#i got up at noon today which always makes the start of the day feel sour

[amyispxnk]

Grease and sweat

Summary - Another day, another venture out of the walls of the Boston QZ with Joel Miller. AKA, another day spent fantasizing about the burly man whom you spend most of your time with these days. When the two of you have to hole up for the night, things get a little heated, and you finally snap.

A/N: i started this oneshot like 6 months ago and finally found some random motivation today to finish it. and im not gonna spoil anything but like.. why has noone talked about this in a fic before? im literally salivating when he does this during the game and like.. yeah. idk. you’ll see.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT!! (oral f!receiving, unprotected PiV sex - don’t do this, especially during an apocalypse!, mentions of masturbation, lewd thoughts), language, age gap (roughly 15 years), firearms, pet names, fluff, aftercare

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“The fuck’re you lookin’ at, kid?” Joel practically spat, having noticed the way you were eyeing him whilst he worked.

You scoffed, walking up to the workbench he was currently using. Kid. You weren’t a kid. Sure, you were almost 15 years younger than him, but you certainly weren’t a kid.

“I’m 34, Joel. Not a kid.” You argued, leaning on the wall and watching him work.

He just grunted in response before resuming what he was doing before, starting with cleaning his pistol.

His fingers danced along the metal, digging into certain bits with the old rag he used to get any grime out, before he used the screwdriver to make a few adjustments to the handgun.

You never really understood how to do all the fancy things he did with his weapons, and you probably should considering how intently you watched him whenever the pair of you came across one of these old benches - but you couldn’t focus on the guns which were in his hands. His big, strong, rough hands. You’d trade places with those guns just to feel his hands on you like that. He took so much care of the damn things too, like they were the most precious things in his life. Always cleaning and repairing them like this, practically never letting you touch them.. What did those guns have that you didn’t? You thought to yourself as you watched him, gaze drifting to his fingers in particular. The ones you’d dreamt about far too many times, the ones you’d imagined inside of yourself rather than your own when you touched yourself. It was the way they moved, how thick they were, and how the veins in his hands and muscles flexed when he gripped his bow, and the way his arms would shine with his sweat as he worked. You’d lick the sweat off his body if he asked you to. Depraved as it sounds.

Not that you’d ever admit it.

Your absolutely maddening desire for and sickening crush on the man whom you knew close to nothing about. Just his name and a few things he revealed to you when the night was particularly long or the whisky he was having took a toll on his judgement, loosening him up for once. You knew where he was from, what his job was before, and you knew that he was basically just a grumpy old asshole who was only good for beating up guys when you went on supply runs.

He had never been overly kind to you, not that you needed it, had never asked you any questions, didn’t make small talk, and was a ruthless murderer.

You loved every single thing about him.

And you wanted to show him. You wanted him to love you back, no matter how he’d love you. You wouldn’t mind if he was a cold lover, a mean one - hell, he almost definitely was - you’d take him any way you could get him.

You looked back at his hands once more, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when he had to use his ring and middle fingers to clean out part of another gun, your thighs clenching together as you felt the all-too-familiar wetness start to form between them and making you groan when you realised you’d probably have to rub one out when you got back later. It was honestly annoying the amount of times you came by your own hand, his name on your lips, because you knew how much better it would feel if it was his thick fingers pushing into you, his big hands palming your breasts, his strong arms holding you down as he made you come over and over…

“Let’s get goin’.” He says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he tucks his gun away and slings his backpack on.

You push yourself off of the wall and follow him quickly, trying not to look flustered although you very much felt it.

He came to an abrupt stop when you reached your normal exit from this little pitstop en route to the guys who gave you weapons, and you almost walked face-first into his back.

“Joel? Wha-” you began, but he cut you off.

“This shouldn’t be closed.” He murmurs, like he’s talking to himself, not allowing you any time to respond before he’s going over to pull the chain which should open the garage door.

It doesn’t.

No matter how much he pulls on the metal, grunting and groaning and making your eyes flutter shut whilst you force your needy whimpers down with the noises he’s making, it barely opens, slamming shut every time he gets close to getting it open a quarter of the way.

“Fuck.” He grits, giving up and slamming his hand against the thing. It would be no use trying with that door anymore, the noise it was making was getting too loud anyway.

He stands there, clearly thinking hard about what to do. You can’t turn back because that would just lead you straight back to the QZ, which was useless to you right now, but you don’t have any other secured ways to get to your vendors - how could he have been so stupid to not plan ahead, he ridicules himself silently.

“Joel? What’s the plan?” You ask, getting slightly impatient with his constant silence. He may have been this hot brooding older man, but he could really leave you in the dark sometimes like this.

“Will you let me think, goddamnit?” He responds, clearly annoyed with your current predicament, scratching at his jaw before looking back up at you.

“Could try that window.” You suggest quietly, looking upwards. It was high and small, but you’d be able to get through it if he gave you a boost up.

He gave you a small nod before you both made your way up there and he got into position, hands outstretched and placed together as you got on and pushed yourself up. Normally, whenever he did this, you’d feel all dizzy afterwards from the proximity and his touch - but as soon as you looked out the window you were horrified. There were infected, just past the jammed door - and a whole lot of them. You weren’t getting past that. Forget the deal, you’d come back another day.

“Joel.” You say, not even realising you were whispering. He doesn’t answer.

“Joel! Joel, get me down.” You whisper-shout, and he furrows his brows.

“Why? What’s the matter?” He asks, and you have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes.

“Just get me down.” You say through clenched teeth, taking another look outside the window before he carefully lowers you. Of course, he boosts you up regularly, but he rarely ever tries to get you back down, so you stumble a bit and end up with your face against his chest as he falls back onto the wall slightly.

“Jesus, woman!” He grunts, but you don’t even try to move, you just look up at him with those fucking doe eyes of yours and it takes everything in him to not groan at the sight of you. God knows how many times he’s imagined you looking up at him whilst you sucked his cock, knelt on the floor with tears in your eyes and your hair all messy for him with your big eyes staring into his.

You open your mouth to speak, before realising the position you’re in and quickly standing up.

“I- there were infected outside, Joel.” You explain after a moment.

“So?” He questions you, squinting in confusion slightly. You’ve taken down infected before, no problem. What’s the issue today?

“No, like- I swear it looked like there were a hundred of them. Just this big fucking horde, right outside the garage door.” You gestured back towards the exit.

He clenched his jaw. Yeah, okay, you could take down some infected, not a hundred.

“Y’sure?”

“I’m fucking sure, Joel!” You almost yelled, way too many emotions going on in your body for you to act normal right now.

“Alright, alright, calm down.” He looked back outside. It was almost dark, there was no way you could get back to Boston in time now. It just wasn’t safe to go that far so late, and there was no point since you’d have to sneak by all the guards - who hopefully wouldn’t notice if you were gone for one night - to get back in.

“Go check all the doors, lock ‘em and then barricade ‘em. We’re gonna have to hold up here for tonight, then go back at dawn.” He decides, and you gape at him like a fish.

“We’re staying here?! Joel, what about curfew and the- the fucking infected right outside-” you start, but he silences you once again.

“We’re gonna be fine. When have things ever gone wrong for us since you started comin’ out with me?” He questions sternly, and you ponder it.

Never, really. He always saved you, and you’d save him when he needed it - even though it was only a handful of times he did.

“‘Kay, fine. Whatever.” You mumble stubbornly before turning round to go secure the doors leading to the small mechanic store you’d be staying in.

He looks around himself for any openings and closes them up before you both end up back in the main room.

It’s mostly silent as you look around at different things, poking at the ruined cars and whatnot whilst he sits on a crate and watches you as discreetly as possible.

“I have a question.” You say, turning to face him and making him snap his head away from you before you notice he was looking at you already.

He grunts to tell you to continue speaking, looking back at you when you do.

“Could you like.. show me how to fix up my guns and stuff? ‘Cause you always do it for me and I just thought it was.. Cool.” you murmur, trailing off at the end.

He actually lets out a small laugh at that. Not in a mean way, necessarily, just kind of teasingly.

“Cool?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, cool. It just- with all the attachments and shit. And I can never clean them properly.” You sigh, walking up closer to him. “Please? We’ve got nothing else to do.”

The sound of you saying please for him in that small voice wins him over. “Fine.” He gets up off the crate, walking back over to the workbench and flicking the light on before taking your gun from you. He talks you through it, shows you a little how to clean it before letting you try it yourself, and then he shows you how to add a scope to it. You can’t quite grasp it though, not being strong and precise enough to attach it properly, so he places his hands on top of yours and helps you screw it on.

The contact makes you shudder so violently that he definitely felt it, and you want to crumple into the ground.

“What was that for?” He murmurs, and you almost jump at how close he is now, voice loud and breath hot on the side of your face as he leans over your shoulder to look at the gun whilst he tries to help you.

“No-nothing.” You squeak, breathing at least ten times faster now.

He feels it. He knows. He has to know, you’d been so stupid and revealed it all now. Joel Miller was not an idiot and he knew how you felt and he’d hate you for it. Your thoughts spiralled.

“Nothin’, huh?” He taunts, a smirk pulling at his lips as he watches you slowly crumble. To make it worse, he turns you in his hold, so you’re pinned with your back to the desk and his hands on either side of you.

“Y’alright, darlin’? You look awfully hot. Don’t got a fever or nothin’?” He mumbles, seeing how far he can push you as he leans in closer.

“I-I’m fine.” You say quietly, mesmerised by the sight of his face so close as you notice little details you’d never noticed before, barely even realising his lips are so close to your own until he’s pressing them to yours.

You make a slight noise of surprise before you get lost in it. The feeling of his lips against yours was something you’d dreamed about for so long, and now it was finally happening.

Your hands come up and around his neck, pulling him closer towards you as he deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and overpowering you immediately as he pushes you back onto the workbench, sitting you on top of it and already working open the buttons of your jeans.

He kisses you one more time before getting to his knees and pulling your pants completely off, eyeing your panties, a dark patch in the middle of them from your growing arousal.

“Joel, please.” You whimper from above him as his hands run up your legs, coming to your inner thighs before toying with the elastic of your panties.

“Y’need me here, darlin’?” He asks, smirking up at you as his fingers move to rub slow circles into your clit through the fabric.

“Fuck!” You gasp at the contact, needy and desperate for him by this point. “Yes, please- please Joel.” You’re reduced to begging already, something you figure only he had the power to make you do.

He shushes you gently, fingers slowly peeling your panties down and groaning at the sight of your bare cunt, dripping and pulsing with need.

“Fuck, baby. Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin’ wet. This all for me?” He hums, dragging a finger up and down your slit, gathering your wetness on it and sucking it into his mouth as he looks up at you.

You whine at the sight of him between your legs like this, not knowing how you’re going to survive when he actually makes contact with you, and nod furiously.

“Yes, oh my god. Yes, it’s all for you Joel.” You say quickly, and he seems satisfied with that answer, finally moving his face to your core and making you squirm as his hot breath fans over your pussy.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’.” He murmurs, seemingly enraptured by the sight of you, staring for a few seconds and making you want to shift away again under his intense gaze, but he has an arm on you to make sure you don’t move.

And then he finally, finally, licks a long stripe up your pussy, tongue running along your wet folds. And you fucking lose it.

“Oh my god, Joel, please. Fuck- fuck, please, more-” you start begging, moaning loudly as he picks up the pace and continues to devour you, drinking down your wetness, and eventually kissing and sucking at your clit. His fingers, those thick gorgeous fingers you’d dreamed of for so long, tease your entrance before he’s pushing those inside, making you wail at the feeling of something inside of you, getting you closer to that release you were aching for by this point.

“Fuck, yes!” You cry out, thighs shaking slightly as you feel yourself getting close.

“That’s right, baby. You like that?” He asks, voice an octave lower as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight heat, tongue still working you over relentlessly.

“Please- it feels so good-” you whine in response, fingers grasping for something to hold onto, to tether yourself to earth with as you feel yourself start to float away. Finding his hair and tugging slightly which makes him groan.

“Good girl.” He praises, adding another finger. He curls his fingers, searching for your g-spot and finding it easily.

You moan weakly at the praise, hips bucking as you grind yourself against his mouth, the ridge of his nose stimulating your clit perfectly as your fingers pull at his hair, and before you know it, you’re coming with a hoarse scream of his name.

You see white as your thighs quiver around his head, tensing and squeezing slightly as he continues to work you through it, lapping at your juices until you cry out from the overstimulation.

He removes his fingers from your hole, licking them clean once more before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his hard cock and making your eyes widen slightly.

Of course he was big, you’d stared at the bulge of his jeans enough times to realise that, and you’d imagined it before, but it all paled in comparison to finally seeing it.

He was long, slightly curved, girthy with a flushed red tip which had precome leaking out of it as he pumped himself slowly with a smirk on his face.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” He hums teasingly, and you can’t even think straight anymore, just pulling him forward and kissing him hungrily as he positioned his cock at your slick entrance.

Needy little whines and whimpers flowed freely from your mouth straight into his, where he swallowed them whole before starting to push into you.

You part from the kiss suddenly, gasping as he pushes deeper and deeper, stretching you thoroughly, and you feel grateful that he has the decency to start off slow since you already feel like crying from how big he is, how fucking good it feels.

When he bottoms out, you’re already wrecked. He’s huge inside of you, and you can feel everything. Every single ridge, vein, and twitch of his pulsing cock as your walls hug him tightly.

“Y’okay?” He murmurs softly, making your heart swell at how tender he sounds right now, and you nod in response.

“Joel.. please move.” You whisper, and he complies, grabbing your hips and barely giving you a moment to think before he’s starting to pound into you, making you squeal as your arms came around his neck, nails digging into his back before his head ducks down into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point and making you clench harder around him, before moving down to your breasts, palming them and taking one of your nipples into his mouth as you scream his name.

“Joel! I’m gonna- gonna come- oh god, please!” You cry out, back arching. He growls, picking up the pace. He could feel his orgasm building, but he needed you to come first, needed to feel your tight walls clenching and gushing around him before he even considered his own pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Give me one more and I’ll fill you up. Fuck this little cunt full of me.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says, voice low and husky as his balls slap against your ass, the loud sound of your wetness filling the room as you start to tremble once more.

“Yes! Fuck, Joel. Need it so bad. Want your come inside of me. Please, Joel.” You gasp, making him groan as his fingers move down to rub at your clit.

“Come for me, baby.” He encourages, speeding up even more and hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, making you scream as you come and dissolve into a shaking, whimpering mess whilst he continues to thrust into you.

“That’s it, darlin’. Come all over my cock.” He grunts, his own release approaching quickly. The sounds of your moans and cries are enough to set him off, barely thrusting a few more times before stilling and filling you with his hot seed, slowly fucking it even deeper inside of you before pulling out and looking at you.

Skin flushed, panting heavily, come leaking down your thighs. You looked perfect. He wished that cameras were still around so he could take a picture of how you looked right now, keep it in his pocket wherever he went. But he couldn’t, and he realised you probably needed cleaning up now as your hazy eyes blinked open and looked at him. You were quiet, thinking about what this meant for the two of you now. Would he go back to being the cold man you knew? Would he be even colder? Would he suddenly be attentive and caring towards you?

You supposed you got your answer when he gently cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he looked at you with something scarily close to love in his eyes, the gaze he’d somehow managed to conceal from you all these months which he could now finally show you.

“You okay?” He murmurs, and you nod weakly in response. He hums, giving you another small kiss before walking off to go get a rag to clean you up with.

“Hold on, let me just..” he mumbles to himself as he goes to try clean off any dust from the rag, before returning to between your thighs and cleaning away any evidence of your previous activities, tossing the rag somewhere and handing you your clothes. You get dressed quietly before he takes your hand and leads you over to a space on the floor where you set up your sleeping bags, putting them as close together as possible until he eventually just lets you tuck yourself into his, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and falling asleep.

You listen to his soft snores, feel his calloused hands on your stomach where they snaked under your shirt before he fell asleep, and smile to yourself softly before falling asleep with him.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and my requests are open 💞

[zebracakesarecopingmechanisms]

creature moment

[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[sku11s1asher]

idk if you do poly relationships but can you do a wrio and neuvi cuddle/movie night?

neuvillette & wriothesley x nb/male reader

notes: gulp… pretend i didn’t neglect yall for months! i had a rough patch mentally, but im now starting to get into writing again so yay!! ill post an apology for you guys, make up sex or whatever you guys want idk im on my knees begging for forgiveness 😓 ily (say it back)

cw: ooc wrio + neuv (or are they just in love?)

Neuvillette and Wriothesley, two of the hardest workers in Fontaine, at least in your opinion. Every time they came home, they were beyond tired, barely undressing themselves before joining you in bed at 1 in the morning, just to wake up in a couple of hours. The cycle was as tiring for you as it was for them, you rarely got to see your lovers, and when you did all you saw was them on the verge of passing out.

It wasn’t like they didn’t try to make it up to you though. When they got an off day, which was rare, they would always show you how much they loved you in different ways: sex, cooking, cuddling, dates, etc. Today was surprisingly one of those off days, you expected to wake up by yourself with just the leftover warmth from them next to you but instead, you woke up with a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You let out a yawn as you opened your eyes, you could see a mop of black hair lying on your chest.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you tried to sit up, only to get pulled back down. “Don't move.” a deep voice mumbled. “Wrio?” you asked in a sleepy voice, one of your hands going to rest in his hair. You looked toward the window, you noticed Neuvillete staring outside, drinking a cup of tea. You felt more confused than ever, why were both of them home? It's not like you were complaining about it, you were glad, just confused. It wasn't your birthday, nor either of theirs, and it most definitely wasn't your anniversary.

“What are you guys doing at home?” you asked Neuvillete while your hand subconsciously started petting Wriothesley's hair. “Have you already forgotten? I marked it in the calendar.” Neuvillette responded in an amused tone, slightly turning to look at you. He loved the way you looked when you first woke up, eyes all droopy, hair messy, that cute confused look on your face, how your voice dropped a bit, just everything about you. “I would never forget anything you said.” you lied while flopping back on the bed, and going back to sleep.

—

When you finally woke up, it was noon, there was still someone right next to you. A groan came from you as you pushed them away, you could tell it was Wriothesley by the way his deep voice said some complaint. “It’s 12 in the afternoon, I’m getting up.” You told him as you tried to get up, only to feel a hand grab your arm. “Five more minutes, please?” He begged, gently pulling you back. But before you could respond or he could open his mouth to try to persuade you anymore, the door to the bedroom opened, prompting the both of you to look towards it.

“Both of you need to get up,” Neuvillette spoke, “shower then come to the living room. The movies are ready, I'll start the popcorn when you both decide to join me.” Once he walked out, Wriothesley sat up in bed, prompting you to fall off him. You looked up at him as he rubbed his eyes, he looked so cute, almost like an actual puppy. You decided to get off the bed, stretching as you stood up, letting out a small groan. You walked to the dressers, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and clean boxers before heading to the bathroom. Halfway through your shower, the door opened and the sink turned on, you didn't have to look to know it was Wriothesley.

When you finally got out of the bathroom, you could hear popcorn popping which made you quickly go to the living room. It looked like Wriothesley made Neuvillette his new cuddle victim, the black-haired male had his head on Neuvillette's lap while his hands were lightly touching the other male's leg. “Hello, dear,” Neuvillette greeted you, turning his head towards you with a soft smile, “I’ll go get the popcorn then we can start the movies. Take a seat.” You made your way over to the couch, letting out a soft chuckle when you saw Neuvillette gently take Wriothesley off his leg. Wriothesley scooted over on the couch, pulling you into the spot next to him.

—

A bowl of popcorn was on the table in front of you, Wriothesley was lying across both your and Neuvillettes laps, while your head was leaning on Neuvillette’s shoulder. The movie that was playing was a random comedy that you weren't really focusing on. Instead, you were focusing on how Wriothesley was playing with your hand: lacing and unlacing it, squeezing it, making shapes on it, laying it on his stomach, all types of things. You slightly moved your head, getting a small glance at Neuvillette, seeing how he was engrossed in the movie. He looked so handsome from this angle, like a true angel. His hair was up in a ponytail, he had a relaxed look on his face which came with a slight smile, no makeup on, just looking amazing.

Neuvillette looked at you, gently moving your head to kiss you, “You stare a lot.” he teased before letting you go back to your previous position and turning his attention back to the movie. He always knew when to catch you off guard, he loved seeing the slight blush on your face and how your body got slightly warmer. A small chuckle came from Wriothesley, “This movie is pretty hilarious.” he stated, which made Neuvillette hum in agreement. “You laugh at the corniest shit, Wrio.” you teased, pinching his stomach. “Yeah, I always laugh at your corny jokes.” he countered which made you pout. “Rude,” you mumbled before finally turning your attention back to the movie.

You were on the fifth movie, the popcorn long gone but neither of you felt like moving to get more. You felt yourself start to get tired, slightly moving yourself to get comfortable before letting out a soft sigh. You felt content, your boyfriends had you practically trapped in between them, their scents surrounding you, and both of their bodies were warm, it was true heaven. You felt your eyes slowly start to close, you didn't feel like focusing on the movie anymore, or anything for that matter. Wriothesley was quiet, not making any comments or a chuckle anymore, which meant he was most likely knocked out. Right before you fell asleep, you felt Neuvillette’s head slightly drop on yours and heard his breathing even out. Looks like all of you are going to sleep on the couch tonight.

[earthtooz]

x : DON'T GO :*+ﾟ

in which: blade has always felt cold, but even more so without you.

warnings: 1.9k words, HURT/COMFORT with a sprinkle of angst, gn!reader who calls blade 'ren' once, mention of blood, ooc!vulnerable!blade, he's like a kicked puppy in this one

a/n: perhaps the most intimate piece i've wrote to date, this is nothing but pure yearning and longing on blade's behalf, and a nice fix-it fic with the most vulnerable i think blade could ever be. enjoy!!

in his new life, blade has always felt cold.

he is not spared from the constant feeling of goosebumps prickling his skin, not even for a second as the cold bites the tip of his fingers and sink their teeth into him to send shivers up his spine. but he has never felt colder than he does right now. 

your side of the bed is untouched, perfectly made, and devoid of any indication that you had been there. the blankets and mattress are cool to touch, with hardly any wrinkles in the sheets, and an ache declares itself home in blade’s chest.

the sun spills on his bare skin when he kicks the covers off, illuminating his scar-ridden chest as he gazes around the room, as if waiting for an sign that you were still here, and that he wasn’t too late. however, an immediate soreness tickles his throat that causes him to wince, serving as a reminder of the unpleasant discourse you had last night. 

it was hardly over anything of importance, but blade, a man of pride and relentlessness, had refused to back down, and you went to bed angry that night. he did too but woke regretful and cold under the covers, your warmth taken with you.

today was the day you had to leave for a mission, and although he knows you have a strict schedule to follow, he just wonders why you couldn’t have woken him up to say goodbye, especially after everything. 

he didn’t even get to say sorry or try to at least make amends. the swordsman only hopes you didn’t leave furious with him, and that you at least had something to eat before leaving.

to distract himself from the heartache, blade forgoes lying around and decides to start his day before the absence you left overwhelms him and the only thing his mind can do is think about you. 

not that he’s successful, because despite dedicating a monotonous afternoon of drilling sword techniques, the rampant thoughts about you did not decrease. rather, with each swing and sway of the cracked blade, his mind finds more and more to think about, with you at the epicentre of all of them.

it’s sometime around sunset when blade receives update on your status.

the swordsman is sat on a stone ledge, gold rays from the sun spilling on his skin as he waits for the sweat and fatigue to roll off. blade thinks of how you’d normally be seated nearby, watching him train to supply water and energy bars. although he never used to like the company or the doting, it doesn’t feel the same without you beside him, he misses you and wonders when you’ll return. 

“how long have you been here?” a raspy, female voice asks, breaking blade’s train of thoughts.

“since noon,” he responds merely. he doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s kafka talking to him.

“right. makes sense. i thought you’d be lonely since y/n’s gone.”

“need you remind me?” he huffs, voice teetering a threatening gruffness that would make ordinary people shudder, but does nothing to kafka.

“oh, spicy today, aren’t we?” she coos, ignoring the immense pressure radiating off blade effortlessly before taking a seat beside him. “what’s up? is there trouble in paradise?” a scoff comes from the swordsman. “i was only joking, did something really happen between you two?”

“none of your business.” 

kafka shrugs before her phone begins vibrating violently. when she reads the notifications, her face pulls the closest expression to concern that blade has ever seen her wear. 

“y/n got ambushed.”

his world freezes over.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the sunlight is gentle in blade’s eyes when he wakes up.

clothes are strewn on the floor, bedsheets are half off the bed, ceramics lie in pieces along the cracks of the planks, and despite the mess blade has made of your shared space, he is the most crumpled of them all. a kaleidoscope of volcanic anger, tsunamic worry, and mountainous yearning, the only place that has remained untouched by blade’s destructive touch is your side of the bed, lest your scent disappears. 

it’s been five days since anyone has received a live update from you, only hanging on to tracking notifications of your spaceship as any indication that you were fine. for the duration of it, nothing has been able to calm him, with kafka and silver wolf needing to stun him before he could do anything brash, like running off into the infinite cosmos to find you.

elio’s promises had never felt emptier, his constant claims of how you’d return very soon turning into dust in blade’s ears because how could he hold on to hope when you are alone amongst the stars? 

his texts are left delivered, but never read. in fact, it has been five days since your contact displayed to be online, and he finds himself staring at it in case that the circle will illuminate green, that you’ll give him some sort of update on your liveliness. 

so that you’ll see how sorry he is and all he wants for you is to return home. 

he doesn’t remember when he became so dependent, but perhaps this is another cruel punishment from fate with another inconceivable price of repentance.

for someone as unforgivable and despicable as blade to love means to mutilate the universe with aftershocks that tear through boundaries of what’s possible. for a man like blade to rebel, it means that the consequences will return tenfold.

and there is no crueller damnation than tearing you away from him. 

he turns on his side, arms reaching over to where you would normally lie, and dozes off again, feeling colder than ever.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

blade wakes up a second time. the sun is no longer the thing that awakens him, but rather, the sound of footsteps that echo outside the bedroom. disgruntled and still trying to gather his bearings, he shoots awake at the sound of your door opening.

you stand on the other side.

is this a dream?

“oh,” you breathe. you sound winded, caught off guard by the sight of your lover who stares at you like a bewildered deer. “i’m sorry, i didn’t think you would be here.”

he doesn’t say anything, just merely looks at you, unnervingly unresponsive.

you look miserable. fatigue clings to your skin like a second skin, your eyes lack the brightness they usually have, and you are, evidently, very battered and bruised, blood staining your ruined clothes. 

but you are like sunlight, and blade thinks he can breathe again. 

“i guess i’ll leave,” you murmur, interrupting blade’s momentary assessment.

“don’t.”

turning back around, the swordsman is now slowly stalking towards you, seemingly teleported from the bed to halfway across the room in the blink of an eye. 

“is something wrong?” you ask and he holds back a scoff from the irony of your question. he’s the one that should be asking that, not you. 

but yes, there is something wrong; you left him alone. you went somewhere he couldn’t and then made him feel helpless because he didn’t know whether or not you were going to come back, stranded in the cosmos forever. 

stopping before you, his hands gravitate upwards with the magnetic need to touch you, to ensure that you were real and not some figment of his hazy imagination. blade raises a hesitant hand to sit on the back of your neck and the frostiness of his fingertips causes a shiver to run up your spine. gently, he presses you for a pulse and visibly gulps when he finds it, suffocating you in the tense silence that has occupied the air (you’re real, and you’re okay, delivered back to him in one piece).

then, he looks at you with the saddest expression you have ever seen him wear before engulfing you in his embrace. the stellaron hunter is hesitant with his touch, hovering around you in fear of overstepping, for blade would never forgive himself if he were to scare you off again. 

because you’re finally back where he can reach, and he never wants you to leave. 

“ren?” you pause, gently wrapping your arms around his waist and closing the gap he left, meeting him halfway. the little action floods him with endless relief. “what’s the matter?”

he shakes his head against you and his hold tightens mercilessly, squeezing all air out of your lungs. 

“you had me worried,” he confesses, no louder than a whisper because otherwise he would crack under the weight of his own words. the constant fear that has plagued him for the last few days would finally break him and he’d be in shambles in your arms, making a mess of something gorgeous with something hideous. 

so instead, he will continue simply holding onto you where you are safe. in his arms, you cannot leave, you cannot go places that danger you, and you cannot break his heart and choke him with the emptiness of your presence.

“i’m sorry,” you say, rubbing his back and he tugs you closer. “i didn’t mean to worry you, everything jus-”

“-you left without saying goodbye.”

you’re silent and guilty, but so beautiful. “i thought you didn’t want to see me. we were pretty mean to each other before i left,” you say after a second of contemplation. “i didn’t know where we stood, i wasn’t sure if you still wanted me.”

whatever is left of his heart breaks, crumbling into shambles that ring at your feet. there are a multitude of things that blade wants to say, yet no words come to fruition, to his dismay. he wants to offer you the comfort and promises you want to hear, and he wants to express the overwhelming relief he feels, but he can’t, and he curses his own inability to be heartfelt. 

instead, his grip around you tightens, like you’ll slip away otherwise and have him search for you throughout the cosmos. 

“don’t do any of that again,” he pleads instead, hoping that you’ll understand. “i beg of you.”

“okay,” you breathe. “i won’t.”

“don’t leave like that,” he tugs at your ruined shirt, grasp gentle and careful in fear of scaring you away with the intensity of his emotions that are hanging on by a thread

“i wont.” 

“please don’t go.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

blade sighs, nodding. you smile at him and it feels like a warmth powerful enough to drive the cold away. 

“but first, i need a bath,” you murmur, placing your hands on his chest to push him away. “please, keep your distance, i’m pretty sure i reek.”

he doesn’t say anything and clearly doesn’t listen, because instead of letting go, he simply leads you to the bathroom without ever unwrapping his arms. soon, the bath begins to run, and the sound of water streaming down ceramic echoes off the tiles, but the warmth of your laughter and tired words overpower it. blade sits at the edge, nothing but an oversized shadow that watches as you relax in the water, frowning when he catches the frequent bruise or fresh scar. 

afterwards, you both stumble onto the bed (careful to avoid the mess that blade as made, which you scolded him for, and he listened dejectedly before promising to clean it all up), and blade reaches over to your side, chest warming when he finds your figure to tug close. 

you fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. your lover, on the other hand, stays awake for a few moments longer, simply trying to commit you to memory. 

“don’t go,” he repeats, tugging at your shirt as the evenness of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep.

he doesn’t feel cold anymore. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[truthfulpoint]

I just “unknowingly” fucked my gf’s best friend

Edit: story is split into 3 sections

1. Some background and context

2. The story

3. Where things get wild

Also sorry it’s really long. This just happened to me and I didn’t want to miss anything so I just typed as I recalled what happened. Also sorry for any errors, I didn’t proof read anything.

Some background and context:

I work mid shift at my work currently (11pm - 7am) so I have these not so great black out curtains that I don’t really use but I also have a sleep mask that I use a lot as it helps me stay asleep.

I have “jokingly” asked my gf a couple times if she’d be interested in a 3 some with one of her friends a couple times just feeling out how she would respond and she always said no without any hints of a maybe.

I have a couple kinks that my gf is well aware of. I love stockings/pantyhose/tights, whatever you want to call them. Idk why I just think they are sexy and I like the feel/look of them. I also really like being woken up into sexual situations. I’m always super horny right when I wake up and told my gf I would love to wake up to my cock in her mouth which has happened a couple of times but not often due to my gf not being horny throughout the day, only around the evening. Lastly we have restraints tied to each corner of the bed that my gf and I enjoy very much. We both use them on each other and pair it up nicely with my sleep mask.

I live in a one bedroom apartment. We have a queen size bed with a bathroom outside the bedroom and a living room on the other side of the bedroom wall. Our kitchen is attached to the living room. We have a decent sized couch in the living room as well

This happened today as I’m writing this about an hour ago and I don’t know what to make of it or if I should confront my gf about it and ask her (giving away the fact that I know what really happened)

My gf and I went to the same high school but never saw/talked to each other. We didn’t really know the other existed until a year after we graduated through a mutual friend

The story:

So my gf (let’s call her Sarah) had one of her best friends from high school come visit and stay with us for a couple days (let’s call her Kate). I was crushing on Kate hard in high school but never told anyone or made a move. Kate is about 5’4” with an athletic build. She played soccer so she had a nice toned ass and was very fit. She had long black hair and very pretty green eyes. She flew in Thursday morning and is leaving Monday morning. Sarah told me the plan, they were doing something everyday like going to the beach or downtown and I had my own plans so it was going to be a great time for the two of them to catch up.

Me and Sarah got Kate from the airport around 10am Thursday and got to our apartment. Kate said she was tired and didn’t want to go out and do anything so we just hung out for a bit and I had to go to sleep at noon because I had to be at work that night. I make my self some sleepy time tea with melatonin in it like I always do before bed bc it helps me stay asleep. Then I go to bed like normal while they are catching up in the living room. I wake up and start getting ready for work. I go to the bathroom to shower and see that Sarah and Kate are still talking but there are a few drinks on the coffee table next to them and they seem to be whispering and giggling more than just catching up.

I shower and then make sure to help get Sarah get Kate’s bed (the living room couch) all set up to sleep in. I say bye and go to work. I get off work and head home. It was a rough day and I just need to get some sleep. Normally I try to pull through and stay up until noon to stay on a schedule but often times I’ll pass out right when I get home. I open my apartment door and the first thing I see is Kate.

She laying down sideways on the couch with the blanket over her fast asleep. I try to be quiet as it’s 7:30am and I don’t know how late they stayed up. I keep looking at her thinking about how attractive she is. Fantasy thoughts come across my brain. I think what if I just came up and started eating her out or fingering her. I think it but I would never actually do anything like that. I’m very respectfully of my relationship and I would never do anything without consent but the sexual though keep rushing over me.

I brush it off and go to the bedroom, Sarah is sleeping too so I quietly get a change of clothes out the dresser and go to the bathroom to shower. I normally come out the bathroom in just my underwear but knowing we have company I put shorts and a shirt on too. I get out and go to the kitchen to make some sleepy time tea and see that Kate is already awake. The blanket is over her still with one arm under it and the other arm over it holding her phone. I guess I was more hornet than I thought bc I immediately pictured her touching herself under the blanket. I say good morning and ask if my shower woke her up.

She said no she didn’t even hear the shower she just woke up naturally. I start boiling water in the tea kettle and ask if she wants any tea. She says “sure what kind do you have?” As she gets up and starts walking into the kitchen. She’s wearing a baggy oversized t shirt and I’m assuming some short athletic shorts that I can’t really see bc the shirt covers them. I can tell she doesn’t have a bra on immediately and try not to get caught looking. I do t know about bra sizes but I’d guess Sarah has C cup. They are pretty decent size but Kate’s are definitely bigger. Not by a lot but bigger.

Kate walks over and I open the pantry saying “pretty much just sleepy time and normal green tea”. She stands in front of me looking into the pantry and I can smell her hair which smells amazing. She slightly leans over to grab the green tea and I can’t help but look at her ass that’s still so pronounced even though her shirt is draped over it. “I’ll just have the green tea then” as she hands me the green tea box.

I make the tea and we sit together on the couch enjoying it. Just small talk the entire time. Not any hints of any sexual undertones or anything. So I finish my tea and tell her I’m going to bed. I put everything away and go to bed. I stripped to my underwear, put on my sleeping mask and fell asleep.

Where things get wild:

I wake up not knowing what time it was (I’m assuming around 8pm bc that sleepy time tea really works at keeping me asleep). I can immediately tell that my underwear is off and I’m restrained. My legs and arms are spread apart and tied to the bed. I pretend to stay asleep as I know that this means sexy time. I woke up with a full on boner and no way was that going down now that I knew what was coming. I don’t move or make any noise or change my breathing but I can tell it’s still pretty lit up in the room by natural light through a crack in the sleeping mask by my nose. I can only see a sliver of my surroundings and only when looking down towards my nose.

I want to look around and see if my gf Sarah is about to go down on me but I do t want her to think I’m awake so I stay still and wait. That’s when I hear the faintest whispering from the living room. Right away I remember that Kate is here so my head gets thrown into confusion

“Is my gf going to do this with her in the apartment?”

“Is Kate going to leave the apartment for a bit”

“Am I supposed to try to be quiet when I pretend to wake up”

A wave of confusion rushes over me as I’m trying to figure it out.

I can tell that there’s two sets of whispers so I know no one is in the bedroom. I take my chance to look around without my head making too much noise on the pillow. First thing I see is my dick has gone soft after the wave on confusion hit my brain. Second thing I see is that the bedroom door is wide open! This blows my mind. “How could Sarah leave the door open??? What if Kate saw me?” Nothing else in the room seems off so I lay there and wait.

I hear the front door open and then close so I think ok Kate is probably going on a walk for a bit. Ok everything makes sense to me now and I can relax and enjoy what my gf is about to do to me. I hear her walk into the bedroom and sit next to me on my right side. She grabs my still soft cock and starts playing with it and stroking it. My gf Sarah is also 5’4” with an athletic build just not as skinny as Kate. Sarah has very small hands so it feels amazing wrapped around my cock and makes it feel bigger than it actually is. It feels good but I’m debating internally when to stop fake sleeping.

She leans over from my right side and slowly puts the tip of my cock in her mouth. It feels amazing! The warmth and the wetness of her mouth. I can feel her lips wrapped around my head and her tongue slowly going back and forth. My dick gets bigger and bigger in her mouth. She moved her hand from the top by her mouth to the base of my cock and then puts all of me in her mouth. I let out a moan. The cover is blown now. She keeps going all the way up and down. I keep letting out soft moans and start wiggling my legs around a little. It feels amazing and I want more.

Now that she knows I’m awake I feel way more free to move around so I decide to try and watch her suck on my cock through the crack in my mask but she moves right before I could look. She put her left leg over me and when I look all I can see is smooth skin right in front of my face. She is in 69 position and I’m all about it. I can feel her feet on my arms which is how I found out she’s wearing pantyhose. Right away that turns me on even more as she plants her pussy right on my mouth. I get to work and start licking her up and down. Then flat tongue going side ways on her clit. While all of this is happening she’s sucking my dick like never before. It feels amazing.

Normally when my gf and I 69, she stops sucking me after a while and lets out a couple moans of pleasure from what I’m doing. This hasn’t happened as she keeps sucking. One hand holding the base and the other holding my balls. I feel like I’m going to cum soon it’s too good. My jaw starts getting sore so I switch to penetrating her with my tongue. I slid my tongue inside her and it doesn’t taste how it normally does. That’s confused me for a second but I think nothing of it and instead concentrate on how tight she feels around my tongue.

She stops sucking when I put my tongue in her and lets out a moan. Very hot but her moan immediately makes me question if this was really Sarah. Everything started to seem like it was connecting. The blowjob felt better than usual, her pussy tasted sweeter, her moan didn’t sound like Sarah’s normal moans, and now I feel like I can smell Kate’s hair. I don’t know if I’m overthinking it or if I’m just imaging/fantasizing that it is Kate and choose to ignore it for now while I’m eating her out.

She gets off me and goes to my nightstand that has condoms in it, pulls one out and puts it on me. I can see her hand putting it on but not much else. At this point I’m like 70% certain that this is Kate which has me going wild inside. And just the thought I might get to fuck her has sparks flying inside. She gets on me revers cowgirl about to slide my cock inside her and that’s when I get the best view. I see her ass hovering over my dick. I can see she’s wearing thigh highs that go up to the crevasse her ass makes on her thigh. They are so smooth and have a lace design at the top. I pan my view up and see Kate’s black hair up in a bun and her slim figure over me.

Before all the questions about how or why this is happening rush in she sits on my cock. No waiting or beating around the bush she shoves me inside of her like that’s the only thing that’s been on her mind for the past week. I can feel her pussy gripped around my cock. She’s so tight, tighter than my gf. It’s very warm and wet. She’s so wet it slid in no problem. We both let out a moan as we were sharing this amazing feeling together. I can’t stop looking at her ass planted on me. Her body is amazing and I want her. I feel her lean forward and grab my ankles. She starts riding me like the good girl she is. A perfect tempo not too slow or too fast. I’m watching her dripping from her pussy as my cock keeps sliding in and out. Her moans alone would be enough to make me cum. She sounds so sexy and I love knowing that she’s enjoying it.

I keep moaning too and start talking dirty to her. I tell her to keep going just like that. Just like the good little slut she is. She loves it and moans louder and louder. I keep telling her she’s my good girl. I want to break these arm restraints more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want to grab her ass and waist and take control but I can’t. She has all the control right now. Her moans get louder and longer which make me go crazy. Her pussy sliding up and down my cock has brought me to my limit. I can’t possibly hold it in anymore no matter how hard I try. And I dont want to. I don’t want to try to think about something not sexy to delay it. I want to stare at her ass bouncing on my cock when I come. Where I am is where I want to be. I tell her I’m about to come and she doesn’t change anything. She doesn’t stop or speed up she just keeps going and says “cum in me daddy”

I cum so hard inside of her and she stops riding. She’s sitting all the way down on me letting my cock reach the deepest part of her as it pulses and pulses spewing cum out. She’s breathing hard and asks “did you like that?” I say “fuck, that was amazing”

I don’t know if she has given up on trying to be discrete about not being my gf or just got too caught up in how good everything felt bc she was talking. Saying dirty things like cum in me and did you like that. Before I could dive into deeper thinking about this situation she gets off me and turns around. She still straddling me just facing towards me now. I’m too scared to look through my mask bc idk what would happen if she found out I could partially see. I feel her scoot up my body. She hovers her pussy over my face and adjusts her legs. She slides her feet under my shoulders and grabs my hair with both hands careful not to move my mask.

She doesn’t want any teasing or slow play at all, Kate put her pussy right on my mouth as I stuck out my tongue and started grinding on it. Moving her hips forward and back gliding her clit on my flat tongue. She let out soft moans and a sighed “fuck” a couple times but this time as if she was holding it back realizing she shouldn’t be talking.

She stops moving and lets me do all the work. I suck on it a little bit and then start going sideways with my tongue flat on her. I can tell that’s what feels best for her bc of her moans and body movement. I switch to a circular motion and that was the golden ticket. She moans so loud without caring who can hear. Her lags clasp around my head and I can feel them shivering. She keeps shivering and moaning for a bit and is pushing my head away from her pussy because I’m assuming she doesn’t have the strength in her legs to lift herself up. Finally she calms down and lays next to me with her arm and leg draped over me.

I can see her leg over my stomach. Her smooth sexy leg in thigh highs. I wish I could use my hands and feel her. Feel her entire body. She leans over me and starts kissing me. Another dead giveaway that she isn’t my gf. Her making out is way different. She stops and I catch a glimpse of over her breasts. They are unbelievable. Bigger than Sarah’s and more rounded. I could see a small freckle on her chest too which was very attractive to me. I wanted to grab them and lick them so bad. She’s made me so horny I’m ready for round two but she gets up and I can hear her go into the bathroom.

I hear a flush and the sink. Then after a minute she comes out and takes off my condom. She has a rag and starts cleaning me up. I can see she has changed into a normal shirt and short shorts. She finishes cleaning me up and sits in between my legs. She starts slowly stroking me with her left hand while what looks like texting in her right hand. I’m rock hard now wanting more of her. She pauses for a couple seconds with her hand at the base of my cock a couple times. The she does the same thing but this time with her sucking on the head of my cock. I can see what she’s doing. She’s taking selfies with my cock in her mouth. I realize she was taking pictures of it before the selfies too. This just made me hornier. The thought of her doing that seemed sexy to me.

She then walks into the living room after closing the bedroom door. I’m left laying there wanting more and also so content with the most amazing but of my life. After a while I hear the front door open followed by some whispers and quiet giggles. The bedroom door opens and my mask comes off. It’s Sarah and she started undoing my restraints. She says “did you like that? Did it feel good?” I tell her yes and ask if she did too. She said yes and told me that Kate just got back from the gas station down the road and told me to clean up and get dressed quietly as to not leave clues to Kate what happened.

I agree a see the picture now. I’m guessing it was preplanned that Sarah was to let Kate fuck me under the condition I didn’t know it was Kate but cmon it was so obvious. 100% no doubt in my mind that was Kate and it was so lousy how they tried to hide that. I’m sure even Kate knew she had given away her identity multiple times and I’m sure Sarah knew there was no way I wouldn’t figure it out but whatever I’ll play along I guess.

I go to the living room and we all hang out like we don’t all know what just happened. Kate and I keep looking at each other pretty flirty and now I can’t stop imaging her naked and wanting to rail her on my bed. Kate and my gf went out to a cafe and now you’re caught up to the present.

I don’t know if I should tell Sarah that I know about everything that happened and ask her a ton of “why” questions or just keep everything to myself. I want to tell her so I can ask why she was fine with it after telling me she wouldn’t want a 3some with me and her friends but I also want to not say anything because I love the taboo feeling. I also do t know if I should confront Kate about it or not. I don’t know if that would be out of Sarah’s boundaries or not. I also really want to ask Kate how the pictures turned out to see how flustered I can get her.

Any advice is welcome and appreciated as I have no idea what to do or how to play this situation. Thanks for reading and sorry if it was too long or if there were any errors. I didn’t proof read.

[taytrashmouth]

Meet me in the pouring rain

Harry James potter x fem reader.

Inspired by this pin: https://pin.it/2JlvuwrlR

It was your fifth year at Hogwarts, and you were always sort of alone. You had friends but they were never close. You were one of those in between people in school. Those people your classmates will remember in 10 years but won’t know anything about you.

Today was a cold day and despite that, the common room was far too busy to be reading in. And so you sat on the bleachers while the quidditch practice was happening below, to finally read your book in peace.

You could vaguely hear Harry shout instructions every now and again. Harry Potter was possibly one of your favourite people, simply because he was always nice to you.

He would lend you pens in class or explain something in defence against the dark arts. He check in on you at least once a week. He gave you his scarf at hogsmeade once because he said you looked cold.

And despite his fame, he kept to himself. What you didn’t notice was the subtle glances he kept sending you, the smile on his face when you wore his scarf. The stolen touches when teaching you how to get the correct brew.

Your nose was deep into the book you were reading you didn’t even notice Harry watching you from his broom.

In fact in was halfway through practice already when you finally looked up from the pages. And it was only because it had started to rain and your book was going to get wet.

You tucked your book into your coat and awkwardly ran down the stairs of the tent to run back to the castle…which was ages away.

“I’ll be right back” Harry told his team, squinting through the rain. He angled his broom downwards and zoomed through the entrance to the stadium, grabbing an umbrella in the process.

He quickly caught up to you on his broom and held the umbrella above you from his seat in the sky.

You looked up in confusion to see the boy on his broom above you sheltering from the rain.

You smiled. “Thank you Harry.”

Even those three basic words were enough to make him blush.

He put a hand by his eyebrows in attempt to block the water from his glasses.

He flew beside you as you walked, keeping you dry.

“What are you doing out at the quidditch field?” Harry asked.

“Trying to find a quiet place to read.” You replied blankly, still holding the book to your chest in attempt to save the pages.

Harry looked like he wanted to say something but he didn’t.

“What?” I asked.

“I know a place, by the lake…it’s quiet there. I can show you if you’d like…maybe you could read to me.” He stuttered.

I smiled. He was bright red and so was I.

“That- that would be nice.”

He smiled back and then to the floor. “That’s- good. Good that’s good.”

“I wouldn’t mind watching you practice though…” I spoke up, testing the water. Maybe Harry liked me….

He looked a bit shocked. “I’d like that. Great,” he smiled even wider.

When we arrived at the castle he hopped of his broom.

“Meet me here, noon, Tomorrow.” He said moving closer. “Bring a book,”

I blushed. And nodded.

He gave me a hug and said goodbye.

That same evening I was woken up by something I couldn’t see. That was until Harry took of his invisibility cloak

“Harry! What are you doing here?” I whisper, trying to open my eyes all the way, still half-asleep.

“I want to show you something.” He said.

“I’m in pyjamas.” I say, not that impressed with his timing. He seems to brush this off and shows me his pyjama pants.

I drag myself out of bed and follow him with my book in hand as per usual. Trying to fix my hair.

He leads me up a lot of stairs, hogwarts still feels so homey without the people all over the halls. Despite my asking he’s insisting it’s a surprise.

We reach the astronomy tower and he’s got the roof open and has placed down a blanket with cups of tea next to it.

I look up at him, feeling so special. He was so sweet. “Harry…this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” I tell him and lean closer on my toes to kiss his cheek gently, brushing his other cheek with my hand.

“I-I couldn’t wait, to see you…I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” He stutters, blushing like a mess.

I smile wider as we sit on the blanket and lie down looking at the stars. I’ve never seen them so bright.

Harry pretends to yawn to put his arm around my shoulders, I smile at how cheesy it is. It was kind of cute though.

I cuddle next to him and rest my head on his chest. I can almost hear his smile.

He takes my hand in his and immediately leans on his elbows.

“You’re freezing.” He lets out.

“I’m alright, really.” I tell him but it’s too late he’s already out of his quidditch jumper and handing it to me.

“Thank you.” I say softly and put it on.

We lean back to our original position.

“I like you a lot y/n.” He says, not nervous sounding anymore.

“I like you a lot too Harry. All of this means so much to me.” I reply and smile at him, lying on my side.

He sits up a little too and I don’t know who moved closer first but soon enough his lips were on mine and his hands were on my frostbitten cheeks. I placed a hand in his hair, almost wanting to pull him closer.

When the kiss finally broke we both just smiled, with a breathy laugh.

We watched the stars for hours until the sun began to rise.

“Read to me.” Harry whispered in my ear, stroking his fingers through my hair.

And I did, and he held onto every word.

[cheolism]

good things from bad days

✧ wen junhui x f!reader ✧ summary: jun returns to the apartment after you've texted him that you've had a bad day. seeing you drunk, jun decides to take care of you like you've taken care of him. only you are much more honest with your feelings when you're not sober. ✧ wc is approx 5.6k ✧ tags: fluff and comedy; roommates-to-lovers, mutual pining. in a relationship but only you two don't know. domesticity, knowing someone intimately. drunken confessions. ✧ warnings: this is not edited. despite jun being sober while reader is drunk, he doesn't do anything that takes advantage of this. this is ultimately: we've loved each other for five years and you admitting you're in love with him while drunk gives jun the push he needs. drink responsibly, kiddos. ✧ drabble sequel here!!!!!

When you had texted Jun that you were having a bad day, Jun didn’t quite know what to expect. You had your fair share of bad days, unfortunately; Jun wished every day was filled with nothing but happiness and contentment for you, but he was just one man and couldn’t fight the whole world. 

(Once, when you were having a bad day, a barista had nearly made you cry. She had given you a once-over, looking you up and down after you gave your order. Then she gave a little huff, irritated, before turning around and walking away.

Jun didn’t throw a punch at the barista because 1) she was, at the most, eighteen, and 2) it just wasn’t in his personality to do so. But he did leave a negative review and said he found a hair in his drink.)

Today had started out good, he had thought. But then around noon he got a message about your boss, and then twenty minutes later you were saying that you just wanted to be home, that you couldn't take another minute at work. His heart had broken, reading that.

But Jun did what he did whenever he noticed you were looking particularly sad. He went out and bought a bouquet of flowers, stopped at the little Chinese place that knew the both of you by name. Left a fiver at the little shrine in the back of the restaurant, placed his palms together, asked for your health and happiness, just as he always did whenever the two of you stopped. 

“Say hi to your lover for me!” Auntie Meilan waved, grinning at him. “Bring them in next time!”

“I will!” Jun called back, saluting and neglecting to correct the Auntie that no, you weren’t his lover, you were just his longtime roommate that he had been in love with for far too long. 

That was all. 

Night had long fallen on the city, street lights dim and headlights bright. Jun hated getting off this late. He hated it because it meant he missed out on the normal mealtime for the both of you, and he knew that instead of you just making food for yourself or even making a meal and saving some of it in the fridge for him to have later, you would hold off on eating altogether until he got home so the two of you could share dinner and talk about your day. 

Which was why he volunteered to grab food. 

Jun’s stomach grumbled as he walked to the car, and if he was a lesser man he would’ve torn open the takeout box and ate his portion right then and there. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. No matter how hungry he was. 

“You wouldn’t be so hungry if you actually ate a meal at lunch instead of just eating those shrimp chips you like so much.” You had said once, watching as Jun tore open a container of cherry tomatoes and began eating them whole as soon as he walked through the apartment door. 

He had gasped dramatically, and still chewing the cherry tomatoes, scolding you. “How dare you talk about my precious chips as if they’re nothing more than a mere snack! They’re in a league of their own, they deserve an entire meal dedicated to them --”

“Okay, shrimp boy,” you had amended, your brow furrowing in adorable concern. You had rounded the island and went to the cupboard, withdrawing with a box of pasta. “Hold your horses and I’ll whip up some pasta. Don’t make yourself sick on those.”

The smell of takeout permeated the car, to the point where Jun couldn’t even smell it over the vanilla scentsy you had gotten him. It took far too long for Jun to get to the apartment, and every time the light switched to red Jun wanted to just slam his foot down on the pedal and speed through the intersection. 

But he didn’t. 

The man with the french bulldog was walking the dog around the parking lot when he pulled in, and gave Jun a short wave in greeting. Spotting the takeout bags in Jun’s hands, he called out, “Must be your night to make supper!”

Ignoring how misogynistic that seemed and how Jun was the one to primarily make your meals, Jun gave the man a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, haha. Nothing like takeout on a Friday night!”

“Tell your sweetheart I said hi!”

Again neglecting to correct the man, Jun made his way into the building. He greeted the old woman who always sat in the foyer because you always greeted her, remembering how you once commented on how she must live alone or feel lonely, to spend her entire day in the front watching people come and go. 

Jun took the elevator on the right, despite knowing that you didn’t trust that particular elevator and all the squeaking and moaning it did. He felt bad for the next person who would use the elevator, knowing they would smell nothing but delicious Chinese food. 

As Jun shoved his key into the hole to unlock your apartment door, he got the distinct feeling that something was off. He didn’t know how he knew, but Jun knew without even stepping foot into the apartment that something was wrong. 

This didn’t dissuade him; instead he hurried in, calling out for you as soon as the door was open. 

“I’m home! Food is acquired and ready for consumption as soon as you are!”

He kicked off his shoes, ignoring the shoe rack you had insisted on buying, and made his way to the kitchen. He set the takeout on the island, peering around the apartment for you. 

As it was Friday, the apartment was slightly a mess. Socks littered the floor, and Jun spotted your pants near the corner of the couch. He entered the space, noting the nearly-empty bottles of vodka and pineapple juice. There was an empty bag of chips -- his shrimp chips. 

He called out your name again, rounding the couch. The living room blankets were in complete disarray, and your laptop was propped up on the coffee table. There were a few crumbs on the couch, and Jun spotted a muffin wrapper on the floor. 

“Wen Junhui!”

Arms were suddenly around his middle, pulling him back and squeezing. Jun immediately knew it was you, and turned in your arms. You were already grinning up at him, slightly too-wide and with eyes that glittered brighter than usual. 

“Junnie,” you whined, pitching forward and burrowing your face into his chest. Bewildered, but slowly coming to a realization, Jun wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you to him. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” he agreed. You tightened your grip around his waist, leading him into a swaying motion. “Are you okay?”

You pouted, resting your chin on his chest in order to look up at him. “No. I had a bad day. And I’m drunk.”

You may be drunk, Jun acknowledged, but you were no less beautiful than when he left you. You were smiling at him like he was your favorite person on the planet, as if he was the person most dear to you, as if he was someone you treasured and loved, and Jun couldn’t help but giggle and bend down to press a swift kiss to your forehead. 

“Yes,” he laughed a little. “You are drunk. I brought food home.”

You gasped, mouth gaping and eyes widening dramatically. “For me?”

“For you!”

Squealing, you burrowed your face into his chest. He hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart was threatening to leap from it. “You’re amazing! You’re the bestest!”

Squeezing you one last time, Jun reluctantly pulled himself away. While he loved hugging and loving you, and would gladly do nothing but that for days on end, you were drunk and vulnerable. “No, you’re the bestest.”

You frowned at him as he untangled himself, whining. Jun couldn’t help but coo at you, reaching out and pressing your cheeks together. You were so fucking cute. 

“Noooo,” you protested, hands reaching up to cover his. “Youuuuuu!”

“I greatly disagree,” Jun said. He pressed another kiss to your forehead and pulled away. He rounded you, hands going to your shoulders, and began guiding you towards the kitchen. 

Jun was careful to make sure you didn’t hit a hand or foot on the couch leg, gentle and slow enough to ensure you weren’t going to stumble. All the while you were chattering to him, telling Jun about a show you had watched as a child. 

“I don’t know that show,” he admitted, guiding you to sit down at the island. He left your side to return to the takeout, pulling the boxes out of the bag and setting them on the counter. He then went to the dishwasher and pulled out chopsticks. “I grew up in China, remember?”

“Ooh,” you said, eyes wide. It reminded him of Bambi, almost, how innocent and sweet you seemed like this. You were always sweet, he knew, but there was something especially child-like about you when you were like this. “I forgot.”

Jun set your chopsticks in front of you. He then went to the cupboard and withdrew two cups, quickly filling them with water and setting them down on the island. “It’s okay. We can always watch that show later.”

You nodded somberly, puffing out your cheeks. He couldn’t help but grin at how intently you were watching him open up the takeout boxes, your eyes taking in his every move. Jun picked up his chopsticks and clicked them at you once, watching your eyes focus, before reaching for the box of noodles.

“Hey!” You snapped, reaching out and smacking his hand. Jun startled, dropping a blob of noodles on the counter. “Where did you grow up! In a barn? We use plates when eating in this apartment, young man!”

“Yessir!” Jun returned, roughly saluting at you. He stood up and went to the dishwasher, and when he set down two plates you gave him a sharp nod of approval. 

“Good.” You glanced down at the mess of noodles. Frowning, you hopped down from the barstool.

“Where are you going?”

“To clean up your mess, Mr. Junhui,” you slurred, rounding the island to grab paper towels. He couldn’t help but laugh at the serious look on your face, as if he had committed a serious wrong. 

He was going to clean it, of course, after your meal. But he said nothing as you walked to his elbow and leaned against his arm, reaching and collecting the fallen noodles. “Dirty boy.”

Jun nodded, still smiling. “Yes, I’m a dirty boy, aren’t I?”

You returned his nod, still serious. “But you’re my dirty boy.”

Suddenly feeling his heart warm with affection and adoration, Jun inclined his head. “Yes. I’m your boy.”

Satisfied, you tossed the noodles and paper towel into the sink and returned to your seat. You brought the plate between yourself and the boxes, and Jun watched as you, very carefully, lifted your chopsticks and grabbed the box of sesame chicken. 

Even as the two of you ate, you were speaking. Jun listened as you talked about this woman at work who did nothing but complain about her children and husband, but then also said she was trying for a fourth, and how you didn’t think she had ever said a single nice thing about her family since you’ve met her.

Then you were frowning seriously at Jun, pointing at him with your chopsticks. “We won’t end like that no matter what, right, Junnie?”

“Right, darling.”

You set your chopsticks down on the table, reaching out with your other hand. Your hand wrapped around Jun’s cup and brought it to your lips. “Wait -- that’s my cup, I’ve already drank from it, it has my cooties.”

Jun watched you pause for a few seconds, eyeing him over the rim of the cup. And then you raised it to your lips and gulped it. 

“There,” you said, sighing in satisfaction. “Now I have your cooties.”

You then opened up the steamed vegetables, delight taking over your features. Jun continued eating as you shifted through the vegetables, picking out the broccoli and placing each piece on his plate. Jun ate them dutifully, shoving each piece into his mouth. 

“Careful,” you scolded, “you’ll choke.”

Jun watched as you then set down your chopsticks on the counter, the metal clinking against the surface. You pointed at him, peering at him with an extremely serious look on your face that didn’t really suit the situation and had Jun fighting to keep his smile off of his face. 

“Listen here, Wen Junhui,” you slowly began, brows furrowing. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to not stuff your mouth. But I’m serious. Choking is not a joke. It’s not fun. Have you ever been choked before?”

You had begun gesturing with your hands during your little speech, and at the end of your statement you waved your hand and sent your cup tumbling. 

Jun jumped up, rushing for the paper towels and rounding the island. You were blinking at the water even as it dripped into your lap, and Jun shoved away the cuteness of how you looked, confused and taken aback, and ushered you off the stoll. 

“Oh,” you mumbled, moving. 

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “we just have a small ocean in our kitchen. I’ll clean it up while you get changed out of your pants.”

He spun a few too many towels from the roll, focusing on turning the cup upright and wiping down the counter before moving onto the mess on the floor. You were still muttering to yourself, and it wasn’t until you made a small “oh” sound, followed by the sound of something hitting the wall, did Jun turn around. 

You were standing in front of him, legs completely bare and leggings sitting sadly on the floor from where you had thrown them against the wall. For a moment Jun couldn’t help but look -- look at your thighs and take in the shape of them, the color; his eyes trailed down over your knee and to your legs, taking in the spots where you had attempting waxing and given up halfway through, leaving bald patches on your leg surrounded by hair.

But fuck, if he didn’t want to wrap his hand around your leg and guide it around his waist, pull you tight against him and feel your body pressed against his. 

“Staring is rude,” you said, flapping your hand towards Jun. 

“Mm,” he hummed, turning his back to you. Jun dropped to the floor, beginning on the small puddle that had formed. “I won’t mention all the staring you do at me when I get out of the shower, then.”

“That’s not fair, though,” you argued. Jun stood, knees cracking, and watched as you stomped your foot. The fat of your thighs jiggled at the movement, and he wanted to dig his fingers into your flesh and see how it molded around his digits. “You know what you look like.”

“I do?”

“Irresistible,” you said matter-of-factly.

He echoed you, the word and its implications not really registering with him until he said it himself. And then the little light in Jun’s head flicked on, and he squinted at you. 

It wasn’t like you made it a habit to be drunk; you didn’t. In the years Jun’s known you, in the years he’s been your roommate, he’s only seen you properly drunk a handful of times. But he knows what you’re like when you’re drunk: you’re giggly, silly, and honest. 

“Alcohol is like a truth serum for me,” you had told him after a few weeks of meeting. “Get me drunk and I’ll tell you anything. It’s why I can’t be President: I’d reveal all the State secrets.”

And sure enough, Jun found out that when you were drunk, you were incredibly honest. He could ask you any question he wanted and you would answer. He had once tested this by asking you if you had ever lied to your grandma before. Sober you had frowned at him and shook your head, saying you had nothing to really lie about; drunk you had bursted into tears, sobbing about how you had lied to her about your whereabouts on your 21st birthday by saying you had been safely drinking with your friends at their apartment instead of being out at clubs. 

So: drunk you was as honest as you could get. You weren’t inherently dishonest, but all of the little things you were ashamed of or kept secret bubbled out. 

Irresistible. 

Truthfully, Jun wanted to poke at this some more. He wanted to ask you to elaborate, and he knew that if he was quiet for much longer you would elaborate yourself. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

It felt wrong doing that. You trusted him. You trusted him when you were sick, when you were drunk, when you were in tears; you trusted Jun when you were at your most vulnerable, and taking advantage of you in this state, even to just question you about your feelings towards him, was wrong. 

Jun instead began talking, filling up the empty space with his own chatter in order to get your mind off of him in the shower. He narrated what he was doing as he did it, loudly, speaking everything as it appeared in his mind. 

“I’m going to throw away these towels. I know you don’t mind it when I leave wrappers around, because you do it too, but I know you hate it when dirty things are left. Like I remember you scolding Seungcheol for leaving his sweaty undershirt in our bathroom. 

“Gosh, I’m going to have to take the trash down next time I leave the apartment. I know you don’t mind doing it, but I also know you don’t like it particularly either. I’m okay with that. You do enough for me, I don’t mind doing this.”

Jun rounded the counter once more, reaching out for you. You went easily, hugging yourself close to him. Despite the alcohol you had drank, you still smelled like you: fresh linen, oranges and lemons, the sort of things that reminded Jun of home. His favorite smells in the world. 

He swooped down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, smoothing your hair away from your face. You blinked up at him lazily at the gesture, eyes taking just a moment too long to open. “Ooh, are you my tired baby?”

You hummed, nodding sleepily. Then you opened your eyes, your arms going over Jun’s to wrap around him in return. “Yes. Your baby.”

Jun tapped his hands against your lower back, leading you into a sway. You complied easily, grinning and rocking back and forth. Your warmth was pressed against his front, your weight in his arms a comforting one. 

Sometimes he felt selfish for having you like this. Like he was keeping you from someone, like he was wrong for keeping you a secret from the world, keeping you up here in your shared apartment. 

Sometimes it felt wrong, leading you into a dance during the late evening, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your forehead. But the thing was, Jun wasn’t stupid. 

You didn’t share an apartment with someone for nearly five years without there being something. You didn’t settle into a routine for five years, didn’t spend hundreds of nights pressed together on the couch watching television; didn’t wait up until late in the night for him to return, didn’t welcome his mother and little brother into the apartment with welcoming smiles and hugs. 

He didn’t remember the last time you went on a date. 

Or: Jun didn’t remember the last time you went on a date that wasn’t with him.

Yes: Jun wasn’t stupid. 

He saw it. He saw how you took care of him, how you always made sure his favorite snacks were in the cupboard; how you went out and bought new soles for his shoes when he complained about his back hurting too much; how you looked at him when he wasn’t looking, how your voice always took this gentle tone with him, as if he was someone precious, someone you treasured. 

He knew you were in love with him. 

Just like he was in love with you. 

But actually saying it, actually bridging the gap? 

Jun sighed, pulling away. He looked down at you, his darling sweetheart with sparkling eyes. He brushed your hair back away from your forehead. “Let’s go find you some pants, baby.”

You blinked up at him, seemingly unable to process. Then you pouted, lips poking out and eyes furrowing. 

Oh, how cute you were --

“‘m not cute,” you childishly protested. You blinked again, and Jun felt his heart plummet when your eyes took on a red hue and tears began to swell. 

“Baby!” He gasped, hands moving to hold your cheeks. Jun brushed away the tears that began to drop with the tip of his fingers, feeling concern bubble up within him. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“You just --” A little sob left you, and you threw yourself forward and into his arms. Jun stumbled back at the sudden addition of your weight, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You nuzzled into him. “You just take such good care of me, Junnie.”

Jun chuckled, squeezing your shoulder. “I’m just returning --”

You shook your head against his chest. He reached up and brushed your hair back again, revealing a single red eye and tear tracks on your cheeks. “You don’t understand, Junnie! You -- you’re so good and handsome and sweet and silly, and I love you so much.”

His heart thudded against his ribcage; he was scared it was going to burst from his chest entirely. 

Jun smiled down at you nonetheless, cupping your cheek in one of his hands. “And I love you.”

“No,” you shook your head again. “You don’t understand. I love you. Like. Like Captain Ri loves Seri.”

Jun’s heart flew out of his chest and left the building. It fucking flew away, soared through the sky and and rounded the earth. As a matter of fact, it took his brain with him, and the two decided to fly up to the moon and wave at the stars. 

“You -- like. Like marry me levels of like?”

“Yes,” you sighed, as if he was dull. “We’re gonna move out of the apartment because we can’t have cats and then move into a little townhouse and adopt two of them so they don’t get lonely, and I’m gonna buy you a ring to match mine and we’ll share a bed and I love you so much.”

Jun’s heart returned to his chest and was fluttering and acting as if it were a butterfly trapped within his ribcage; his brain, however, was still up with the moon and sun. 

Then you grinned up at him, tear tracks still visible against your cheeks. “Dude, we should adopt like, twelve cats.”

And he remembered the bottle of nearly-empty vodka, the spilled water, and his sensibilities. You were drunk, and while you were an honest drunk, it wasn’t fair of him to do this. 

It wasn’t fair of Jun to pester you further, to make you unravel all your secrets; not when you were vulnerable like this. No matter how much he wanted to, how much he yearned to know about the sincerity of your words, he couldn’t. 

Jun pressed a kiss to your forehead again, closing his eyes and exhaling. He felt you mirror him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his chest. 

“Love it when you give me kissies,” you mumbled against him. 

“Well, I love kissing you.”

You blinked owlishly up at him, mouth agape. “Really?”

He laughed, both hands going to cup your cheeks and hold your face so he could press another kiss to your forehead. “Really, darling.”

Your smile was brighter than any star or sun in the universe. If you were sober, Jun would swoop down and press a kiss to your lips, but alas. 

Instead he began guiding you towards your room. “I think we should get some pants on, don’t you? Wouldn’t want you getting cold. I heard that if you get too cold you turn into a penguin, no joke.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” Jun returned, reaching over to turn on the light of your room. Your room was messy, proof of how hard of a time you’ve been having lately. Clothes were strewn about, and your blankets were in a tangled mess. One of your pillows was on the foot of your bed, and your precious stuffed koala Jun had gotten you during one of his and Joshua’s dates to the fair was on the floor. 

“People don’t turn into penguins, Junnie,” you said. 

“They do if they’re cold,” Jun said. He left you standing in the doorway, moving to your dresser and pulling out a pair of sweats. “That’s how we got penguins. They’re just evolved from cold people.”

You were squinting at him when he returned. Jun held out your pants for a few moments, but you made no move to grab them from him. Finally you took your pants, holding out your hand; he offered his arm, and you held onto Jun as you slowly stepped into your pants one foot at a time. 

“I want you to know that I know you’re making this up,” you told Jun.

Jun laughed, shoulders shaking. He ducked his head, blonde bangs obscuring his vision. Your grip on his arm eased, and your other hand was smoothing back his bangs and revealing his eyes once more. 

“There you are,” you cooed at him, “my pretty boy.”

Then you yawned, wide enough to where Jun swore he saw down your throat. Despite seeing that, Jun still felt nothing but love for you as you blinked up at him sleepily, smiling like a dope.

“Okay, why don’t you lay down in your bed?” Jun pulled away, capturing your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers. “I’m going to go get you some water, and then I’ll be back. All right?”

Jun returned to your room a few minutes later, cold cup of water in one hand and headache pills in the other for the morning. Despite the overhead light being on you were splayed out on your bed, face down and limbs going in every direction. 

He paused for a second, worried. Then he saw your back slowly move up and down. Assured he hadn’t walked in on a crime scene, Jun continued his way into your room. He set the cup and pills on your bedside table before leaning down and yanking the blankets out from under you. 

Grumbling, you rolled over on the bed and allowed Jun to gather the blankets. He took a few seconds to unravel them, and when he did he laid each one over your body. 

You hummed in approval as he tucked the blankets around your body, patting your arm and legs as he did so. “All snug?”

“Snug,” you agreed. 

Jun grabbed your koala off the ground. He hugged it to his chest, breathing in your scent that had rubbed off on the stuffie. Jun pressed a kiss to the koala’s forehead before setting it on the bed next to you. 

Your breathing was completely evened out as he smoothed your hair away from your face. He traced his fingers alongside your temple, your cheek. He ran his pointer finger over your nose, feeling the decline of it. Your lips, feeling the plush flesh give beneath his finger, watching as you subconsciously licked your lips. 

God, Jun was a fucking creep. 

Jun pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally retreating. He made his way from your bedroom, only pausing when he got to the doorway. Jun hovered his hand over the light switch for a moment, hesitating. And then: 

“I love you.”

And the light was switched off. 

You were conscious for only a handful of seconds before you were fleeing from the warmth of your bed and sprinting to the bathroom, the pressure of your bladder too great to wait a moment longer. 

Jun was laughing loudly through the bathroom door, and you opened it once you were finished washing your hands. Glaring at him, you flicked your still-damp hands at him, splashing him with droplets of water. 

“Hey!” He laughed, reeling back a little. His eyes were sparkling, and his pretty pink lips were parted to reveal his grin. “Stop bullying me!”

“You’re the bully,” you mumbled, reaching up and shielding your eyes. Natural sunlight shined through the windows of your living room, reaching into the bathroom and offending your sensitive eyes. You shot Jun a glare as he laughed some more, flicking off the bathroom light and retreating to your room once more. 

The sound of footsteps followed you. “I left some medicine by your bed for your headache.”

“Don’t have much of one,” you replied. 

“Probably because you’ve slept until three in the afternoon,” Jun returned. 

You spun around, eyes wide. Jun was leaning against your door frame, arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his grey t-shirt were rolled up to reveal his biceps, which were constantly gaining size as he increased his visits to the gym. His blonde bangs brushed against his eyes, and you couldn’t help but follow their movement as he flicked his head to get them out of his eyes. 

“Three?”

“In the afternoon,” Jun finished. You sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs. Jun sat down next to you, though he laid back and let his arms fall above his head. “Should’ve woken me up.”

“I tried, Grumpy,” Jun said. He reached out and tapped you, and you fell back to lay beside him. “Several times.”

“Evidently not hard enough.”

“Next time I’ll play the trumpet, if you want.”

“I guess that’ll work.” You stretched your arms over your head, and when you rested them your pinkie was brushing Jun’s. You tried not to think about it, but every time your fingers brushed it was as if every nerve in your body was concentrated on that one point. “I wasn’t horrible for you last night, was I?”

Jun shook his head. You turned your head slightly to see him already staring at you; when your eyes met, he smiled. “You’re never horrible for me when you’re drunk. Now when you’re sober --”

“Oh, hush,” you said, reaching out and slapping his arm. He let out a small noise of pain, but you ignored it. You shifted onto your side, leaning down and looking at him. “I really didn’t do anything bad?”

Humming, he tilted his head. He moved one hand to rest behind his head, and the other reached up for you. Your eyes fluttered as his hand brushed over your forehead, fingers gliding through your hair. “Nothing bad, but you said some interesting things.”

Fuck. 

“Fuck,” you hissed. Your heart began to pick up speed, as if you were standing in front of a thousand people getting ready to perform a song you’d only heard once before. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry!” Jun assured you, his fingers tracing over the shell of your ear. He pinched the lobe of your ear, causing you to wince. “You only confessed that you found me irresistible. And that you love me like Captain Ri and Yoo Seri love each other.”

You furrowed your brow, watching Jun. He stared up at you, eyes half-lidded, lips twisting into a little grin. He looked perfectly at ease, but at the same time, there wasn’t a single hint of true mischief on his face. 

“Did I really?” You asked, voice small.

Jun nodded. His fingers dipped underneath your ear and traced your jaw. “Really. It was cute.”

“And?”

His fingers rested on your chin. He shifted his hand, and then his fingers were brushing against your lips. You let Jun trace your mouth, still leaning over him, heart beginning to calm. Jun’s touch was easing your nerves, and his apparent acceptance and serenity soothed you into following suit. 

This was what often happened, you knew. Jun and you were both introverts; you didn’t like new situations. You hated crowds, hated the loudness of them and how close everyone stood together; you hated the unknown. But then when Jun was beside you, his features neutral and seemingly unbothered, it did something to you. It was as if his tranquility tricked your anxiousness, leaked into your soul and tamed the rough seas.

“And,” Jun murmured, “I love you.”

It was like when you found a blanket at the store and sunk your fingers into it, the feeling of smooth softness encompassing your digits completely. But instead of just your fingers it was your entire soul. 

It wasn’t a big revelation, you thought; not a huge unknown that needed to be answered. 

It was just another fact of life, you figured as you lowered your head to Jun’s. He shifted, elbows pressing into your mattress, raising himself to you. It was just another fact. The sun was yellow, the moon was white, the ocean is big and Wen Junhui loves you. 

With your lips pressed to his, you had one last fleeting thought before his mouth consumed yours entirely: now you didn’t have to feel bad about not correcting the Aunties at the restaurant about him being your boyfriend. 

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || I.N. x Reader

Summary: Watching the guy you have a huge crush on be a pretend couple with one of the prettiest girls you know for a photoshoot isn't the perfect way of spending your morning, that's for sure.

Who knows though, things might start looking up sooner than you'd expect.

Word count: 3.9k

Genres: college AU, fluff with a little angst, idiots to lovers (but only one of them is an idiot and it's not IN)

Warnings & Tags: reader has anxiety, reader is insecure, someone is verbally unpleasant towards the reader, kissing, Tzuyu from Twice is in this

series masterlist

A/N: So this is part one of my lil project for Stray Kids' anniversary! I've got three one-shots written so far, so I'm confident I'll be able to post the maknae line in the next few days, and then take a couple of days to finish the hyung line or post them as I write them, I'll see. I hope you'll like it!

For this one-shot, please do suspend your disbelief for the way the school work is described in this lol, think of it as an artistic rendition or as something out of one of those shojos that go wayyyy overboard.

The shoot is supposed to start at 10, which means you’re there at 8, and the second you walk through the door you’re already plagued with thoughts that you should have shown up half an hour ago. Even as you’re the only one from your team there, you feel the familiar lump forming in your throat. Your mind goes over everything that needs to be done, everything that can go wrong, everything that is likely to go wrong, and everything you’ll end up taking the blame for.

You force yourself to take a deep breath. You focus on the end of the shoot — supposed to be at noon, but likely to actually be at 2, and it should be around 3 by the time you finish cleaning up —, on how you’ll be able to get back to the quiet of your home afterwards, and on how the atmosphere here isn’t too bad, this early in the morning. You’re not the only one here, you’ve already met the tired eyes of a few of the other students who you suspect didn’t go home last night, but there is something light in the air. You saw the sun rising on the way over and the light is still gently pouring in through the windows.

What a shame this won’t last.

When the others start rolling in, you’ve set up your little corner, just the way you like it. Your lights, your mirrors, your brushes and products, right where they should be so that they’ll fall right under your fingers when you need them. It helps you breathe a little better, but the lump doesn’t go away. It’s alright; you’re used to it by now.

Nari’s the first one to walk in, which isn’t surprising considering she’s the one directing the shoot, and it’s her clothes that the ‘models’ are going to be wearing. That is to say, the students she’s recruited to model for her, just like she recruited you into doing the make-up for her. The two of you aren’t close, not even friends, but you’re good at your job and a bit of a pushover, which makes you the ideal target for that kind of things.

She waves at you with a tense smile, but you know it’s not meant for you, she’s just stressed out. She always is. Unlike you, though, she has a tendency of taking it out on others, and that explains at least half of the tension in your shoulders today.

You need to learn how to say no to people.

Tzuyu, from the dance program, enters next, looking unreal as always. You’ve worked with her a few times before, too. She’s a sweetheart and you know she’ll make your job easier.

The same can’t be said about the next person to make his way through the door, whose apparition you’ve been waiting for since you got here, embarrassingly glancing at the door every few minutes.

Yang Jeongin walks in like he owns the place.

To be fair, he kind of does. Also enrolled in the fashion course, he’s pretty much the go-to when it comes to getting male models. Hwang Hyunjin, from the dance programme, is the second one, mostly because he’s harder to get a hold of — and because, you’ve heard, his girlfriend is pretty scary.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he walks over to your spot. His coat is thrown casually over his shoulder, his walk confident, and stylish glasses that you know he doesn't need rest on the tip of his nose. He died his hair back to black recently, but you can see it’s still damaged from the light pink that was his previous color.

“We meet again,” Tzuyu chimes from her seat, grinning from ear to ear, and Jeongin smiles in response, his expression changing entirely the second he does.

“It’s great to see you, Jeongin,” Nari purrs as she approaches, before she sets her eyes on you. “Are you done with Tzuyu? We really need to get started here.”

You know you shouldn’t let her speak to you like that, you have no reason to, but all you can think about in the moment is to pacify her to ensure that she’ll leave you alone.

“I still need a few minutes with her,” you say, and Nari huffs in annoyance, before her attention is captured by a guy setting up the lights and she power walks over to him.

“Do you want me to tell her something?”

You shoot a surprised look at Jeongin, who’s staring at you with a frown on your face, and you immediately look away. You hope it looks like you’re just focusing back on Tzuyu, and not like your heart jumped up to your throat when you met his eyes.

“It’s fine,” you say, “I know how she gets on shoots. “Just sit down and I’ll be with you in a second.”

He nods slowly, eyes still on you as you busy yourself around Tzuyu, but the tension remains in his jaw, which you don’t miss. It gives you a pang in the chest — shit, you don’t like when people are displeased with you.

It also makes his jaw look really good.

Tzuyu leaves to go appease Nari as soon as you’re done with her, and you’re relieved when she’s dragged away to go put on her clothes.

That doesn’t last, though, because next thing you know you’re a few inches away from Jeongin’s perfect face, and he’s staring straight at you.

You swallow. Then you grab one of your brushes, and you get to work.

“No late night snacks this time?” you ask, half-teasing because the last time you’d worked with him, his face had been somewhat puffy from it.

A smile breaks on his face, and immediately there are flowers blooming in your chest. He can look so serious and unapproachable one second, but as soon as his lips curl and his eyes crease, he’s a whole other person.

“I didn’t want to make your work harder,” he replies. You feel yourself freezing, and then you turn away to grab another product, praying that you didn’t just stare dumbly at him for too long.

“You got started on your take on the modernized hanbok already?”

He hums in reply.

“I have one sketch. You?”

“I’m counting on the rush of adrenaline I’ll get the week before to finish it,” you admit.

You’re too focused to see the curiosity in his eyes when you say that. You do, however, notice him tilting his head, and you immediately correct him, fingers sliding along his jaw to pull him back in his correct place. As you do, you feel him swallowing, and you’re quick to remove your hand.

If you’d been looking, you’d have noticed his ears turning red.

“You were the first one here, though,” he says after a few seconds of silence.

“Oh, yeah, that’s because I don’t want to let people down. I’m the only one who’ll get in trouble if I procrastinate too long.”

And even then, you won’t, you’ll just spend a horrible week telling yourself you’ll never do that again.

You inevitably will.

God, you’re so tired of living with yourself, sometimes.

“You should tell me if you need a last second model,” Jeongin mumbles. He’s careful not to move his lips, but you’ve perfected the art to understand that language over the years. The comment makes you laugh.

“You're always completely booked for shoots on the last week,” you grin. You yourself still give a few hours of your time here and there, though you don’t stick around very long. You know that Nari plans her shoots ahead partly for that reason. It’s kind of flattering, if you think about it.

Someone with her drive and her talent gets to have a shitty personality, you suppose.

“I’ll get Hyunjin to replace me.”

There goes your heart again. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only time you spend with him goes like that, because you’re too cowardly to approach him during class, and it’s not fair that invariably—

“Are you done soon?” Nari shouts from behind the screen she’s put up to make a corner into a changing room.

“Just a few minutes more!” you reply before focusing back on Jeongin. “I’ll think about it,” you tell him, though you know yourself well enough to be able to tell that you’re extremely unlikely to go through with it. Just the drafting of the text would take you hours, and actually sending it? The idea is laughable.

You really wish you were normal with that stuff.

“Don’t move, I’m almost done,” you say, and he goes still, and your heart’s hammering in your chest, but at least he’s no longer saying things you’re at risk of misconstruing.

As he closes his eyes to let you put on the finishing touches, though, you know you’re in for a long day.

“Jeongin, can you put your hand a little lower? Tzuyu, smile with your eyes please? Now tilt your head more to the right? More? Jeongin, look at the camera but like, from the side, from— Okay, two seconds for touch ups, and then we’ll need to get things done a little faster everyone, alright?”

Nari’s forcing herself to smile so much that you think she might cramp. You rush past her to get to Tzuyu and Jeongin, carefully touching up their make up where you need and adjusting a little for the light. You also pat Jeongin’s forehead to catch beads of sweat that formed under the artificial light, and he gives you a grateful nod as you do your best not to think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about.

“We’ll be done soon,” Tzuyu says cheerfully, but even she seems to be forcing her smile at this point. You don’t blame her for it. You do, however, think she’s not being very realistic about how much work they have left.

It’s 11.30 and they’re nowhere near done. The start of the shoot ran late because of Nari’s adjustments to the clothing. After that, there was a heated conversation between her and the photograph over the subject of filters, leading to the guy throwing his hands in the air and quitting on the spot, meaning she’s the only one there. You can tell she’s fuming, and though you have sympathy for that, you’re also pretty terrified of becoming the subject of her ire.

“You’re not messing him up, right?” she asks, glaring at you, and you jump away from Jeongin.

“Sorry,” you say automatically, even though you haven’t done anything wrong. “I’m all done.”

She looks at him critically, trying to find flaws in your work.

“He has a spot on the chin,” she says finally, “seriously, if you don’t get your shit together we’ll never—”

“You don’t speak to her like that,” Jeongin interrupts her, and his voice sounds sharp and cutting.

The air freezes in the room. You risk a glance in his direction. He’s staring straight at Nari, lips curved ever so slightly downwards in distaste.

He also does have a little spot on the chin.

Shit.

Nari’s staring at him, too. She’s paled, and her lower lip is shaking.

“Sorry,” she finally says, voice trembling. “Sorry, I’m j-just— We don’t have that long and— Sorry.”

She looks small and vulnerable, and your heart melts on the spot. You can’t help it.

“It’s okay,” you say, “just give me a second to fix it.”

Jeongin exhales slowly next to you, but you suspect it’s in annoyance, not in relief. Still, he leans towards you to give you better access to his face.

“You don’t have to placate her,” he mumbles, lips barely moving.

“I know,” you reply. “It’s just easier that way.”

He frowns, but doesn’t add anything. For a second, you almost tell him that you wish you could stand up for yourself, that the truth is your ‘freeze’ response strikes you every single time and you can’t figure out what to say, that if you could, you’d—

“All good?” Nari asks.

You give her a nod and, this time, she doesn’t say anything about Jeongin — or about Tzuyu, for that matter. So you walk back to your spot, and you watch as the shoot continues.

You don’t really like watching these. That’s generally true. You have friends who do, who think that ‘this is where the magic happens’, but you know all the magician’s tricks, and that leaves no actual magic for you. Still, you’re needed here. You suppose you could have quit on the spot after Nari’s outburst, but it’s— you can’t actually do that. So you’ll stick it out until the end, even if you’re not enjoying yourself.

And that is particularly true as Nari directs Jeongin to pull Tzuyu closer to him. As he does, neither of them questioning it because they’re used to it by now, you find yourself sucking in a discreet breath between your teeth. Jeongin’s hand seems large over Tzuyu’s shoulder, long, pale fingers gently brushing against the skin and for a second, you think about the electric feeling that would run through you if he ever—

Just thinking about it makes heat shoot through your entire body, and you swallow. At least no one’s looking at you.

Another direction from Nari, and Tzuyu puts her hand over Jeongin’s chest, shooting a bold grin at the camera.

You bite the inside of your cheek.

Direction. They step away from each other, but Jeongin reaches out for her, and she delicately places her fingers into his open end, both of them longingly staring at their hands.

Your fingers dig into your arms.

Direction. Keeping Tzuyu’s hand in his, Jeongin brings it to his lips and they gaze into each other’s eyes. They look perfect together. They’re both stunning, and you know there’ve been whispers about them on campus already, in no small part because they’re often reunited for these shoots.

But God does it burn in your chest to look at them right now.

“We’re done!” Nari shouts at 1.50 pm. Behind her, the group that’s supposed to get the room at 2 is huffing and puffing, but you don’t think a fucking panzer could have gotten her to clear the space until she was happy with her work.

You should be relieved. You’re not. You won’t be until you’ve locked the door to your room behind you.

“Wanna get a drink to celebrate?” Tzuyu asks Jeongin. Her smile’s back to its usual brightness, now that the tension’s mostly gone.

You start picking up your stuff, but, embarrassingly, you’re very much focused on hearing his answer to that. You wish you wouldn’t be doing that, because that’s not any of your business, yet you can’t seem to help yourself right now.

You probably would have caught it if Nari didn’t stop by your side just then.

“Hey,” she says, “I am really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have said that.”

The thing is, you’re pretty sure she meant it then, but now there’s a lightness to her voice that you find… annoying. It seems to you that she’s already moved on and expects you to do the same. Normally you would, but after having spent the last two hours watching the guy you have this stupid, hopeless crush on all over one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, something in you just— snaps.

“I think you’ll have to find someone else next time,” you tell her with a polite smile. Her face falls, and you immediately feel guilty. You shouldn’t. Probably. Should you? Are you being mean? Are you doing something wrong? Does that make you a bad person?

“I— Okay,” she says, and this time her voice’s much softer. She looks down at her feet. “I get it. I know I’m not easy to— Yeah. I’m sorry.”

You thought standing up to her would feel good, that you’d feel Schadenfreude over this moment. This is the furthest thing from that. Actually, you only manage to bite back your own ‘I’m sorry’ at the last second.

“I just— this environment stresses me out,” you still say, speaking too fast. “It’s not really good or fun for me and—”

“Sure. Don’t worry about it.” A deep breath, and then Nari nods at you politely. “Well, I’ll get to cleaning up my stuff.”

And just as you’re replying “Same,” she’s spun around on her heels and started putting the clothes away.

You don’t know where that leaves the two of you, but that reaction makes the moment just a little easier on you.

You wonder, vaguely, if she did that on purpose. You don't linger on the thought though, and you go back to your own program, walking towards your little make-up station to start putting stuff away, getting everything back to its place in your bags. It’s something you slow at, just like you’re slow at setting them up, but it also helps you getting back to your normal self. With every object coming back to where they belong, you can breathe a little easier.

You still notice almost immediately the presence behind you, and you’re not particularly surprised to find Jeongin there. You give him a smile, and gesture at the chair.

“If you give me a second, I can get some of that off your face,” you say as you gesture to him. Camera make-up would look quite strange outside, and he’s been to enough of these things to know that at least as well as you do.

“I heard you told Nari off.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess you, uh, were right.”

That’s not all that happened there, but that will have to do.

When you glance at him, though, he doesn’t look happy about it, a frown barring his expression, and your fragile confidence immediately falters.

“Do you think that was a bad idea…?”

His eyes widen and he's quick to shake his head.

“No, not at all, you did good!” You can’t help but smile at the words. He’s younger than you, but somehow keeps behaving like he’s not. “I just like working with you.” He gives you a sheepish smile, lips pressed together.

“Sit down,” you say like your heart didn't skip a beat, “the least I can do is not let you go out like that.”

So he does, and even though you still have stuff out that you should be taking care of, you lean close to him and get to work once more.

There’ll be other shoots, of course, Nari isn’t the only one who requires your services. In fact, you’re surprised that he’d have thought of that at all. You know that it didn’t cross your mind, probably because you think these moments mostly as fueling your delusions.

The idea that Jeongin could actually enjoy spending time with you hadn’t even occurred to you.

Huh. That might say a thing or two about your self-confidence.

“So, you’re going out with Tzuyu after this?” you ask before your thoughts start running wild.

His eyes open.

“We’re going to get drinks, yeah,” he says, a cautious edge to his voice. “You should come with us, actually.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “I don’t know if she’d be very happy if I did that. Wouldn’t want to third wheel, you know.”

You hope you do a good job of keeping any bitterness out of your voice. You certainly try your best to appear nonchalant, like you’re merely doing small talk while you’re removing his make-up, even if you avoid meeting his eyes, knowing that it would

That might be why it takes you by surprise when Jeongin’s fingers wrap around your wrist, interrupting you. When you look at him, you find him staring at you with a surprisingly serious expression.

“You wouldn’t third wheel,” he says, which you certainly don’t think warrants all of that.

“It’s fine,” you reply, attempting to joke about it even as the breath is knocked out of your lungs, because you will not be caught dead misreading the situation for something it’s not, “if anything getting a date with Tzuyu is—”

Then, several things happen at once. The hand around your wrist pulls you forward and you stumble, just as his other hand shoots up to cup your face.

And then he’s kissing you.

His mouth is warm, his lips soft, his fingers carding through your hair, and suddenly you’ve lost your balance and you’re half sitting in his lap and any attempt at forming a coherent thought is swallowed by what is happening.

A very, very distant part of your brain is thankful for Nari’s screen, which has been moved to the make-up station to make place for the group that comes after you, but that is only a fleeting thought, because still, Jeongin’s kissing you. His hands are gentle, holding you like you’re a porcelain doll, but his lips are fierce, and you feel, briefly, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His right hand travels from your wrist to your waist, and you’re pulled even closer to him, and now you’re pressed against his chest and all you can think about is how you want more of this.

When he moves away from you, you’re panting, breath short, and you can only stare at him with wide eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the one third-wheeling,” he says.

“What,” you say in response, ever the eloquent one.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair while the other one remains on your hips, not quite squeezing, but not letting go of you either.

“I— thought I’d made it pretty obvious I was interested in you,” he mumbles.

Oh. Uh, yeah, about that…

“I, uh, I assumed it was just wishful thinking,” you admit under your breath. “I mean, we don’t really, uh, talk outside of these shoots.”

He sighs and puts his forehead against yours. Your noses brush, and you’re acutely aware of the fact that you would just have to move a little to kiss him again.

“I— always looked forward to seeing you,” he admits quietly, almost shyly, something you’d never thought you would see, “but you always looked like you wanted to run away when I came up to you in class, so I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable, just— just shy, I think.”

It makes him grin, and you realize that seeing that specific look on his face makes you want to kiss him even more. If you were bolder, you would, especially right now, but you don’t think you can dare to just yet.

It’s fine, though, because he’s the one who kisses you, briefly, tenderly, and then he looks at you like you’re one of the world’s seven wonders.

“Want to go make Tzuyu feel like a third wheel?” he asks, rising an eyebrow.

You laugh, and you can’t know it, but his chest swells with pride when you do.

“And then I can take you on a proper date,” he offers. “If you’d like.”

‘If you’d like,’ he says, and you suspect that he knows exactly how much you’d like that, but you humor him because how could you not.

“I’d love that.”

this was my first time writing for IN and this made me realize that he's probably the member whose personality I'm least sure how to write, so I hope you enjoyed it still and I'll see you tomorrow for Seungmin's part! Any feedback, comment, reblogs or asks are extremely welcome, I may not be able to get to it right away because I'm working on the rest but I they're much appreciated ❤️

[melpomenelamusa]

Dollplay - Chimeras

~Original story~

Previous

CW: Lady whumpee, lady whumper, pet whump, institutionalized slavery, possessive whumper, non-consensual drug use.

"Little snake, have you ever played with dolls?"

Madame Lavenza never had real conversations with Fidi. She would just ask her "yes and no" questions, give her orders, or make a few comments like someone trying to chat with their pet, but never really expecting an answer from it.

Asking about the girl's opinion was a rare event, and it was even more unusual to ask about her past. Usually, the woman acted as if the snake girl had always been an object of her property, so Fidi was surprised when, during breakfast that day, her so-called "owner" surprised her with that question.

"Yes, when I was little," the girl answered.

Her parents were not in the habit of buying many toys for their children. Fidi remembered that she had a plastic doll once, which she got as a birthday present. She liked to create different dresses for her doll with scraps of fabric that her grandmother threw away, even with almond leaves and folded paper. Sometimes she pretended that the doll was her friend and talked to her. She took good care of her, brushing her hair every day and keeping her clean. Fidi loved her doll very much. Until one day one of her siblings beheaded her. Her parents didn't want to buy her another one.

“I feel like playing with dolls today,” said Madame Lavenza. “I have some new make-up packages that were sent to me, and since I am going to have dinner with my parents today, I thought it would be an excellent idea to take advantage of the occasion. I´ve been wanting to play for a long time.”

She pointed at Fidi with her fork.

“You will be my pretty little doll and you will accompany me.”

It wasn't a question. Fidi didn't feel like answering. She didn't want to imagine what Madame Lavenza meant specifically by being a "doll," but she knew that, as much as she wanted to, she didn't have the chance to refuse either. She nodded.

The woman smiled with satisfaction.

"In that case, get ready and do everything you have to do. Once the game starts, you won't be able to move or speak, because dolls don't move nor speak.”

Fidi returned to her room. The idea of ​​Madame Lavenza's game had her increasingly nervous. Was it something like a photo shoot, like pet shows? Anxiety wouldn't leave her alone.

Around noon, one of the servants knocked on her door.

"Madame Lavenza says the game is about to begin. Come out when you're ready.”

Fidi gathered her courage. She made sure she was wearing comfortable, presentable clothes, the golden collar around her neck, and went out into the hallway. She hadn't gone two meters since she left her room when an arm closed around her torso, pinning her arms to the sides of her body and immobilizing her.

“What?!”

Fidi kicked, trying to get free. Something sharp was suddenly stuck in her neck and the girl could feel an unknown substance entering her body through the thin needle.

The servant let go of her and Fidi felt herself losing her balance. From one moment to the next her vision became blurred and she felt dizzy and heavy. She barely took a step forward and collapsed on the floor, with her legs and arms asleep.

She felt the servant grab her leg and begin to drag her to an unknown place. Fidi couldn't see where, as unconsciousness took over her mind at that moment.

Fidi woke up feeling her whole body asleep. She slowly opened her eyelids. She was sitting with her legs stretched out on a large, soft mattress. Her back was leaning against the back of an elegant bed. There was only one place in the entire mansion that had such furniture: Madame Lavenza's room. Fidi tried to get up, but found that she couldn't move her body.

She lowered her head, frightened, but there was nothing tying or immobilizing her limbs; however, no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't move, as if her brain had suddenly disconnected from the rest of her body. A sound of panic tried to escape her throat, but only a silent whimper came out. There was a piece of tape over her lips.

Suddenly Madame Lavenza appeared. She sat on the edge of the mattress and reached out to caress the side of Fidi's face.

“It's impressive, isn't it?," The woman said, sliding her gloved hand over the skin and pearly scales of the girl's arms. "It's a drug I was able to get my hands on for this one activity. It paralyzes the body, but allows the victim to feel eeeverything."

She drew out the vowel, as she dug her fingers around the snake girl's wrist. The girl let out a muted groan, instinctively trying to break free of the grip. It was obvious she couldn't.

Madame Lavenza giggled.

"Don't you remember what I told you? You're going to be a doll today, and dolls don't talk or move."

Fidi felt a wave of terror drown her. Her heart was beating frantically inside her chest. She felt herself starting to have trouble breathing.

Madame Lavenza took her by the arm and began to pull her towards a leather chair, located in front of a huge dressing table, on one side of the room. The girl, with her body paralyzed, fell off the mattress and found herself dragged along the floor as if she were a rag doll, unable to hold herself up, until she was placed in front of the mirror.

The woman took out the makeup: boxes with infinite shades of eye shadows, lipsticks, blushes, mascaras and skin powders, all from exclusive and luxurious brands. She spent hours applying and removing makeup to the snake girl, making her various hairstyles that she then undid again, and even cutting the ends of her hair and bangs with inexpert movements, as if she were a little girl playing with scissors. Fidi could do nothing but watch, like a static mannequin, the strands of fine black hair falling to the floor and into her lap.

Madame Lavenza changed Fidi´s clothes, putting her in a pink dress with a flowing skirt, white socks and red ballerina flats. On her head she put a huge silk bow. Around her wrists she placed golden bracelets that matched the collar on her neck. She painted shadows and blushes on her, which stood out against her pale skin in a cartoonish way, and on the adhesive tape stuck to her lips she drew a small heart-shaped smile with lipstick.

"You are so pretty," said Madame Lavenza. "All my belongings must always look beautiful. Image is everything in this world. Status and money too. That's why I can have a pretty little doll like you."

The woman pressed the girl's head against her chest, hugging her. That gesture, which could have been affectionate, was oppressive and possessive. There was not a shred of affection in it.

Meanwhile, Fidi focused her concentration on trying to breathe calmly through her nose and prevent the tears that were welling up in her eyes from falling on her face, ruining her eyeliner. She also tried not to see herself in the giant illuminated mirror in front of her, because if she did, she would only be able to notice the desperation and emptiness in her own gaze, contrasting with the fake smile painted on her face with lipstick.

“I'm going to get ready for dinner.”

Madame Lavenza put Fidi back on the floor, positioned so that she could only look straight at a wall, while the woman dressed and got ready on the other side of the room. Fidi's neck hurt because of her uncomfortable position. Her body still didn't respond. How long did the effect of that drug last? How much longer would it be before this nightmarish game ended?

They left the mansion at about six in the evening. A servant picked Fidi up from the ground and carried her to the car, where he placed her in the back seat, on Madame Lavenza's lap. By now, the girl was hungry, thirsty, and had a dry throat; but a voice in her head told her, almost with certainty, that she would not be able to eat a single morsel at this dinner. 

Madame Lavenza's parents were wealthy people, both successful in their own businesses. They had booked a private room for themselves, their two children, and their pets, in a luxurious restaurant. Fidi preferred private events, as she was embarrassed to have people see her.

"She's beautiful," said Madame's mother, looking at Fidi. The girl had been laid down on an elegant sofa, arranged like those girls in Renaissance paintings. "She looks like a porcelain doll! Only her eyes are a bit strange."

"What's the point of having pets if you're just going to leave them there still as an ornament?" said a man with cruel blue eyes. If Fidi wasn't mistaken, he was Madame's older brother.

The snake girl had never seen him more than a couple of times in all these years. He was accompanied by his own pet, a chimera boy with dog ears and a tail, whose real name Fidi didn't know. The other chimera child was sitting on his knees, next to his owner's chair. A thick spiked collar surrounded his neck and he always wore a muzzle that covered half of his face.

While the rich guys ate meat, drank wine, and chatted about trivial matters, Fidi took the opportunity to rest for a bit. The smell of food made her hungry, so she tried to distract herself by focusing her mind on other things. Although her position on the sofa was uncomfortable, it had soft cushions. She closed her eyelids and imagined she was anywhere but there, perhaps in a beautiful bamboo forest or next to a waterfall, listening to the soothing sound of water falling and hitting the stones below.

She became so lost in her thoughts that she fell asleep. She woke up when she felt someone pulling her hair hard.

“Mnh!”

"Remember when I used to tear out your dolls' hair?" The man with cruel blue eyes shook Fidi's head violently, as if he really intended to tear out her hair. "You would cry for hours and throw a loud tantrum."

"Yes, and then I would get my revenge by melting your plastic soldiers in the kitchen," Madame Lavenza replied, with an equally cruel smile. "Now let go of my little doll. I don't tell you how to treat your pets, do I?"

The man dropped Fidi's head in disdain. He began to walk over to where the other chimera child was, still motionless and sitting on his knees on the floor, and kicked him in the stomach. The boy fell back, clutching his abdomen, while his eyelids clenched shut and silent groans of pain escaped from behind the muzzle.

"I guess you're right. I have my own toys to amuse myself with," the man said, before launching a second kick.

"Don't be so harsh," said the mother to her son. "What did the poor little animal do to you?"

"Leave him alone," said the father, scolding his wife. "Graus can do whatever he wants with his belongings."

Dinner was over and they finally returned to the mansion. By this time, Fidi had already begun to regain some mobility in her fingers. A servant carried her to her room and dropped her onto her bed rather unkindly.

“Goodnight, little snake,” Madame Lavenza said goodbye, before closing the door. The sound of the deadbolt was heard, locking the door on the other side.

Once Fidi was able to flex her fingers and arm, she sat up and ripped the tape off her mouth, finally being able to take a deep breath and fill her lungs. Her body felt numb and sore, and her stomach growled for nourishment that she wouldn’t be able to get until the next morning at breakfast.

She stood up and walked to the bathroom, where she first drank water from the tap and then set about removing the layers and layers of makeup from her face. She took off the silk bow, the bracelets, collar, ballerina flats, socks, and dress. She put on her pajamas and threw herself into her bed. She hugged a pillow and felt the tears return to her eyes.

“This is better than the black market, this is better than living on the streets, this is better than…” She repeated the words to herself until the guilt sank deep within her heart and she fell asleep.

Next

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba @morning-star-whump @lancedoncrimsonwings

I feel a little bad for Fidi, but I admit that it's a lot of fun to make her suffer. The best (or worst) part is that this is just getting started. Oh, my poor girl… Thanks for reading! Here's a little star for you⭐

[sagescented]

Lily's adjusting so well to being here already. She had a lot of issues with the stairs yesterday but is taking them like a champ today. She's rolling over and showing me her belly a lot, and wagging her tail now instead of keeping it mostly tucked or not wagging it. And she does the cutest full-bodied wiggle now when she gets back up on the deck and wants to play after using the bathroom outside.

She definitely has serious food aggression issues, though. The way she attacks her food, however, we're now certain that it's because she was being massively underfed; her foster yesterday said they were only feeding her 1 cup in the morning, and then 1 cup at night, and sometimes a snack at noon. But we expect she'll at least be between 70 and 100 pounds minimum- which means she should be getting double what she was getting a day (around 4 to 5 cups instead).

We're really glad we splurged the $40 on one of those slow-feeder bowls when we saw them at PetSense during our shopping spree Saturday. Yesterday we fed her without it and she ate so fast she wound up vomiting twice. Today I've been feeding her with the slow-feeder bowl and it's forced her to go so much slower, and she hasn't had any issues. She does get annoyed with it, though, because she wants to hoover down her food so bad, but it doesn't let her, and you can just tell that it frustrates her. But we already know it'll be so much better for her in the end.

We're still going to physically work with her about the aggressiveness whenever she shows it. But we think she'll naturally calm down quite a lot once she realizes there's enough food; she's getting enough, she won't have to wait, and she won't always be hungry now. Especially once she finally starts to put some proper weight on her bones. Because at the moment you can feel her spine and ribs far too easily through her fur.

Right now she's in kennel jail at the moment because I gave her peanut butter in her Kong, and one of the Cats walked past and she went after them. So I took her Kong away and kenneled her as punishment. I'll bring her back out in about 20 minutes and try the Kong again, and see how it goes the second time. We may not be able to do treat toys until we've worked the general food aggressiveness out, however.

ETA: Second Peanut Butter + Kong attempt is going much more smoothly. Instead of launching after the Cat that walked past, she only growled. And that was easy to correct without having to re-kennel her. Lord, the puppy eyes I got for correcting her, though 😭 Child could make a heart melt, she's so precious. I. Must. Stay. Strong. Though!

ETA 2: I did get nipped when refilling her Slow-Feeder bowl; she was sniffing around like she wanted more food, so I went to give her some (we're in agreement of going a bit overboard right now until the weight's back on- especially when she's actively hungry). But I wanted to try out the sit-and-wait with her, where she sits near the bowl as I fill it and waits until I say "Ok" to eat- which I think will help a little bit with her food aggression ... She did mostly ok with it, actually- up until she decided she'd had enough of the whole "waiting" thing and lunged for the bowl 🤣 I went to put my hand in to pull her away to put her back in the sit position a bit further away from the bowl, and got a very slight nip from her in retaliation. So she will bite a bit in that state (good to know), but she doesn't do it even remotely hard. More like mouthing, just with puppy teeth.

Her first appointment with our Vet is Wednesday morning. She'll be getting her final Parvo / Distemper vaccine, her Rabies vaccine, and we're having the Vet check her for a UTI given the way she's been peeing since we got her (she'll go a little bit in a lot of places).

I also want them to do a general exam to make sure she's good- and we want to talk to them about whether or not we should put her on a Joint compound early to help prevent some of the issues that Great Pyrenees are prone to, since they're prone to a LOT of joint and spine issues. If there's any tests we can do to see if it's likely that she'll wind up with those issues, we may opt into doing those, as well. So that's also potentially on the roster.

She's settling in so well, though. I'm so happy! I can't wait to see how she reacts to my Husband getting home from work today; I can't help but wonder what their routine will be, and if it'll be anything like what his and Whisper's was.

[parkkiablah]

Teasing game - pt. 2 (Zevlor x Tav)

part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

The next time you met Zevlor was when you were just buying food for the day.

You were on your way to the merchants, still thinking about what kind of food you were craving. It really shouldn't be a tough decision to just figure out what you wanted to eat, but honestly it felt too easy, too much like a normal life to you.

Your mind was still stuck on trying to survive a war against the Absolute and deciding what to eat was never part of your thoughts back then. It felt like such a luxury problem to you now.

Your mind cleared when you saw Zevlor standing at one of the merchant stands, picking up vegetables.

A smile instantly found its way on your lips when you saw him and you found yourself walking over to him already.

I linked my arm with his, which startled him slightly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.", you said laughing. He smiled at you as soon as he realized it's you.

"You didn't scare me, I was just surprised. It's good to see you." His gaze fell onto your arm linked with his, but he didn't comment on it. "I guess you are here to buy food, too?"

"Yea, even though I can't really decide on what I want to eat. It really shouldn't be such a tough choice.", you said while you casually gazed around the vegetables the merchant offered. All of them looked fresh and probably tasted just as good as they looked but still your stomach didn't seem to show any interest in them.

"If you don't mind me offering, you are welcome to join me. I am not the best cook, but eating in company is always better than eating alone.", he stated and you couldn't help but be caught off guard by his offer. He was still looking at the vegetables in front of you, which you read as him not seeing it as a big deal, while he was actually just to nervous you might say no, that he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Sure, I would love to.", you responded once you got over the surprise.

You still had your arm linked with his, which you claimed to be a brave move of yours, when actually he had just startled you with a simple invitation for lunch.

When you arrived at his home you weren't suprised to see it very clean and organized, yet it seemed to hold a certain warmth that made you feel welcomed.

"Do you want to drink something?", he asked after he had put his bag down. When you said yes he took two cups out of the cupboard.

"Water or wine?"

"Water. It's only noon.", you responded laughing.

"Fine, we will save the wine for later.", he laughed and handed you the cup with water.

You blinked a few times taking in what he just said.

"Can I help you with the food?"

"Feel free to just take a seat and relax, it's noting too complicated.", he said as he started cutting some of the food and preparing it.

You did sit down for a few minutes but you were too curious to what he was doing, still looking for inspiration for the next time you couldn't decide what to make.

You walked up behind him, putting your chin on his shoulder to look over it.

He turned his head to the side to look at you and you noticed how close his face was to yours.

"What are you making?", you asked him. It made you nervous how close he was but you weren't gonna back down now.

His eyes stayed on you, locked with your eyes but you noticed how his gaze was falling to your lips for a moment.

"Just a dish, that I learned how to make while traveling. You'll see.", he stated while turning his attention back on the food.

"Are you on the menu, too?", you asked.

He immediately stopped and looked back at you. He seriously didn't trust his ears today.

"Uh-.. what?"

You smiled at him sweetly like your simple question didn't just make his heart stutter and took a step back.

"You heard me."

He paused for a moment, trying his best to remain calm on the outside and find a fitting answer.

"I'm not so easy to chew." He quickly avoided your gaze.

He was in disbelieve, you can't seriously be flirting with him. You are the most beautiful, smart and brave person he knew, so why would you be flirting with him? You obviously had a dozen better options than him.

"What a pity..", you said and leaned against the door frame still watching him.

"Seriously feel free to just sit down and relax, the food will be ready in a few minutes anyway."

"But I enjoy watching you.", you stated.

He laughed to hide how nervous he felt.

Just as he calmed his heart you got him flustered again and he was as thankful as he could be for his skintone perfectly hiding his blush. What was he supposed to do? He tried to focus on the dish he was making while he could feel your gaze on him. You were gonna be the death of him for sure.

"Do you ever knock something over with your tail by accident?", you asked noticing the movement of it while he was leaning over to pick up some of the ingredients.

"It honestly happens more than I would like to confess.", he sounded amused by your questions but he would probably be just as curious. "It usually happens when I trip over something and use it to catch balance."

He looked over his shoulder at you and noticed your eyes taking in his form. If it were for any other person looking at him like that he would have been uncomfortable. It's probably because he saw the genuine curiosity in your eyes and the fact that he knew you wouldn't judge him for anything. Thats something he adored about you. No matter what he did, you were always certain he had a good heart and it showed in the way you treated him.

He noticed your eyes finding his again and you smiled at him.

"Any more questions?", he asked amused.

"Not for now.", you answered.

A few minutes later you were sitting in front of him at the table with the food in front of you. It smelled amazing and you couldn't wait to try it.

"I hope you like it.", he said when you shoved the first bit of it in your mouth.

It seriously was the best meal you've had in a while. Probably the best you ever had, to be honest.

"Didn't you say you aren't a good cook?", you asked in disbelieve.

He nodded.

"Liar."

"Excuse me?"

"This is amazing. Do you seriously think you're not good at cooking?" You couldn't believe it.

He laughed quietly while looking down. You weren't going to get tired of hearing his laugh ever.

"Thank you. I rarely got the chance to cook for anyone else but me, so I'm very glad you like it."

"No, thank you for inviting me." You reached over to his hand and gently held it.

He looked up at you at the sudden touch.

"Anytime. It's much better to eat in good company."

"Very true."

(I just can't stop writing about Zevlor, there aren't enough stories about him fr 😭

I hope you enjoyed the new part! 🧡)

[jamies-latex-lust]

Stepping Out With Stepmother

As his bus finally reached its stop, Steve made a mental note to get here early next year. Mother's Day weekend had caused the traffic to be backed up, doubtlessly due to all the people taking their mothers out that year. It would take another hour until he reached his stepmother's house.

Fortunately for him, Steve got there before dark. Unfortunately, he arrived late in the evening. After he knocked several times, his stepmother, Monica, finally answered.

"Steve," Monica said, smiling widely. "Please, come in."

Steve entered the house and the two made their way to the living room.

"This is a surprise," Monica said. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I had been planning to take you out for Mother's Day dinner, but the traffic was terrible," Steve explained.

"Oh, you didn't have to," Monica said. "After all, I'm not your real mother, and your father and I divorced last year."

"All the more reason for me to be here today," Steve said. "You shouldn't be alone the first Mother's Day without Dad."

"You're so sweet," Monica said. "Tell you what. You can stay here overnight and tomorrow we'll have a day out, just the two of us."

"As long as you're okay with that," Steve said.

"More than okay," Monica said. "I'm looking forward to it."

The two talked for awhile after that, before Monica made up the guest room and Steve went to bed.

As he slept, Steve dreamt of when he first met Monica. He had seen her around town before, but he'd been quite shocked when his father brought her home to meet his son. Steve himself had recently turned 18 and was finishing up high school. Monica had actually been closer to his age than his father's.

The two were engaged in no time, and Steve's friends were quick to mock him for it. His father was marrying a smoking hot babe, and Steve wouldn't even be around long enough to take in his stepmother's beauty.

The divorce last year hadn't been that surprising. Again, Monica was closer to Steve's age, so plenty of people knew his father would be tossed to the wayside after a time. Some even guessed that she was a gold digger who'd been out for money. While Steve's father wasn't rich, Monica had gotten a large amount of money from the divorce, which showed in her new life.

Steve woke up later than expected the next day. He had left his house early the previous day, hoping to get to Monica's house by noon, but the world had different plans for him. Thankfully, it was still fairly early when Monica knocked on his door.

"Steve, wake up," she called from the other side of the door. "It's time to get ready. We'll be going to breakfast soon."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve said.

Steve quickly washed up in the shower. Monica only had soap and shampoo meant for women, but he could put up with smelling a little feminine. At least for today.

Once he was finished, Steve went to the living room, where Monica was waiting for him.

"Whoa!" Steve said, stunned.

Monica was standing in front of him in a red, double-breasted suit with matching skirt and heels. Her hair had been combed to perfection and swept over her one shoulder. Her red lips, matching her suit, complimented her beauty.

"Why, thank you," Monica said, flashing a smile which sent Steve's heart fluttering.

"Now I feel underdressed," Steve admitted.

"I'm actually glad you bring that up, darling," Monica said. "I was hoping I could ask a little favor."

"Anything," Steve said.

Monica's smile went from somewhat seductive to mischievous at the response.

An hour later and Steve was now staring at himself in the mirror. He had a wig placed on him and was in a fuchsia version of Monica's suit. Monica had done his makeup, which surprisingly worked in making him look like a woman. The open toe shoes helped create the image of a woman.

"I've always wanted my own daughter," Monica confessed. "And now, I get to see what it would be like."

"I know I said I'd do anything, but..." Steve started, only to be silenced by Monica's finger on his lips.

"You sound too much like a man," Monica said. "You said you'd do anything, so please, let me have this Mommy-Daughter Day."

Steve sighed and said, in his best feminine voice, "Yes, Mother."

"Good girl," Monica said, giving Steve a pat on the head. "Now first, we'll go to get your makeup professionally done. After that, we'll have a little breakfast at this cafe I know and then we can head to the spa."

The beauty parlor had been fairly humiliating for Steve. Monica was complimented for how perfect she already looked, but Steve was told "her" makeup needed work. For whatever it was worth, he did think the beautician had done an even better job than Monica had.

The two had arrived at a small, quaint little cafe and sat down for a small meal. The waitress, when bringing their food, noticed the hair on Steve's chest and wrists.

"She's been a touch under the weather recently," Monica said. "The medicine threw her hormones out of order. We're going to the spa after this to get her taken care of."

Steve blushed and looked down. The waitress was cute. If he hadn't been dressed as a woman, he would've asked her out.

"I'm so sorry," the waitress said. "Good luck at the spa. I hope it makes you feel better."

Steve looked down further.

"Say 'thank you', dear," Monica ordered.

"Thank you," Steve said.

The waitress smiled and walked off.

"And thank you, sweetie," Monica said, as she sipped her tea. "I always wondered how it would feel to embarrass my daughter."

"You're... You're welcome," Steve said, blushing deeper.

Once done, the two had arrived at a spa where Monica fed the same lie to the staff about why her "daughter" needed a waxing. Monica sat by as Steve had his legs, arms and chest waxed, almost enjoying the pained expression on his face as the hair was ripped out of him.

"It's okay," Monica said, cradling Steve in her arms. "I've booked us a mud bath. That should help the pain."

"Thank you again, Mother," Steve said, his voice now sounding more feminine.

Monica lifted his face so he could stare into her eyes, awestruck, as she said, "Now you know the pain women go through to look beautiful."

"You're right," Steve said in a stunned monotone. "You are so strong."

"As long as you realize that," Monica said, before smiling. "After our mud bath, I'll order us both massages. And since you're being such an amazing daughter, i might even request a lovely young lady for you."

The mud bath, as it turned out, was exactly what Steve needed. He wasn't sure if it was actually helping his pain or if it was mind over matter, but he would believe anything Monica told him.

As he stared at his stepmother, who was lifting one of her long legs out of the mud to run her hands down it, Steve couldn't lie to himself anymore. He was attracted to her.

When he was younger, he would always steal glimpses of her as she walked past his room, and he'd fantasize about her slipping into his room and seducing him, but he had hid those feelings away once she married his father. But now? He would at least enjoy the sight while he was here.

Monica noticed him staring and asked, "Where's wrong?"

"Oh, uh, I'm just wondering if there's anything I'm supposed to be doing," Steve replies, embarrassed.

"Just let the bath do it's job," Monica said. "When you're done, you'll feel completely transformed. Like a whole new you has taken over."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve said.

Steve truly did feel refreshed after the bath, and now was laying across a massage table across from Monica. As a man and woman, the masseurs, walked in, Monica's eyes lit up. She licked her lips hungrily as she eyed the man.

"Mama like," Monica whispered under her breath.

Steve took a look at the man. He was around the same age as Steve himself, but that's where the similarities ended. He was far more masculine than Steve was, even if he wasn't being treated as a woman currently.

His attention them turned to the woman. She was absolutely beautiful. Steve swallowed hard as he tried not to let his body betray his appearance.

Steve couldn't help but feel ashamed as the massage started. As the male masseur worked on Monica, she was moaning in pleasure. He knew that he could never make a woman feel that good. Not only that, but the beautiful masseuse working in his back would laugh if she knew he was a guy asked by his stepmother to pretend to be her daughter for a day.

"This feels so niiiiiice," Monica sighed, looking to Steve with a satisfied smile. "Don't you agree, baby?"

"Yes, Mother," Steve said.

"You feel really tight," the masseuse said. "You must not get to relax much, ma'am."

"Oh, uh, yes," Steve said.

After he two enjoyed their massages, or, rather, Monica enjoyed her massage while Steve tried enjoying it, they were now laying back in chairs.

"What should we do next, Mother?" Steve asked.

"Hmm, give me a couple minutes to scope things out," Monica said. "I very much enjoyed that young man rubbing me across my body. The only thing that would've made it better would be if I got my hands on him. Mmmm."

Steve blushed as Monica bit her finger, until she noticed the look on her "daughter's" face.

"What's the matter, darling?" She asked, before realization struck. "Oh, don't worry. I know you were attracted to that lovely young lady massaging you. I know you think she probably isn't into you either, but don't be so hard on yourself. You're quite the catch yourself."

"You think so?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yes, dear!" Monica said. "The only problem is, she might not be into women."

Steve's face sunk, causing Monica to smile mischievously.

"But if she doesn't, I could introduce her to this handsome young man I know named Steve," Monica said.

Steve's face lit back up.

"Thank you, Mother," Steve said. "I'm so grateful for you."

"Of course you are, sweetheart," Monica said. "Most going ladies wish they could have a mother like me."

The next few hours were spent with Monica and Steve getting pampered however Monica wished. Mani-Pedis, facials, hair care. By the time the two left, Steve saw himself in a body mirror and smiled. He looked like a truly beautiful woman. It was odd, but he was a little attracted to himself.

However, as men and women stared at the beautiful young lady in the purple suit out with her mother in an identical red suit, Steve found himself blush ing in embarrassment.

"Don't be so shy," Monica said. "You're a lovely young woman. You should own it."

"You really think?" Steve asked.

"Of course," Monica said. "I'd never lie to my daughter."

To finish their day, Monica and Steve picked up for, before heading back to Monica's house.

Once the two had finished, they sat on a couch together, staring out at Monica's backyard.

"This day has been absolutely fantastic," Monica said with a sigh of contentment. "You've truly made me feel like a mother being spoiled by her daughter for Mother's Day."

"I actually had a good time myself," Steve admitted. "Even if I was dressed as a girl the entire time."

Monica smirked in an almost perverted way and asked, "How did you enjoy wearing my clothes? Could you feel the heat from my body when you first put my suit on?"

"What?" Steve stammered.

"Oh, don't act all embarrassed," Monica said. "I know you enjoyed it, and enjoyed dressing like a fine young lady for me."

Steve couldn't answer, only gulp as Monica grabbed him and pushed him onto the couch, positioning herself above him.

"I always knew you were attracted to me," Monica confessed. "That's the real reason you stopped by, isn't it? You wanted to come and see your old crush."

"I- I-" Steve lost the feminine voice he'd been using and reverted to his team voice. "But you're my dad's..."

"Ex," Monica said bluntly. "I only married him to be spoiled before I took him for everything he had. There's no reason for you to be against this."

Before Steve could admit she was right, Monica saw it in his eyes, he had agreed with her, and held his head as she began kissing him. Steve laid there, mentally melting for Monica as her lips pressed hard against his and her hands held him in her grasp.

"I was never physically attracted to your father," Monica said after her lips parted from Steve's. "But you? You had this cute look to you. The only problem was you didn't make a handsome guy. But as a young lady? You're beautiful."

"Thank you, I'm honored," Steve said, slipping back into his feminine voice.

"I want you to stay here with me, as my good little girl, doing everything I tell you to," Monica commanded. "I'll teach you to be a fine young lady, maybe introduce you to some of my girl friends, and when I bring a guy home, you can please him too."

"Why that last part?" Steve asked hesitantly.

"You don't think you can satisfy me, do you?" Monica asked, a seductively cruel smile dancing on her lips. "But I do want you as eye candy. After all, isn't that fair, with how many times you and your friends ogled me?"

"Do... Do you want me to give you their numbers?" Steve asked, his tone making it clear he was ready to do so.

"Perhaps one of these days," Monica said. "But I've got my eyes on a couple other guys first. And after I seduce them, I'll bring them back from our date, and you'll give them whatever they want."

As Steve imagined what that would be like, Monica leaned closer to Steve's ear and whispered, "Because of you make me very happy, I might let you help me have a real daughter, and you don't want one of those guys to do it first, do you?"

"No, ma'am," Steve said, shaking his head obediently.

"Good," Monica said, grabbing Steve's head again. "I have so much to teach you. I imagine it'll feel like a real mother, bringing her daughter into the world of womanhood. I can't wait to get to feminizing you."

"I thought I already was," Steve said.

"Oh, sweetie," Monica said in a flirtatious tone. "This is just the start. This is a rough draft. Wait until you see the final version of yourself."

As his body reminded him of his manhood, Steve smiled, eagerly waiting for Monica to feminize him so he could please and satisfy her any way she asked. Steve moved in with Monica the next day.

Weeks passed. Weeks filled with many changes for the sissy who'd once been Monica's stepson. But after all the teaching, training, cosmetic work and shopping, Monica felt she had earned the date she just went on.

As she and her date, the masseur from the spa, entered her house, Monica stared into his eyes.

"I had a wonderful night tonight," Monica said.

"Me too, ma'am," the masseur said. "How about we keep it going in the bedroom?"

Monica smiled a truly lustful smile and said, "You know exactly how to charm a lady. But would you be opposed to someone joining us?"

"A friend of yours?" The masseur asked.

"Someone like that," Monica said. "She's the daughter of a friend of mine, but she's living with me now."

"As long as she's okay with it," the masseur, who'd been completely seduced by Monica, said.

"Stacy, come here, darling!" Monica called.

A young woman walked down the stairs in a stylish blouse and shiny leather pants.

"Yes, Mommy?" Stacy asked.

"My date, this handsome young man here, was hoping for some fun," Monica explained.

The masseur stared in shock at the young woman in front of him.

"A beauty, isn't she?" Monica asked, walking over to Stacy. "I've put a lot of work into her. Finding a top that fit her while still looking refined. Pants that perfectly hug that tight tush of hers."

Monica turned Stacy to get and gave her a kiss, before turning the young woman to the masseur. Monica grabbed Stacy's face and pointed her fingernails at her lips.

"And we can't forget these lovely, plump lips," Monica said. "I can't begin to tell you how good they feel when you kiss them. One of the reasons she calls me Mommy is because of how I basically remade her from the ground up. Of course, that's not the only reason."

Stacy couldn't be bothered to listen as Monica talked about how she dominated the young woman. Instead, she could only stare absently and drool at the thoughts running through her head.

Thanks to Monica's training, Stacy now liked the thought of pleasing the men Monica brought back, and Monica herself, naturally. The kiss Monica had planted on her was enough to make her shudder in lust even after all these weeks. But the thought that most captivated her was the thought of one day having a daughter with Monica.

"Stacy, darling, what do you say you give my date a taste of what he's in for and..." Monica stopped briefly to chuckle. "...get a taste of him too?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Stacy cried happily, getting on her knees.

- SISSIFIED BY SUITS, MAY 2024

[Sorry this is a couple weeks after Mother's Day. I wanted to submit it sooner, but couldn't get it done until now.]

[ghostmoon1]

Dusted Rivalries - Chapter Six

Chapter Five | Master List | Chapter Seven

Call of Duty Fic - Task Force 141 - Cowboy AU

Summary: You trained hard to get to the dog show with Dolly, and now it is time to show how hard you trained at the dog show.

Paring: You'll find out soon :3

Words: 2,482

Warnings: Slight descriptions of anxiety

A/N: We're back!! My account got terminated due to Tumblr's spam filter, that's why this chapter isn't posted on the regular time. But I've been very busy, so I'll try and finish Comfy-Vember then more of my attention will be on this fic again, and I may post some extra things!

You could feel your heartbeat rapidly thumping, matching your quick and short breaths. You tried to wipe the sweat off your palms onto your jacket even if it was useless. Your fingers tapped on the leash in your hands, the fabric rough and used between your fingers. The arena was crowded, with whines, barks, panting, echoing, and hitting your ears. The chatter of other contestants and the judges wiped out any peacefulness and silence the arena would have once held. 

Dolly stood at your heel, her tail wagging as she barked at the other dogs that walked by and tried to pull towards them. Even for an old dog, new places excited her. 

Your eyes caught onto the judges as they took their seats with clipboards and pens, an intimidating aura surrounding them for a first-time contestant. You tried to swallow your nerves, but they kept clawing at your throat and threatening to drag you down with them. 

“Nervous lass?”

Johnny. 

You were so glad you brought them along with you. If you didn't you might be breaking into a cold sweat and dying from the nerves. Johnny was always a comforting presence, even if you hadn’t known them for too long. He was the rock you could hold onto while rapids gushed around you. 

“Yeah… very,” you mumble in response, holding onto the leash tighter until your knuckles turn white. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you watch more of the contestants walk in. Their well-groomed and well-trained dogs walked at their heels, heads held high and their tails propped up. Your mind races.

What if you didn't train Dolly enough? What if she gets too scared and tries to run off? What if you mess up? What if you forget the course? What if you can't help save the farm…?

“You and Dolly will do great lass. Don’t get yer knickers in a twist over it,” Johnny’s voice brings you back down to earth with a reassuring hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“Yeah. Still can’t help the nerves. I’m sure Dolly will still do well,” you mutter, watching Dolly’s fluffy tail wag. You hope. 

“You’ll make us proud,” he says, giving your shoulder one last squeeze before letting go and looking over at Kyle and John who were speaking to one of the other contestants. Simon, is nowhere to be seen. You didn't even know if he came.

You sigh and drop the jacket off your shoulders, sitting it down on the seat and leaning down to rub Dolly’s ear, who happily accepts the attention. “Alright… ready girl?” you murmur to her and earn a happy bark in response. Although, you were asking yourself if you were ready more.

The walk down to the waiting area took an eternity, you could hear your own heartbeat over the echoing voices and dogs. Dolly’s ears perk up as music starts to softly play in the background, and the voice over the microphones starts to echo throughout the stadium. 

“Hello everyone, welcome to this year's dog show! Today, the events will be as follows; We will have the agility championships until noon, which will take up the greater part of the day…”

You start to zone out the more they speak, calling in a former champion and interviewing them as the staff makes sure everything is properly set up. 

Your heart jumps to your throat as the first contestant gets called up. “To start the show-off today, we have Charlie the Shetland Sheepdog, with handler Anthony Clarke from Norfolk, Virginia!”

You watch as the man and his smaller dog run up onto the course, standing on a platform before jumping off and heading towards the start. You hold your breath as the small dog yelps at him, then settles between his legs, its small body vibrating with excitement and adrenaline. He yells to start, and the small dog's legs move faster than you would’ve thought they could. Its tail is high in the air, approaching the first jump and leaping over it with ease. The tiny dog moved with ease and grace, leaping over each jump and running over the ramp. It sped through the tunnel and weaved through the weave poles with ease. 

You feel your heart beat faster as you watch, the anxiety clawing at the back of your throat and sending it dry. You try to swallow the nerves down again, but nothing can stop the thumping of your heart. 

The show continues, and you watch with your anxiety building as each dog flawlessly finishes the course in record times. Watching just made you wish you spent longer training. You hope she was ready for this. You jump as they take to the microphone again, and then the dreaded words come. 

“Next up, we have Dolly the Border Collie with her handler Y/N! Now, Dolly here is an old girl, but we’ll see how she holds up!” 

With a deep breath, you jog out onto the course leading Dolly up onto the platform to stand for a moment for the judges to see her. 

“Good girl… you're gonna do great,” you whisper as you pat her side, even if she couldn't fully understand you, giving her reassurance seemed to help you as well and calm your nerves.

Now, it was Dolly’s and your time to shine. Time to show the crowd what you’ve been training so hard for, putting in the hard work and hours to get here. To show them that you deserve to be here.

To save the farm.

You swiftly lead her down to the fake grass of the course, each obstacle set out precisely. The grass crunched beneath your shoes, Dolly’s paws tapping against it in excitement as she whined and begged for her leash to be taken off. You kneel next to her, slipping it over her head. “Alright girl… let's do this.”

You look up to see Johnny, Kyle and John in the crowd, each of them looking excited and hopeful. Johnny was shouting and jumping up and down, throwing a fist in the air while Kyle tried to calm him down, yelling stuff at him you couldn't quite understand. John gave you a warm smile and a nod, silently wishing you good luck.

Here was your time to shine. Dolly’s time to shine. Show them what you’ve worked for.

With a sharp whistle, Dolly places herself between your legs, kneeling down and ready to leap forward. Your eyes dart around the course, taking mental notes on the course and how you are going to approach this. 

You take a step forward, and so does Dolly. She shoots past, her paws hitting the ground with newfound determination. You run after her, every step you take sending a small shockwave of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your body. You ran alongside Dolly, who seemed to be enjoying this much more than you were. She leapt over the first jump, landing effortlessly on the other side and sprinting towards the next jump.

“That's it! Good, next one!” you call out each command, rewarding her with words for now until you can spoil her with love and affection afterwards. Her tail was high in the air, her body agile and graceful as she leapt over the next jump. 

Her paws reached forward as she leapt over the next jump, hitting the ground on the other side and her pack paws pushing herself forward once again. Your eyes follow her with pride, maybe all that training was paying off. Maybe you could do this, maybe she could. 

Maybe the farm had hope. 

You point her towards the next obstacle, and she flies towards the ramp. Her muscles and pure determination push her up the ramp, slowing down as the ramp drops to let her run off the other side. After another jump, she sprints into the tunnel and out the other side. 

You continue to praise her and lead her through the course, your heart pounding as you near the end of the course. Dolly leaps over the next few jumps with ease, her tail bouncing as she lands and her ears perked forward. Finally, you point her towards the weaving poles where she quickly bounds between each one, her body curving around them like she was made to be doing this.  

You let out a cry in victory, kneeling down and immediately catching Dolly in your arms as she licks and pants in your face after she finishes the course. You adore her with pats and rubs, hugging her as her tail wags and wacks you in the side but you couldn't care less.

“You did it!” you cry, laughing as she licks your face, covering it in her slobber. 

The sound of the crowd cheering and clapping finally hits your ears, and the adrenaline begins to wear off. Your eyes locked with one of the judges, and you couldn't help but smile at him in pride. “We did it…” you whisper again as if you were trying to convince yourself that you really did just complete your part of the dog show, and the world didn't collapse beneath you.

You look over at the boys, who are standing and cheering, Johnny throwing his fists into the air with a massive grin plastered on his face. Kyle was having to drag him back from jumping over the fencing and sprinting towards you. Price stood up for you, clapping as he wore a proud smile on his face.

The pride swells in your chest, seeing the people who you only met not long ago but now felt close, clapping for you and your hard work, how you and Dolly had worked hard to get to this point. You sit on your heels for a moment, catching your breath from running around the course with her. 

You hope you’ve done them proud.

After leading Dolly off the course and to some seating, which you are forever grateful for after that workout, it didn't take long before you saw the boys running towards you. Well, Johnny was running, Kyle and John were trailing behind, struggling to keep up.

“That was bloody brilliant lass!” he calls, closing in on you and throwing his arms around you, squeezing whatever air you had left in your lungs out. “Yer did us so proud!”

You laugh, wrapping your arms back around him as he rocks you side to side in his excitement, letting your hands dig into the combination of fat and muscle on his back. His warmth radiated around you, making you feel even hotter and sweatier than you did before. 

“You and Dolly are an amazing team, the best we’ve seen today,” Kyle pitches in, stealing your attention away from Johnny’s bear hug for a moment. He finally releases you, letting you step back and breathe again.

“You’re just saying that,” you reply, brushing your now rumpled shirt to try and keep yourself looking semi-presentable. His deep brown eyes crinkle around the edges as he laughs in disbelief.

“No love! You were amazing, considering you only trained for maybe a week, compared to everyone else who probably works on stuff like this for a living!”

Price chuckles and agrees, letting his arms sit over his chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath. “Now, let’s see if you’ve won eh? If you save this farm, we’ll forever be in your debt.”

Johnny and Kyle nod in agreement, their eyes sparkling with excitement and pride. Kyle leans down to slip Dolly’s leash and collar back on, her paws padding across the soft ground as she trots along to the waiting area, where everyone else is sitting and waiting nervously for the winners to be announced. Dogs sat at their owner's heels, waiting and yapping as they waited. Tension hung heavy in the air, it was thick enough that you felt you could cut through the air with a knife. 

As you take a seat, you can’t help but let the nerves creep back in. Your hands feel moist with sweat once again, a bead of sweat forming along your browline. You bounced your leg in anticipation, watching as the judges across the arena spoke in hushed voices to one another, tapping their pens and every so often letting their eyes flicker over to the contestants, studying them. 

Judging them.

Judging you.

Their pens touch their clipboards, writing down the unknown. Unknown to you right now, but soon enough they’ll call out the winner, the one who gets to bring home the prize.

The whole arena goes silent as one of the judges taps their microphone, the eerie sound echoing. It was too quiet. You could hear the tick-tocking of the old clock on the wall behind you, the heavy and anxiety-riddled breaths of yourself and everyone else around you, the quiet shuffling of feet, the panting and small whines of the dogs. 

“Alright everyone, we will be announcing the winners of this year's agility championships!” the voice over the microphone echoes. You gripped your seat, your knuckles turning white as sweat pools under your thighs, sticking you to the chair. Telling you your fate. You won’t be moving from that place to pick up a trophy… you won’t win this. You weren't good enough.

You couldn't think like that. You can’t let those thoughts overwhelm you.

But what if you can’t save the farm…? What if all the hard work you put into this was for nothing? Maybe Simon was right…

John’s hand on your knee snaps you out of the thoughts that threaten to pull you under and drown you. His calloused hand was warm and rough, providing a comforting presence. He gently squeezed as his eyes remained out the front of the judges, studying them as the judges spoke. 

They began to name the winners.

“We would like to start with honourable mentions, who will be taking home our dog care baskets brought to us by our sponsors! For these, we have Jessica Mulberg with her Dalmation, Molly!”

You feel your heart clench as names begin to get called out. The crowd claps as you watch the woman and her dog head over to receive their prize, giving thanks and bowing to the crowd with a smile on her face.

“For the second honourable mention, we have Shane Newman with his Weimaraner, Lucky!”

He collects his prize as well, a proud smile on his face as he does so. He adores his dog with pats and praises, who soak up the attention like a sponge with a wagging tail.

Now for the podium. 

“Now… the winners for the agility championships, we have…” the pause drags on, making you hold your breath and grip the chair tighter as you wait. Fuck them for pausing. “In third place… we have Y/N, with her Border Collie, Dolly!”

Fuck.

[ Tag List: @sleep101 , @jooba , @daydreamsareallineed ]

[lilacella]

🎂 Sirius' Birthday Week Day 6: Birthday Ficlet!

This was supposed to be cute and cozy but somehow it got quite angsty 😬. Sadly, I don't get to choose what the parasites make me write so I hope you enjoy!

You can read this as romantic prongsfoot or not (though I personally encourage you to ☺️).

Birthday Boy (ao3) T rated | 1,2k

"Happy Birthday."

James' quiet voice rips Sirius from his thoughts. A smile creeps onto his face as he turns around to his best friend, who has just emerged from the roof hatch.

The roof of Gryffindor tower has always been Sirius' favorite spot. Especially when it is dark, like now. It is calm and quiet. He can overlook the entirety of the schoolgrounds, right up to the Quidditch field - but noone can see him. Hidden between the chimneys, wrapped in a thick blanket against the cold, he sits and observes the depths that lurk only a meter away from his feet.

On the roof, it's just him, his thoughts and the wind. Noone bothers him up here. Noone, except the people he doesn't mind being bothered by.

Which brings us back to James.

In one hand he is carefully balancing a tiny cake that is too small for the fullsize candle stick James has stuck in the middle. The other is busy clutching two opened bottles of beer. Why he isn't just using a levitation spell escapes Sirius' understanding, but he has to admit that James' focused expression adds to the charm of the scene.

"How's the party going?," Sirius asks nonchalantly and reaches out to relief James of one of the bottles.

"Suprisingly good, considering the fact that the birthday boy has fucked off to the roof before it even started." James drops down next to him and places the cake in front of Sirius' crossed legs. The light of the candle flickers defiantly in the wind.

"Thank you," Sirius says and trails a thoughtful finger through the molten wax dripping down the side of his cake decoration.

James rubs his arms through his sweater. "Aren't you getting cold?"

Sirius wordlessly lifts one side of his blanket and lets James huddle up to him.

He knows what James will say before he does.

"I'm alright, Prongs."

"Are you sure? Because you've got a warm common room full of people waiting for you with presents, and yet here you are, sitting on the roof in the dark like a bloody gargoyle."

"I wasn't the one who invited them."

James sighs. "Well, I'm sorry that I assumed you would want to celebrate your 17th. My bad." He picks a crumb off the cake and eats it, staring straight into the night.

Sirius nudges his shoulder apologetically. "I do. Just not...not down there."

James turns and looks at him thoughtfully.

"You know, Pads... I know you. I know you really damn well. But sometimes I don't get you."

Sirius isn't sure why that sentence stings so much. Maybe he's just sensitive today. He turns away so James doesn't see the tears suddenly prickling in his eyes, threatening to spill.

He feels how James' arm snakes around his waist and how his chin is coming to a rest on his shoulder.

"Talk to me."

It isn't a demand. Not even a request. More like a plea, murmured softly into the wind rushing past his ears.

Sirius hates talking about his feelings. Damn, he hates feeling his feelings. Sometimes they feel like an endless lake threatening to drown him in its bottomless darkness.

But right now he is on the roof. Hidden from views. Just him, his feelings and the smell of frost in the air - the first snow only a few days away. And James.

So it's alright to talk. Up here, nothing he mutters into the darkness really counts. It will simply be swallowed by the night.

"I always thought I would be happy. Once I turn 17. Do you know how long I've been waiting for this day? To finally be of age, out of their control..."

It is a silly question. Of course James knows.

"I always thought I would be happy. Overjoyed, jumping around, singing songs on the fucking table." Sirius takes a swig of his beer. "But I am not. I'm not happy James. Why am I not happy?"

Now the tears fall after all. It doesn't matter. Not here. He takes another big gulp and washes the salty taste off his upper lip.

A gust of wind tugs at his hair, probably blowing it into James' face. If it does, he doesn't complain.

"Do you miss them?," James asks.

The question feels like a punch to his chest and he chokes out a startled sob. The candlelight in front of him goes blurry.

He doesn't know how to answer. He doesn't. He hates them. He is glad he has left. But also he does.

"I think I just miss what could have been."

James nods as if Sirius' words had made any sense. Maybe they did.

"I don't want to go back. I don't want them to come after me. I'm glad they are leaving me alone. But... But it still hurts." He takes a shaky breath. "I always thought they would fight me, you know? Come after me, turn up at the station, write me threatening letters or something. I've spent the past years being terrified of that. And now - Nothing. And I should be glad. I should be relieved. But somehow..." He trails off.

"It hurts," James completes the sentence for him. His fingers rub calming circles on his side.

Sirius wipes at his tears.

"I guess now it is over. After today... After today there's no going back." He angrily shakes his head.

"And I don't want to go back! Fuck them! It's just... It feels weird they gave up so easily. And..." His stupid voice breaks.

"And this is the first birthday they didn't send me a letter."

His tears run down his cheeks like a hot river, almost steaming in the chilly november air.

He has always hated the letters his parents used to write him on his birthday. They sounded formal and fake and always included at least one backhanded compliment, trying to nudge him towards the behavior they deemed fit for a heir of the noble and most ancient house of black. He often burned them halfway through reading them. But somehow the absence of the black envelope on the breakfast table this morning had made him loose his appetite.

It infuriates him. He has left and yet they still seem to hold so much power over him. Ruin his fucking birthday, even! He chokes out another sob.

James gives him a firm squeeze.

"You'll always have me," he states matter of factly.

Sirius smiles through his tears and turns towards him, leans his forehead against his.

"I know," he croaks.

Sirius can feel the warmth emanating from James' skin on his own. He is glad he has come up here.

"You'll never spend a birthday without me again. No matter where you hide, I will find you!"

"I know," Sirius sniffs.

"I love you, mate." James cups his face and wipes the tears off his cheeks with his thumbs.

"I know," Sirius says and tries to find James' eyes behind his glasses but he can only see his own puffy-faced reflection.

I love you too.

James smiles as if he had heard his thoughts. "Then blow out the candle, git."

He does, wishing for James' promise to come true.

[digenerate-trash]

Bailey vs Christmas please 🥺

I'm assuming yan Bailey. Because here is where you get the Bailey VS everything shit!! So here we go!!!

AMAB Bailey | GN PC

Bailey looks up at the ceiling of his room. It's cold. It's always so fucking cold in here. It's why he doesn't keep you in here... but he shoves that thought aside. Not today. He's not going to think about it today. His body aches with every stretch and stiff movement. The light streaming through his window was extra bright because of the snow-topped streets and road. He hates this. A whole week with nothing to do all the orphans are home a lot which means double the work. And what's worse is that it's harder for him to get clients this time of year as well. It's like people feel worse about buying orphans during the holidays. Not that you're suffering with paying the bills. Not thinking about it.

Still. He has to get up. He can already hear the commotion of collective excitement just down the hall. He rubs his face growling slightly. He won't interrupt yet. He still needs coffee before he can start yelling. 

Still, as he looks out the kitchen window something seems a bit different this year. He can't put his finger on it. He's always in a terrible mood. But this morning he's more... just depressive. He knows what it is.

A bit later the noise picks up again and Bailey is assuming that's the older ones getting up and collecting presents. Are you up yet? He hates the noise but he still holds off. If he interferes now no one is happy and he'll have to deal with bitching orphans all day. So he waits...

Another hour of him in his kitchen staring into a mug of coffee and hating himself. The thoughts he's trying to avoid keep coming back. 

Did you get a gift?

Do you care he's not there?

Are you going to talk to him today?

Bailey shakes his head. He's waited long enough. And he is sick of the noise. He sets his mug down on the counter before heading out into the main orphanage. The hall is covered in wrapping paper and cards. Most orphans have a new set of mittens or scarves. Some have little toys that they're sharing with others. 

And there's you. Of course, you are here. Your back is against the wall as you talk with Robin. He's hugging a little half-unwrapped gift. The wrapping paper on his matches every other gift in this damn hall and of course it does. Why wouldn't you be the cause of all this noise? 

"Clean this fucking mess up," Bailey says startling both you and Robin. But then there's a moment where you smile at him. You leave Robin's side to go and pick up the last gift under the tree and hand it to Bailey. Same wrapping paper... 

Not today, not today, not today Not today, not today, not today Not today not today, not today

Bailey hurriedly tucks the gift under his arm before pushing you away. 

"I'm not kidding. I want all this garbage gone by noon!" Bailey yells before he's back down the hall. The blush that creeps up his neck is enough to make him sick he covers his mouth and nose as he heads to his office and sits down in his chair again. Safe. Comfterble. 

He grabs the gift setting it down in front of him. Too pretty to rip open... 

Bailey reaches into his desk pulls out the Valentine's Day gift you got him last year and stares at them both. His nails dig into his palms as he looks them over. 

Why did it have to be you?