#like I really did use to be ok with political differences

[emptymanuscript]

That’s a pretty good one.

Though I think the first three panels are actually the more important ones.

Yes, hypocrisy is totally the norm. And that’s the main point, “we” do whatever benefits “us.” The gotcha is real.

AND

Note that you can actually rearrange these panels in any order and get a disturbing relationship between them. All these tactics are connected. The hypocrisy is simply another tactic in the same overall goal of control and purification.

Go in reverse.

I don’t like this government action, leave it to the states voters. Let me intimidate the voters so only the ones I like will feel safe to vote. Let me pick how the votes are counted so that the voters I prefer will count more than other voters. Let me enshrine all these tactics into the basic structures of our system. And you’ve just painted the picture of systemic racism as a political organizing principle.

Vertically.

Make the law to control who can vote and how. Enforce the law with extreme force and/or with vigilante “justice” and you suddenly have the right to intimidate, control, and kill those who aren’t on the “good” list without repercussions. This lets you move and reorganize the systems and structures so the “good” ones like “us” get what they need while the “bad” ones get less and are pushed toward bad action by simple need, clearly showing to the majority that more drastic action is necessary to stop the “bad” ones, so they vote you even more draconian power and extralegal new latitude in law enforcement to stem the tide of reactions to the problem the “good” ones actually caused in the first place.

Or read them at random. It doesn’t matter. They’re all connected. They all lead to the same place. It’s holistic.

[mischievousmoony]

hello !! it is again almost 3am where i am but i cannot stop thinking at nerdy james before he gets buff from quidditch.

headcanon time; first or second year, before he knew his friends, he was like this wimpy little kid that got bullied a whole lot (especially by slytherin kids) and that's why he plays pranks on people.

but but! a request maybe of reader liking james before he got popular, but they never made it known because they're the quiet type. but as james became popular, reader stayed the same and they never really really crossed paths again. but there was a time where reader did something small for james back then which he remembered all those years and then they kiss kiss fall in love.

you can you whatever pronouns you want again for reader !!

- 🌱

took the liberty of making the reader a gryffindor hope thats ok

𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 2.8k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (not reader or james), unsolicited flirting from random guy, james is taller than r, gryffindor!reader, introvert!reader, no specific pronouns for reader used

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Secluded in a quiet corner is where you feel most comfortable at parties. Your fellow Gryffindors are a boisterous bunch, and that's never been your style, making it much easier to watch events like these from the sidelines.

This doesn't make you the most popular student in your house. It's not as though people don't like you, but they don't really know you. If they had to, the vocabulary they would use to describe you would be limited to quiet, nice, and… quiet.

You’ve always wondered if you would've fit in better in another house. Ravenclaw always seemed appealing. Or Hufflepuff maybe. But for reasons you don't understand, the sorting hat put you here. With the daring, self-assured, unreserved students that you couldn't be anymore like. But, you never really minded. As different as they are, at least they're nice.

For the most part.

"Hey, baby," one of your housemates drawls, emerging from the lively crowd and invading your corner. You can't say you remember his name as he cozies up next to you, unceremoniously situating himself against the wall. His shoulder crashes against it roughly as he says, "You look lonely over here."

His warm, beer-scented breath invades your senses and you scrunch your nose in discomfort, veering away from him as you reply, "I'm fine."

"Want some company?" he presses, surging forward to make up for the space you created and then some.

"No, thank you." It's almost annoying that your instinct is to be polite as this guy invades your personal space.

"Cos I could make for some real nice company," he adds, a sinister smirk working its way onto his face as you cringe away from him.

You're wracking your brain for a way out of this situation, when a familiar voice sounds from behind you, saving you the trouble.

"Hey, ready to head out?" James Potter says, and you have no idea what he's talking about, but at least it makes the other guy back away from you slightly.

"James," you blurt, rather dumbly, surprised at his sudden closeness.

Truthfully, you have been eyeing him from your corner; admiring the boy from afar as you have for years. Most of Gryffindor fancies him, and you're no exception. But who wouldn't have a thing for Gryffindor's valiant captain and ever confident head boy? Especially when that boy looks the way James does: standing over six feet tall with a chiseled, muscular physique (thank you, Quidditch). He seems to know it too, the way he carries himself with confidence.

His most captivating feature, though, is his bright, infectious smile. It's always been your favorite thing about him, even when it was still the shy, hesitant grin of a boy who wasn’t yet confident in himself.

"It's about time for us to get out of here, don't you think?" James smiles, baring all of his pearly whites, and he looks like something out of a dream. His eyes flick from you to the boy to your left. "Oh, hey Callaghan, didn't see you there."

"Potter," Callaghan nods in greeting. "You, uh, you know..." he trails off, gesturing aimlessly to you. You're not surprised that he doesn't know your name.

"Y/N? Course I do," James says, stepping closer to you.

But that. That's a surprise.

James towers over both of you, making Callaghan take another step back in intimidation. You're too busy being surprised to feel relieved over the space. James knows your name?

Callaghan gestures between the two of you, trying the gauge your relationship. "And you two are...?"

"Leaving," James says, offering you his hand, “Right?”

You stare at his hand, momentarily dumbfounded, before you take it, “Right.”

You feel kind of hazy as you let James lead you away from Callaghan, away from the lively party, and out into the corridor. The situation is so surreal that you wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly woke up to find it was all a dream. When was the last time you even spoke to James Potter?

"You alright?" James' voice cuts through the silence of Hogwarts' halls. Your eyes meet his concerned ones as he leans against the stone wall, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you say, still a little muddled. You snap out of it with a shake of your head, remembering your manners, "Thank you, by the way."

"Psh," he waves his hand through the air, brushing it off, "You don't need to thank me. Any person with eyes could see Callaghan was being... off putting." James scrunches his nose in judgement, pausing as if to bite his tongue, like has more to say about Callaghan but better not. "Any decent person would've stepped in. No thank you necessary."

"Well I'm thankful anyway," you say quietly, the corner of your mouth tugging upward into a small smile.

James' eyes dart to your lips, your gesture conjuring a wide smile on James' own lips. You're momentarily distracted as his tongue runs across his teeth, barely hearing him as he says, "Well, I may be reluctant to accept your gratitude because I may have had some selfish reasons behind my method."

Your lips part, twitching into the shape of various words that never leave your lips. You feel very warm all of a sudden.

James does a rubbish job of hiding the amusement in his eyes, but he is kind enough to put you out of your misery with an explanation, "I need a walking buddy. Was hoping you'd like to join me?"

You're not any less dumfounded but you manage to get the words out this time. "You want me to go on a walk with you?"

"Yeah," James says, like it's not strange at all.

"Why didn't you ask one of your friends to go?"

"You are my friend," James insists, and you cock and eyebrow.

"I was surprised that you even knew my name."

"Of course I know you! We're friends," he emphasizes.

You look at him skeptically, not sure what you did to make a friend out of him. Not that you wouldn't like to be his friend, but friends usually talk to each other. The last time James spoke to you was last year to ask if you had an extra roll of parchment. And he was more so asking the entire class, you just so happened to be the one with the parchment.

"Do you not want to be my friend?" He asks in a teasing tone, having let you stare in silent skepticism for long enough.

He's not being serious, but you panic anyway. "What!? No! I mean no I don't not want to be friends!"

He chuckles as he pushes himself up from wall. "Then walk with me, would'ya?" He nods his head off in the same direction he starts walking, expecting that you'll follow.

You do, your feet moving faster than your brain can overthink your way into a no. But as you walk next to him your thoughts catch up with you.

What are you supposed to talk about? What do you know about him? Quidditch. What do you know about Quidditch? You know lots about Quidditch. Quick, say something about Quidditch before this silence gets awkward. Why do you suddenly not know anything about Quidditch?

The effects of your racing mind are written across face, your features contorted in worry and a lasting skepticism as you glance up at James every so often.

James is glancing at you too, finding every little crease and contour from your worried look endearing as silent laughter bubbles in his chest.

"Alright, what's that face?" James finally asks, his tone as gentle as possible as not to make you uncomfortable.

Your expression softens into sheepishness. James looks at you with such kindness that you find yourself voicing your concerns.

"We're friends?" you ask in a small, hesitant voice.

James is quick to defend his claim, "I've known you since we were kids!"

"We haven't spoken since we were kids," you say.

He seems to deflate at your words, faltering as he experiences a moment of speechlessness.

"Besides," you go on, a hint of smugness creeping up on you, "we've known everyone at this school since we were kids. Does that make us friends with everyone?"

James is quick to shake his head. "Not everyone was as kind as you back then."

Any trace of smugness has been quickly expunged and replaced by a fluttering in your stomach as his eyes fill with what you would call admiration if you didn't know any better.

"And you were exceptionally kind," he adds on, not helping ease the butterflies in your stomach. "Though you're right. I should've talked to you. I don't know why I didn't talk to you more."

"It's okay," you say in a small voice, prompting you to clear your throat before you continue, "We're talking now."

James smiles that radiant, charming smile that makes you swoon. Before silence can settle over you James' face lights up as an idea pops into his head.

"Have you even been on the Quidditch Pitch at night? I mean, when there's no game going on?"

You shake your head, your eyebrows creasing as you find his question rather random. Before you've fully grasped what he's implying, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the castle.

A gasp escapes your lips as he tugs you along, his enthusiasm and long strides causing him to race ahead without realizing how fast he’s moving. It's only when you're outside that you find your voice again.

"James!"

He slows his pace and drops your hand. For a moment, he looks almost embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders as he lacks an excuse for his sudden burst of energy.

You shake your head with a smile. “Some things never change. Do you ever take a deep breath and just mellow out?” you ask, noticing with amusement that he’s just as hyperactive now as he was when you were kids.

James makes a big show of taking a long, deep breath as he falls into step with you at a much more leisurely pace than before.

You shake your head again, chuckling.

"Some things do change, by the way. For example, you were taller than me back then," he says, resting his elbow on the top of your head to emphasize the difference.

You jerk your head away, playfully retorting, "Everyone was taller than you."

"Shut up!" he laughs, letting his arm fall to his side. He's close enough that his arm brushes against yours as you walk. You feel the shake of his laughs against your skin and you can't help but giggle along.

It doesn't take long to walk to the quidditch pitch. The walk felt shorter than it does on game days, but maybe that's because you didn't have James to walk with.

You follow James out to the very center of the field, where he wastes no time to plop down into the grass. "Lay with me," he says, crossing his arms behind his head. "You can see all the stars from out here," he says to convince you.

"You come out here a lot?" you ask as you sink down beside him. The grass tickles your skin as you lay down.

"I've been coming out here since I was a first year," James reveals. "I used to lay in the grass, just like this, and imagine what I would look like flying above dodging bludgers and scoring winning goals."

"Yeah?"

James hums affirmatively. "I've always loved Quidditch. Wanted to play for as long as I can remember. And then I came to Hogwarts, and Merlin, I thought the Quidditch players were so cool. Wanted to be like them so bad."

"What does it feel like?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you’re the one first years are looking up to now."

"No, they're not," James scoffs in complete disbelief.

"James," you deadpan, thinking he can't be serious. "You're the Gryffindor captain and rightfully so. One of the best chasers Hogwarts has probably ever seen. I mean, way you escaped that bludger last weekend?” you muse. “Not to mention the Chudley Chop Down you pulled off. You looked just like the professionals, it was incredible!"

James is caught at a loss for words again, a rare occurrence for him, but you've managed to make it happen twice now.

You clear your throat, realizing how you've just raved on about him to his face. You excuse yourself with, "I, um, I really like Quidditch."

James blinks away the awestricken glint in his eyes, responding, "Figured as much. Don't think I've ever played a game I haven't seen you in the crowd of. But enough about me," he continues. "What about you and your achievements, eh?”

“What are you talking about?”

"Don't be coy. You have to be the brightest witch at Hogwarts."

"No, that's–"

"C'mon I've seen the marks you get. And no one gets Gryffindor more house points in class than you do. All the professors love you; Slughorn always seats you to his right at Slug Club meetings. And I thought Minnie had a soft spot for me but then I saw how she talks to you."

"Maybe if you called her Professor McGonagall once in a while," you tease, trying to distract him from showering you with anymore compliments to spare your heart from racing any longer.

"Wouldn't matter. She likes you because you're smart. Driven too. She knows you’ll do great things after school. Everyone knows you'll be one of the most successful in our class."

"I hardly think anyone notices me,” you say, nervously ripping up blades of grass from the ground.

"I have," he says, looking at you with so much fondness it takes your breath away.

Your eyes widen, sparkling with warm astonishment at all his kind words. James notices the way your parted lips curve into a small, shy smile. Slowly, it grows into a grin.

He nudges you, "Now what's that look for?"

"This is just... unexpected."

"Unexpected?"

"I mean I didn't realize you remembered by name, let alone knew anything about me."

James' expression is tinted with disbelief. He removes his arms from behind his head as he angles his body slightly toward you, gearing towards something serious. "Of course I did. When I said you were kind to me back then, you were really the only one who was. How could I forget you?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as James sighs deeply.

"Merlin, I really should have talked to you more," he says, shaking his head.

"It's okay–"

"No," he insists, "I should have talked to you more. I don't know why I didn't– I mean I do know why I just..."

You swallow hard, giving yourself time to find your voice. "There's a reason?" you ask.

James turns his head, shifting back against the grass as his gaze finding the stars above him. You can see the moon reflecting in his eyes as he bathes in its light. He looks ethereal like this.

"You make me nervous," he's able to admit in the comfort of not having to see your reaction, pretending it’s just him and the moon out here.

Your jaw goes slack. You'd sooner think you're being pranked or he's under some kind of spell than to believe his words.

"What?" you finally utter. Your hand freezes with a chunk of freshly ripped up grass held hostage between your fingertips.

James chuckles, "You were so nice to me. And I always thought you were so pretty I– every time you said something kind to me I would get so red in the face."

You're silent, at a loss for words as you try to wrap your mind around his admission. If the tips of his ears hadn't turned red, you'd think he's lying.

"I mean everything made me nervous back then," he continues. "Thank Merlin I grew out of that, but you..."

James finally looks at you again, his eyes darting across your face as he absorbs your reaction. Carefully, he takes hold of your wrist, placing your palm flat on his chest, over his heart.

"You still make my heart race," he says quietly, and you can feel the proof under your fingertips.

Words make their way past your lips almost instinctively, driven by a desire to reassure him. "I... I was too nervous to talk to you too."

The fondness in his eyes grows even warmer, and he begins tracing gentle lines on the back of your wrist with the pad of his thumb. "It's alright," he says. His tone is genuine and hopeful as he continues, "We're talking now," he repeats your words from earlier with newfound affection. "And I'd really like it if we could keep talking."

"Yeah," you say. A wave of courage washes over you, and you adjust your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. "Me too."

After that, you find yourself out here a lot more often, staring at the stars with James, your fingers intertwined. You're both much more comfortable around each other now, but from time to time, you still make each other's heart race.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[knife-eared-jan]

Ok, as much as I have been hyping and playing 12 hours a day since it got out (still in Act 1 though, bc I'm a slowass player and completionist), I feel like I have to say something that is getting hard to ignore at this point... and I wanna preface this by saying that I am loving a lot of aspects of the game and I adore the writing when it comes to the companions, who I am obsessed with.

And maybe this will get better yet, as I generally heard the writing picks up once the story progresses beyond picking up all companions..

But I'm starting to get quite upset at the way the writing just does NOT care about the established lore and the politics of Thedas like at all, when to me - and many others - that richness, nuance and depth of the world is what makes the games so special.

(Spoilers below)

I looked past the way the elves in Arlathan just seemed to know that their gods are evil and Solas is "kind of a dick" but was right about that. When, you know, that made him basically the Satan of their pantheon up to now.. It was after all the tutorial stage of the game and I understand that you wanna ease newcomers into the lore. I could also handwave it in-universe with Morrigan being there - she could have filled the Veiljumpers in on the discoveries of the Inquisition or even what the Well told her.

It felt a bit weird that our contacts in every other faction just accepted this huge revelation without a blink, but again it was the early stages and I also get that having a discussion about it 6 times with different faction leaders would have been incredibly tedious. So I ignored that. And yeah, at least the First Warden found it hard to swallow.

The fact that they brushed aside the gods finding elven subjects - many of whom after all still worship them - with one sentence from Solas was disappointing though. Instead they chose to ally them with the Venatori and the Antaam who are the pure evil factions with no nuance or motive to side with them besides a comic book level of hunger for power. They didn't even throw in a sentence about the gods maybe speaking to the Venatori through the Archdemons to get them on their side or how it's very ironic that the Venatori, who want to make Tevinter great again, stoop to working with the pantheon of the people they oppress because they see them as lesser and other. No political exploration of the massive lore implications at all.

It really hit me when I picked up Davrin and he commented how Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain blighting the world would really endear us (elves) to the rest of Thedas - this was the first time anyone actually mentioned the political impact of the elven gods being real, freed, evil and blighted on modern day elves at all, when this should be HUGE. It should be ugly. It should be complex. It should be explored in as many examples as bloodmagic and the oppression of mages was in DA2. It should be a central point of Act 1. (This btw made me love Davrin so much in that moment because this was the first time in the game for me when I actually felt like talking to a Dragon Age elf and even just that one line felt like home.)

And now I just did Taash's first companion quest and it seems Qunari lore is also being ignored (except for the gender aspect of it, which I look forward to). Taash's mum was a scholar and had a baby and the only problem about that was that it could breathe fire and was special but otherwise all would have been dandy? Like she would have just been allowed to keep Taash long enough to find that out about her baby if she was living under the Qun? That directly contradicts everything we know about how the Qunari's culture around reproduction and childcare works.

Sorry to be negative and talking myself into a rage - I know it's not something people want to see rn. But like, I realise you have to brush over some lore intricacies for brevity and to make it digestible for new players. But this is a world initially inspired by Wheel of Time and ASOIAF, both of which are interesting because of the depth of ficitional cultures, lore and politics, and hence it's also what gives Dragon Age its appeal. And now they take us to the most politcally interesting areas on the world map and just get rid of all of political depth?

That's really disappointing. Imagine if Winds of Winter dropped all political themes just because there's several previous books and it's been some a lot of years.

Also, I managed to play DA2 before I ever played Origins and they could introduce me to a vast established background of lore just fine back then.

Sorry. Rant over. But I had to get that out of my system.

[solxamber]

Hi! Just wanted to say I’m in love with your TWST writing. Was just reading the white rabbit series and I’m hooked. In part 3 we see that White Rabbit! Reader is 100% not ok, mostly because nothing has changed. They still have all their work to do, all their school work, all the “requests” from the NRC boys and staff, and they are STILL being teased. Sure the teasing may have changed a little but it’s still there. Reader is still being brushed aside, not listened to. Characters like Crewel and Leona may say they like the change, and that kinda hurts? They like reader being burnt out and just so worn down? Everyone seems to have comments on what they think, but have they asked what our little rabbit thinks? What reader feels? Do any of them realize just how much our White Rabbit actually does for everyone?

I kinda want to see White Rabbit! Reader snap again and just get teary eyed and say how the other overblots got support and can change, but reader still has a role. Reader can’t stop doing their work. They just can’t care anymore because it’s clear others don’t care about them. If others think it’s so good for them to be like this then what does that mean? Reader doesn’t want to be stressed out. They don’t want to lash out and hurt others, they never did. But they just feel so worn and done with it all.

IDK I just see it being such good hurt/comfort fic material. Rabbits may be prey but they aren’t just weak and defenseless. Our little rabbit thought has just had enough. I’d love to see your take on this.

Hope you’re doing well!

White Rabbit! Reader Aftermath

Original Ask ; Rabbit Overblots ; Overblot Aftermath

Characters: All NRC + Staff, Rollo, Neige, Che'nya

hi! I'm sorry it took so long, it went way too long and got out of hand. i hope you like it <3

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle noticed something was wrong. It was in the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of another endless list of tasks. It was in the way your normally brisk pace had slowed, as if each step you took was through quicksand. But he didn't say anything—not at first.

You were always like this, weren’t you? Always running late, always fretting about something. He just assumed it was your usual nervous nature.

Except, it wasn't.

The change was subtle, but there was something different in your eyes now. Something darker. You still did the work, you still completed each task with quiet efficiency, but the politeness had taken on an edge of detachment. You weren’t anxious anymore—you were done.

"Here's the report you wanted," you said one evening, handing him a set of documents. Your voice was flat, no longer laced with the apprehension he’d grown used to. There was no fidgeting, no desperate need for approval in your tone.

Riddle paused, looking up from his desk. "Is everything alright?" The question was curt, almost accusatory, as if he was more irritated by your change in demeanor than concerned.

You gave him a tired smile. "Does it matter?"

His brows furrowed. "Of course it matters! You’ve been acting strange."

You laughed—a bitter, hollow sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “Strange? No, Riddle, I’ve been tired. You’ve never noticed that before, have you?”

The air between you stilled, a suffocating weight pressing down as he processed your words. You were always so compliant, so willing to go along with everything. He’d assumed you preferred it that way. After all, hadn’t you always done your work without complaint?

But now, seeing the exhaustion etched into your face, the lifelessness behind your eyes, he realized he’d been wrong. He’d taken your compliance as a given, never once considering the toll it had been taking on you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, but the question felt hollow even as it left his lips.

“Would you have listened?” you shot back, your voice soft but cutting. “When have any of you ever really listened to what I have to say?”

Riddle swallowed hard, the sting of your words settling deep in his chest. He prided himself on fairness, on order, but he hadn’t been fair to you. He hadn’t been listening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something that felt dangerously close to vulnerability. “I should have seen it. I didn’t realize how much I was asking of you."

You shook your head, not in anger, but in resignation. “I’m not asking for much, Riddle. I just need someone to care. Really care.”

For the first time, Riddle felt helpless, unsure of how to fix what had been broken between you. But he stepped forward, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to offer some comfort—an unspoken promise to do better.

“I’ll be better,” he murmured, “for you.”

Trey Clover:

Trey always noticed things. The way you bit your lip when you were nervous, the way your eyes darted around as if you were constantly expecting something to go wrong. But now, things were different.

It wasn’t the nervous energy that worried him. It was the stillness.

You sat at the table in the Heartslabyul kitchen, staring blankly at the open textbook in front of you. You had come to help him prepare for the next Unbirthday Party, like you always did, but tonight you barely spoke.

Trey placed a cup of tea in front of you, watching as you absently reached for it. “You okay?” he asked gently.

You blinked, as if snapping out of a daze, and gave him a tired smile. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. You hadn’t been for a while now.

Trey sat down across from you, resting his elbows on the table as he studied your face. “You don’t look fine. You’ve been quiet lately. More than usual.”

You shrugged, staring down into your cup. “Just tired, I guess.”

Trey wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t good with words, not in the way Cater or Riddle were. But he didn’t need words to see that something was wrong. The way your hands trembled slightly as you held the cup, the way your shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“You’ve been overworking yourself, haven’t you?” he asked, voice soft but firm.

You let out a dry laugh. “When am I not overworked?”

Trey frowned. “That’s not fair to you.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed quietly, setting the cup down. “But it’s what’s expected, isn’t it? Someone has to keep things running smoothly.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. His fingers were warm, steady—a stark contrast to the coldness you felt creeping into your bones.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You can ask for help.”

You shook your head, the weight of his kindness almost unbearable. “And burden everyone else? I don’t want to be a problem.”

Trey’s grip on your hand tightened slightly. “You’re not a problem. You’re important. To all of us.”

You looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time that night, and the sincerity in his eyes nearly broke you. He meant it. He really meant it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ve just been so tired, Trey. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He stood then, moving around the table to pull you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet strength that made you feel safe—really safe—for the first time in weeks.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head. “I’ve got you.”

Cater Diamond:

Cater was all smiles and sunshine. That’s what people saw. But he noticed things—small things, cracks in people’s facades. He was an expert at it because he had so many cracks of his own.

So, when he saw you dragging yourself through the day, your usual nervous energy replaced by something much darker, much heavier, he didn’t ignore it.

“Hey! Let’s take a selfie!” he chirped, pulling out his phone as he bounced over to you.

You blinked, staring at him like you hadn’t heard a word. “I’m not in the mood, Cater.”

Cater paused, lowering his phone. That was definitely not like you. Normally, even if you were frazzled, you’d humor him. You always did.

“You sure?” he asked, tilting his head as he scrutinized your face. “You’re looking kinda down, you know.”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes. “I’m just… tired, Cater. I’m really tired."

Cater dropped the playful act immediately, his smile fading as he tucked his phone away. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No one wants to hear me complain.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he said, sitting down next to you, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “I’m here for you, okay? What’s up?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as the weight of everything threatened to crash down on you. “It’s just… everything. No one listens. No one notices. I do all this work, and no one cares. It’s like I’m invisible.”

Cater frowned, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, that’s not true. We care. I care.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “Do you? Do any of you? Or am I just the White Rabbit, always running around, doing everyone’s bidding, never being heard?”

Cater’s heart ached at the pain in your voice. He’d been so wrapped up in his own facade, his own distractions, that he hadn’t realized just how much you were hurting.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his usual playful tone replaced with sincerity. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve asked sooner.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes as you tried to hold yourself together. “It’s not your fault. I just… I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Cater pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he whispered, “You’re not alone, okay? You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us."

Ace Trappola:

Ace wasn’t exactly the most sensitive person in the world, but even he wasn’t oblivious to the way you had been acting lately. You were quieter than usual, more withdrawn. It wasn’t like you at all.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Ace asked as he plopped down next to you in the courtyard, his usual smirk in place. “You’ve been acting super weird lately.”

You didn’t even look up from your book. “I’m fine.”

Ace narrowed his eyes. “Nah, you’re not. You

Ace narrowed his eyes. “Nah, you’re not. You’re like, super off. What’s going on? You never act like this.”

You finally looked up from your book, your expression weary and drained, like someone who had been running for far too long. “I’m just… tired, Ace.”

“Tired?” He scoffed, nudging your shoulder. “We all get tired, but you look like you’re about to keel over.”

You sighed, closing the book and turning to face him. “It’s not that kind of tired. It’s the kind of tired where you’ve been working non-stop, doing everything everyone asks of you, and no one ever bothers to ask if you need help.”

Ace blinked, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. He opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning as if he didn’t quite know how to respond. “Wait, is this about all the stuff we’ve been asking you to do? ‘Cause I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Ace,” you interrupted, voice tight with frustration. “No one ever thinks. You all just assume I’ll do it, and I do, because I don’t want to let anyone down. But I’m tired. I’m so tired.”

He shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I… I didn’t realize it was that bad. I just figured you liked doing stuff like that—keeping busy, you know?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Liked it? I do it because I don’t have a choice. You all ask, and I say yes because that’s what’s expected of me. But no one ever asks if I’m okay, or if I need a break.”

Ace’s smirk was gone now, replaced with an uncharacteristic seriousness. He didn’t like feeling guilty—he hated it, in fact—but there was no denying the weight of your words.

“...Damn,” he muttered, looking away. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to… you know, pile all that stuff on you.”

You slumped back against the bench, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “It’s not just you. It’s everyone. But I appreciate the apology.”

Ace was quiet for a moment before he nudged you again, a little gentler this time. “Hey, listen. I’m not exactly good at this whole feelings thing, but… you don’t have to do all this alone, okay? Next time you’re feeling burnt out, just say something. I’m not completely heartless, you know.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Ace said with a grin, his usual cocky tone returning. “And don’t worry, I’ll be the first to jump in and tell everyone to back off. I got your back.”

For the first time in a while, you felt a little lighter. “Thanks, Ace.”

Deuce Spade:

Deuce always noticed when something was off, especially when it came to people he cared about. So when you started acting distant, quieter than usual, it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it.

He found you one afternoon sitting by the fountain, staring blankly at the water. You didn’t even notice when he approached, lost in your own thoughts.

“Hey,” Deuce said softly, sitting down beside you. “You okay?”

You blinked, looking over at him like you hadn’t even realized he was there. “Oh. Deuce. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He frowned, not buying it for a second. “You don’t look fine. You’ve been really quiet lately.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a lot.”

Deuce tilted his head, his concern growing. “A lot of what?”

You hesitated, unsure if you should even bother explaining. But then again, Deuce wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t someone who would brush you off or tease you for feeling overwhelmed.

“It’s just… everything,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “All the tasks, the work, the pressure. It’s like no one ever stops to think about how much I have on my plate. I keep doing everything they ask because I don’t want to let anyone down, but I’m at my limit.”

Deuce’s frown deepened. He had always admired your work ethic, your ability to handle so much without complaint. But now, seeing you like this—so drained, so worn out—it hurt him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” he said quietly, his voice laced with guilt. “Why didn’t you say something?”

You shook your head, your eyes cast down. “Would anyone have listened?”

Deuce was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched as he processed your words. He hated that you had been carrying this burden alone, that you felt like no one cared enough to notice. He wasn’t good with words, but he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve done something sooner.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Deuce. I just… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Deuce said, his tone resolute. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But even strong people need help sometimes.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the weight on your shoulders lighten just a little.

Deuce reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll help you, okay? Whatever you need, just say the word.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you, Deuce.”

He smiled, a soft, reassuring smile that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.

And in that moment, sitting by the fountain with Deuce by your side, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona was lounging in his usual spot in the botanical garden, eyes half-lidded as he observed you marching around like some overworked servant. It had been days since your overblot, but not much had changed for you. The requests from students, the impossible deadlines from professors, the teasing from those who had the nerve to think your meekness made you an easy target—it was all still there. But now, there was something else in you too: a biting cynicism that wasn’t there before.

And Leona noticed.

“You’re looking different these days, Herbivore,” Leona drawled from his spot, smirking when you paused to look at him. “I like it. That whole ‘cynical, done-with-everyone’s-bullshit’ vibe suits you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head and trying to ignore him. “Yeah, well. I guess you could say I’ve had a change in perspective.”

Leona raised a brow, sitting up slightly. “About time. You were way too nice, always letting people walk all over you. This version of you? It’s more interesting.”

You should’ve been fine with his words. Normally, you would’ve brushed it off, even if the new cynicism was a product of your exhaustion and burnout. But hearing Leona praise you for being this way, like the months of silent suffering were a badge of honor—it was too much.

You dropped your books and spun around, the words spilling out before you could stop yourself. “Interesting?! You think this is interesting? I’ve been running myself into the ground, doing everything everyone asks of me because I’m too tired to say no. I’m burned out, Leona. I’m not ‘more interesting,’ I’m barely holding it together!”

Your voice broke at the end, and before you knew it, you were trembling. All the stress, all the exhaustion, it came pouring out in one unguarded moment.

Leona blinked, taken aback by your outburst. He hadn’t expected you to break down like this. Slowly, he stood up from his spot and approached you, his usual lazy expression replaced by something more serious.

“Hey,” he said, his voice lower now, gentler. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You tried to hold back the tears, but it was too late. Your whole body was shaking with the weight of everything you’d been carrying, and the stress of it all finally crashed over you like a wave. You covered your face with your hands, overwhelmed and embarrassed.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Leona sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. Comforting people wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but seeing you like this—it stirred something in him.

“Alright, alright, come here,” he muttered, pulling you into a loose hug, his arms warm and strong around you. “You don’t gotta keep doing everything, you know? I know I give you a hard time, but even I don’t think you should burn out like this.”

You hesitated, but then let yourself lean into him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you tried to calm down.

“I just… I don’t know how to stop,” you whispered.

Leona sighed again, holding you a little tighter. “Then maybe it’s time to start saying no. And if people give you grief, send ‘em my way. I’ll take care of it.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the absurdity of Leona offering to help in his own gruff way almost making you feel a little better. Almost.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice still small but a little more steady. “I… I needed that.”

He didn’t respond, just held you a little longer until your breathing finally evened out. And though he didn’t say it, you could tell—despite his teasing, despite his indifference—Leona wasn’t about to let you crumble under the pressure. Not on his watch.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie had always been good at picking up on little details. As someone who thrived on reading people, it wasn’t hard for him to notice that something was up with you. The way you dragged your feet through the halls, the forced smile you’d plaster on whenever someone asked you for a favor—it wasn’t hard to tell you were burning out.

“Oi, you look like you’ve been run over by a stampede,” Ruggie commented, popping up beside you in the cafeteria one afternoon. He snatched a bite of your sandwich before you could react, grinning when you barely even protested. “What’s up with you? You’re usually a little more, I dunno, lively.”

You glanced at him, too tired to even scold him for stealing your food. “I’m just tired, Ruggie. Really tired.”

Ruggie raised a brow, his grin faltering a little. “Tired? Like, you haven’t slept? Or tired like ‘I’m about to drop dead from all the stuff I’ve been doing for other people’ tired?”

You gave him a look, and he immediately understood. “Ahh, the second one, huh? That’s rough, man.”

You sighed, pushing your tray away. “It’s just… it’s a lot. I keep doing everything everyone asks, and no one ever stops to think that maybe I need a break. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

Ruggie frowned, his usual mischievous expression softening. He wasn’t one for heartfelt speeches, but he knew what it was like to be overworked and overlooked. He had spent most of his life like that, after all.

“Hey, look, you don’t gotta do everything, y’know?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “People here? They’ll keep asking as long as you keep saying yes. But if you’re feeling wiped, maybe it’s time to start saying no. You’re not a machine.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Easier said than done.”

Ruggie shrugged, snatching another bite of your food before giving you a playful grin. “Well, if it helps, I’ll start saying no for you. Anyone bothers you, just send ‘em my way. I can be real convincing when I wanna be.”

You smiled, a small, genuine one this time. “Thanks, Ruggie.”

“No problem,” he said, his grin widening. “And hey, don’t stress. I’ve got your back.”

Jack Howl:

Jack had always been observant, especially when it came to his friends. So when you started acting different—quieter, more withdrawn—it didn’t take long for him to notice. He wasn’t the type to pry, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

One afternoon, he found you sitting outside the gym, your head in your hands. He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You okay?”

You looked up, surprised to see him. “Oh, Jack. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He frowned, his golden eyes narrowing. “You don’t look fine.”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a lot.”

Jack sat down beside you, his posture straight and steady. “A lot of what?”

You hesitated, but something about Jack’s calm presence made it easier to open up. “Everything. School, work, everyone asking me for favors. It’s like no one ever thinks I might need a break. I just… I don’t know how to keep up.”

Jack was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. He had always admired your work ethic, but seeing you so worn out—it didn’t sit right with him.

“You don’t have to do it all alone, you know,” Jack said, his voice steady. “You’ve always been there for everyone else. Let me be there for you this time.”

You blinked, surprised by his words. Jack wasn’t usually one for grand gestures, but his sincerity was unmistakable.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you murmured.

“You’re not a burden,” Jack said firmly, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But even the strongest need help sometimes.”

The weight of his words hit you, and for the first time in days, you felt like you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

“Thanks, Jack,” you said softly, your heart feeling a little lighter.

He nodded, his usual serious expression softening into a small, reassuring smile. “Anytime.”

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul was a businessman at heart, sharp-eyed and always aware of people’s shifts in demeanor. He had noticed, of course, that your usually skittish nature had dulled over the past few weeks. At first, he’d dismissed it as another bout of anxiety, something he could handle with a few soft words or requests framed as favors. But now, after your overblot, he couldn’t ignore the change.

The sharp edge of your exhaustion was a palpable thing.

He found you in the library, surrounded by textbooks, scribbling notes with a frenetic energy that felt more like desperation than focus. He watched you for a moment, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he adjusted them.

“Ah, there you are,” he said smoothly, striding over to you. “I’ve been meaning to discuss our little arrangement. It seems you haven’t fulfilled your duties as of late.”

You didn’t even look up. “Not now, Azul.”

Azul blinked. That was… new. Usually, your nervousness kicked in the moment you even thought you’d disappointed him. Now? Nothing. Just tired resignation.

He sat down across from you, leaning forward. “You seem… different, lately.”

You sighed, setting your pen down with a shaky hand. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Azul’s confidence faltered. “You’re… not going to elaborate?”

Finally, you met his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Azul? That I’m fine? That everything is just peachy? Because it’s not. I’m tired. And not in the ‘oh, I need a nap’ way. In the ‘I don’t know how to keep going’ way.”

His brows furrowed. That wasn’t what he expected. Azul wasn’t always the best at handling raw emotion, especially when it wasn’t something he could exploit or fix with a contract. But for some reason, hearing you say that struck a chord in him he didn’t often feel.

“Have you… considered taking a break?” he offered, almost hesitant.

You laughed, a bitter sound that made his stomach twist uncomfortably. “A break? When? Between the assignments, the favors, the expectations? When would I possibly have time for that?”

Azul was silent, watching the weight of your words settle in the air between you. For once, he didn’t have a calculated response. He didn’t know what to say to someone who was clearly at the end of their rope.

After a moment, he placed his hands on the table, fingers lacing together. “Perhaps I’ve asked too much of you. I… didn’t realize the extent.”

You shook your head, eyes distant. “It’s not just you, Azul. It’s everything.”

And for the first time, Azul didn’t know how to respond with anything but quiet understanding.

Jade Leech:

Jade had always been observant. His eyes tracked your movements from the moment you entered the lounge, slower, more deliberate than usual. Your once-anxious energy had dulled into something colder, more cynical. There was no hesitation in your step now, but there was no spark either.

He approached you, ever the gentleman, with a soft smile. “Ah, Prefect, it’s good to see you. I hope you’re not overworking yourself.”

You gave him a look, flat and unimpressed. “Funny.”

Jade raised an eyebrow at your tone. “I was being sincere.”

“Yeah, sure.” You walked past him, barely acknowledging his presence. Jade felt something akin to amusement, though there was an edge of concern to it. He followed after you, steps as smooth as ever.

“I must say, your demeanor has changed since the… incident.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “You mean the overblot? Yeah, I guess that’ll change a person.”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “You seem less… timid.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of being scared,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s exhausting.”

Jade tilted his head, studying you with a quiet intensity. “I see. And this exhaustion—how do you plan to handle it?”

You let out a sharp laugh, devoid of humor. “Handle it? I don’t know, Jade. How do you handle it when you’re expected to do everything and still be okay?”

He paused, not expecting such bluntness from you. His smile softened just a fraction. “Perhaps you should give yourself permission to fail once in a while.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. Jade rarely dropped his formal, polite mask, but there was something almost… genuine in his suggestion. For once, he wasn’t teasing or testing you. He was offering something that felt like understanding.

“I’ll try,” you said softly, feeling a lump in your throat. “I’ll try.”

Floyd Leech:

Floyd had always loved messing with you. You were jumpy, reactive, and so easy to fluster. It was fun, in the way that poking at a small, defenseless animal was fun to a predator. But now? Now you didn’t react at all.

He leaned over your shoulder one day in the cafeteria, poking your cheek. “Heyyyy, Rabbity, whatcha doin’? You’re not runnin’ away from me today?”

You barely spared him a glance. “Not today, Floyd.”

Floyd blinked, frowning at your monotone response. Usually, you’d stammer, scurry away, or at least give him something fun to work with. Now? Nothing.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re no fun anymore.” He flopped down beside you, pouting dramatically. “You’re always so serious now.”

You sighed, not even looking up from your food. “Maybe I’m tired of being the punchline, Floyd.”

That made him pause. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Huh?”

“I said,” you turned to face him, eyes weary and tired, “I’m tired, Floyd. I’m tired of always being the one everyone messes with. I’m tired of being everyone’s joke.”

Floyd’s pout deepened, but now there was confusion in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that… It’s just fun, y’know?”

“Well, it’s not fun for me anymore,” you said quietly, turning back to your food.

Floyd didn’t say anything for a long moment, his usual mischievous energy fizzling out. He wasn’t good at dealing with… feelings. But something about the way you looked—so small, so tired—made his chest feel tight in a way he didn’t like.

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re no fun when you’re all sad like this.”

You snorted softly. “Yeah, well. Life isn’t always fun.”

Floyd stayed silent for a while, the frown still on his face. Then, suddenly, he draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Don’t get all boring on me, okay? I like it when Shrimpy’s feisty.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, just a little. It was a weak sound, but it was something. Floyd grinned at that, squeezing you tighter.

“See? There’s the Rabbity I like.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim had always been sunshine, too bright for his own good. He’d been one of the few who never seemed to notice how much the constant pressure was getting to you. His joy and excitement for life often overshadowed the quieter struggles of those around him, including you.

After your overblot, Kalim’s usual exuberance had dimmed. He’d been visibly shaken, his bright smile faltering when he saw you again. He greeted you with his usual enthusiasm, but there was a tremor of uncertainty in his voice.

“Hey! How are you feeling? Do you want to have a party? To celebrate you feeling better?”

You glanced up at him, eyes hollow. “I’m fine, Kalim.”

He tilted his head, concerned. “Are you sure? You don’t sound fine. Maybe some music and dancing will cheer you up!”

Normally, his carefree energy might’ve been endearing, but today it grated on your nerves. You shook your head, feeling the weight of your exhaustion press down harder. “I’m tired, Kalim.”

His smile wavered. “Oh… well, we can have a quiet party then! Just you, me, and Jamil. We don’t even have to dance if you don’t want to.”

You sighed, finally looking at him, and the moment he saw the weariness in your eyes, his face fell. The ever-bubbly Kalim looked… lost.

“Kalim,” you said, rubbing your temples, “I’m tired. Really tired. And it’s not the kind of tired that a party can fix.”

Kalim’s eyes widened. “Oh… I didn’t realize you were that tired.” He shifted, fidgeting with his bracelets. “I don’t like seeing you like this. You’re always working so hard, and I thought maybe I could make you smile...”

Your heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. Kalim, for all his obliviousness, genuinely cared. His way of expressing it might have been overwhelming, but there was no doubt that his concern was real.

“I appreciate it,” you said softly, giving him a small, tired smile. “But right now, I just need to rest.”

Kalim’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “Okay, no party then. Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, alright?”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Kalim.”

He smiled again, softer this time, but still as warm as ever. “Anything for you.”

Jamil Viper:

Jamil was observant—painfully so. Unlike Kalim, he’d seen the signs of your burnout long before you reached the point of overblotting. But Jamil, being Jamil, hadn’t stepped in. Not because he didn’t care, but because he knew what it was like to carry the weight of responsibilities without complaint. In his eyes, everyone had their burdens to bear.

Still, seeing you now, after everything, was unsettling.

You were in Scarabia, helping Kalim with some menial task that Jamil knew could’ve been handled by literally anyone else. Your once jittery energy had dulled to something almost robotic, and Jamil couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

He approached you cautiously, arms crossed. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

You didn’t look up from your work. “Just tired.”

Jamil’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been ‘just tired’ for a while now.”

You sighed, finally pausing and turning to face him. “I overblotted, Jamil. What do you expect?”

He didn’t flinch at your words, but the tension in the air thickened. Jamil had always been blunt, but seeing you like this stirred something in him that he didn’t quite like.

“Overblot or not, you’re still here, doing things that aren’t your responsibility,” he said, voice flat. “Why?”

“Because if I don’t, who will?” you snapped, the bitterness in your voice surprising even yourself. You were sick of it. Sick of doing everything and being noticed for nothing. “Everyone expects me to keep going, so I keep going.”

Jamil’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, perhaps. He had been part of that cycle, hadn’t he? Always asking, always expecting, never really considering how much you were carrying on your own.

After a moment, he sighed, his voice softer than usual. “You don’t have to keep going like this, you know.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden gentleness in his tone. “What?”

“You don’t have to be everything to everyone,” Jamil continued, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re trapped in expectations, but… burning yourself out won’t fix anything.”

For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t like Jamil to be so direct about emotions—at least, not with you. He always kept a safe distance, but now, he was offering something more genuine.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Jamil’s gaze softened, just slightly. “You’re not alone in this. You have people who care. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to crack the walls you’d built around yourself. The exhaustion, the stress, it all felt a little lighter in that moment.

“Thanks, Jamil,” you said quietly, giving him a tired smile.

Jamil gave a small nod, his usual stoicism returning. “Just… try not to overwork yourself again. I have enough on my plate with Kalim.”

You chuckled, the sound weak but genuine. “I’ll try.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil had always been a stickler for perfection. His eyes caught every flaw, every imperfection, even the ones that others didn’t notice—or couldn’t care about. So, it was no surprise when he caught you slouching, your hair slightly disheveled, and your usual anxious attention to detail completely absent.

You were exhausted—burnt out to the point where nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Vil clicked his tongue in disapproval as he crossed his arms. “You’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you?”

His tone was sharp, but the comment barely made a dent in your shell of apathy. You just blinked up at him, too tired to even flinch at the judgment.

“Yeah,” you muttered, barely audible. “I guess I have.”

Vil’s violet eyes narrowed, and he placed a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “This isn’t like you. The White Rabbit I know was always meticulous, even when the rest of you was a mess.”

The words echoed in the air, but you didn’t respond. You knew he wasn’t wrong. The old you would’ve scrambled to fix your appearance, to make sure you lived up to Vil’s impossible standards. But now, you felt too tired to care. What did it matter?

Vil’s frown deepened as he studied you, and something flickered in his gaze—something like concern. “You’re not even going to argue?” he asked, voice softer than before.

You shrugged, staring at your hands. “What’s the point?”

For a moment, there was silence. Vil wasn’t used to this—this version of you that didn’t rise to meet his expectations or bristle under his critiques. The fire that once kept you moving, always trying to prove yourself, was gone.

And it scared him.

Vil stepped closer, his sharpness fading as he crouched slightly to meet your gaze. “What’s going on with you?”

You finally looked up at him, your eyes hollow and tired. “I’m just… tired, Vil. I don’t care anymore. About any of it.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the perfect image of Vil Schoenheit cracked. He saw the depth of your exhaustion—the weight you’d been carrying for so long. He realized, maybe for the first time, that your relentless need to keep up with him had finally broken you.

Without a word, he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. “You don’t have to keep doing this. Not for me, not for anyone.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing as the apathy began to crumble. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head. “But if I don’t, who will?”

Vil’s expression softened in a way that you rarely saw. “I’m not asking for perfection. Not from you.” He paused, squeezing your shoulder lightly. “I just want you to be okay.”

That was it. The dam broke, and tears streamed down your face as you finally let go of the weight you’d been carrying. Vil didn’t say anything more, just stayed by your side, offering a silent presence as you let yourself fall apart.

Rook Hunt:

Rook Hunt was, in every way, overwhelming. His poetic flair, his dramatic declarations of admiration, and his constant observations—usually about things you wished he wouldn’t notice—had been a source of both irritation and amusement in your life. But now, you found yourself unable to muster even the faintest reaction to his eccentricity.

He had been watching you, of course. Rook always noticed everything, and this time was no different. He approached you with a grin, as though he had a secret only the two of you would understand.

“Mon lapin! You seem to have taken on a new air of mystery, how delightful!” His voice was filled with excitement, expecting a reaction—your usual nervous laughter or maybe a shy protest.

But instead, you just stared blankly at him. “Yeah. Sure, Rook.”

For a brief second, his smile faltered, his eyes scanning your face carefully. You weren’t biting back, weren’t stammering nervously or trying to evade his intense gaze. You were just… blank.

“Something is amiss, non?” His voice softened, a rare gentleness creeping in as he knelt beside you, lowering himself to your eye level. “You’re not yourself today, mon ami.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I don’t know if I even know who that is anymore.”

Rook tilted his head, his usual theatrics fading. “Ah, you are weary… far too weary for someone so full of life.” His words were soft, his voice no longer teasing but understanding.

“I’m just… tired, Rook. Of everything.” You rubbed your face, trying to shake off the numbness, but it clung to you like a second skin.

Rook, for once, didn’t offer a poetic response or some elaborate metaphor. Instead, he reached out and gently took your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a quiet gesture of comfort. “You don’t need to explain,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “But you don’t have to carry it alone, either.”

Something in his words broke through the wall you’d built around yourself, and you looked at him, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to do, Rook. I’m so tired.”

Rook’s expression softened even further, and he smiled, a tender, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “Then rest. You are not a failure for needing time, mon lapin. Even the moon takes its time to rise.”

The tears finally spilled over, and Rook pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both comforting and protective. “You are not alone,” he whispered. “Not while I am here.”

Epel Felmier:

Epel had always admired your resilience. To him, you were someone who, despite being shy and quiet, had a certain strength that he respected. But lately, he noticed that something was different. You weren’t reacting the way you used to. You weren’t as anxious or jumpy, but… you weren’t really you either.

One afternoon, Epel found you sitting in the courtyard, staring blankly at the sky. He approached with a grin, his usual proud, determined expression in place. “You’re not lettin’ anyone push ya around anymore, huh? I’m proud of ya for that."

You glanced at him, managing a weak smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

Epel sat down next to you, his smile fading as he looked at you more closely. “But... somethin’ ain’t right, is it?”

You exhaled slowly, leaning back against the bench. “I’m just… tired, Epel. I don’t know how to keep going.”

Epel frowned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Tired? What do ya mean? You’re always so… strong.”

You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head. “I don’t feel strong. I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Epel’s frown deepened, and he scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable but trying his best to understand. “I get it, kinda. You’ve been workin’ hard, probably too hard.” He paused, glancing at you with concern. “You don’t have to be tough all the time, ya know. It’s okay to ask for help.”

You smiled sadly at him. “I don’t even know how to do that.”

Epel shifted closer, his usual rough-and-tumble demeanor softening. “Well, ya don’t have to do it alone. We’re friends, right? So, if ya need me, I’m here. Even if it’s just to sit with ya.”

For the first time in a while, you felt a flicker of warmth. Epel wasn’t the most eloquent, but his words carried a sincerity that hit you in all

Idia Shroud:

You hadn’t meant to snap at Idia. Honestly, you didn’t. But everything had been building for so long, like a pressure cooker about to blow, and when he made the comment—one that should have been harmless—it all came crashing down.

“Uh… you’re kinda different lately,” Idia had muttered, his eyes glued to his tablet as usual. His tone wasn’t accusatory, more like an observation, but the words felt like a match thrown onto the pile of kindling that had been building inside you.

Different? Was that what he thought? As if you had just woken up one day and decided to be different. As if all the stress, all the constant work and the endless expectations hadn’t eaten away at you until there was nothing left.

Your chest tightened, and before you could stop yourself, you snapped.

“Of course, I’m different! Do you think I want to be like this? That I’m enjoying any of this?” The words tumbled out, sharp and cutting, and you could see Idia flinch slightly, his usual wide-eyed, panicked expression flickering across his face.

He shrunk further into his hoodie, his hair dimming a little at your outburst. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“You just what?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the weight of frustration and exhaustion. “You think it’s fun being constantly overwhelmed? Do you think I like the fact that I don’t even recognize myself anymore?”

Idia blinked, his hair now a dull, nervous blue as he fumbled with the edges of his sleeves. “N-No, I—sorry. I didn’t realize—”

The sight of him looking so rattled, so unsure, finally made you pause. Your anger began to fade, replaced by a wave of guilt. He wasn’t trying to upset you—he was just being his usual, awkward self. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair as you sank onto a nearby chair.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, staring at the ground. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just… tired.”

Idia glanced up at you, his hair flickering back to a soft blue. “No, I get it. I mean… I don’t get it get it, but… I can see you’ve been stressed. I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

You looked up at him, the frustration and exhaustion still simmering under the surface but no longer directed at him. “I just… I feel like I’m falling apart, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Idia shifted uncomfortably, clearly out of his depth when it came to emotional stuff. But he nodded, his fingers tapping nervously on his tablet. “That… sounds like a total nightmare, honestly. If you wanna talk or, like, not talk… I can just sit here. No pressure.”

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for the gesture even though you knew talking wouldn’t fix everything. Still, the offer meant something, especially coming from someone like Idia, who was as socially awkward as they came. “Thanks, Idia.”

He nodded quickly, his hair flickering brighter. “Yeah, no prob.”

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho was a bright little ball of sunshine, a constant source of cheerfulness that sometimes felt like too much when you were in the state you were now. But he was also hard to ignore, especially when he zoomed over to greet you, his cheerful voice ringing out the second he spotted you.

"Hi! How are you doing today? Is there anything I can help you with?” Ortho’s voice was filled with such eager energy that it almost made you wince.

Normally, his enthusiasm would have been endearing, but today, it was just too much. You forced a tired smile. “I’m fine, Ortho. Just… tired.”

His sensors seemed to pick up on your low energy, and he tilted his head, his mechanical eyes glowing softly. “You don’t seem fine. Maybe you need some rest! Or maybe I could get you something to eat, or—”

“Ortho,” you interrupted, rubbing your temple as a wave of exhaustion hit you. “I just… I just want to be left alone for a little while, okay?”

There was a pause as Ortho processed your request. His cheerful smile faltered for a moment, and his eyes dimmed slightly, but then he nodded, his voice softening. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

You almost regretted snapping at him, but to his credit, Ortho didn’t push. Instead, he hovered nearby, his presence quiet but still there, like a little brother who didn’t want to leave your side even when you asked for space. He wasn’t overbearing—just a silent, watchful figure in the background, making sure you were okay.

After a few minutes, you glanced at him. He was still there, his eyes watching you with concern, but he hadn’t said a word since you asked to be alone.

A small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “You can stay, you know. Just… maybe tone it down a little.”

Ortho’s eyes brightened, and he floated a little closer, his voice quiet and soft now. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Despite your exhaustion, you found comfort in Ortho’s presence. He wasn’t pushy or demanding—just there, offering quiet support. And for now, that was enough.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus had a way of appearing at the most unexpected times. One moment you were alone, wallowing in your overwhelming responsibilities, and the next, he was there, his presence like a calm, steady force that momentarily took the weight off your shoulders.

"You have a heavy burden," he said softly, his glowing eyes watching you with concern.

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "I don't have a choice, Malleus. I have to do it all. There's no one else."

He was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful, before he spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "You always have a choice."

His words struck you, and you looked up at him, tired and skeptical. "What choice do I have, really? If I don’t do it, who will?"

Malleus stepped closer, his large hand reaching out to gently take yours. The warmth of his touch was comforting, grounding. "I will help you," he said, his voice steady, full of promise. "You do not have to carry this burden alone. I would be honored if you would share it with me."

The sincerity in his words broke something inside of you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that, how much you needed someone to acknowledge your struggle and offer their support. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to blink them away, but it was no use.

Malleus gently pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe for the first time in what felt like forever. "I am here," he whispered. "Always."

You buried your face in his chest, letting the tears fall as you clung to him. For the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel so alone.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia always seemed to know when something was wrong, even when you tried to hide it. He found you sitting alone, your shoulders slumped, your mind racing with thoughts of everything you still had to do. The old fae’s eyes softened as he approached, crouching down to your level.

“Ah, my little rabbit, it’s important not to lose yourself in all of this,” he said gently, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness. “You’ve been running yourself ragged.”

You sighed, feeling too tired to argue. “What choice do I have? It never stops.”

Lilia gave you a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling despite the concern behind them. “Even so, it’s vital to take care of yourself. If you get lost, who will be there to find you?”

You stared at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hadn’t realized how much you had lost yourself until now, how much you had forgotten who you were amidst the endless demands and expectations.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know how to find myself again.”

Lilia reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You won’t have to do it alone. I’ll be there, whenever you need me. You’ve got someone who will always come looking for you, no matter how far you wander.”

The tears spilled over then, and Lilia gently pulled you into a hug, his arms surprisingly strong for his small frame. “Cry if you need to, little rabbit. It’s alright to be tired.”

You sobbed quietly into his shoulder, grateful for the comfort, for the promise that you weren’t completely lost.

Silver:

Silver was different from the others. He didn’t always have the right words, but his presence was comforting in its own way. You found him waiting for you one evening, his eyes calm and steady as always, and yet… there was a softness there that told you he understood more than he let on.

"You should rest," Silver said simply, his tone gentle but firm. "You’ve been pushing yourself too hard."

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you couldn’t afford to rest, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, feeling a tear slip down your cheek.

Silver watched you for a moment, and then, in his quiet way, he stepped closer. "I can stand guard for you," he offered softly. "While you rest. No one will bother you."

Something about the offer made your heart ache, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Silver, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but resolute. “It’s okay to let someone else take over, even if it’s just for a little while.”

His words, so simple and sincere, broke the dam, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Silver, ever so calm, wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug that was both protective and comforting.

“I’ll be here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to lean on someone, feeling the exhaustion finally take over as you cried quietly into his chest.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek was the last person you’d expect to understand. When he first saw you, looking worn out and drained, his immediate reaction was his usual loud, indignant self.

"Human! How could you let yourself become so... unkempt?!" Sebek had barked, his voice echoing in the corridor. "You have responsibilities! Standards to uphold!"

You barely reacted, your energy too drained to even muster a response. You just stood there, staring at him with tired, glassy eyes. Normally, you might have snapped back at him, might have told him off for being so overbearing. But today… you didn’t even have that in you.

Sebek stopped, his expression shifting as he took in your hollow look. For the first time, he seemed to realize that something was deeply wrong. His usual bluster faded, and his voice softened, though it still held that familiar Sebek intensity. “Are… are you alright?”

It was such a simple question, and yet it broke something inside of you. You shook your head, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “No. I’m not.”

Sebek’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked completely at a loss. But then, to your surprise, he stepped closer, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “You… you should not bear this burden alone.”

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I don’t have a choice.”

Sebek hesitated, then awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so loud. “You do. And you must let someone help you.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Sebek, the loud and proud half-fae, was comforting you. And despite how awkward he was about it, you found it strangely reassuring.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Sebek’s grip tightened slightly, and he nodded, his eyes full of determination. “I will not let you falter.”

You smiled weakly through your tears, and before you knew it, Sebek had pulled you into a clumsy, but genuine hug. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. You held onto him, letting the tears flow, feeling a little less alone in the world.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to carry everything by yourself.

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo’s sharp eyes caught you as you wandered through the dimly lit halls, your steps slow and heavy. His brow furrowed slightly, the ever-present judgmental edge in his voice as he approached.

“You’re not really alive anymore, are you?”

It was such a blunt statement, cutting straight through the haze of your exhaustion. For a moment, you stood there, frozen, unsure if you had even heard him correctly. Then, something inside you cracked. All at once, the weight of everything you had been carrying overwhelmed you, and you felt your knees buckle.

“I’m trying,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m trying so hard, but… it’s never enough. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

You expected him to scoff, to make some cold remark about duty and responsibility. But instead, Rollo’s usually sharp expression softened. He hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure of how to proceed, but then—so awkwardly it almost startled you—he reached out and gently took your hand in his.

“I… didn’t mean to cause more distress,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You have been shouldering too much.”

The simple contact, the warmth of his hand in yours, sent a flood of emotion through you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand, your lip trembling. “I don’t know what to do anymore…”

Rollo’s grip tightened, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let you fall any further. “Then perhaps it’s time to stop trying to carry it all alone.”

Neige LeBlanche:

You hadn’t expected to run into Neige when you did—his usual bright demeanor an overwhelming contrast to the exhaustion you felt pressing down on your every move. When he saw you, his eyes widened with immediate concern.

“Oh no… have you been running yourself ragged?” Neige asked, his voice soft and full of sympathy.

You tried to smile, tried to brush it off like you always did. “It’s fine, really. I’m just… tired.”

But the moment you said it, you felt the tears rising again. The weight of everything you’d been trying to handle was too much, and now, in front of someone as kind and gentle as Neige, it was impossible to keep the façade up any longer.

Neige, sensing the shift in your mood, stepped closer, his expression full of worry. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.” He gently took your arm, guiding you to sit on a nearby bench. “Come on, let’s rest for a bit.”

As soon as you sat down, the dam broke, and you buried your face in your hands, sobbing quietly. Neige didn’t say anything for a moment, but his presence was soothing, like a warm blanket on a cold day. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug.

“You’ve done so much already,” he whispered, his voice gentle. “You deserve to rest.”

The tears came faster, but this time, they felt like a release. Neige held you, stroking your hair softly as you cried into his shoulder. He didn’t try to fix everything or offer any grand solutions. He just stayed there, offering quiet comfort, and in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

Che’nya

Che’nya’s grin was as wide as ever when he appeared beside you, hanging upside down from a tree branch like it was the most natural thing in the world. But there was something in his eyes as he looked at you, something that said he knew something was different.

“Well, well, well,” he teased, his voice lilting with amusement. “Looks like you’ve finally become like the rest of them—cynical and all that.”

His words were meant to be lighthearted, a joke, but they hit too close to home. You felt your breath hitch, the ache in your chest tightening. The teasing that once might have been playful now only highlighted the exhaustion, the bitterness you had tried to hide for so long.

“I… I didn’t want to become like this,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to be so… tired.”

Che’nya blinked, his grin fading slightly as he flipped down from the branch to stand beside you. “Hey now… I didn’t mean to make you upset, little rabbit.”

But it was too late. The tears were already spilling down your cheeks, your body shaking with the weight of everything you had been holding in. You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed by how easily you had broken down.

Without a word, Che’nya crouched beside you, his playful demeanor slipping away as he gently touched your arm. “It’s alright, you know? You don’t have to hide it.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m just… I’m so tired of trying to keep up with everything.”

Che’nya gave a soft chuckle, but there was no teasing in it now. “That’s because you’re not supposed to do it all by yourself.”

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both comforting and protective. “You’re not alone, little rabbit. Not with me around.”

Grim:

Grim had been his usual self at first, bounding around and bragging about his latest escapades. But then he noticed how quiet you had been lately, how you didn’t respond to his antics with your usual snark. He had brushed it off at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him.

Finally, Grim came up to you, his tail flicking nervously as he tried to gauge your mood. “Hey… henchhuman. You’ve been actin’ real weird lately.”

You glanced at him, too tired to even muster a proper response. “I’m just tired, Grim.”

“Tired?” Grim huffed, crossing his little arms. “You’re always tired! But this is different, ain’t it?”

You didn’t say anything, and that’s when Grim’s expression shifted. He stepped closer, his eyes wide and full of concern. “Henchhuman… did I do somethin’? Did I make things worse?”

The sound of his worried voice, of Grim actually not being selfish for once, broke you. You had been holding it in for so long, trying to be strong, but now, with Grim looking at you with those big, worried eyes, you couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears came, fast and unstoppable, and you buried your face in your hands.

Grim panicked for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then he scrambled onto your lap, pressing his little head against your chest. “Hey, hey! Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to make ya upset!”

You sobbed harder, your hands shaking as you tried to get a hold of yourself. “I’m sorry, Grim. I’ve just… I’ve been so overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to bother you…”

“Bother me?” Grim scoffed, but there was no bite to his words. “You’re my henchhuman! If somethin’s wrong, you tell me, got it?”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face as you hugged Grim tightly. He grumbled a little, but then he nuzzled against you, his small form warm and comforting in your arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” he muttered. “But you’re gonna be okay. ‘Cause you’ve got me.”

Despite everything, you smiled through your tears. Grim wasn’t perfect, but in his own way, he was trying to help. And for now, that was enough.

Crowley:

"Ah, my ever-reliable little rabbit!" Crowley called from across the hallway, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him. He approached with his usual flourish, clearly in one of his grandiose moods. "I couldn't help but notice that your posture is rather… less upright than usual. No doubt due to your recent lack of respect and enthusiasm! You simply must—"

You barely looked up. Everything was gray. Crowley’s usual barrage of demands and flowery speeches washed over you like distant noise, and for the first time, you didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t care.”

The words came out before you could stop them, low and exhausted. You didn’t even bother to meet his eyes.

Crowley paused, blinking in confusion. “Pardon? Did you just—?” His voice faltered as he saw the deep bags under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped, and how utterly defeated you looked. The bravado drained from his expression as he realized just how far he had pushed you.

“Oh… oh dear,” he stammered, clearly flustered. “I… I hadn’t realized you were feeling this way.” His hands flapped awkwardly, and he shifted on his feet, the image of a man utterly lost in uncharted waters. “Perhaps I’ve… overworked you. Just a smidge! But worry not! Crowley is here to—erm—assist! Yes, assist!”

You stared blankly at him. “I don’t need assistance. I need you to stop.”

Crowley’s face fell, and after a moment of visible panic, he hesitantly reached out, patting your shoulder in what he clearly thought was a comforting gesture. “There, there… You’re very… valuable to us all. Truly. Perhaps… a bit of a break? I will—uh—take care of things while you rest. Just… please don’t break down.”

Though his attempt at comfort was clumsy and awkward, the thought behind it made your eyes well up with tears. Despite everything, he was trying.

“Okay,” you whispered, and Crowley gave an exaggerated nod, as if this small victory had restored his usual bravado.

“Very well! I’ll expect to see you back when you’re ready, my precious little rabbit. Take your time!”

Divus Crewel:

Professor Crewel’s sharp gaze pinned you the moment you entered his classroom. He noted the new tension in your shoulders, the lack of bounce in your step, and the weary drag in your eyes.

“Well, well, looks like you’ve finally grown some grit,” Crewel said, his lips curling into a smirk. “It’s about time you toughened up. I was beginning to think I had a little herbivore in my class, but I see now you’ve developed a thicker hide.”

Those words—meant to be encouragement, or perhaps a compliment—broke the last bit of strength you had left. The tears you had been holding back spilled over, and your breath hitched as you tried, and failed, to keep your emotions in check.

Crewel’s eyes widened in alarm, his smirk vanishing in an instant. “Whoa, whoa, now—what’s this?” His tone softened, and he quickly put down the lesson plan he’d been holding. He crossed the room, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t trying to push you that far.”

You shook your head, choking back sobs. “I just… I can’t anymore. I can’t keep up with everything.”

For a moment, Crewel stood there, clearly at a loss. But then his paternal instincts kicked in, and he sighed, pulling you into a firm but comforting hug. “You’ve been doing too much, haven’t you, pup? Trying to shoulder all of it on your own.”

You nodded, tears soaking into his coat, but he didn’t seem to mind. He gently stroked your back in soothing motions. “You’ve proven yourself time and again,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to break yourself to do it. Let me handle some of the load.”

His words, so uncharacteristically gentle, made you cry harder. And Crewel, despite his tough exterior, let you. “It’s okay, pup. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Mozus Trein:

Professor Trein glanced over his spectacles at you as you entered his classroom, late, looking disheveled and utterly drained. He gave a soft ‘tsk,’ his usual sternness evident. “I hope this recent behavior won’t affect your studies,” he remarked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

You didn’t even have the energy to reply, simply nodding and sitting down heavily at your desk. Trein continued to watch you for a moment, then his brow furrowed as he took in the full extent of your exhaustion—the dark circles under your eyes, the slumped posture, the way you barely moved.

He put down the parchment he’d been grading and approached you, his voice quieter, more concerned. “You’re not yourself.”

You felt tears prick your eyes, but you stubbornly kept them at bay. “I’m… trying.”

Trein sighed, and for the first time, his stern exterior softened. “You’ve always been diligent. But there comes a time when even the most diligent students need rest.”

Before you could respond, you felt a soft weight land in your lap. Lucius, Trein’s ever-grumpy cat, had jumped up onto your desk, curling up as if offering you silent comfort.

Trein gave a rare, faint smile. “Even Lucius seems to think you’ve had enough. Take some time for yourself, and… don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

It was the first time you felt truly seen in a while. And though Trein wasn’t the warmest, his quiet concern—and Lucius’s uncharacteristic kindness—were enough to make you finally exhale the breath you’d been holding.

Sam:

Sam’s wide grin greeted you as you wandered into his shop, his usual cheerful energy practically bouncing off the walls. “Well hey there, little rabbit! What brings you to my corner of the world today?”

You mustered a half-hearted smile, trying to match his energy, but it fell flat. “Just… looking.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, sharp as ever. “Just lookin’, huh? C’mon now, I know you better than that! Somethin’s got you down, I can see it from a mile away.”

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it, but before you could think of a reply, Sam leaned in closer, his tone still playful but a bit more serious. “You look like you’ve been runnin’ on empty, little rabbit. What’s goin’ on?”

For some reason, the concern in his voice broke through the walls you’d been trying to keep up. The tears welled up without warning, and you bit your lip, shaking your head as if you could will them away.

Sam’s grin faltered, and his usual jokes fell silent. He quickly stepped around the counter, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey, hey… none of that now. You’re too important to be runnin’ yourself into the ground like this.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “I just… I don’t know how to keep going, Sam.”

Without a word, Sam pulled you into a hug, his big arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’ve been strong for a long time, little rabbit. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with leanin’ on someone else every once in a while.”

Ashton Vargas:

“Hey! What’s up, champ?” Vargas greeted you with his usual booming enthusiasm as you dragged yourself into the gym. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest, and he was clearly expecting you to give some sort of equally enthusiastic reply.

Instead, you just shrugged, your energy completely sapped. “Nothing much.”

Vargas frowned, his usually boisterous demeanor faltering slightly as he noticed how worn out you looked. “Hey, you alright? You’re lookin’ a little worse for wear.”

You tried to laugh it off, but it came out weak. “Just tired.”

“Tired?” Vargas echoed, his concern growing. “You’re a fighter! You don’t get tired, right?” He tried to give you an encouraging slap on the back, but when you didn’t respond, his smile dropped completely. “Okay, something’s really wrong.”

You sighed, the exhaustion creeping into every part of you. “I can’t keep up anymore, I’m just… done.”

For a moment, Vargas looked completely out of his depth. He wasn’t exactly the go-to guy for emotional support. But he wasn’t going to let you suffer alone either. He awkwardly reached out, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Look, uh… I’m not the best with words, but… you don’t have to be strong all the time, okay? Everyone needs a break. Even you.”

His sincerity, even through the awkwardness, made your heart clench. And before you knew it, you were leaning into his surprisingly gentle hold as tears finally escaped.

“Alright, alright,” Vargas muttered, patting your back like a dad who didn’t really know what he was doing but was trying his best. “We’ll get you through this, alright? Just… breathe.”

Masterlist

[pastlivesxpastlie]

𓍯𓂃Lovesick

mdni 18+

Summary: Vessel becomes fixated with you after you provide him some comfort at a party. Are you as gone for him, too? Pairing: Vessel x fem!reader wc: 4.7k head's up: vessel x you, smut with plot, friends to lovers, afab!reader, no y/n, oral sex (m receiving), pining + yearning, talk of male masturbation, texting, absolutely idiots in love, angst, bit of a slow burn (?), use of "good boy" and "good girl," tit play, couch sex, cowgirl, light choking, HEA, threats of waxing poetic about progressive metal

Taglist aka Situation Enjoyers™️: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @cheomain @evisnotok

“On your knees….please. Yes, like that. Mmmmph. Thank you.”

Vessel can’t help but still be polite. He can’t believe his eyes. Nor the feeling of the night air on his hard cock. He’s floating above himself and watching himself get jerked off outside at a house party. It’s not enough that he feels the spit on your palm. That could be his hand and this is just an elaborate fantasy. One of many.

But it would be the first about you. You were untouchable. You’re just a friend…just a friend…just a friend…only a friend. 

“Can I use my mouth?”

Holy fuck. This is real life.

In his fantasies, no one asks. Vessel doesn’t dream about giving consent. He dreams of being craved. Taken. Always willing. His breath catches. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” you whisper, “we don’t have to anyth-“

“Do anything to me. Please.”

His head falls back with a soft thud against the house. Getting head was always fun but this felt therapeutic. You had, of course, asked Ves why he seemed down. You always asked him those kinds of things. “Someone who cares asks those things,” he’d told himself, “but someone who loves you does something about it.” Now you’re on your knees in the dirt sucking him off. How did this even happen?

𓍯𓂃earlier...

Vessel slumped in the couch and mindlessly dragged his fingers on his thigh. He had made his rounds and said “hi” to the people he wanted to talk to and smiled awkwardly at the people he sought to avoid or didn’t know. He deserved a little sit down after that. The past few months had put him in a rut. There was always a post-tour slump but this one hit different. Vessel felt down. Down because he had writer’s block. Down because it had been gloomy this week and the week before and before that etc etc. Down because his bed was cold. Thinking back on the hook-ups during tour already got boring. The old encounters going stale. Does he hook up again with someone randomly against his better judgement or does he deal with it?

On more than one occasion, Vessel had been accused of being naive when it came to love, to which he responded, “I’m just being cautious.” Where some might be naive about love and affection and throw themselves at the first person who did the bare minimum, Vessel was naive in that he just figured people were being nice or he just got lucky. Otherwise, people didn’t really want to mess with being in a relationship with a musician. They’re broody. They’re too busy. They’re married to their work. They’re full of themselves. Vessel internalized those things. Sure he was broody to begin with, but that was his brand. But everything else, sure, he could be married to his work and keep himself busy. “Just earth sign things!” Easy as that. And maybe one day someone else’s indifference towards commitment would rub off on him. His rumination is interrupted when the couch sinks a bit beside him and he feels a soft punch on his arm. 

“What does it mean when I don’t get ‘hi’ or your awkward smile, hm?”

His heart warms up a bit. It’s you. You teeter somewhere between “friend” and “good friend.” It’s always nice to see you but you leave it at that. You see each other when you see each other. He shrugs and looks over at you. “Didn’t see you. Bet you were hiding or something.” 

“Tsk. Fine. Maybe I was. We know too much about each other’s awkward little quirks,” you sigh. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you, though. How you been?”

Vessel laughs to himself, thinking of the miserable spiral you interrupted. “Imagine how much more awkward this could get if I told you the truth.” But you don’t laugh at his little self-deprecation. That makes him nervous. His insides churn. You’re just watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why do you do that? So many people ask “how are you” because it’s polite…why do you care so much? “Look.” Vessel finally speaks again and flattens his hair. “I’m not great.” 

You shift and exhale softly. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He can see it in your eyes. You’re not trying to have some misery-loves-company-circlejerk. You have that same “mask” on as him. “Hate to hear that.” For a second Vessel feels something stir within him. Your tone is unenthusiastic but he knows it has nothing to do with him. He’s just glad to bond with someone, even if it’s over something lame like depression or whatever is eating at you both. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh just…general bullshit.” You shrug but Vessel knows whatever it is, you can’t just shrug it off. “Like if I’m so stuck, maybe this is where I’m meant to be. Even if it hurts.”

He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and is lost in thought. He has certainly felt that way before, but hearing you say it about yourself is heretical. He hates that you think that way. “No.”

“Oh. Well…alright. Thanks Ves, you healed me.” You chuckle dryly. He rolls his eyes and pats your leg. “So what’s got you down? For real.”

Vessel’s smile fades. “I feel…stuck as well. Just…going through the motions.” He scratches the back of his neck. “All the excitement of the last couple of months just…ripped from me. Gets hard to keep up with my emotions when I’m…frankly…bored. Bored of feeling this way. My own company.”

“I get that. Like you have to have things changing or moving all the time.”

“Exactly. Like some kind of jump that isn’t a substance or…whatever.”

“Hah…yeah… sometimes I just feel like…” you begin but pause.

“Like what?” Why are you blushing like that, he wonders idly. And why is it suddenly the cutest thing he’s ever seen?

“Uhm. I feel like…I need to get laid. That would fix me, right? Huge load of emotions and hormones released with someone you like…what could be better?”

“Oh is it that simple?” Vessel laughs. A genuine, warm laugh. You’re so silly, he just loves talking to you. And he loves how you laugh with him. He was scared for a second that you might take it personally, but he’s glad to see that you too have a sick sense of humor when you’re feeling unwell. 

“Maybe it is. Guess…we won’t know until…” you trail off.

“Until we try…” Vessel’s throat goes dry. He tries to swallow hard before nonchalantly scoping out how many people were on the patio. 

𓍯𓂃

Vessel always had to make things happen, and he was fucking exhausted from it. Now you were happening to him. You clued in on what he wanted when he suggested you both get some fresh air. Hell, you were the one who found the perfect spot for this tryst. 

“Y-you like doing that?” he whimpers. He can’t make out much of your features but he feels you nod and smile and…fuck, take him deeper in your mouth. He’s holding his breath. He knows he shouldn’t but if he doesn’t exert some kind of control over himself he’ll lose it. But when you grab his waist and start literally fucking your face with his cock he has to let go. He grips your hair, willing himself to resist overpowering you and thrusting harder against your movements. “Ffffff-fffuck.” He whimpers softly and bites at his lip… wishing you had kissed him before you got started so he could imagine it again while you savored every inch of him. His entire body shivers when you moan against his cock, making him realize you like the sound of his whimpers. His pathetic little pleas and moans.

“‘That feel good, Ves?” You whisper, stroking his cock as you catch your breath? “Hmm?”

He nods and whines, trying to not be loud. Thank god it was dark, otherwise you would have seen the tears threatening to spill. The way he bit his hand to keep from moaning out loud. What if you two got caught? What if another friend heard what you pulled from him? “Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“That’s a good boy.” Vessel feels his stomach drop as you start sucking him off again but with more enthusiasm. Like you need him to cum. And he does. But you don’t move…you keep your mouth on him. And he  might be the one cumming down your throat but he’s not claiming you. No. 

You. 

Own. 

Him. 

Somehow, and much to his delight, Vessel does not lose sleep over the ordeal or his new-found, all-consuming feelings for you. In fact, he’s never slept better. Sleeping once meant loud, restless dreams; now it means a nestling in and wondering about you before dozing off…imagining he’s holding you. He keeps telling himself it’s infatuation. It’ll go away. He’s just starstruck from the way you took care of him. But then…the ruminating started…

Each morning, Vessel wondered about you. Maybe today you’ll share something on Instagram that he can make a little comment on. Send a react. Yes, sure, you’re friends, but you’re not “close.” When he looked into your soft, sweet eyes the other night he wondered how a darling little thing like you learned to give head like that. Suddenly your life story became his Roman Empire. Were you a natural? Did someone give you gentle pointers the first few times? Or did you have to do it a lot to get good? Did you have to go jumping from man to man to find the love you so desperately craved? This made Vessel’s blood run cold. The thought of sweet, wonderful you merely being an option to other men. A small voice told Vessel that perhaps he himself was just an option. Maybe you did stuff like this a lot. One among many. Vessel chided this voice. Locked it in a dark little room with no ventilation. You were good. You wouldn’t use anyone. In fact, you probably did learn this from practice because who wouldn’t love you?

Vessel knows he’s being stupid. You two like each other but he won’t reach out. Then again, you don’t reach out either. That’s ok. He had no coherent plan of moving things forward. He was also terrified the spark you two shared would be gone if you tried hanging out again. What if you couldn’t handle his schedule? Or didn’t find it endearing when his moods never let up? What if that stupid voice was right? Most of the time, he resigned himself back to “I’ll see her when I see her,” and a cheeky wank to take the edge off. But that always left him feeling guilty. Empty. 

This particular morning he had been deep in thought about what your favorite position might be and how many times he could make you cum just from fucking you at a torturous pace that way. Today’s position of choice was doggy, but bent over his desk, on top of his notes from recording and writing sessions. That was what you deserved. You drove him to absolutely hopeless distraction…you should be bent over while he stands behind you, fingers melting into your flesh, holding you in place. He swears this will be the last time he jerks off thinking about you…but because of that he can’t help but edge himself. Thinking about you is easy. Not because you yourself are easy…but because Vessel realizes how naturally desirable you are. Seeing the way you took control and took care of him opened his mind to this entirely new world of fantasies. The heat blooming from his groin to his tummy made him stop for the third time. Yes, in this fantasy you were bent over for him…but there was more to it. You were doing him a favor. Good boys got to take breaks. Good boys stuck in a rut need to empty their brains and fill up their girlfriends. FUCK he wanted you to be his girlfriend so bad. And that thought scared him…as does the sound of his phone buzzing a few times. His train of thought vanishes along with his hard-on. Cursing whoever who messaging him this early, he grabs his phone but then makes the most embarrassing noise known to man. 

You: hey isn’t this a band you like?

the second message is the link to an instagram post

You: they’re doing a last minute show next weekend 

And sure enough, one of his favorite niche prog metal bands was playing in place of someone else at a local venue on Saturday. And tickets were dead cheap. Another message. 

You: if I knew anything about metal I’d go with you. Not sure how much fun I’d be 

Sirens! Flashing lights! All the bells and whistles going off in Vessel’s brain are firing. His inner little voices of reason (and everything in between) begin a debate.

“She’s flirting!” “Obviously, she’s flirting she sucked your dick.” “Can’t be that deep mate, she’s just now talking to you after a month.” “Sure it is, it is has to be flirting! She’s practically begging for you to invite her!”

Vessel: lol I could send you a playlist :)

“Mate, come on, what are you doing?” “Invite her over to hear the playlist. That’ll will be cute” “and then fuck her. Fuck her like the sl—“

Vessel rolls over and screams in his pillow. He will not have a meltdown over this.

Vessel: or we could throw you in feet first? Come with me? 

… … … 

Those infernal fucking “typing” bubbles are killing him. 3 minutes of that. Then no response. Vessel isn’t sure what he did wrong or if he did do anything wrong. He tries to go about his day but there’s still that nagging suspicion that he did too much. But when he least expects it…

You: sorry this is so last minute. are you busy tonight? 

Vessel: no, I’m not. Why?

He bites his lip as he waits to see what you’re planning. He wonders if you want to talk about what happened…or maybe do it again…or maybe act like nothing happened. 

You: I just don’t want to be alone tonight.  Vessel: I don’t want to be either.

It’s set then. He’ll go to your place…maybe have some drinks…maybe get a chance to thank you for the fun. He wanted to taste you. To make you cum like he did for you. Too many nights he spent wondering what you’re into. He had cast you in his mind as a soft domme, probably just because that’s what tickled his fancy at the time. But you had this caring…almost nurturing sense about you that night. You touched him like he was precious…like he would break if you didn’t take your time. He wanted to show you he was tougher than that. He could take it. The mere thought of even getting a chance to kiss you and make you feel even a fraction of the pleasure you gave him made his cock twitch. The time between now and when he was reunited with you would be torture.

But when he gets to your place, he doesn’t feel confident enough to act smooth or even touch you. If anything, he wanted to touch your hair. Literally just brush back the strands you missed when you tucked it behind your ear. Finally he musters the courage to stand beside you as you’re getting him some water. You’ve sucked his dick, the least he can do is move your hair. He moves in for the kill…but perhaps a bit too fast, because just as his hand reaches your personal space, you turn your head to look up at him and... receive a cheek full of Vessel knuckles. 

He moves quickly to cup your face, desperate to show you he didn’t mean to whack you, but he’s greeted with a surprised chuckle and your smile. Not that one you put on for friends or staged photos…your real smile. He could die happy right now. Just absolutely melt. If he ever wanted to write true, honest to god love ballads he would think back to this moment. This gooey, gushy feeling. He feels confident, the same confidence the mask gives him, and presses a soft kiss where he accidentally got you.

“Ves…” 

You still smile but he sees something behind your eyes. Vessel keeps his hands on your face…his heart breaking and stomach dropping. He had noticed you weren’t posting regularly on your socials and even then you seemed a bit less animated. He’s learned your tells. There’s smudges from yesterday’s eyeliner that somehow looks effortless but still betrays the fact that you didn’t wash your face last night. In his mind, Vessel likened you to a shrinking violet. The kindest, most gorgeous girl who ever graced him with her presence trying to hide herself away. This wouldn’t do. Even though he didn’t feel like he had the emotional energy for himself…he desperately wanted to be here for you. After the past four weeks of falling down a rabbit hole imagining you as a soft, caring, dominant partner, he suddenly felt needed. He wanted to provide so bad it hurt. 

“What’s the matter, love?”

“I…” your voice cracks and you shake your head. He backs off a bit, letting you have some space. “It’s been a rough few weeks. I’ve…missed you and felt like…a fucking idiot the whole time.”

Vessel nods and takes a drink of his water. “Yeah. Getting laid didn’t fix us, did it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “It’s made me worse. How about you?”

“You first.”

You roll your eyes and stretch your neck. Vessel nearly loses his mind at how you bite your lip as you look him up and down. This is what he wants. To be under your gaze. Please. Keep him there. His breath catches. You could tell him to leave right now and he would. But instead, you keep talking. 

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t think there was anything between us other than like…being friends. So I don’t know what came over me when I just…literally threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s…stupid reckless behavior.” You wring your hands a little and look down. “How can I expect to be taken seriously if I just—“

Vessel puts his hand up. “Stop that.”

“But I’m serious, Vess-“

“I said…’stop that.’ I take you seriously. I’ve always taken you seriously.” Vessel considers you for a moment. While he’d love to take you to bed, he’s desperate to lift you up. To reassure you. “Love, if you think you shouldn’t be taken seriously, imagine how I feel. You could have written me off as a jerk for letting you—“ but Vessel stops himself before he waxes poetic about your blowjob skills and ruins the moment. “I didn’t even follow you after we were done. Call you. Message you directly. After everything…I shouldn’t even have the chance to be with you.”

You shake your head and look down. “I know you’re not after one thing…I know it. But…why can’t I believe it? It’s nothing personal, I swear I just-“

Something deep within propels Vessel to pull you in for a gentle kiss…and to his utter delight you melt right into his touch. You fit so ridiculously perfect in his arms and mesh so well against his lips. He lets out a soft moan right as you break the kiss. Vessel had already been taken with you, but now he was enchanted. “Give me a month. I’ll show you how serious I am about you. It’s not just the sex…I promise.”

Your breath is ragged…you’re overcome with emotion and desire. You nod up at him. “All the time you need…”

“Good girl…” Vessel cocks his head, amused that he just called you that. He meant it in an encouraging way but…if the shoe fits. “Would you like that? To be my good girl?”

Your eyes get a bit dark, but not out of anything malicious. Your chin raises. “Ves…I would be anything you asked me to be. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done to me…” You pause but Vessel can’t even begin to formulate a thought. Were you as borderline obsessive as him? “You shouldn’t be on my mind the way you are. I mean…what are you doing to me? You’ve shown me so much kindness and your own vulnerability…that shouldn’t turn me on. It’s endearing and admirable, sure, but why do I…I just want to take care of you. I’m sorry I just…I feel guilty for…for falling for you because see me and you let me suck you off…I mean…how old are we?”

He’s taken aback a little. Something in your mind is tricking you. “Sweetheart,” he cups your cheek, “if it makes you feel any better, I feel the same. When I saw how down you looked a bit ago…” he shakes his head and sighs, “took everything in me to not start confessing everything just to see you smile. I want you. I want…everything that makes you ‘you.’ And I get the feeling you want the same…right?”

For a long second, you don’t say anything. You stare up at him, glassy eyed. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation. He’s passed that. He’s no longer timid about you. His lips meet yours in an agonizingly slow, tender kiss. Vessel’s hips press you against your kitchen counter, letting you feel his excitement. It wasn’t pure arousal. It was the excitement of being open and honest with each other. The emotional push and pull of comforting you but also receiving your reassurance did things to him. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was love, wasn’t it? Your hands pull at his hips, bringing one of his legs between yours. You moan softly, and he pulls from the kiss.

“Do you think about me at all?” He whispers breathlessly? You moan as his lips ghost your ear. The feeling of your thighs tightening around him makes his cock twitch. He wishes your thighs were around his hips…or even his face. You bite your lip and whine a little as your hips buck involuntarily.

“I think about fucking you on my couch everyday.”

Obviously the next stop is the couch. Vessel sits down and pulls you to straddle him. His kisses become more ravenous. Finally…the girl of his dreams is on him. He’d do anything for you right now, but he wants you a little vulnerable. You, of course, had been pining, too. What’s the harm in being pathetic together? He pulls off your shirt and nearly looses his mind when your soft flesh comes into view. Your precious tummy. Your squishy tits. Fuck. It was all his. “Get your pants off.”

You hop off his lap and do as your told. Vessel just watches and unzips his pants, adjusting them and his boxers to let his cock out. He bites his lip and strokes himself teasingly as he watches you pull off your leggings and panties. Drooling at the sight of your nude legs…the hint of your pussy. He beckons you forward seductively, a little taste of what’s to come once you’re in reach. 

“How wet are you, love?” He asks, letting his fingers dip between your legs. You moan softly as his fingers trail up and down your slit, enjoying the wetness he’s caused. “I don’t even need to help you, do I? Excitable girl. Aren’t you?” All this gets from you is a nod. You’re so gone. He leans back on the couch and pulls you toward him. He’s still completely dressed in his henley and jeans, but you don’t seem to mind. He positions you on his cock and lets you set the pace. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked, but he knows to be kind and let you adjust to his size. His eyes roll back and his head thumps against the couch. Something about how your body takes his cock makes his insides melt. You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you lower yourself completely on him. “Don’t move…don’t move, love.” He adjusts slightly to bring your chest to his mouth. His soft kisses and kitten licks pepper your breasts, causing your pussy to clench. It feels amazing. He’s being so gentle, but on the inside he wants to ravage you. Even after getting off everyday for a month thinking about you, you still excite Vessel into a frenzy. 

“Oh…oh Ves…” you gasp as he takes your nipple between his lips. You both moan as his cock twitches against your sensitive walls, but he keeps you still, cockwarming as he teases and makes out with your nipples. He shamelessly buries his face in your chest and moans, squeezing your ass to pull you close. Vessel can hardly believe it. You’re finally in his arms, his cock is stuffed inside you, and you want his love just as badly as he wants yours. He pulls his face away from your body to look up at you and whisper.

“You’re my girl now. You know that?” He puts his finger that had touched your pussy in his mouth and sucks, making sure you how see gone he is for you. “Gonna make you so happy…”

Vessel can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth, but pussy from someone who accepts you unconditionally will do that to you. He thought he was only built for fleeting infatuations and hooks up. But here he was…making promises he’d sooner die than break. After playfully torturing you with how his cock twitched inside you every time you kissed him or made a little sound, he starts to move your hips.  You look positively angelic on his lap completely naked taking his cock. His eyes roll back and he realizes that whatever half baked fantasy he had about fucking you didn’t prepare him for how good you felt. How warm and safe he’d feel under the weight of your body. It’s almost too much. Not that he’d cum yet. No. He just wants to say stupid things like “I love you;” and “we should move in together;” and “please call me a good boy.” That little submissive voice was still in him. He knew you were responding well to him taking control but he wanted that gentle control from you again. 

“Am…am I good for you?” He rasps out as you steadily grind against him.

“Mhm…so good…you…you like being good?”

Vessel’s eyes roll back and he nods pathetically. “Just for you.” 

You bury your face in the nape of his neck and suck little pink love marks up and down it. He moans with each one, clenching your body impossibly close. “I can’t move when you hold me like that…” you say backing up a little. You take his wrists gently and pin them against the back of the couch. He licks his lips and smiles dreamily. “Oh you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” Your fingers intertwine and he lets out a contented sigh.

“So pathetic…”

“You like being good but you like getting in trouble, too, huh?”

Vessel’s brain is mush. He knows you’re lightly degrading him and he fucking loves it but he has no concept of what’s happening other than “yippee perfect girl is being perfect.” He just nods and lets you fuck him for all he’s worth, cumming when you wrap your dainty hand around his neck. 

Later at what can only be described as a debrief at the pub, you share a large basket of fries. Vessel takes a deep breath as he attempts to act normal after having his mind blown and emotions pulled in all kinds of different directions. “This is good, yeah?”

“The fries?”

“For Christ’s sake…”

“Oh sorry, you mean…us…yeah. This is good. Really good. Are you scared?”

Vessel looks at the table and then at you. Honesty is his only option. “Terrified.”

“Same.”

He ponders for a moment and puts his hand palm up on the table. “Do it scared?”

You plop your hand down on his, “and together.”

“Now about this gig next week. I need to start your lectures on progressive metal-“

“Oh god.”

[alcoholfreenayeon]

WHAT IF you are at a bar or something and Sana and Miyeon come to entice you back to their place 😈😈 (sana and miyeon x male reader) 🤭🤭

A/N: It’s finally done bestie, hope you enjoy🤭!

I want that

CW: male!reader x Sana and Miyeon, NSFW, Smut, somewhat hardcore, hint of fluff.

You were sitting alone at the booth, your glass empty and watching the tv, some soccer game going on but you weren’t really paying attention. Feeling someone gaze at you every now and then, it was the average day at the bar, not too crowded but you wouldn’t say it’s empty either. Your friends had left a few minutes earlier because they all had some reason or the other. Work, partners, whatever. It didn’t matter though, you liked your own company at times, it gave you some time to reflect on things.

As you contemplated between going home or having another drink, you were interrupted when someone asked if they could sit with you. Looking up at the person, you saw an absolute goddess, she was easily one of the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. You were too much in awe to reply but the girl just politely smiled and took your lack of objection as a yes and sat down.

“You don’t mind if my friend joins right?”, she asked sweetly.

“Uh, no”, you replied still awestruck when you turned to look at the friend and nearly fell out of your chair. Like the first girl was absolutely stunning but her friend, god you found her so irresistibly beautiful. Your mouth open while she sat down.

“I’m Sana and this is Miyeon”, the first girl introduced.

“h-hi, ahem, Hey, I’m Y/N”, you replied, losing your voice for a second.

The girls giggled and smiled prettily at you. They seemed really calm yet somewhat excited while you were losing composure like anything, you couldn’t even decide which one of them to look at. Somehow you managed to not seem like a complete idiot and weirdo and made some conversation.

Everything was going smoothly over the next few minutes, you were even managing to gain some confidence when felt something brush your foot and then saw Miyeon glance at you for a second, her cheeks slightly flushed before she looked away, smiling. You suddenly realized your own heart was beating quickly for some reason and cleared your throat trying to calm yourself down.

“Do you wanna come with us?”, Miyeon asked out of the blue, suppressing a smile. Sana giggled and gave her a nudge.

You felt dumbstruck, was this a joke? What did they mean by that because you totally thought you were interpreting that in a few different ways, all of which seemed greatly appealing but you couldn’t help but also think that maybe you didn’t understand what Miyeon asked. “Uhm…what?”, you choke, not knowing how to respond.

“I don’t live very far from here, the bar will close soon, maybe we can continue our…fun over there”, she said innocently batting her eyes at you while smiling so prettily.

Now, you’ve definitely heard of people getting killed like this but surely this was not the case, like seriously there’s no way these beautiful girls were some sort of deranged psychopaths after your kidneys or something. Your brain was practically shouting at you to proceed with caution but your heart whispered oh so convincingly that this was heading exactly where you never in your wildest dreams would have imagined. Unfortunately for your brain, your heart had you sold and any thoughts to take caution fell on deaf ears.

“Oh that sounds great, but I can’t drive since I’ve had a few drinks”, you manage, you could feel adrenaline pumping through your body as you thought of all the possibilities.

“That’s ok, we can just take a Uber, that’s okay with you right?”, Sana offered.

Sitting between the two girls in car, you wonder what you’d done to be so lucky. However, your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Sana put her hand on your knee before slowly starting to pull it upwards, onto your thighs, teasingly.

You freeze, not knowing how to react, understandably so and that’s when Sana leans in and whispers, “Does this excite you?”

You nearly whimpered and just as you are about to turn towards her, Miyeon’s voice stops you, “Unnie! You are so greedy, you can’t have all his attention.”

Before the words even sink in, you feel Miyeon grab your cheeks with both hands and she begins to make out with you sloppily.

This had to be heaven right? Like, surely life can’t get better than this, you think to yourself.

You begin to kiss her back and she seemed surprised for a moment before continuing but with more aggression. At the same time, Sana was practically in your pants and made some cheeky comment probably but you didn’t hear it, you were too engrossed with making out with Miyeon.

This continued for a few minutes before Miyeon pulled back, her cheeks slightly flushed and she was smiling mischievously while Sana was biting her lips and tying up her hair. You were trying to breath normally even though you felt out of breath but you didn’t wanna let the girls know that. Fortunately, before anything else could happen you had arrived at the destination and the three of you got out. You offered to pay but the girls insisted that they would.

“You can give us something else in return”, Sana said leaning towards you, clearing the last doubts of where this night was headed.

You were breathing hard now, as Sana noisily sucked on your tip while looking up at you. After a few moments, she stopped sucking, winked at you and then practically swallowed you all the way to your base. That took you by so much surprise you couldn’t do anything except move your hands on her head, inhaling sharply.

This continued for far less time than you would have liked but you had to make her stop or else she would end up finishing you there. You somehow manage to pull her off and Sana pouts a little but doesn’t complain. You pant and try to reset but before you can completely recover you feel another pair of lips taking in your cock. At this point your heart feels like it could explode. Miyeon struggles to take you as deep as Sana but makes up for it by somehow having more enthusiasm than her wanting to straight up suck the life out of you.

You end up making her stop after a few minutes too and take another few seconds to calm yourself down. It was getting harder and harder to that though, between feeling so desperate for your release and the fact that Miyeon had been kissing you for the past minute.

You become distracted when you see Sana lay on the bed on her stomach and look back at you seductively and you can’t help yourself and you get on top of her, she squeals excitedly when she feels you climb on her, arching her back. You were feeling feral now after being close to cumming twice and weren’t going to go easy at all.

Entering her took both of your breaths away, you sighed shakily, trying to compose yourself while Sana’s eyes stooped dreamily while she bit her lips. She didn’t let you off easily though and almost immediately started to push back against you forcing you to grab her shoulders and hold her down. She giggled at that but that turned into a gasp real quick when you began pounding her hard. She gripped the bedsheets tightly, panting as you filling her repeatedly. It only took you a few minutes of fucking her before you felt her clench and cum, letting out quiet moans as she came.

You smirked, she has been acting really cocky for a while now so it felt good to see her be so helpless now. Giving her only a few moments of rest before you begin pounding her again. You place your hand on her cheek, raising her head a little and to your satisfaction, Sana follows your lead and gently bites your fingers, whimpering as that only drives you to become rougher.

It was becoming harder and harder for you to focus on anything else but you felt Miyeon climb on the bed too, looking at you and Sana somewhat enviously. But you were not able to focus on that for too long. Especially when Sana was whining now as she was getting close to cumming once again which of course made her pussy tighter as she squeezed and clenched. Just when you thought you were about to reach the point of no return, Sana cums and you somehow manage to hold on. Both of you panting hard, a blissful smile on Sana’s face as she was slowly getting down from her high.

You turned to face Miyeon and found her pouting, “Did you really like her so much that you couldn’t even look at me?”

“Uhm….”, you tried to find your words but you had no defense.

“No”, she put a finger on your lips, “Don’t make excuses….if you really want to prove me wrong then do it through your actions”, she said while pulling you on top of her. “If you really mean it, then, Ruin. Me.”.

Those words turned on something inside of you, not that you needed encouragement to fuck her.

Pinning her hands either side of her head, you waste no time and enter her and it was honestly, quite possibly the best sensation you had ever felt. You begin to thrust immediately, ramming as deep as you can each thrust, stretching her slightly. You weren’t sure how long you would be able to last considering you were already quite on edge from Sana and the fact that Miyeon was staring at you so intently didn’t help at all.

At the same time, you felt her fists clench as each thrust was literally seeming to take her breath away. The two of you fucked for…..minutes?….an hour?….you didn’t even know, it felt like a decent amount of time but it wasn’t enough. Like you didn’t want this to ever end. You just wanted to keep fucking her for forever. At some point Miyeon broke through your grip and freed her hands, wrapping it around your shoulders, trying to pull you closer.

You were panting with each thrust now, trying not to cum, aware of how dangerously close you were to your release, ready to pull out any second.

That’s when Miyeon, grabbed your face, staring at you a moment too long and gave you a deep kiss, “Stay in me, don’t pull out, fill me up…please”, she whimpered practically while at the same time wrapping her legs around your waist tightly not giving you much of a choice really. Not that you had any problems with that. You began to pound her faster, both of you moving in perfect rhythm.

That’s when Miyeon cums, managing a strangled gasp as she shakes with pleasure, her convulsions send you over the edge as well and you practically explode inside her, wave after wave of your cum filling her up. As you both came together, it felt euphoric and eternal yet at the same time it also felt like it only lasted for a second. You both were panting heavily, looking at each other and you hesitated a little bit and leant in, kissing her passionately for a few seconds before you pull away. Miyeon blushes a little when you pull away, slowly letting go of you, almost like she wanted to hold on for a bit more.

Sana scoots over, “oh, you both seemed to enjoy it a lot more, Y/N was she really that much better than me?, she said smiling mischievously.

You freeze, glancing at Miyeon who looked like she would slap you if you gave the wrong answer. You fumbled over your words without saying any real answer which caused both girls to giggle which made you realize they were just teasing.

“Well, it’s quite late and us girls need our sleep”, Sana said suddenly, signaling that was time for you to leave. “Especially, after you tired us out so much”, Miyeon added with a giggle.

You were handed your clothes by Miyeon, a bit puzzled because you were pretty sure that’s not where you had left them but maybe you just were lost in your excitement and forgot. Regardless, you bid them goodbye and went on your way.

As you waited at the bus stop, you reflected on everything that just happened. For some reason, your thoughts were lingering back to Miyeon repeatedly. You lie to yourself about why that is, knowing full well the truth but you just felt too proud at the moment to admit it, even if it was to yourself. Luckily for you, the bus approached before you truly lost in your thoughts and feelings.

As you sat, you couldn’t help but feel something squish in your pocket. You search to find a small piece of paper scrunched up, curious, you unscramble it and find a series of numbers. No, a number, a phone number below which was written ‘M’ with a heart next to it. Looking out of the window, you smile to yourself, excited, your heart fluttering, perhaps you are going to have to revisit your feelings sooner than you thought…..

[ggidolsmuts]

Fire in the Belly (and the Womb)

A/N: This follows up from the previous story Sins, Hormones, and the Starlet's Boyfriend

"Hey Yunjin, wow, that looks a little too breedable, hope it's not too cold." Yunjin's head snaps at the stylist's comment.

"What? What did you say?" she asks tersely.

"Huh? I said it looks breathable, like I hope it doesn't get too cold out there."

"Oh, got it, yeah, should be fine, sorry stylist-unnie." The stylist looks at her oddly, but just shakes her head and leaves.

"Yunjin, are you ok?" Sakura lays a concerned hand on her. "You seem off."

"Ah yeah, I'm fine." She was decidedly not fine. Yunjin is horny, and just like someone with horns, she snaps out at people unexpectedly. Her nights have been muted but wet, her moans muffled into the pillow to not disturb her members. Regrettably her own self-pleasure has been unsatisfying. No thanks to him! Nothing felt quite as good after her evening at Somi's place. They did work together on some songs after, but whenever she ran into him with Somi he was nothing but polite. Like a puppy he was devoted to Somi, checking in on her, leaving her little notes in her studio, and never sparing Yunjin anything but a courteous nod and greeting. It bugged her, not that she was jealous of Somi, more that she was envious of Somi, because she knows what he was capable of.

That he could be a wolf at Somi's wishes, and that he could tear Yunjin's clothes apart and eat Yunjin whole. That he would make her scream in pleasure, and she needed to scream in pleasure, to let loose right about yesterday. She can't do that in the dorms! A dildo is nice and all, and Yunjin has one or two that stretch her pretty well, but not with the force he could drive into her. There's also a fire in her belly, or rather, fire in her womb, and no dildo could satisfy her raw desire to have potent cum pumped straight into her. So with a hand drifting between her legs, she taps out a message to Somi.

*Hey Somi, really sorry to ask this, can I borrow your boyfriend for a night?*

*Like last time? sure, I could use a break after last week, when do you want him*

Yunjin let's out a muted moan at that thought—she can only imagine what the two of them have been up to, how hard does he go that the energetic Somi needs a break? And when does she want him? Oh god like a month ago! It takes all of her self-control to not type "ASAP" into her phone, and instead Yunjin settles for:

*Whenever's good for him*

Even with a date set, Yunjin still finds herself surprised, yelping when she sees him come through her dressing room door.

"Shh, unless you want everyone to know."

"What are you doing here?" She hugs him, a friendly greeting.

"Somi wanted me to give you a surprise." The greeting turns intimate, and Yunjin's body is suddenly flooded with heat as he pulls her flush against him. His hand is daring, and through the mirror behind him she watches his hand dip under her skirt, and then—

"Ohhhhh!" The loud moan leaks unbidden as he squeezes her ass firmly, palming her cheek over the safety shorts. Fuck now she wants to take the shorts off, to have him squeeze her ass directly, maybe spank it even. Unconsciously she pushes her hips back, wanting him to feel more of her ass. Very consciously he pushes her hips back to him, and there is a different kind of flooding as he presses his hardness against her.

"Not so loud, you really want to get caught don't you?" Yunjin doesn't want to get caught, but it feels so good to be touched, to be handled roughly like the way he was doing right now. "You're looking mighty breedable." This time Yunjin's sure she did not mishear. If anything, he would want her outfit to be completely breathable—naked, specifically. To her delight he unbuckles his pants, quickly revealing his stiffness.

Yes! He smiles into her neck and Yunjin freezes, did she say that out loud? There's no time to think though as he pushes her down slightly, and Yunjin's mind goes blank, feeling his shaft even through the layer of her safety shorts. She buries her face in his chest, muffling her moans as he rubs his cock between her legs—she helps him by grinding down on it, as if she's trying to split her lips over his tool.

"Close your thighs." Yunjin follows his request immediately, and the two of them breathe a little heavier as skin meets skin, her smooth thighs rubbing against his raw hardness. He begins to move, thrusting slowly between her thighs and rubbing against her pussy, and the memories of their previous encounter come easily to mind. A large hand squeezes her butt again, and his fingers dig deep into her flesh, sinfully tracing between her cheeks. Yunjin's reminded of the way he grabbed Somi's ass last time, and intrusive thoughts start coming in, her mind going wild as she imagines how they fuck, influenced by the bits and pieces she hears from Somi.

I could use a break after last week

First thing he does coming home is to jump me

He just explodes in you

"Nngh fuck..." This was just supposed to be a little surprise tease, but Yunjin's so deprived that even this is enough to have her hurtling towards an orgasm. A playful smack on her ass, and Yunjin's world goes white. She bites her lower lip hard as she suppresses a squeal, legs going weak as she reaches a relieving climax. When she recovers her forehead is pressed against his chest, and looking down she can see his shaft shining a little, covered in her own slick, rubbing her pussy to extend her pleasure. It's hypnotizing, and Yunjin can't take it anymore.

"You can p-put it in..." she whispers.

"No, not today." Her whine when he pulls away is utterly depraved, watching him put his erection back in his pants. "Today's just a surprise."

"You didn't finish yet!" She wants to help him finish, she wants him. "Let me—" Yunjin drops to her knees, eager to take him in her mouth, but to her shock he resists, taking one more step away from her.

"Nuh-uh, today's loads are for Somi. I'll see you next time." He pats her head, and a stunned Yunjin remains on her knees as the door closes behind him.

Today's... loads? Multiple? For Somi? Somehow, despite her orgasm, Yunjin is even more aroused than before. Yunjin quickly stands up before anyone comes in and sees her kneeling on the ground, but as she does she realizes she has another problem—how is she going to explain why her safety shorts are soaked through?

"Fuck me..." she utters to herself.

The day arrives, but it is with simmering frustration that Yunjin waits in the hotel room, thighs crossing and uncrossing as she awaits his arrival. She checks her phone constantly—he's late, and yet no message! Surely he didn't forget? Or did he get the day wrong? Or did he skip out on her? Maybe he just thought "Eh, pass." The mere contemplation of the last thought sends Yunjin into indignant anxiety—how could he turn her down! Did he not have a good time last time? Should she have insisted on giving him a blowjob right then?

It is with such thoughts that Yunjin opens the door when he finally arrives, her expression prompting him to ask a patently absurd question.

"Is now not a good time? Should we reschedule?" As if Yunjin could reschedule her need to get fucked!

"No." She pulls him in and slams the door behind him. "You're late."

"By..." He checks his phone. "8 minutes? I just missed the train and had to wait for the next. What's wrong?" Yunjin's self-inflicted dourness lightens as she watches him remove his coat, the mere sight of him taking off clothing reawakening her arousal.

"N-Nothing, just frustrated, sorry."

"Well, that's what I'm here for." Any doubts she had about him or herself go out the window as he hugs her like last time, kissing her demandingly. His fingers run through her hair, his other hand firm around her waist—one strokes her hair, the other strokes her lower back. It is almost sweet, like the last time they had sex, but Yunjin's too horny for that.

"I need you to fuck me roughly," she breathes into his ear, and the stroking pauses.

"Roughly?"

"Last time, the way you fuck Somi, you said there was the intimate way and the—"

"The rough way, yes I remember." His expression hardens slightly, as if preparing to be rough with her, and Yunjin gets wetter. A thrill goes down her spine when he opens his mouth again. "What's your safeword?"

Safeword, oh my god, just how rough do they get?! Yunjin buys herself some time, trying not to think about how rough he and Somi get. "Do you and Somi have a safeword?"

"We did."

"Did?"

"We learnt our limits over time, and we eventually stopped using it." Yunjin isn't scared, but she also worries about biting off more than she can chew, or take, in this case. Nevertheless she bluffs, unimpressed by her own behavior earlier.

"No safeword for me then either, no limits, I can take it." He stares at her, and Yunjin stares back, willing herself to hold his gaze. He is the first to blink, and he clears his throat.

"Let's pick up from where we left off then, I want to use your mouth." He leisurely removes his pants, and Yunjin drops to her knees once more, eager to finally get started. He is in her hands, hard and ready, all for her! She tries to bring her head to his, but is stopped by a hand on her scalp.

"Ah ah, I want to use your mouth, not receive a blowjob. Get on the bed." His tone is commanding, and Yunjin doesn't dare protest. He pulls her to the edge of the bed, her head hanging off the side. "Open." The blood is beginning to rush to Yunjin's head, and she has no stray thoughts, her mouth hanging open upside down.

"Ggllhk, mmph!" It is the first time she takes him in the mouth, and his length seems monstrous in size, filling her oral cavity, and pushing into her throat.

"Breathe through your nose," is the reminder and the order, and Yunjin complies, breathing in oxygen mixed with his musk—intoxicating. "Relax your throat." Deeper he goes, and Yunjin has to strain a little to allow him to push on further. On and on, until his sack taps against her nose and upper lip.

Today's loads, all for me! is the only thought in her head.

"Good?" He asks. Yunjin dangles an arm behind her, feeling his muscular ass and squeezing it, trying to push him forward.

I'm perfect. "Ghhk!" Panic takes over Yunjin when she feels a hand on her throat, giving her a slight squeeze.

"Relax, trust me, let me take over, let me do the work." She breathes deeply through her nose, trying her best to relax her body. "Good girl." Rhythmically the fingers on her throat tense and slack, moving back and forth on her neck. His hips move slightly too—not quite thrusting, just enough for some friction. "Such a nice fucking cocksleeve."

The thought should have incensed Yunjin—her throat, her instrument as Le Sserafim's vocalist, now used as nothing but a fleshlight, a mere instrument of pleasure. Yet as he throbs inside her neck the idea only served to turn her on, to heighten her arousal. He wanted to use her mouth, and by God he was using all of her mouth. Her hands drift to her own body, diving beneath her shorts and between her spread legs. She moans as she touches her lips—she's soaked! However, Yunjin is swiftly admonished, the grip around her throat tightening.

"Not your turn yet." He grabs her arm, pulling it back towards her neck. "Stroke me." He plants a knee on the bed, pushing even deeper, as if trying to fits his balls into her mouth as well. Yunjin is made to choke herself, her own hand grabbing her neck. She feels his thickness inside her throat, coughing a little as it throbs. She runs a hand up and down her neck, smearing her own juices across her skin. "That's it, fuck that's good!" Liquid trickles down Yunjin's face, messing up her makeup—not tears, but her own drool, flowing the wrong way down her face. Everything about this is wrong, why is she choking herself? Why is she letting him pin her head against the bed, why is he dunking his balls into her face?

Why does it feel so good?

When his orgasm happens Yunjin feels it more than tastes it—the jump of his cock, tip hitting the walls of her throat, and then the burst of gooey warmth against it. His hand goes back to her neck, squeezing it like he's gripping his cock, milking it for every drop. Yunjin trembles beneath him, beginning to run out of oxygen as he continues to spurt. The saltiness hits her tongue as he pulls out, the last remnants of his peak glazing across her lips and nose.

"Now it's your turn. Let's make you squirt."

"I'm— Haah, don't, mmm! Squirt." He doesn't give Yunjin any time to breathe, leaning over her, and plunging his fingers between her legs. There is an audible thump as Yunjin bumps her head against the edge of the bed, her body arching against him at the penetration—it has been too long! She opens her eyes when she realizes he's not moving, two fingers deep inside her keeping her stretched and full, but no friction, no pleasure. His face is at her hips, and he's looking back down her body, smiling back at her.

"You will."

"Mmm..." Yunjin lets her head dangle off the edge of the bed again as he starts moving, massaging her pussy from the inside. Maybe she's just incredibly aroused, but he seems to know just how to touch her, and the hot pleasure going through her body quickly becomes a boil. "Fuck yes, just like that!" She just needed that little bit more!

Then she feels it.

"Oh my god!" Her eyes open in surprise when he presses down on her abdomen, right over where his fingers are inside her. Together the set of hands seem to pin her g-spot in place, and he just works his fingertips against her weakness, prodding and rubbing at it incessantly. It's like he knows her body better than she does. Like he owns it! is the last thought before she blanks out.

"Oh fuck... FUCK ME!" Yunjin screams and grabs at his thighs, fingers digging into his flesh as she squirts for the first time, soaking her clothes like never before. She's too blissed out to even notice his hard-again cock bouncing against her face as she cries and shouts, smearing her pretty face with more leftover semen and newly made precum. When she comes to her head is lying on the bed, and he's caressing her cheek, or so she thought.

"Clean." He brings his fingers to her mouth, and Yunjin dutifully sucks them clean. "Do we taste good?" It takes a moment to process the taste—he had wiped her face with his hand, and his fingers were coated in her juices and his cum! The worst part is, they tasted good together, and Yunjin couldn't wait for their fluids to mix... Elsewhere.

He takes off the rest of his clothes, and Yunjin follows suit, peeling off her now sweaty and wet pieces. As soon as she does he's on her, and Yunjin finds herself facing the wrong way on her hands and knees. The breath is pushed out of her as she is unceremoniously filled. Is this what Somi means by being jumped, that he just turns her around and sinks into her? Does he also use Somi's throat like he did earlier—two of K-Pop's hottest starlets, and their throats and pussies are just wrapped around his cock like toys?

"Nngh... Fuck!" Yunjin doesn't have much more time to think about what he does with Somi as pleasure shoots through her body while he does her. Her cheeks clap loudly against his hips, his hands branding her milky skin with how tightly he's holding her.

"Such a tight fucking body!" he hisses, and Yunjin clenches around him in response, both from the praise and her desire to please him further. Each thrust jolts her senses, and Yunjin is slowly overwhelmed by the pleasure, her arms and legs going weak trying to prop her body up. He soon renders that unnecessary though by grabbing her wrists and yanking them back, pulling her upper body off the bed. He gathers her wrists behind her back, and with one hand holding them there Yunjin is powerless to do anything. 

"God deeper, h-harder!" Her arms are his reins as he rides her to one orgasm, and then another, like a stallion riding its mare. With her hands occupied there's no stifling her loud moans or cries of pleasure that fill the room, and as loud as she gets on Le Sserafim content, Yunjin is arguably even louder in bed. "Fuck I'm cumming! Oh fuck don't stop, please don't stop! F-Faster, more please— Oh my— Mmmmm!" Yunjin's tongue loosens as she finally gets the fuck she's been waiting for for a long time, and she's saying anything that comes to mind, shamelessly telling him how she wants to be plugged—faster, harder, deeper! She's fucked into another "hands-free" orgasm before he lets go, dropping her head to the bed. She finds herself in an even more compromising position when her mind is no longer blank with pleasure—he's still holding her by her hands, but now he's pulled them from beneath her body and between her legs, using it as a sling to hold her hips up.

"Ah..." Yunjin gasps breathlessly as he starts thrusting again. She tries to squirm and turn her head, to lift herself off the bed with pure core strength, but he simply pulls on her arms, forcing her head back to the bed with the see-saw action. She could touch her clit in the position, and Yunjin does so, adding a familiar pleasure to the more foreign pleasure of being fucked so thoroughly.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks when Yunjin recovers from another orgasm, and she can only whimper and nod, rubbing her face on the bedsheet. "Do you want me to get rougher?" She nods again, and in short order he has her screaming—he plants a foot on the bed and grabs her by the hips, and the new position allows him to fuck her even more powerfully at an even better angle. Yunjin was getting fucked earlier, now she's just getting dicked down and loving it.

"Nnnngh! Oh my god, oh my god!" She has to bite the sheets in both pain and pleasure—her throat is sore from the "blowjob" earlier, her arms are sore from his yanking and pulling, and without a doubt her pussy is going to be sore with how hard he's going to town on her, but Yunjin would not have it any other way. Her head spins as a large hand pushes her deeper into the bed, and then—

Without any warning beyond a grunt, he simply sinks his cock all the way into her and explodes, filling her womb with potent DNA shrapnel. Each send of his hips sends even more cum into her, claiming more and more of Yunjin's pussy. She can only moan when she feels liquid trailing down her thighs—he's overflowing out of her!

"Y-You came so much..." Yunjin gasps, but he isn't remotely done with her. She finds herself on her back, and her fingers in her own pussy as he pushes them in.

"Clean yourself out before I fuck you again."

"W-What?! W-Wait!" Yunjin whimpers in overstimulation as four fingers are shoved into her, digging his load out from inside. Through thick and thin fingers does his load spill out from her, and the flow does not cease—so copious and thick is his seed that she finds herself on the verge of climax again just trying to get all of it out. "W-Why do you need to get it out? Nngh!"

"I don't want any sloppy seconds."

But it's your cum! Yunjin wants to cry out, yet it comes out as a wordless shout when he makes her clench again in orgasm, both his and her fingers fucking her roughly, forcing Yunjin to push his load out. What an image she makes right now—she lays sprawled out on the bed, fingers plunged deep in her own cum-filled snatch. It's no wonder he's hard again by the time Yunjin manages to piece a thought together. He rubs his tip against her messy and gooey entrance, and to Yunjin's shock he aims below her slit, lifting her legs slightly.

"I'm going to fuck your ass." A chill runs down her spine—whatever she had been looking for from him, it definitely wasn't that.

"N-No wait, not there!" Without responding he brings two fingers to her slit, gathering her slick and his cum before smearing it around her puckered ring. "Please, not there, I don't want it there!"

"What's your safeword then?" Her blood runs cold when she realizes her folly—she told him she didn't need one, and told him there were no limits! And now he's lubing her up, spreading her cheeks!

"No, please don't!" No no no no no no no! But he is unbudging, ignoring her pleas and making a show of prepping his thrusts. Once, then a second time does his cock seem to bump around her ass, as if "missing" his target. He makes a show of pulling his hips back, and Yunjin braces for losing her anal cherry—she could have pushed him off, or kicked him away earlier, but with his hands pinning her arms down her mind is going blank, and her hands grip the sheets, eyes tightly shut as she prepares for the pain. She can only manage one final whimper.

"Please—"

His cock sheathes inside her pussy with a smooth thrust, and for the first time ever Yunjin cums on the initial penetration. The relief and sudden pleasure instead of pain mix blissfully in Yunjin's head, and her legs wrap around his hips as she cums, locking him in, afraid he would actually take her ass if he pulls out again.

"And that's why we have safewords." He whispers in her ear, nibbling on her ear lobe and earning himself a whimper of "You're right." He unwraps Yunjin's legs from behind him and puts her in a mating press, hooking her knees with his elbows. Regardless of the position he chooses Yunjin is powerless, limp with pleasure as he begins plowing her again, stretching her sore pussy even more. For a brief moment Yunjin watches him, his hair mess and ruffled, wolfish... 

Wolfish? 

She's reminded of the fanfics she's read on her lonely nights, about alphas and omegas. She has no idea if he's ever read anything like that, or even aware of that concept, but he sure is fucking her like an alpha, and for her part, from the way she's yelping, she might as well be an omega in heat, her pussy molded in the shape of his cock. He kisses her, tongue demanding Yunjin's own tongue in return. The kiss is so intense, so ferocious, that Yunjin's head begins to spin, beginning to run out of breath. To the kiss he adds an unexpected move—with a hand he pinches Yunjin's nose, and between his kiss, the pinch, and the absolute pounding he's still able to give her, she starts to panic once more, quickly running out of oxygen, each jolt of her body unable to give her the air she needs.

"Mm, mm!" She grabs his shoulder, trying to tap him weakly, but her grip is loosening by the second, her consciousness fading. Her eyes open, and he has a lupine grin on his face—he might actually fuck her to death. He pulls away and says something, but she can only read his lips before she combusts.

Cum.

Yunjin's eyes roll into her head, the chemicals rushing her brain as oxygen flows back into her lungs. Yet again the mix of relief and pleasure is intoxicating, and her mouth hangs open, silently screaming as she squirts around him again. She jerks uselessly below him, her pussy contracting around his cock her only grip on reality anymore. Her limbs feel like jelly, and she has to whine and whimper to get him to throw her arms around his neck and hug her. Between the choking, the squirting, the threat of anal, and then the simultaneous kissing and choking and squirting she just went through earlier, Yunjin's brain is mush, intrusive thoughts entering and taking root. As far as she is concerned he is her alpha, and her lizard brain submits to him—if he wanted to take her ass now she wouldn't say no. But Yunjin wants something more.

"What is it?" his growl cuts through her orgasm-induced brain fog.

"Huh?"

"You've been mumbling, not moaning, spit it out." He thrusts harder, and Yunjin placates him by moaning—even now she doesn't want to reveal the depths to which her desires have descended to. The resistance is token though, and if her alpha wants to hear her needs, she would tell him. He asks her with his body, cock plunging in and out of her roughly; he actually wants to just hear her moan more, but Yunjin's omega-twisted mind treats it as delightful punishment, as if trying to make her speak, and the words begin tumbling out of her mouth.

"B-Breed... Breed me, please breed me." She finds his gaze, her eyes round and dilated, clouded with submissive lust. "Breed me like you own me." He slows down, and Yunjin immediately panics. "No, keep going, don't stop! Don't stop!"

"Say it again," he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. Yunjin does what her alpha wants.

"Breed me."

"The full thing, all of it." His next thrust is harder, and he pushes Yunjin's legs even further back, her ankles now near her ears. Later she would reflect on how she's normally not this flexible, but if he can fuck the kinks into her, maybe he's fucking the flexibility into her as well.

"Breed me like I belong to you."

"Louder!"

"Breed me like I'm your BITCH!" The last word is a shriek as he thumps solidly against her cervix. Yunjin's alpha leans over her, allowing him to pound straight down into her creamy warmth. Her ankles hook around his neck as Yunjin's folded in half, and she screams out in delirious joy at being ferociously, if not brutally, mated. Over and over he slams straight down into her, until he latches his mouth to her neck and sucks on her skin hard, marking her while he pumps her full of seed. The warm explosion rips through her womb and goes straight to her feral brain, and Yunjin cums with him one final time, scratching deep red lines on his arms and back, all while shredding her vocal cords as she lets loose her loudest cry yet. 

"YES YES YES YESSSSS!"

The silence after is deafening, and Yunjin's world goes fuzzy and fades to black.

She wakes up late next morning, her body blissfully sore from the night before. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire, but the fire in her belly had been quenched, and Yunjin nestles into the bed a little bit more until reality finally calls in the form of her manager looking for her. She comes up with a flimsy excuse, but she knows she has to get up. Disappointingly Somi's boyfriend is nowhere to be found, and after Yunjin showers and dresses again, groaning the whole time in soreness, she finds what he left her on the desk.

I hope I was of help to you. I greatly enjoyed last night, and hope you did too.

P.S. Just in case

Where the hell did Somi find a guy like that? Yunjin thinks to herself. How can he be so polite, so considerate (Her clothes were folded in a neat pile on the couch!) after fucking her brains out last night? Regardless Yunjin feels a small amount of pride, knowing that he had enjoyed last night too. She also finds the morning-after pills he had left next to the note. Intrusive thoughts from last night still linger in her head—unbeknownst to him, the date he had picked, last night, was actually one of her more fertile days, and a primal part of her wants to flush the pills down the toilet and let things take their natural course, to let her alpha breed her. Yunjin's hand travels to her neck, feeling where he had shoved his cock down her throat and then choked her... God even that mere thought is enough to warm her body, and her hand drifts down her belly.

But no, it's a new day, and Yunjin claps her hands to her face, trying to clear her head. She takes the pills and washes it down with a glass of water. And with that, the fire in her womb is satiated.

For now.

A/N: Le Sserafim's song titles are too fun to play around with lol, they all can be made to sound kinda dirty XD So have more of Yunjin, thanks for reading!

[srslylini]

you know what I want to add a little bit more to that post. Mostly about the "Mel got removed from Jayce and finally became her own character" bit.

I fear my first reblog hasn't really captured the spirit of that yet. We get to know Mel in the second episode of season 1 and her first scene shows us how calculating and smart she is. She is also very aloof in this scene, not even acknowledging the person handing her the puzzles. Her conversation with Elora, while still showing some sort of relationship, is also distanced. She talks about her riches and how she is "still the poorest medarda" despite being the richest person in Piltover.

So what this tells us is this:

She is alone. In her family she seems to be the odd one out. She thinks herself to be standing in the shadow of her family (=mother though we only find that out in episode 8 of season 1). In short this basically tells us a contradiction. While everything they already gave us at this point in the show tells us she is incredible, smart, knowledgeable etc, she sells herself short.

When Mel talks to her mother about her banishment it isn't just a conversation, it explains to us who Mel is and why she is that way. It tells us that in a way she is self conscious and hides herself away. This is the starting point of her character, keep that in mind.

Ok, that brings us to my next point. How she used that childrens toy to her advantage. Again, smart as fuck. Had she not done this, then Jayce would have been banished. There were 4 votes against 3 meaning gaining that one vote changed the fate of Jayce, literally. She didn't find Jayce interesting as a person but as an investment during this time though. Nothing about him influenced any of her decisions, especially not here. She chose to give away that toy and she chose to vote against Jayce's banishment.

The look Mel and Jayce give each other after Jayce and Viktor found their way to Hextech also already spoke volumes. They obviously had the hots for each other and like good for them, lmao. After the timejump their relationship has shifted as well. While she still obviously sees the investment, she now also sees him as a person, too. They are extremely comfortable with each other.

Now after Jayce didn't show their newest Hextech project? She did walk away but that also gave us something:

She very obviously isn't resentful. That is also seen in how, while rightfully being annoyed, she immediately gets why Jayce left after their night together. Her giving Jayce the position in the council ALSO wasn't cause she loved him but for political reasons. That, again, tells us another thing about her:

She can clearly separate work and home life.

All of this, while maybe including Jayce, are of her own character and not because of someone else. We see her acting in the council too, and that's also interesting. Because while some others like Salo seem to be ready to jump around and scream, she never does. She waits, calculates, listens and then offers her voice. She is never holding back but she also doesn't just react crazy. Not once. Not after the explosion happens in act 1 of season 1, not when Jayce talks about Magic, not when Vi is in the council with Caitlyn, not even in the end of season 1 when Jayce proposes the peace treaty with Zaun. None of this is linked to Jayce or because of Jayce. She just is her own character.

And then season 1 did something incredibly fascinating. Now they actually introduced a character Mel seems to have some dependency to. Her mother; Ambessa Medarda. It's reluctant and it's awkward and it strengthens her character very much.

At this point in the story the love between Jayce and her is already blossoming, it's after their sex scene. Their relationship doesn't influence any of her other decisions, she doesn't suddenly act differently to before or becomes dependent on Jayce. If anything it, again, strengthens her.

When in the beginning we saw her as thinking she is standing in her mothers shadow, she now steps into the light when she steps up and calls out Ambessa. When she lets go of the weight of family holding her down to vote for peace, it also shows how she's grown. She isn't distanced anymore, nor is she someone who stills sees herself in her mothers shadow. Her character went from incredible with an arc before her to that arc being masterfully concluded. And that happened WITH Jayce and not BECAUSE of Jayce. When in the beginning she was aloof, distanced and calculating, in the end she was ready to show herself to Jayce, be herself and be caring. She wasn't distanced and gave Jayce a look into her life (telling him about her family after he told her about his troubles).

She was still very smart but also let herself be emotional about a decision, she gave away the weight of her family and left the shadow it cast over her completely.

Anyways yeah just wanted to talk more about Mel. Because she was nothing but very interesting in season 1 and saying she just now got interesting after not being with Jayce rubbed me the wrong way whoops

[artdcnaldson]

PATRICK buying ART TOYS!!!! buying him a VIBRATING COCK RING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAKES him let him WATCH!!!!!!!! HE BOUGHT IT AFTER ALL……. ITS ONLY POLITE………….. sigh

-🩰

ok... yeah... sorry for the delay pookie wookie i hope you forgive me <3

But yeah <3 Patrick loves buying Art toys after he buys him the fleshlight <3 Loves thinking about how he contributes to Art's corruption with each little black bag he drops onto his bed.

But it's a joke! Of course it's a joke. It's a joke to watch Art splutter nervously and whine and beg Patrick to quit messing around when he pulls out whatever it is this week. It doesn't feel like a joke when Art pulls out a stroker toy or a bullet vibe and holds it in his big, lithe hands and Patrick feels his cock twitch just at the sight. Sometimes it really is a joke. A blow up doll, a ball gag (okay, that one was half a joke).

He gets back to their dorm first, almost twitching with anticipation as he waits for Art to get back and open up the bag Patrick left on his bed. It's after a late night at the gym (in which Patrick did not partake), so when Art gets back he's a little damp from his shower, flushed with exhaustion. And that blush only deepens when he sees the bag.

"How do you have the money to buy all this shit?" Art grumbles as he approaches the bed. "I could call your mom and get your card cancelled if she even knew the half of w—"

He goes quiet when he pulls out the package— thick plastic encasing a device he doesn't even know where to start with. He swallows, squints at it, tries to ignore the way his cock kicks with interest. "What is it?"

Patrick's mouth feels dry. "It's a, uh, it's a cock ring," he stammers, uncharacteristically affected by Art's obvious innocence.

"I thought they'd be different," Art says. But he's still holding it, Patrick notes. He hasn't dropped it and tried to pretend he wasn't interested. That was Art's way of doing things— pretend he wasn't into it until he was alone and could be a little degenerate in private. "Looks confusing."

"It's not," Patrick says. "I could show you."

He expects Art to scoff, to call him some name, to flip him off and change the subject. But he watches the bob of Art's adam's apple, meets his gaze. "Only if it isn't weird."

It's weird. They both know it's weird. Art's cock is nearly at half-mast, but Patrick still manages to fit the silicon ring around him, all the way down to his base.

Art whines, chest heaving, eyes lust-blown. "That's— ngh— tight. It's tight."

"It's s'posed to be," Patrick says, peering up at him from between his thighs. He adjusts it, so the attached vibrator rests at his perinium, a place Art hardly even thinks about, and now there's a firm pressure that makes heat build in his tummy, and Patrick presses a button and--

"Agh!—" He nearly doubles over when it starts vibrating, the muscles in his thighs trembling as the sensations overwhelm him. "Oh, oh fuck, Pat— ngh— Oh my god, that's— fuckfuckfuck— I can't— can't—"

Any other time, he would've blown his load early— cum buckets all over his lap and tummy. Instead, the snug ring at his base keeps him hard, and aching, and wanting. Right on the edge of release. His hips buck and his cock bobs, flushed an angry, needy red.

Patrick grins as Art clumsily pumps lotion into his hand and begins stroking his cock with fast, desperate movements. He's never seen Art this turned on... for this long. He's so used to seeing Art needy and cumming hard and fast.

This is new, it's delicious. "You're lasting pretty long, Art," Patrick teases, like he isn't rock hard in his sweats. "You should wear this more often."

"Shut— ngh— up—" Art whines, bucking into his fist. "Feels so— god— so good, it's— god, you've gotta try it—"

And Patrick will. God, he will. But he wants to watch Art use it a dozen more times before that happens.

It isn't long before Art can't hold back anymore. When he cries out with the most guttural, desperate moan Patrick's ever heard from him as he shoots ropes onto his shirt. He squirms and nearly cries with overstimulation until Patrick turns off the vibrator.

He's panting, breathing hard like he's just run a marathon. Red faced and laughing wryly. "You're evil. Stop buying me shit."

Patrick just grins back. He's not going to stop. He's going to ruin Art Donaldson for everyone else.

[peachyscenes]

nine to five | office workers!enhypen x fem!reader

notes: SMUT!! so mdni and proceed with caution/at your own risk! porn with some plot. you 🫵, my dear reader are in fact the same person for the rest of this piece/mini-series (not sorry lol). enhypen are pervs! like freaky pervs! decelis corp is lowkey highkey a sex service company lol. you must really need this job but it's ok because same. not required, but i encourage you all to read part one and two to give them love 🫶🫶

a/n: me when my final for a class was monday the 23rd and christmas eve was tuesday and then christmas was wednesday and now new years is TODAY 😭😭

taglist!: @vixialuvs @chubbypeach2111 @jungwoosbaey

reblogs are appreciated!!

Welcome to Decelis Corporation! As the new member of the creative department, you're tasked with developing new ideas to help promote the company and bring in new investors! Though the creative department is not as big as the other departments, you and your seven teammates are just as capable and incredibly skilled! Though, no one told you just how skilled they were... And unfortunately you made the mistake of not reading the fine print when signing the contract...

All members are welcome to explore the services provided by Decelis! By signing this contract, you are consenting to every and all services at your own expense (refer to the employee handbook for the list of services)! Please note that services outside of office hours will not count as overtime unless a request has been submitted by the team leader!

Thank you for joining Decelis Corporation! We hope to have you for a while!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Part III: Jake, Data Entry Clerk

There's a small part of you that can't help but feel smitten whenever Jake comes to you about something. His charms are different from your other coworkers. His smile is infectious and his eyes quite literally sparkled when he asked you to hand some files to Sunghoon before you went on break. Jake Sim is so polite and sweet that you almost never question him.

You're walking into Decelis when you notice that the elevators are down and a couple of people outside of it discussing its condition. Quickly, you seek out the front door receptionist to figure out why.

"They've been acting up since yesterday in the evening. At around 6:00pm I think. The technicians have been working on it early this morning. You'll have to take the stairs." She gives you an apologetic smile, and you can only thank her and return the gesture because at the end you know it's not anyone's fault. Thank goodness your company actually cares. Fortunately, your department is only on the third floor, so while you did have to climb a bit (and shamefully you were absolutely winded), it definitely beats being on the higher floors.

Upon entering your department, you're immediately bombarded with tasks to do (courtesy of Jongseong). You want to complain about how you just got here, but you're suddenly reminded of the last time you ran your mouth to Jay.

Your bum aches at the reminder.

You decide to just listen, so you get settled and begin to work on your files. About an hour goes by when there's a knock on your desk. You look up to be met with Jake's blinding smile.

"Working hard or hardly working?" You sigh and smile back at him.

"I wish it was the latter."

Jake snorts. "Tell me about it." He looks around the office before grabbing a nearby chair and sitting across from you. You look around too, curious as to what he was searching for. You notice that Jay's desk is empty.

"Jay's been on our asses for the last two weeks. I can't believe Heeseung threw us to the slaughter." You giggle at his dramatics. Heeseung had to extend his week for a business trip, meaning that he'd be back next week.

"It's not so bad. He hasn't scolded anyone yet."

"Yet. I bet it's gonna be Riki this time. I noticed that the coffee pot is a quarter away from being empty." You look over to the said individual's desk and lo and behold, a fresh cup next to him.

"To be fair, he, Jungwon, and Sunoo do have a presentation later this afternoon. I guess he's feeling stressed."

Jake shrugs before turning to you once again.

"Speaking of afternoon... how about you and I get lunch together? I saw that didn't bring anything."

"Isn't your lunch an hour before mine?"

Jake nods, but gives no further explanation. He simply smiled, waiting for you to answer him.

"Okay, let's get lunch together."

You never questioned Jake. He was simply charming. Not even when his staring was lingering, or when he'd accidentally brush up against you. He was polite.

It's finally your lunch break when Jake shows up at your desk. There was an email about the elevators finally working, but it's advised that the stairs keep being used. Jake, ever the persuader, said that the elevator was fine.

"Decelis hires the best of the best. Everything will be fine."

You both hadn't even made it off the third floor when there's a stutter in the elevator's movement and then a complete stop. You wait a few seconds, two minutes, when you both decide that the elevator are down. Again.

Jake had called Jongseong to let him know of the situation. You're not in immediate danger, so there's no need to rescue you both, but the wait would be long, mostly likely your whole work day.

"I'll give you both a two day extension for the work, but I would prefer if it got submitted on time." You can hear the annoyance in Jay's voice and it took everything in you to not tell him off. Jake thanks him before hanging up.

"So much for my lunch." You grumble. You lean against the elevator wall, slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Doll."

What?

You whip your head up upon hearing the pet name, and you're met with something different. A smirk.

This Jake is different from your usual one. While his eyes still sparkled, they had a hint of something more mischievous. And his charming smile is replaced with a dangerous expression. One that has you hypnotized.

"It's my fault that we're in this mess. Don't you think?"

"I-I guess..."

Jake closes in on you, and due to the limited space of the elevator, he stands in front of you pretty quickly.

"What if I make it up to you. I'll buy your dinner later. And..."

"And...?" His smirk grows, and you're sure that you just fell in his trap.

"Let me eat your sweet pussy."

It doesn't take much to convince you. A couple kisses here and there and you're letting Jake take off your dress pants before he drops to his knees.

Jake kisses up from your ankle, occasionally licking and nibbling at your skin. He keeps eye contact with you as he makes his way up.

"Heeseung said your pussy is sweet. I've been fantasizing about how you taste since."

"Y-You talked about me?" You feel breathless as he passes your knee and his hair brushes the front of your mound.

"We all do. You're so pretty, how could we not?" He reaches the front of your underwear, and teasingly gives you a kiss on your clothed pussy. Jake gently brings one of your legs up to his shoulder before leaning in to inhale your cunt through your underwear. He lets out a guttural groan, biting his lip and leaning in to give you a tentative lick right above where your clit is.

You feel your heart quickening. Seeing Jake from this angle made you feel something. Something primal and his stupid, pretty doe eyes that somehow still held stars in them did not help. You wanted to see him cry so bad. You wanted big, fat tears to fall from his apple cheeks. Your hand finds its way into his hair and you pull his head back, causing his brows to shoot up and a slight blush to show on his face.

"If you wanna taste, you gotta beg Puppy."

Jake feels his stomach turn at the tone of your voice. It does something to him and he can only let out a whine at the sudden change of roles.

"Can I taste your pussy, Miss?"

"Do you deserve it Pup? You said it was your fault..." You elicit another whine from him. His voice heightens in pitch.

"I didn't know the elevator would go down-!" Another sound, this time a whimper when you tighten your grip in his hair.

"Watch your tone."

"M-M'sorry Miss! Please! Let me taste you! I promise to be good, I promise! Please let me taste your pussy!"

You don't say anything. Instead you move his head to your clothed cunt and press his face against you. He lets out a muffled 'thank you!' before lapping at your cunt, soaking the fabric of your underwear with his saliva. He keeps his hands to his side as he works his tongue on you. Your legs spread further to accommodate to his body that leans more into you. His tongue is warm and long.

You feel him lick what he can and when you look down, his eyes are staring right back at you. You moan when his tongue comes back to where you clit is. Jake slightly pulls back to throw a dollop of spit onto your clothed pussy before diving back in. His eyes roll back when he feels your own slick start to leak through.

He whimpers when you pull him back to see his work. Your folds are sticking to your underwear, making your pussy visible to him. The color of your panties do not help him. You wore white today, so the fabric almost blends in with your cunt, making every crease visible to him.

"Can I please take off your panties Miss?" Jake looks up at you pathetically and you can see his tears begin to form at his waterline.

You pretend to dwell on his question before giving him the okay. Jake's hands shoot up to the sides of your hips, ready to yank your panties down, when you stop him. You take his hands and place them on your thighs.

"M-Miss?"

You smile at him. Your hand cups his cheek, lovingly rubbing the apple of it with your thumb before running your thumb down to his mouth and opening his jaw. You slip your thumb into his mouth and Jake automatically sucks on it. You thrust your thumb into and out for a bit before taking it out. You run your thumb across his lower lip before speaking to him.

"Take them off with your teeth."

Jake doesn't hesitate, and immediately leans in to take your waistband in between his pearly whites. Jake slowly sinks down, tugging your panties off. He makes it to about your knees when you stop him. You gently tug on his hair and pull him back. He lets out another whine, and you can only giggle before leaning down to kiss him on the lips. Jake moans into you, using the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. You thread your hand through his hair you you both kiss. His hands knead your thighs. You break the kiss to speak to him.

"That's enough. You've been so good to me Jakey."

You stand at your full height, taking off your panties before slinging them at him.

"Keep them. You're such a good boy."

You lean back against the wall of the elevator before spreading your legs. Jake immediately goes in and begins to devour you. His previous ministrations have your pussy dripping, his tongue was sliding easily between your folds. You moan when you feel his tongue circling around your clit and sucking on it. You push his face even further into you and Jake moans. His tongue doesn't miss a single inch of your pussy and you moan when you realize just how bad Jake wants you. You keep Jake in place on your cunt and let out another moan as he buries himself, his nose bumping against your clit.

"You love my pussy, right Jakey?"

Jake moans in response as his tongue laps at your hole. The raw taste of you is better than what he imagined and he doesn't think any other taste will satisfy him after this. His tongue prods at your hole, teasing it before delving into it. He thrusts his tongue in and out, feeling just how warm and sweet you were.

No wonder Heeseung and Jay like you so much.

Jake fucks you with his tongue and you feel yourself starting to lose your mind. Your moans begin to get louder and louder. Your legs want to clamp around his head and trap him, but his hands prevent you from doing so. They're rubbing at your thighs so gently, calm. The complete opposite of how his mouth is ruining you. Your chest heaves and before you realize it, you're coming on his tongue. Jake helps you ride out your orgasm, switching between sucking on your clit and licking your folds. A final touch to your clit has you whining and you have to gently push his head away from between your legs.

Your legs feel like jelly when he stands, and had it not been for the arm that wraps around your waist, you would've definitely fallen to the ground. Jake holds you close to him for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You're about to ask him if you could help him with his boner when you notice the wet patch at the front of his pants.

Jake looks down and a slight blush appears on his face out of embarrassment.

"I really enjoyed myself."

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

I don't know you anymore (maybe I never really did)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: fluff, angst (happy ending to come)

warnings: slytherin reader, some serious emotional dodging and avoidance but you know me it all ends up ok, peter is your bestie and that's just the way it is sorry, no happy ending YET but I promise it's coming this is not a tragedy

a/n: happy ending next week I love y'all too much to leave you with heartache

"Sorry, love," Remus begins to bend down, hand reaching to pick up the book you'd dropped when the two of you collided in the library, but you quickly shoot your own hand out to snatch it up first. "What are you doing here this late?"

"Getting a book," you say plainly. Remus's brows furrow slightly, his eyes drifting over your figure as if to somehow see why you're acting so strangely.

"Alright, dove. We're all planning on studying pretty late tonight - you're welcome to join us. We can always sneak you back down to the dungeons whenever you're ready to call it a night." Remus is quiet when he talks, that soothing, soft air he has about him making your shoulders drop as you lean against the bookshelf next to you.

"As if I can't sneak myself around the castle without your help," you bite back playfully. A smile twitches across Remus's lips as he thinks, just for a moment, that you're back, that you'll follow him up to his common room and spend the night laying on a couch with him, your legs slung over James's lap while you throw wads of paper at Sirius's head. His heart thumps a little painfully when he realizes that he can't remember the last time you've done that with them - he can't remember the last time you've hung out with them at all. 

It's as if you remember that fact at the same time he does, as the faint smile slips off your face and you straighten. "I can't tonight," you say kindly. "But thank you." Remus blinks as you begin to move past him, your polite voice ringing through his head. Like we're strangers, he thinks weakly. Except you're not even that nice to strangers.

Remus is busy slouching against the nearest bookshelf and wondering what they possibly could have done to make you avoid them so desperately but so kindly when he hears you let out another sigh from where you've walked past him.

"Wow," Sirius drawls as Remus turns to see him and James standing in front of you and you pointedly looking past them, like you're a trapped animal searching for the nearest escape route. "I'd almost forgotten you go here still." Your gaze snaps to Sirius and you narrow your eyes at him.

"It's good to see you," James interjects, seeing the two of you size each other up and eager to avoid a showdown between you and Sirius. "How have you been, love?"

"You see me in class almost every day," you snipe back at Sirius before turning to James. "I've been busy, and I still am now so - if you'll excuse me." With that, you slip between the two of them, exiting the library swiftly. Remus sighs and Sirius scowls at the now empty doorway, James opting to look down at the floor, staring dejectedly like a kicked puppy. No doubt you're holing up down in the Slytherin dorms all night now - as far away as you can get from them. Sirius smoothes a hand over James's unruly curls as Remus squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

"We'll figure this out," he says gently, and as Sirius looks at him, he begs himself to believe it.

"You lost, Pete?" You don't look up from your book as Peter plants himself in the seat opposite you, frowning at you.

"Like we've never had breakfast together before," he huffs back, and you can't stop the smile that flits across your lips at the confidence that he's so clearly been nurturing. You close your book with a thump and place your chin in your hand, staring at him and waiting for him to continue. "Half the time, you're at the Gryffindor table. It can't be so different for me to come over here."

"Hm, maybe it's not," you shrug, picking your book back up to toss it across the table at him. "Read the back of that. You can borrow it when I'm done - I think you'll like it." Peter picks it up tentatively and gets about halfway through the synopsis before he's dropping it back on the table and crossing his arms.

"You're making them miserable," he says bluntly. You pout in a mocking sort of manner, but Peter's frown tells you that he doesn't believe you're as heartless as you typically let on.

"I thought you just came here to have breakfast with me," you switch tactics. 

"Tell me what's going on with you," he pushes. You straighten up in your seat.

"Why don't you just ask them?"

"I have - they don't know. Every time they try to talk to you about it, you find some reason to run away."

"Would you like to see that first hand?" 

"You can't run away from me. I'll cry," Peter insists. You sniff indignantly, mostly because you know he's right. The two of you stare at each other for a long time, and it's to your surprise that he doesn't waver. Your heart does something strange in your chest when you realize that his determination may be because this is more serious than you'd thought - you're hurting them more than you thought.

"They need to get over me, Pete," you say quietly.

"Why?" He presses.

"Because if they don't then this gets messy. None of us want that," you insist. Peter softens a bit, looking sympathetic.

"It's already messy." The bite has left Peter's voice as he reaches to pat your arm across the table. You look at his hand pointedly and he's reminded swiftly that anyone else who reached out to console you like that would get a smack from you. He smiles as he thinks of the kindness that lives in you that you seem to be blind to.

"I'll talk to them," you sigh, leaning forward to let your head thump down onto the table. Peter pats the top of your head gently and, for that, he does get a smack.

"James," your voice makes him stumble to a stop, whipping around to look at you so fast that you nearly run into him, sidestepping him at the last minute as he looks at you, bewildered.

"Are you talking to me?" He asks, confusion and surprise making his voice thick. Something painful twinges in your chest at his shock. Of course I am, you want to say. Who else would I ever want to talk to?

"Yes," is all you end up saying. James shifts on his feet and looks at you a little wearily.

"Are you ok?" He asks and a breath leaves your lungs quickly. 

"I'd like to talk to you… if you have a moment?" James looks at you strangely, but he just nods and leads you out of the hall to the quiet courtyard. There's no, of course I have time for you, pretty thing. I always have time for you. It's just James, stiff and silent and hurting… because of you.

"Peter says I'm making you all miserable," you say bluntly, regret immediately seeping into you at the way James flinches, sitting on the bench in front of you slowly. You stay standing in front of him, looking down at the way he runs a hand through his curls.

"It's just," he begins, looking around as if to find the answer somewhere, or maybe just to find some way of getting away from you. "If we knew what we'd done to upset you then maybe we could make it better. You're just freezing us out, lovely, and that means we can't fix… whatever it is that's happened."

"It's not…" Now it's your turn to look around vaguely, wishing you could get out from under his sharp gaze. "It's not anything you've done. It's just - it's the way things go sometimes. It's ok, James, you just have to move on." But James's face hardens at that, a sternness you're not used to overtaking his features as he stands so that he can look you eye to eye. You have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

"That's what you want us to do? Just… move on? Forget about you? Pretend we were never friends?" The sombre tone in his voice doesn't suit him, and neither does the timid hurt in yours.

"Are we friends, James? Is that what we all are?" James blinks at that, taking a step back and sitting back down onto the bench rather abruptly. When he looks up at you this time, there's something akin to remorse swimming in his eyes.

"Is that what it is, lo-" the pet name dies on his tongue as he presses his lips together firmly. "I'm sorry. I thought - we all thought that you felt the same way about us that we do about you. We thought… we thought we were all more than friends with you and that you… I'm sorry. We never dreamt of making you uncomfortable." You scoff at his words, shaking your head fondly and toeing at the dirt by his feet with your shoe.

"Uncomfortable?" You say disbelievingly. "Please - you three are the biggest gentlemen I've ever met. I don't think you could make me uncomfortable if you tried." James's shoulders sag in relief, but the look he gives you is still that of a lost, confused puppy. You look past him to see a group of students hurrying to their next class and open your mouth to remind James that the two of you also are officially late, but he speaks before you can.

"Then what is it? Please, just… what did we do?"

"It's like I said, James… it's just a bad idea. It's wrong and I can't do this. I… we have to get to class."

But James doesn't go to class that day. He sits on that bench, staring at the place you'd been standing in, until Remus and Sirius find him that evening. And as the two of them tug him up and inside, all he can think of is how they really have lost you.

[petew21-blog]

Best tutor ever

Jimmy, 23 y.o., law student

Jimmy struggled at university, because of his model side job. He really loved it, but he also wanted to be a great lawyer.

Eventually his parents found out. His father was furious and got one of the law professors Harrison to tutor Jimmy.

Although the professor didn't really like Jimmy, he helped him to get better. To improve. And eventually he found out that this young man, he assumed was just another jock, was a great young man.

They always went over the study materials and then had some bonding time talking about school, politics, their youth.

Jimmy eventually passed all exams needed. He went back to Mr. Harrison to thank him.

They went for a hug

Mr. Harrison:"Oh, Jimmy. I'm so happy. You're gonna be a great lawyer."

Jimmy:"Thank you, Mr. Harrison. You're the reason why I didn't fail. I would like to give you something. What would you like? A bottle of whiskey, vacation to Bahamas, new car? I think I owe you so much for helping me secure my future."

Mr. Harrison:"Slow down. You should only thank yourself. And do not give me anything. I'd desire to be young again as you to enjoy life, but that's not possible. So I'll at least enjoy helping young students like you to achieve their goals."

Jimmy smiled:"Ok, well I'll try to think of something"

Mr. Harrison couldn't sleep properly. It felt as if the night lasted an eternity.

He woke up the next morning. As he was used to, he would always rub his beard in the morning.

But while doing so, his fingers only traced a smooth face.

"What is this?"

His eyes opened. Something happened. He was still in his bed. But he felt different.

He looked at his arms. They were lighter, less hairy. But the skin looked tighter. He touched his left arm with his fingers and squeezed his stronger biceps.

Right at that moment, he noticed his fingers. They were longer, thinner. He knew his hands. He used them everyday at work, for everything. But these were not the hands he knew. They were younger. Different. There were no skin marks, the skin wasn't cracked. It looked young.

He looked down and noticed his lean chest. He used to be slim when he was young, but the stress from work made him gain weight and get that dad body. But this was a surprising change. His fingers traced his chest over the shirt.

Next was his belly. He was used to not be able to put some clothes over his belly. Not even being able to see his penis over it. But he even had ABS now!

He pushed away the covers. He uncovered his legs. He was so skinny now. The legs were longer than his. His legs were hairy

His knees didn't hurt. He was taken back by all of this happening.

He headed to the bathroom. He was surprised by a reflection of a young handsome man. He saw some resemblance with his younger self, but this body was different. He never had long hair.

He couldn't keep his new hands of his face, examining every part, every ridge of his face.

He still couldn't believe that this was happening. He was young again! His chin was so smooth! He was falling in love with his new appearenc.

He took of his shirt. His eyes fixated on his abs. On his nipples. His body had so many birthmarks.

He found his son's tighter shirt that would fit him better. Thanfully no one was home today. He would have a lot of trouble explaining how all ofnthi happened.

Even putting clothes on was a new surprisinf experience, it was so erotic for him to just brush over his body everytime he accidentally touched himself.

"I look amazing!" he said to his reflection

"Wow. This is my new voice. Hi, I'm Mr. Harrison. I'm young. I am young again!"

His phone vibrated. It was Jimmy.

Mr. Harrison:"Hello?"

Jimmy:"Hello there. How are you enjoying your new gift?"

Mr. Harrison:"Did you do this? How is this possible?"

Jimmy:"Don't worry about that. You wanna come celebrate with me? We could go to a beach to show of our bodies. You got long hair like me, don't you?"

Mr. Harrison:"Yeah. Well... ok. I think I'll go. But wait, Jimmy. What if I run into someone from my family?"

Jimmy:"Don't worry about it. I made sure that you'll get to enjoy everything. See you at the beach!"

Jimmy hanged up the phone. He went to his son's room and grabbed his swimshorts and a towel. He rushed down the stairs and took his son's shoes. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. He was ready to go, but someone spoke up behind him.

"Going somewhere?"

Mr. Harrison turned around to face an older man. He was wearing glasses, had a beard... fuck... he kind of looked like his old self. But not entirely. His eyes were different. His nose smaller. Almost as... Oh no.

Mr. Harrison:"Elijah?!"

Elijah:"Since when are you calling your father by his first name? You wanna tell me where you're headed?" He said as he sipped his morning coffee.

Mr. Harrison couldn't believe what he was seeing. His son was now old and he was young. "Beach... I'm heading to... the beach"

Elijah:"Are you ok, young man?"

Mr. Harrison:"Yeah, sorry. I... have to go... I'll be home soon. Bye."

Elijah sipped his coffee again and dialed a phone number.

"Hey. Haha. Yeah, we talked. He's confused. But don't tell him yet. Let him be confused for a while. He doesn't need to know we made a deal. He really deserves being young. Oh and try to get him to experiment. You know, he never got the chance to explore his sexuality when he was young. Ok, great. Have a great day, Jimmy."

Another anonymous story from Inbox 😊

What about a story were a really geeky teacher/professor ends up tutoring a kid and as a reward the teacher/professor is tranformed into a person the kids age.

Screenshots directly form the short f2m body swap movie on YouTube: Soliloquy of Morgan. Check it out :)

[twistedlovelines]

(Waddles in here at 4am like the insomniac I am)

Forgot to mention last ask— I got fired since you were last 'really active', lol.

As a vers switch, I tend bounce between sub & dom thoughts (and lean towards Yuu's circumstances). However, consider the following: being a sugar baby for some of the boys (given that Yuu is broke & most would have more money than them)... only for them to realize that sometimes, the companionship you provide can come in different forms. When y'all started talking about it, you agreed that he would take the lead more. However, after a particularly stressful period of time, you offer em comfort in the form of taking control & getting em fucked out of their minds.

Need to see their eyes rolling back, cheeks damp with tears, drooling as they're unintelligibly mumbling about how "they can't take anymore" even tho he's cum so much already— oh, you're shooting blanks at this point? I guess we can take a break. You did so good, sweetheart.

—🐈‍⬛

!! i hope you're doing ok babe :(( hopefully u can rest in the meantime, but ik the job markets Rough rn

wc: 850-ish

tags: (gn! reader, nsfw, mdni, overstimulation, sub! Azul, “baby” used for Azul)

yessss i can see this happening with azul in particular!!! after all, he has his needs but. not really the desire nor time to start up a proper relationship. besides, how could he resist such a tempting opportunity sitting in front of him? the ramshackle prefect, with little to nothing to their name but that broken down dorm, their cat, and the clothes on their back...of course he wants to help you! he's a businessman through and through, and letting such a precious opportunity go would be a waste.

he's seen the way you look at him, the flicker of desire in your gaze as your eyes skirt over his figure. assessing him.

he asks you to give him hand jobs first. nothing fancy- just a way for him to get work done faster when he's holed up in his office late at night. its nice, he thinks, when you neatly clean yourself up before leaving without him even needing to say a word.

its different, tonight.

He's been in his office more than his bedroom as of late, despite his dedication to sleeping properly (business cannot prosper on a weary mind, after all). Yet a recent lack of revenue (due to the nature of the first years being less competent than last years') has forced him to manage the fallout himself.

It's unbecoming of him. His blazer has been haphazardly thrown over a guest chair, and his hair's gone askew, his hands having run through them in an attempt to self-soothe.

Still, Azul's never been great at soothing himself.

It's Jade who calls you. Politely asks you to attend to Azul since he seems to be too busy to call you himself. Says a break might do him some good- something to get things off his mind.

You agree easily once he mentions giving you a bonus on top of what Azul usually pays you: a favor.

It's suspicious, but you take it anyways. Favors from Jade of all people are rare, and what he's asking for isn't exactly demanding. Azul's not exactly difficult to please.

Not when it comes to your touch.

You slip in easily enough, the spare key Azul had given you coming in handy. He doesn't seem to notice your presence at first, mumbling something along the lines of putting any papers in the guest chair. With a fond sigh, you make your way to drape yourself over the back of his chair. 

"Aw, have you been working too much? Poor thing," you coo. 

He jolts up in surprise, face snapping to yours as his eyes widen. His hair, having fallen from his signature appearance, moves easily as you brush it aside to place a kiss on his forehead. Azul melts under the soft touch, but freezes a second later.

“Did Jade call you?”

“Maybe.” 

Without skipping a beat, you move to settle in his lap, running your hands down his arms to settle them around your waist. 

“Still, it’s been a while since you’ve called me. I’ve missed you, you know,” you purr, loosening his tie. 

“I’ve been- ah- busy,” he retorts breathily. The pressure of your lower half gently grinding against his own is delicious, but with how busy he’s been, he’s far more sensitive than usual.

“Since when are you not?” 

He feels your mouth smile against his throat as you pepper love bites along the pale skin. The heat of your skin is delightful under his fingers, and he moves them under your shirt to skim along the curve of your spine.

A soft moan escapes him as you roll your hips against his with a particular force, blunt nails digging into the fat of your hips instinctively. 

“Already close, Azul?” You tease, nipping the lobe of his ear.

This is your favorite part of having sex with Azul, you think.

He huffs, turning his head to the side. A pretty blush has bloomed across his cheeks, the color complimenting his silvery lashes. His bottom lip is swollen from his efforts to stifle his moans- despite his office being thoroughly soundproof. You cup his cheek with affection and sigh as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking comfort on the edge of his release. 

“That’s alright baby, you can cum.”

A peek of tongue flashes out of his mouth at your words, and desire curls hot in your gut as you watch him lick at your palm in an attempt at self-soothing, hips rutting unsteadily against yours. 

You let him continue like that for a moment before withdrawing your hand and kissing him properly, shushing his whines. 

"Oh? Still have some tension in you, Azul? Maybe cumming a few more times will help with that.” He shivers at your words, baring his neck to you as you lave your tongue over a hickey you had left on his neck. Only an incoherent mumble makes it through his lips, but its damning all the same.

“Good.”

~

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[apas-95]

I’m an anarchocommunist that thinks a lot of other anarchists are stupid. For example, I don’t think that most people will just make insulin or do garbage collection/processing out of the kindness of their heart, and I also don’t think if it was genuinely done out of the kindness of their hearts that it’d work great. My idea is that for the “getting people to do the shitty jobs” question, the people that do those jobs should be compensated better in some way. Maybe a larger/nicer house, I’m not sure on the details. But other anarchists will say “all labor is equal”, and while I’d like to agree in the “work is hard” sense, I think things for the obvious common good, like teacher or garbage man or doctor deserve some sort of reward over other jobs. And for the efficiency of the labor, I think *specifically for labor* there needs to be some sort of organization, and we can use what’s worked before. We don’t need to have bathtub insulin if there’s a factory right there, and if there’s no connection from the insulin factory to doctors/pharmacists and truck drivers then it won’t work either. Really, my main problem with Marxism/Leninism or Stalinism or Maoism or any combination of those is that there are specific people with far too much power over others. I’m ok with light power in the way of “man you gotta drive the firetruck to the burning building even though you hate the dude that lives there”, but I’m not ok with the idea of a supreme leader or representatives in a political sense due to as I’ve amounts of power obviously corrupting people.

Really I’m sending this to you to get your criticism of my ideas- I think you’re pretty smart, and even if I disagree with you on some issues, I think I agree with you on others. I also want to say that not all anarchists are… like that.

So, years ago, before I started reading any Marxist theory, this is about where I was at politically. If you think about any of the practicalities, you come up to points where, very clearly, the maxim of 'no authority at all' conflicts with being able to do anything. If you're seriously considering how society could be better organised, if this is something you actually intend on bringing about, then you make some amount of concession to reality - as you did with the firetruck example!

Now, myself, I went on like this for a good while, coming up with methods of truly democratic organisation that wouldn't be susceptible to the types of totalitarianism I'd heard about, ending up very similar to your position. I was interested, however, in how these 'failed experiments' that I'd learned devolved into bureaucracy started out, and I started reading up on the history, and realised, with some discontent, that what I'd developed, once I'd made all the concessions for reality that would be necessary if this system were to be the actual one real human beings lives depended on, was essentially identical to the Soviet system.

From there, I read up on Marxist theory, still basically wary that this had all, at some point, been taken over by an evil dictator, but able to see that the earliest stages, at least, had been exactly what I was imagining, but put into practice. Reading the theory, reading how their experience experimenting with different forms of organisation, and the failures of some types, had led them to discover what did and didn't work, and adjust accordingly, made me suddenly appreciate why certain things were done certain ways. The harsh experiences of civil war had revealed certain dynamics and mechanics in the way society and production worked, which translates into political theories that bore out results I wouldn't have expected (and neither had the communists who had discovered them through practice!).

Eventually, with some chagrin and a significant deal of excitement, I realised that much of what I'd passively absorbed about socialism, many of the common-sense maxims that I'd been taught by capitalist society about the nature of power and so on, were very much artifacts of a decades-long war against these communists and the system they'd built, carried out by exactly the corporations and empires I had thought myself opposed to.

I won't critique any individual point of yours, but I will enjoin you to try out some Marxist theory - Dialectical and Historical Materialism, or Socialism, Utopian and Scientific, or Principles of Communism, or even the Communist Manifesto, and to read between the lines of whatever capitalist source you read on socialism, to notice every [citation needed] and wonder what actually happened such that someone felt the need to make something up.

[deansapplepie]

Period .

Summary: The one time you were glad you had your period, and the one time you weren’t.

Warnings: young Daryl (just in the first part), mentions of pregnancy, period, blood, sexual themes, mentions of creampie, mentions of impregnating, little angsty in the end. Minors do not Interact, 18+.

A/N: it was supposed to be a small drabble, but it turned out longer than I imagined. 🤭 Period is something important in the story, but the main focus is really about pregnancy.

Also, there’s no smut just little thoughts of Daryl.

The Quarry, Atlanta

You were fucked you knew you were, but so was Daryl and that was the problem. You had been dating for only a few months before the outbreak and even though your relationship was new, you knew his temper pretty well being neighbors for many years.

Your period was late, it already was when the world ended, but just a few days, so you didn’t worry about it. Now, it had been almost a month and you were worried as fuck. You tried to fake normalcy, pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. But your constant lip biting and unquiet legs denounced to the hunter how nervous you were. “Spill it.” He said.

“What?” He took you by surprise, you were so into in your mind that you didn’t even know he had been observing for the last half hour.

“There’s somethin’ worrying ya. Just say it.” He didn’t take his eyes from you as he waited for you ti say something.

“My period. It’s late. I’m worried.” You threw averting his eyes.

In his mind a million of thoughts were running, but mainly 1. why did you have to feel so amazing wrapped around him that sometimes he couldn’t just control himself and just finish inside of you? 2. why did he still used no condoms? 3. he couldn’t be a father, he didn’t have this ability.

“Just that?” He asked nonchalantly pretending it didn’t affect him. “Want me to go to town and pick a pregnancy test?”

You looked at him amused. How could he be so calm when you were panicking? Part of you were glad he wasn’t fuming in rage like you imagined he would be, but the other part was frustrated with him acting like it was nothing. “Seriously?” You gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t need to. Let’s wait a little more.” You got up and left to the lake, frustrated, fuming and just needing to calm yourself down.

Days passed and nothing happened. Until the day Daryl woke up tired of not knowing if he would have to raise a child in this fucked up world or not. When you woke up he was already brewing something on the fire, Merle with him. “I’m going to town. Want something?” He asked.

“What are you going to do in town?” You didn’t understand, you had everything. Food and hygiene supplies, what else could you need?

“I’m gonna get the thing. We already waited too much.” He seemed nervous, finally one small demonstration of feelings.

“Are ya two gonna talk in codes now?” Merle complained feeling left out.

You ignored him and replied Daryl. “Ok. Just let me go the bathroom, gonna think if we need anything else.” You left in the direction of the RV, not everyone used it, but most of you. Especially the women and the kids, Daryl and Merle preferred to go into the woods as to not get the dirty looks everyone gave them, but you were different, you were polite and would smile sometimes. Also, you got along well with Dale and the women in the camp.

You distributed ‘good mornings’ along the way and when you got to the RV you encountered Dale, Ami and Andrea having breakfast. You greeted them and excused yourself to the bathroom, and there it was… your answer. No test needed. A pool of blood on your panties. You felt wet earlier, but the last weeks you felt it many times and it was always nothing, so you didn’t mind. You were relieved. The world was pure chaos and you couldn’t imagine raising a child in it. Yet, there was an uneasy feeling inside of you.

You went back to your tent and the small fire the brothers had done. “You don’t need to go.” It was as the only thing you said.

“Ugh?” He grunted confused.

“I’m on my period.” You said, and fuck if Merle was listening.

“Were ya talking in codes because ya thought you were pregnant?” Merle almost yelled. “And you were hiding it from me? The uncle?”

“Shut up Merle, nobody needs to know, and stop complaining about an inexistent baby.” You answered mood swinging immediately. There it was, you had seen the signals, you just didn’t want to read them.

Daryl stayed silent while you went inside the tent to take clean panties, pads or tampons to change. When you came out Daryl was the same way he was before, millions of thoughts inside his head.

“Are you going to say something or are you going to pretend there wasn’t anything going on just like when I told you my worries?” You snapped, the last days you had thought over and over again about his non reaction the day you told him, and that’s not that you wanted him to have fought or screamed at you, you didn’t, but you wanted him to share his worries with you and to be able to share yours with him.

“What do ya want me to say?” He asked, dryly. “Thank God? ‘Cause I don’t believe in one. Or do you want me to say I feel really sorry ‘cause we’re not putting a child in this fucked up world?” He had snapped. You were angry at him, but at least it was a reaction of some sort.

“You’re an asshole.” You threw at him and left, he thought about retorting you with a sassy answer, but he bit his tongue.

“Ya messed bad, lil bro… ya know nothing about women. How was ya able to catch a girl like her?” Merle couldn’t contain his mouth and spoke.

“Shut up, Merle! Mind your own business!” He replied, taking his things and living grumpily.

Later that day he returned with chocolate and painkillers, which he left on your side of the sleeping bed without saying anything.

Alexandria, Virginia

You were out in the woods, close to Alexandria. You had been hunting with Daryl, your husband. Yes, your husband. So many things have changed along the years, that some times you couldn’t believe how things were different. But one thing hadn’t change, you were still reckless about sex, not that you had options to prevent a pregnancy in the end of the world.

And that was the reason you were distracted while you hunted, also the reason you were not being silent like he taught you to be and were cracking every and all stick on the way. “Wha’s the problem, sweetheart?” He stopped and turned to you.

Distracted, you continued to walk and bumped into him. “Sorry.” You looked up at him and saw concern in his eyes.

“What’s troubling ya?” He asked his hands resting on your shoulders. “And don’t try to lie, I know ya.”

You sighed. “I’m late.” You’ve been late many times during the time you and Daryl have been together, but most of the times your worries would be taken away as soon as they started to build. But that time at the quarry and now, it had been a long time.

Now he already knew what you meant, and it didn’t worry him this much anymore. To be honest, he even thought about impregnating you during the last years. It all started when his Lil Ass Kicker was born, and then how he saw you taking care of her and interacting with kids. So… he considered having kids with you many times.

“Just that?” He threw the same question back at that day in the quarry. Anger started bubbling in you and then he just stroke you with his words. “Ya shouldn’t worry. If it happens, we’ll take responsibility and do our best. It’s our baby we’re talking about.”

“Daryl… aren’t you mad? Or worried?” You looked at him disarmed now that you realized he wasn’t going to be a dick.

“If ya’re expecting, I helped making this baby and I dun think it would be so terrible the idea of having a baby made of us.” Yeah, you had all changed a lot. You didn’t know one day you could desire him even more, but just the thought of him thinking it wouldn’t be bad to have babies with you… made you want to jump on him.

“Should we grab a pregnancy test with Denise or something?” You suggested grabbing one of his hands.

“Let’s wait a little more and I take them.” He started to walk and intertwined your fingers. “Now, let’s hunt dinner.”

Daryl had finally gone on a run to find some pregnancy tests, Denise unfortunately had none. When he arrived he hoped to see you in the kitchen with Carol, but his friend was alone. She saw his confused face and she knew he was looking for you. “She’s at the bedroom. She arrived and a little while after… she didn’t look well. I think you should see her.” Carol advised him. She knew there was something upsetting you and she was almost sure of what it was, but you had said nothing to her, so she decided it was better to not push.

“Thanks, ‘m gonna check on her.” He said before he left to your shared bedroom.

After he descended the stairs to your room in the basement, he found you on bed laying on your side. He kicked his shoes off before joining you in bed. “Hey babe”

“Hey” you replied and didn’t turn to look at him.

He laid on his side, spooning you and sneaking his arm around you. He rested his hand on your lower stomach, an habit he had developed recently. He’d do it when you got your period and felt cramps, but in the last days he had done it for another reason. “Can you take your hand from there?” You asked.

“Why? Don’t ya wanna me to touch ya?” He wanted to understand what was troubling your mind.

“There’s nothing there. Just my uterus. My stupid bleeding uterus.” Here it was. He wouldn’t deny he was a little upset, he had some hope on you being pregnant. He was even excited.

“Ok. Look at me.” He turned you so you’d be facing him. You had teary eyes and a small pout on your lips. “You wanted this baby, didn’t ya?”

“Is it this obvious?” Yes, it was. It was visible on your face.

“I wanted it too.” He confessed, his fingers running on your hair.

“I’ve been wanting for a long time already… since Jude was born and I saw her in your arms. When I have Jude in my arms or little Hershel, I wish I had a baby.” While you spoke, your eyes welled with tears and they started falling.

He gently wiped your tears, he could understand your feelings in his own way, because he felt them too. “Me too. When I see you with the kids, I wish we had one.” ‘And to put a baby inside of you’, completed in his mind. “Do ya want me to give you a baby?”

Your eyes sparkled at his words, and it wasn’t just because of the tears threatening to fall again. “Would you?” You looked in his eyes and he felt like you could see his soul. But, yes… you could. You could always see him, even when he couldn’t.

“As many as ya want.” He said and the tears you were holding just bursted from your eyes. “Stop crying, I didn’t say it so you’d cry. If you continue to cry, I’m not giving ya babies…”

“Don’t you dare Daryl Dixon! I’m crying because I’m happy, ok?” You cupped his face with your hands, making a pout appear on his face.

“Ok.” He spoke the best he could with your hands cupping his face and restraining his lips from moving. You kissed his lips and released his face.

He brought you closer and hugged you, your face hiding on his chest. He was happy. You weren’t feeling like shit anymore, you were feeling like the luckiest woman in the damn end of the world.

You were trying for babies as soon as possible. That was what he thought, a smile on his face while he held you in his arms.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

[butmakeitgayblog]

Hi )

I read your takes on Clexa and I am fangirling at how accurate I think they are. So I would really like to hear your thoughts on something, if you don't mins.

Imagine if accursed 307 went a little bit different at the end and Titus' aim was a bit surer and he got his target. So Lexa heard a commotion and went to investigate, she opens doors only to see Clarke's shocked face. Followed by Clarke's limp body fall into her arms. There is a lot of blood, Clarke is unresponsive and there is Titus, 10 feet away with a smoking gun.

What would be Lexa thoughts, emotions?

What will she do next, considering current political situation?

What do you think she will be doing if the wound is fatal?

Oof

Well 1. Thank you 🥹

And 2.

I think Lexa's initial reaction would've been complete shock and terror. That's what it was when she heard the shots from her room and you know that because rather than reaching for a weapon or armor or calling for her guard, she disregarded all of her training and all of her knowledge of power, and simply had to get to Clarke as fast as possible.

Heart pounding, terror stricken, she just had to get to Clarke.

And I don't think her initial reaction would've been any different if she had stumbled upon a wounded Clarke in thah room.

But that only would've been an instantaneous response that was then shed away, because she is so used to reacting on her feet. The gunshots posed an unknown threat, so admittedly it got the best of her (actually shitty writing got the best of her because she absolutely would not have done that but hahahhaha anyway 😒). But blood? Pain? She knows those intimately. She knows what to do with that. She's been in innumerable battles and delt with injuries and gore and so on from such a young age, and everything we ever saw of her showed that even when she was startled, her brain was always going at the speed of lightning. While everyone around her is still accessing a situation, she's already taken it all in and is mentally 10 miles down the road in terms of what she's going to do.

With that in mind, I think Lexa's next reaction would be to tend to Clarke, plain and simple. It would've been the instinctual thing she did - reach for her, run to her, scoop her up and be there to comfort just as she always did whenever she felt Clarke needed her. She would've shouted not only for Titus to get a healer, but also she probably would've bellowed for anyone within earshot to find a healer while she herself administered first aid (ya know more than just pouring water on it dO YOU HEAR ME TALKING CLARKE DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME)

*deep breath*

..... Anyway....

Emotionally speaking?

I think it would've probably been the most terror stricken she's ever felt in her life.

Because she can accept her own death. In fact has accepted the reality of it since she was first called. She has overcome the loss of her people, the potential loss of her power. Lost her own innocence and her first love. Has overcome the pain of having to take the life of her most trusted ally by her own hand and pretend it didn't bother her at all.

But I think the chaos of that moment would've kind of snapped everything into focus. Because while it's one thing to accept the danger in the abstract idea of sending Clarke back to Arkadia with a sweet kiss on her lips and a prayer that she'll be ok so that one day they'll meet again, it's another horror entirely feeling the warm finality of her death seeping out of a bullet wound and onto her hands.

Losing another lover? One she loves deeper than she ever thought possible? Her equal in every regard?

I just think she would have felt the most scared she'd ever been in her life. The most desperate. The most powerless...

As for what she'd do next, I don't think whether Clarke lived or died would've changed anything in respect to Titus.

I think she would've killed him.

Whether in that room or in a public execution, either way he would've died by her hand for personal reasons and political reasons, and I think rightfully so on both accounts, because consider how it would make her look in the eyes of her people.

He not only directly disobeyed her orders and went rogue with his own plans, he made an attempt on a clan ambassador's life without order or tangible justification. Lexa had not only publicly vowed that Clarke would be under her protection while in Polis, but she gave orders that they had until sundown to be back at Arkadia.

And he just said fuck it, fuck you, Imma do what I want.

In him doing that, he would've made Lexa not only look weak, but also look as though she wasn't even in control of her own direct subordinates. If someone as heralded and protected and trusted by the throne as the Fleimkepa can get away with subverting Lexa's rule... why should anyone else bother listening to her? Why shouldn't anyone else make attempts on any life they so wish? He would have effectively undermined every single thing she and her unified rule over the coalition stood for.

And on top of everything, Clarke is not just anyone.

She is Wanheda.

If Clarke died and Lexa didn't kill Titus, then that would indicate that Titus now has power over death. That coupled with him blatantly usurping Lexa's command? Uhhhhh. No. Can't let that stand. Not for a single second.

If Clarke lived and she didn't kill Titus, then that would indicate that anything Lexa says is free for challenge because she obviously does not follow through with consequences for direct crimes. Clarke's life is now even more free for the taking to any who should be so bold. The kongeda means nothing because Lexa's power is no longer absolute. Obviously, she can't let that stand either.

So really that bald bitch signed his own death warrant the second he picked up that gun, no matter the outcome. But also, no matter the outcome, for every bit he spewed his bullshit about Clarke weakening Heda, those actions alone would've severely hurt her image on the political stage regardless of the fine details.

Because now she's open to even more murmurings of deferential treatment to Clarke, specifically, but also to the Skaikru as a whole by sheer association. Her allegiance to the coalition vs Clarke and Co. would be questioned and antagonized and tested at every turn (more than it already was.)

Inevitably it all would've been a clusterfuck, and civil war on Lexa and the coalition would've become inevitable I think.

And frankly????

That would've been A Lot more interesting to watch than the slop that they gave us 🙄