otterkit clinging to the trunk.
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Getting closer he could see Ripplekit, the pair were practically covered in snow, yowling and crying.
“It’s ok we’re here!” Shadowdive called out, Otterkit’s head turned, big teary eyes locked on the brown tabby. “I’ll get them, be ready to help catch.” He ordered Fennelheart who nodded.
Gathering his frozen paws under him, Shadowdive launched himself up the trunk. The wood crunched under his weight, shaking the tree.
“Shit,” He spat, letting himself fall back to the ground, taking care not to land on his injured leg. “I’m too heavy.”
“Let me try.” Fennelheart jumped up the trunk, not getting far before the trunk began to splinter as well. He tumbled back down to the ground. “What do we do?”
“They’re up too high, damnit, you need to run and grab the others. As fast as you can go back to camp, at least one team should’ve returned by now.” His chest felt tight. “The storm is blowing from the south over the ocean, run into the wind and you’ll make it to the coast.”
If Fennelheart responded, he ran off too fast for Shadowdive to hear it. The brown tabby tom stayed at the base of the tree, eyes locked on the trembling kits.
“Shadowdive.” He could hear Otterkit’s sniffles.
“It’s ok brat, I’m here. You’re gonna be ok.” He tried to purr soothingly, but the rumbling comfort was lost in the winds. “Try to huddle together for warmth.”
Fennelheart ran fast south, the wing and snow stinging his eyes. His legs felt like ice and he could barely feel his ears.
It felt like he’d been running forever before he finally crashed into camp, so snow blind he didn’t even see it before tumbling over the walls. He landed with a grunt in the sand, coughing the grit up he scrambled to his feet.
“Fennelheart?” Snowspeckle yelped as he spun around, she and Burnpaw were the only team that’s returned. “What happened?”
“The kit-“ He coughed and gagged, Burnpaw stepped forward to help him. “They’re at the border up a dead tree, Shadowdive and I are too heavy to climb it!”
As the three left, they ran into Wolfstar and Lynxpaw, the final pair to return. Quickly they joined the group and followed the calico north.
It took a while to find the tree, they could barely see, but soon they could hear Shadowdive’s shouts. Gathering around the trunk, Wolfstar tested the trunks, it was shaky and easily swayed.
“Burnpaw, climb up to grab them, you’re the lightest of us.” She instructed him, he looked nervously between her and Snowspeckle. “Hurry, we can’t risk anyone else damaging it.”
Hesitantly, the red tabby began climbing, claws digging into the icy wood. He worked his way up the rickety trunk slowly. Otterkit clung to the trunk, unable to crawl to meet him, shivering so much he nearly lost his grip.
Burnpaw grabbed him by his scruff, alarmed by how cold he felt and tried to beckon Ripplekit closer. But the white kits eyes were screwed shut and he stayed frozen in place. Slowly Burnpaw climbed back downwards, holding the kit between his chest and the tree.
When he got close enough he passed the kit down to Lynxpaw who took him and ran back to camp with him and Fennelheart for treatment. Snowspeckle stayed behind, watching Ripplekit with wide eyes and circling the trunk.
With more confidence, Burnpaw climbed back up.
“Ripplekit! Ripplekit!” He called out, but the kit didn’t seem to hear him.
He crawled onto the branch more, but the wood crunched and shakes under his weight. He could hear gasps bellow him, but the shaking did make the kit’s eyes snap open. As soon as he locked on Burnpaw’s face, Ripplekit launched himself across the branch.
Burnpaw grabbed his scruff and yanked him down just as the tree began to shake and splinter. The two fell to the ground, Burnpaw managing to land roughly on his feet, still clutching Ripplekit.
The group flocks around him as Snowspeckle takes her kit and runs ahead home. Wolfstar following after her, leaving Shadowdive and Burnpaw to hobble home together.
Burnpaw felt like his entire body was sore and rattled, while Shadowdive’s sprain felt the worst it ever had. It was the first time they’d been alone together since Burnpaw had joined the clan. The tense silence punctuated by the stifling cold.
“That was good… what you did. That was brave.” Shadowdive finally said, surprising the apprentice.
“Th-thanks, that me-means a lot coming from you.” Burnpaw stuttered, the chill making his teeth chatter.
Shadowdive scoffed, jaw tense as he glared ahead into the snowy white. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Burnpaw wanted to argue, to say that it really did mean a lot that it was him who praised him. He wanted to tell the larger tom how brave he thought he was, how he climbed that tree because he knew it was what Shadowdive would’ve done.
But instead he let the words die in his throat, the world getting darker as night fell.
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That night, Lynxpaw treated the kits with warm soup and fire warmed pelts in her den. She put plenty of burdock root and fennel seeds in their bowls to help heat them up. Snowspeckle spent the evening grooming and rubbing them, to get their blood circulating.
Wolfstar cooked that night, making a quick rabbit and seaweed soup with prey Burnpaw had been prepping. Adding flax to thickened it up and warming herbs as well, she served the clan while they waited to be checked out by Lynxpaw.
Fennelheart’s body was sore and covered in bruises from his fall into camp, though he insisted her didn’t need any care and returned to the warrior den with his soup quickly. She still gave him some comfrey to place in his nest to help soothe his bruises. Burnpaw thankfully was uninjured, just some sore joints from his landing. Lynxpaw gave him some daisy leaf oil and heather honey.
Shadowdive’s wrist was swollen and hot to the touch, she gave him more herbs and placed a cooling balm of chamomile and lavender on it. He protested the treatment and even tried to go to his nest, but Wolfstar dragged him by his scruff back. The cooling balm was uncomfortable and he disliked how chilly it felt, but perked up when Wolfstar suggested everyone sleep in the nursery together to stay warm. Given how it was the most insulated den and had majority of the pelts, everyone agreed.
Gathering the clan inside, she kept Fennelheart, Burnpaw, and the kits in the center, her and Lynxpaw taking the spots by the entrance. Shadowdive ignored her suggestion to stay towards the back, instead pushing himself into her nest, pressing himself to her side purring loudly. Lynxpaw tucked herself in the nest on his other side, tucking her nose into her bushy tail.
Tomorrow, the kits will be scolded, made to explain why’d they’d done what they did and to promise never to do it again. Otterkit will cry and ask if they’ll not be made apprentices, only quieting down when Wolfstar steps in. Ripplekit will be extra quiet, complain his ears are too cold and sulk in the den.
But tonight, in the warmth of the den, the clan can breathe a sigh of relief.
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