#you have food and water and endless attention

[grimfigment]

sorry everyone i gotta go. my cat said it's my bedtime but i'll see you all tomorrow!

[rebelfell]

bells will be ringing

crush!steve harrington x fem!reader x fwb!eddie munson

The annual Harrington Christmas Party is an elegant affair, complete with decorations, fancy food and flowing libations. But when your friend-slash-fuck buddy Eddie tires of you and Steve dancing around your burgeoning feelings for one another…he offers a creative solution.

Part One┃Part Two

18+, MDNI 8k

cw: MMF, allusions to poverty and implied family strife, light alcohol and weed use, kinda mean/crass Eddie, semi-public fingering/oral (f receiving), r’s hair gets pulled once.

The Harrington’s were white light people.

There wasn’t a single inch of their stately home not adorned in festive finery for their annual Christmas party. It was all silver candlesticks with cream-colored tapers, deep red ribbons tied into bows and hung at perfectly spaced intervals, long garlands of rich greenery draped along the banisters—real as shit and smelling like a goddamn pine forest.

It was a far cry from what you and Eddie knew growing up next door to one another way on the other side of town. For you two, it was scrawny and half-dead trees purchased at a discount as close to Christmas as possible when their vendors were just trying to unload them, covered in a hodgepodge of homemade ornaments and faded multicolored lights, only about half of which worked half the time. When your families could afford a tree, that was.

The Harringtons’ own stood at the far end of the house, glowing bright as a nuclear reactor with seemingly endless strands of bright white lights wound around its branches. It was methodically decorated with matching red, silver and gold baubles, each one hung precisely in place and polished to gleaming perfection. 

Elegant. Proper. Pristine.

The party was already well underway by the time you arrived, Steve nowhere to be found in the sea of people. They all stood together in clumps, exchanging jovial smiles that pushed up rosy cheeks, the women cooing over each other's outfits and jewelry while the men swapped stories about their quarterly earnings. Weaving through the throngs, cater waiters floated past carrying trays loaded with hors d’oeuvres and tall glasses of shimmery, bubbly liquid.

It made you and Eddie glance around, furtive and unsure as you skulked into the foyer. The two of you might as well have been invisible for all the attention anyone paid you.

“See Steve anywhere?” you asked, peering deeper inside the house.

The former stud of Hawkins High had always been easy to spot in the hallways of his former domain, seemingly towering over everyone even after he stopped sporting that gravity-defying bouffant hairstyle. Those days were long gone now, but an occasional glimmer of his old self would still shine through, reminding you of when King Steve reigned supreme.

“Nope, nowhere,” Eddie grumbled. “I told you this was a mistake.”

His warm breath on your ear as he leaned in to whisper in it had your head snapping to the  side. Some of the snow that had just started to fall outside dusted his dark, unruly curls and he still had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as though he wanted to be ready to turn heel and run at the first opportunity. You’d seen him look more relaxed about to shoplift.

“What do you mean?” 

“Look around, sweetheart. See if you can spot what doesn’t belong.”

It was kind of irritating how right he was. Everyone else in attendance tonight looked perfectly at home in this pretty picture. It was all business partners and their wives, clients who probably made more in a year than you or Eddie would hope to see in your entire lifetime, other miscellaneous friends and fellow members of the Hawkins upper echelon.

To call you fish out of water would be putting it lightly. You were like fish on a space station.

“What were we supposed to do?” you whispered back. “We had to come.”

That was debatable. Steve had invited you, yes, but he also practically tripped over himself to assure you it was totally fine if you couldn’t make it. He’d sat on the edge of Eddie’s sofa running through all his most blatant tells—hands pushing through his hair, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, foot jiggling non-stop—as he told you about the party.

“It’s all my parents' friends, so it might be kind of lame. But I’m allowed to invite people if you guys want to come. It’d be really great to see you.”

He’d worked himself up into such a state, it almost felt cruel to say no. You weren’t sure what it was—something about the earnestness with which he asked, and the way his eyes shone so hopefully when you smiled and told him you thought it sounded like fun.

Eddie’s gruff voice sounded in your ear again.

“Think we’re just here to piss off daddy?”

You followed his eyeline to the living room, gaze promptly drawn to the imposing frame of John Harrington as he reached out to grip the hand of someone important. Or at least someone who seemed to think they were. Even never having seen or met him before, he was easy to pick out as Steve’s father. They had the same square jaw, the same perfectly angled nose and rich, light brown hair. Although, John’s was cut shorter and tamed into a much more manageable style than his son’s long locks that lived in a near-constant state of tousled messiness.

“Steve wouldn’t do that,” you said firmly. “He asked us to come because we’re his friends.”

The words still felt strange to say. It made you wonder, yet again, if it would ever stop feeling so surreal that you now hung out with Steve “The Hair” Harrington on an almost daily basis.

When you were in school together, you never even landed on his radar. Eddie had some notoriety as the town’s supposed demon summoner, but you were just…around. A plain face that blended into the crowd; a background extra with no lines in the scene; wallpaper and set dressing for the popular kids who were living out their exemplary lives.

If this was only a few years prior, he probably would be spending this evening sneaking drinks with Tommy H. and Carol, or parading around with Nancy Wheeler on his arm to show her off to all his dad’s colleagues and brag about her getting into Emerson. Instead, his falling out with all of them and his subsequent fall from his high-school throne had led him here—to an unlikely friendship with The Freak and The Invisible Girl.

Whenever he came over to Eddie’s to smoke, or you three piled into his car to go to the movies or drive the winding back roads that snaked along the edge of town, it almost felt natural. And the more time you spent with him, the harder and harder it became to remember why he’d always seemed so…untouchable.

“So, what should we do?” You wondered aloud as you glanced around again, still hoping Steve might materialize somehow. Behind you, Eddie’s head shook and his shoulders shrugged.

“How should I know? You were the one begging to come tonight.”

“I wasn’t begging.”

“Oh, really?” He scoffed as he leaned in close again, raising the pitch of his voice in an overly breathy imitation of you. “Please, Eddie? Please, can we go to the party? I’ll let you eat me out from the back if you—”

“Stifle,” you hissed, jamming your elbow into his stomach.

He grunted at the sharp jab, but his lips remained curled in a sly smirk. “What’s wrong? Worried your little crush will find out what I’ve been doing to you after he goes home?”

“I don’t care if he knows,” you sniped. It’s almost convincing, but the flash of alarm in your eyes told a different story. Not that it mattered, Eddie didn’t buy it for a second anyway.

“Well, that’s good,” he tutted. “Because he already knows we’ve fucked.”

“Wait, what?” You whirled around fully now. “How?”

“He, ahh…” Eddie fought to contain his grin as he scratched at the short stubble on his cheek. “He saw that picture you let me take.”

Your eyes went wide, both horrified and enraged as you shoved his shoulder—hard. 

“You showed it to him?”

“No, he found it,” Eddie hissed. “We were looking around for some weed I had stashed and he happened to open the drawer it was in.”

Your whole body—your very being—surged with white hot shame. If it wouldn’t have given Eddie so much satisfaction, you might have run straight out of the party right then and there. The thought of Steve seeing you like that…

It was almost unbearable.

The details of you and Eddie’s attachment had always been strictly under wraps. You weren’t exactly keeping it a secret, per se, but most people weren’t super accepting of the idea and you’d learned to play it close to the vest. And with how much time the two of you had started spending with Steve, you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.

It had been going on for ages. Pausing, albeit briefly, if one of you found yourself in a relationship, and picking right back up when said relationship inevitably fizzled or if it tipped into the dangerous territory of getting too serious. He was one of the few people in your life you trusted intrinsically, and it wasn’t like guys were banging down your door as it was.

The picture was a one-time thing—a polaroid you’d let Eddie snap as a belated birthday present because you’d been too busy to find him something real.  You had made him swear upon pain of death it was for his eyes only. And now he’d shown it to the last person on earth you wanted to see it? Oh, you were going to garrotte him with tinsel in his sleep.

Also, Steve wasn’t your crush. He was…a preoccupation. A distraction. A vague interest.

You couldn’t even say for sure when it had begun. All you knew was just last spring, there was a month of Friday evenings where you found yourself back in the Hawkins High parking lot pulled in alongside Steve’s distinctive maroon beemer. He was leaning on the hood, waiting for Hellfire to let out so he could drive home his little horde of nuggets, and you had shown up acting as Eddie’s ride while his van was out of commission.

And that night, for the first time ever, you had a real conversation with Steve Harrington.

A fairly illuminating one, at that.

There was a sweetness to him you never would have guessed was there. And a dorkiness that brought light to his eyes when he did his elaborate handshake with Dustin Henderson, or the way he exalted along with the kids when the group burst through the double doors leading out of the school, whooping and cheering from a successful campaign. It warmed your whole body from the inside out, the feeling only growing stronger the more time you shared.

And now he’d seen your bare tits covered in Eddies cum. Perfect, just perfect.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s so humiliating.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I think he kinda liked it.”

“He…he did?”

“I mean, he was staring at it pretty hard. I think he needed some alone time with it.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder another shove for good measure, muttering a you're disgusting at him under your breath, hoping it would hide the nerves creeping across your face. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add fuel to Eddie’s fire. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gritty rasp in your ear that made shivers run down your spine.

“So you don’t wanna know what he said, then?”

Tension seized your shoulders as you glared at him, jaw clenched, ready to spit back a vicious comment—or maybe just spit—only to stop short at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you made it!”

Steve was beaming as he came over, his bright hazel eyes shining, the golden flecks in them brought out by the color of his sweater. He drew you into his embrace, his strong arms curling securely around your body and his gourmand scent filling your nose as you breathed him in.

Your hands smoothed over the planes of his back, relishing in the softness of the knit he wore and the solidity of his broad chest pressed against yours. Your pulse quickened, blood pounding in your ears as you did your level best to force what Eddie had just told you out of your head.

“I’m the coat check tonight,” Steve explained, tipping an imaginary cap. “There’s a guest room upstairs we can put them in.”

“I gotta take a leak,” Eddie said, already shrugging off his leather jacket and pushing it into your arms. “Take care of that for me, will you sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Eddie just grinned back at you with a suggestive bounce of his brows behind his curled bangs. Steve pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then turned straight back to you as he tilted his head upstairs.

“Shall we?” he asked.

The sounds of the party became distant and muffled as Steve led you upstairs to the designated dumping ground for all the furs and wraps of the numerous guests. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight that streamed through the window and the warm glow of the lights strung on the outside of the house that cast across the heap of coats on the bed.

You laid Eddie’s jacket down on a chair in the corner before you began to undo the belt of your own tied around your waist. As the thick, gray poly-blend slid off your shoulders, you shivered at the cool air hitting your heated skin for the first time that night.

When you turned back around, Steve was much closer than you remembered. 

His eyes studied you with a kind of reverence that made your body tingle with excitement in a way you didn’t dare to name. The way he looked at you sometimes…whether it through a haze of pot smoke in Eddie’s trailer, or in the flickering light of a screen at the multiplex, or beneath the harsh amber wash of a single streetlight in an empty parking lot…

It made you wonder.

“You look really nice,” he finally said, his voice as soft as his eyes.

The dress you’d worn was fairly simple, made of maroon velour with a burnout pattern of leaves you thought looked a bit like holly. It was loose and flowy, but had laces in the back you had pulled tight so it cinched in your waist and pushed up your chest, not unlike a corset. The neckline was just low enough to flirt with impropriety and it nicely complimented the length of the pendant that sat in the center of your clavicle.

A dainty (fake) gold snowflake you thought was festive.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice even softer than his as you folded your arms in front of your stomach. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of nice outfits.”

Steve shook his head, captivated eyes still scanning over you. They landed briefly on your legs, the black stockings you’d worn in an attempt to stave off the cold now prickling warm on your skin as if it was his hands running over them instead of just his gaze.

“You always look perfect,” he said.

It’s not just the words that made you falter, but the plainness with which he states them. As if it’s something obvious. As though he thinks it all the time and he just happened to say it this time. It makes your stomach twirl and all at once, you feel like an empty-headed teenager standing at her locker, dizzy from being complimented by the cutest boy in school.

“So, this is quite a spectacle,” you chuckled, glad for the dimness of the room that somewhat hid your reaction to him. “Are there any poinsettias left in Hawkins?”

Steve smirked and took a careful step forward. There was only about a foot of space between you now, if that. “I think if there were, my mom would already have a guy on it,” he said.

Your eyes met his and you shared a soft laugh. “Well, it’s really beautiful,” you sighed. “It must have taken her ages to do all this.”

“Not really,” Steve chuckled. “She has, like, a whole team that comes in and puts it all together.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Your gaze dropped and you gave a regretful shake of your head. Rich people stuff, you thought a bit bitterly. No wonder that hadn’t occurred to you. “But…you must decorate the tree together, at least. Right?”

“No, they do that too. I’ve, uh…I’ve never actually never decorated a tree for Christmas. I kind of thought that was just something they did in movies.”

He huffed out a laugh, trying to hide the sadness that had started to pollute his smile, and rubbed the back of his head, tugging at the hair there that curled along the nape of his neck.

All you could do was stare.

You thought about that gleaming, twelve-foot behemoth downstairs with its dazzling lights and ornaments all spaced and hung so perfectly. It was stunning—looked like something straight out of a magazine. But now it was tinged with something hollow and unsatisfactory. 

Cold. Fake. Empty.

It was you who stepped closer this time, the muscles in your arm tensing as if fighting against your brain’s instructions to reach out and touch him. He was close enough now you could feel the warmth coming off his body and smell the spice of his cologne and the clove cigarette he must have smoked. Your lips trembled, parted slightly, still searching for what to say.

But words refused to come.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Steve soothed, flashing you that easy and charming smile you’d grown to love and loathe in equal measure. “I just meant, like, Christmas really isn’t a big deal to me. And neither is this party, honestly, but…”

He fell silent as his hand reached out to squeeze your elbow, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing gently across your forearm. You stared mutely at his hand where it rested, already dreading how cold it would feel there when he let go of you. Except he didn’t.

“I’m really happy you’re here, though,” he said.

Steve’s chest rose with a sharp inhale and the tip of his tongue swiped along his bottom lip to wet it. His head tilted towards you, a few stray pieces of hair falling into his eyes that were bright and shiny with the string lights around the window reflecting in them. 

It made your own breath catch, praying you weren’t imagining it as he started to lean in.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

You and Steve flew apart like shrapnel, both of you too wrapped up in the steady draw of your bodies together to notice the heavy thump of Eddie’s footsteps in the hall. Steve’s hand came up automatically to run through his hair, dragging up the bottom of his sweater and flashing the briefest glimpse of torso as his arm lifted. It made your mouth dry as a bone.

“I just realized I forgot about my hostess gift,” Eddie said.

His brow cocked at you and yet another little smirk curved along his lips as he brushed past, nudging you ever so subtly back in Steve’s direction. He then started to rifle through the inside pockets of his leather jacket until he exhumed a plastic bag with a few joints inside.

“Got it!” he chimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

The little baggie sailed through the air, crinkling when it hit Steve in the center of his chest. 

“Oh! Thanks, man,” he chuckled, fumbling to catch it. “That’s great.”

Turning it over in his hands, he paused, mulling in silence as he stared down at the joints and glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway. From downstairs, you could now hear the faint tinkling of a piano being played and Eddie noticeably winced at the first few warbled notes of an unrecognizable carol being sung by a particularly drunk chorus.

“You know,” Steve said slowly. “We could bail on the party. Take this out to the pool house?”

As soon as he asked, his eyes darted up to meet yours—interrupting your intense study of the side of his face. Round and hopeful, they shone with his earnestness and you felt dizzy all over again. It made your brain scramble, trying to act like you weren’t just consumed by thoughts of what might or might not have been about to happen. You smiled.

“What are we waiting for?”

Steve left the lights off in the pool house, not wanting to draw too much attention if someone wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. The three of you made your way out in shifts—you with a plate of decadent treats you’d filled from the long table of desserts, Eddie with one loaded with food he’d swiped from the circulating trays, and Steve with a bottle of champagne he’d snuck out of the kitchen while the caterers were distracted.

The satisfying pop of its opening bounced off the walls that were mostly windows, sounding all the more illicit and clandestine in the darkness. The contents of the bottle fizzed as he held it out, offering you the first swig, and you took it with a nimble grasp.

Bubbly liquid splashed on your tongue and the dry, almost acidic, taste of it surely would have impressed someone with a more refined palette. But it made you wrinkle your nose as you squinted to read the French name scrawled in a loopy script on the shield shaped label.

“Gross, right?” Steve chuckled as you handed the bottle back. “But it gets the job done.”

He took a deep swig, head tipping back and giving you a long, long moment to study his neck as the muscles flexed with his swallow. You stared shamelessly, transfixed by the pairs of moles that sat along the line of his strong jaw, head empty of thoughts except how much better thechampagne would taste if you were licking it from his lips.

Eddie coughed, all loud and fake, drawing both of your eyes to him where he sat on a rattan sofa in the center of the room. He stared at you expectantly as he slouched down further in his seat, his knees spread wide and his arms draped across the back. He’d wasted no time making himself more comfortable, loosening the evergreen tie you’d made him wear and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt he normally only broke out for funerals or the odd court appearance.

“Don’t I get some of that?” he asked with a wry smirk.

Steve hurried to offer him the champagne, wiping away a little dribble of it that had started to trickle down his chin. You followed behind and slotted into a chair adjacent to Eddie’s as Steve handed off the bottle, making your brain short circuit when you saw the way his wide grasp nearly engulfed the entire bottom. It didn’t restart until he settled in the seat next to you.

After taking his sip, Eddie sparked up one of the joints and started it in a rotation along with the champagne. After only a few pulls from each you started to feel the effects, your head getting all light and floaty, your body warming from the blood pumping through you, your skin buzzing from the way your fingers kept brushing Steve’s whenever you passed him the joint or the bottle. 

Or maybe it was from the way his eyes lingered on yours when you did.

Eventually, you dropped out of the rotation and sank back in your chair to gaze up at the house. The whole thing seemed to glow with the warmth of the party within, its windows bright yellow, the lights twinkling on the eaves. And the snowfall had remained soft and steady, dusting everything with a fine layer of white like powdered sugar.

The picture was immaculate, like a life-size snow globe. If Steve’s mother had somehow managed to pay Mother Nature as a decorator, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.

“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie snorted, evidently sharing in your bewilderment. “If all this is just the weekend before, I’m scared to ask what your family does for the main event.”

A deep chuckle bubbled out of his chest as he took a long swig of the rapidly draining bottle. He’d said it mostly as a joke, but Steve’s reaction revealed a nerve had been struck. He began to cough, sputtering out his words as he pulled the smoldering joint from between his lips.

“Oh no, it’s not—they aren’t, uh…they won’t be here.”

His eyes darted to the floor as he shook his head and stammered out his non-answer, wearing that same look on his face you’d seen in the guest room. Half-sad and trying to hide it.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. Steve just shrugged.

“They always go away for Christmas. I think it’s St. Barts this year. Maybe Turks and Caicos? Their flight is sometime tomorrow night.”

“Wait, so…they just leave you here?” you asked. “By yourself?”

Steve shrugged and shook his head again, the move almost reflexive, like flinching away from the sting of alcohol cleaning a fresh wound. “A nanny would stay with me when I was little. But from the time I was old enough…yeah, pretty much.”

You and Eddie’s eyes met, the same unthinkable thought seemingly crossing your minds. You actually felt bad—not just bad, but sad—for Steve Harrington. 

“It’s not so bad, seriously,” he said, all flustered trying to salvage the mood. “I just hang out and watch movies and eat pizza. It’s fun. Honest.”

Despite his attempts, you can’t help but frown as you think what Steve’s Christmas will look like. His big house that was bursting at the seams with people right now being cold and desolate; him sitting all alone at a long dining room table eating leftover appetizers for every meal.

The thought tugged at something buried deep inside you. Something you’d packed away long ago and shoved into the furthest recesses of your mind. A box wrapped and taped and stapled and tied shut and then shoved behind a closet door. It made you turn to look at Eddie and he nodded knowingly, needing no words to know what you wanted him to say.

“You should come over,” he said, speaking so suddenly it came out loud in the tense quiet.

Steve’s head lifted. “What?”

“To me and Wayne’s,” Eddie supplied. “For Christmas Eve. We have dinner together and watch old movies and play games and shit. With this one.”

He jerked his thumb at you and you smiled as Steve’s eyes flitted over to meet your gaze.

“Only because they can’t cook to save their lives,” you said, shooting him a wink that made the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

“It’s not gonna be like this,” Eddie assured. “But it’s something, you know?”

“That, um…” Steve looked down at his lap, his long lashes fluttering as he tried to blink back the beginnings of tears. “That sounds really nice.”

Your hand moved without permission, reaching out to close around his wrist and squeeze. Steve’s head turned, staring at it like he thought he was dreaming. And as your brain suddenly caught up with the action and your body flooded with embarrassment, you started to pull it back only to feel the warmth of his palm covering your hand to hold it in place.

The only sound in the room was yours and Steve’s soft breathing and you swore you could feel the way both of your pulses were racing in time. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you became entranced all over again by his handsome face, the freckles that dotted his tanned skin, hazel eyes that shimmered as he scanned your expression, the deepness of his cupid's bow.

“I, um…I should check in with my mom real quick. You guys, uh…sit tight.”

Steve sputtered out his words as he rose to his feet, leaving your skin cold as he pulled his hands from yours. He looked around, his eyes searching to land on anything besides you or Eddie as he turned and stumbled towards the door. Eddie watched you watch Steve leave, an expression on his face as bemused as it was mocking.

“Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting.”

He shook his head, laughing to himself as he stuffed the last of the appetizers in his mouth. You glared back at him as he chewed and tried not to think about how your hand still burned where the ghost of Steve’s warmth remained.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. If I knew I was gonna have to watch you make googly-eyes at each other all night, I could have stayed home. I get enough of that as it is.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Eddie scoffed. “You are. He is. Just make a move, already.”

It was actually painful rolling your eyes as hard as you did. “Right. Sure. And what kind of move am I supposed to make? Considering how he ran out of here just because I touched his arm?”

“You’re not serious, are you? You’re pulling my dick, right?”

Eddie hunched forward as you deadpanned him, answering with a slow blink of your eyes and humorless expression until he threw his head back in a loud laugh.

“He had a fucking boner, smartass!” he cackled.

It’s not only your cheeks that warm now, but your whole body igniting like a bonfire. The feeling grips your shoulders, it’s talons digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce it to the bone.

“Bullshit,” you whispered, your mind reeling.

“You think I don’t know Steve well enough to know when he goes from six to midnight? It happens literally any time you touch him.”

Eddie was still snickering to himself as he took a final puff of the joint that had been smoked down to a nub. You stared at your hands in your lap, thoughts going into overdrive. Because this wasn’t just some random guy at the Hideout or an ex-classmate hitting on you at a house party. This wouldn’t be just a fumbled touch, grabby hands groping blindly in a dark closet that you would recount to Eddie before he gave you the orgasm you’d sorely been denied.

This was Steve. This would be something. Wouldn’t it?

“Only one way to find out,” Eddie said, as though he could hear the question you were asking yourself. “Anything’s gotta be better than this.”

“But what if he—”

The rattle of the doorknob cut you off, your eyes darted to the door just as Steve pushed it open to slip back inside. Eddie’s dark curls fell forward, sliding off his shoulders as he leaned in.

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.

Your eyes bulged in your skull, but before you could retort or argue, Steve had plopped back down in the chair next to you and your lips were effectively sealed.

“So the singing is still going on,” he chuckled. “But I think everyone will head home soon. We aren’t missing much.”

“That’s okay.” Eddie groaned softly into a stretch as he settled back into his reclined position. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

Heat flooded your core at his insinuating tone and you sat up a little straighter. He let his head loll to the side, his eyes finding yours automatically, dark irises glinting in the scant light.

“Hey…c’mere, doll.”

Eddie shifted down in his seat, rubbing his ringed hand across his thigh as an invitation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the fancy, and surely expensive, champagne you’d been sipping all night. Maybe it was the way Steve’s gaze followed you so intently as you stood and walked over to where Eddie sat on the wicker sofa. Whatever it was, it was working.

You laid your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you kneeled on the cushion next to him and went to straddle his lap. But his hands came up to grip your waist and stopped you.

“Uh-uh,” he said, motioning his index finger in a circle. “Other way.”

You hesitated, glancing from your crouched position over at Steve. His eyes smoldered in the darkness as he watched you—leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his long fingers laced in front of him. With a hard swallow, you stood and turned.

Eddie jerked you back against him, roughly pulling you flush with his chest. His knees pushed between your own and he spread them wide so your legs were held open, draped over the tops of his thighs. It made the skirt of your dress glide upwards, hem skimming the tops of your stockings, threatening to reveal the strips of bare skin between them and your panties.

His words from earlier still rang in your head. Follow my lead.

Well-worn hands splayed wide across your stomach, squeezing at the softness of your waist. Beneath you, his hips began to shift and the beginnings of his hard-on pressed insistently into the fat of your ass. It made you shiver all over, a gasp falling from your lips.

“So well behaved,” Eddie hummed, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips, suddenly gripping your chin in his hand to turn your face towards him. “She’s such a good girl, Stevie…. and we have so much fun together…”

The words and the deep timbre of his voice sent more shivers down your spine as he bumped the tip of your nose with his own. He pecked lightly at your lips until they opened up for him, his tongue probing the warm cavern of your mouth until you were moaning into his kiss.

It was lazy, but punishing. He nipped gently at your top lip, his own feathering with a tiny snarl as he revered back to his conversation with Steve.

“Why don’t you tell her about that photo you found?” he asked, hot breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell her what you thought about it.”

Your gaze flashed to Steve’s and you wondered if there was more light in here whether you’d be able to see a rush of scarlet covering his cheeks. His eyes had gone round with nervous energy, but they remained locked onto yours as he spoke.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he rasped, his voice almost cracking his throat was so tight. “I wish I could see it again, I…I wish it was me she’d done that for.”

The pit of your belly burned at his words, a breathy sigh fluttering in your chest and an exquisite ache now radiating between your legs. Eddie’s fingers trailed along the center of your body, over your sternum, tracing the dip of your navel through your dress until it quivered under his touch.

Slowly, he drew up the bottom of your dress like a curtain to reveal your core and the black lace your arousal had begun to seep through. The tips of his fingers stroked your entrance, mercilessly teasing your second set of lips.

“You wouldn’t believe how good she feels, Steve,” Eddie husked, his fingers holding their pace, making you grind into his lap. “Way better than that prissy cheerleader pussy you’re used to.”

The room filled with the sound of your breath and the wet schlick of Eddie’s fingers in your folds.

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie snickered. “I should say honor society pussy.”

Steve’s nostrils suddenly flared, his gaze tearing away from you and your body as if coming out of a trance. You looked back over your shoulder with a horrified look.

“Eddie—”

“Shush,” he snapped, cutting you off by plunging his fingers inside of you. They hooked upwards and your back bowed at the sudden stretch, a broken moan slipping past your lips. Steve’s eyes were drawn to your face at the sound, Eddie’s mention of his ex flying right out of his head.

“You want a taste, Harrington?” he asked, all dark and leading.

A little whimper escaped you at the thought and Eddie grinned wickedly. He smiled as he kissed the back of your neck, his teeth flashing as he nipped at your racing pulse.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You’d like his tongue?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, your eyes darting to find Steve’s. “Please.”

At your plaintive mewl, the very moment you asked, Steve instantly rose to his feet and hurried to kneel between yours and Eddie’s spread legs. His long fingers wrapped around the gusset of your underwear and he wrenched them to the side to reveal your dripping core.

He licked his lips as he stared at it, practically salivating. Your own lips trembled, fighting back the urge to cry out for him as you let your head fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

The wet heat of his tongue met your pussy in long, languid swipes. He nodded his head with each motion, dragging it through your folds as he inhaled deep and needy breaths of your scent like you were his air. His eyes burned with lust as he looked up from between your thighs, gauging your every reaction in the way you fluttered around his tongue.

With a trembling hand, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along his brow, skimming the stray pieces of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. The intensity of his stare, the depth of his gaze, made you glow brighter even than that behemoth of a tree inside.

He sped up his movements, working you up, the tip of his tongue pointed to swirl in a pattern as magical as it was maddening, flicking it teasingly over your clit and making you clench with each too-quick pass. At the same time, you felt Eddie’s hand creep up between your shoulder blades, fingers weaving into your hair to grasp it at the root. He gave it a firm tug and pulled your head back, bringing his lips to your ear so he could whisper to you—deep and rough and just loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Why don’t you tell him how long you’ve wanted this, huh?”

Another pitiful whimper left your lips as Eddie’s other hand squeezed a little more intensely at your chest, tweaking your nipple through your dress, loving how it made you tremble.

“Si-since Junior year,” you panted. “When he w-won the state swim meet…”

Just the thought of that day nearly has you flooding Eddie’s lap and Steve’s mouth. Your mind filled with the memories of it—visions of him in a Speedo that confirmed just about every rumor you’d ever overheard in the girl’s locker room; his arm and back muscles rippling as he pushed himself out of the pool; water spilling over freckled skin, droplets collecting on his shoulders and running down, down, down to where the small of his back met the fullness of his ass.

You had sat in the stands, thighs pressing together, feeling almost perverted staring while he celebrated with his teammates and whipped off his swim cap, his wild hair exploding out of it and making you wonder how he’d even managed to fit it all underneath in the first place.

The mere mention of his glory days seemed to have a similar effect on Steve. The movements of his tongue and lips turned more fervent, more determined to unspool you as he moaned like he’d never tasted anything as good as you.

Tremors began to roll through your body, making your thighs twitch and spasm.

“Tell him how good it feels,” Eddie husked, hips now punching up to create some friction against his own cock as it strained inside his dress pants. “Tell him how much you like it.”

“Yes, Steve, fuck—I love it so much,” you whined. “Keep going, I need it.”

The pretty lilt and waver of your voice had Steve unraveling before your very eyes. Another low groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he buried his face further, more eagerly, in your heat.

“God, you taste so fucking good, honey,” he moaned. “I could do this all night.”

The thought of having his mouth on you all night is enthralling, but there was no way you would last. You were barely going to make it another minute as it was. Steve was too good. 

Every flick, every swipe, every swirl of his tongue you could feel in your entire body. Pleasure rushed across you in waves, a torturous winding upwards, that burning feeling deep in your gut coiling tighter, tighter. Your breaths grew shallow and your pulse raced until you were shaking in Eddie’s lap, fighting so hard to keep your legs spread apart that they shook from the effort.

Steve’s hands came up to grasp at your thighs, his fingers squeezing at the meat of them as he kept you pried open for him to ravish. Like a man possessed, he lapped and sucked and kissed at your entrance, his whole body seeming to move along with the motions of his tongue and lips. Beneath you, the wicker couch suddenly slid backwards and you realized it was because he had tried to grind against it—desperate to feel something, anything, against his cock.

Wishing it was you.

“C-close, close, I’m so close. Steve, I’m co—oohhh—”

Your orgasm rushed in, plowing through your body, making you lose all sense. You squirmed wildly in Eddie’s lap, almost having forgotten he was there until he reached around to give both of your nipples one last pinch—knowing how it always pushed you further over the edge.

Steve’s lips never left your clit and his eyes never left your face as he ushered you into your climax. He stared up at you, his eyes all glassy and round, searching for your reassurance as he rose from between your legs. His face hovered in front of yours and he lifted a hand to cup your jaw, his massive palm warm on your flushed skin as you panted to regain your breath.

“Good?” he asked. Hushed, like a prayer.

“So good,” you exhaled, chest still heaving. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, so overwhelmed with all your buried feelings being dredged to the surface. “Steve, that was—”

“Steven? Are you out here?”

Every hair on Steve’s head went flying as he whipped his head around hearing his mother’s voice. Through the sheer curtains, he could see her as she stepped outside onto the porch, peering into the darkness, wrapping a fur stole tighter around her elegant cocktail attire.

Panic struck his face like lightning, his mouth hanging open, his lips and chin still shiny with your spend. He looked back at you, his cheeks nearly as deep red as the velvet ribbons hung all over his house. You scrambled off Eddie’s lap to stand, frantically straightening your dress and hair, nervously wiping at your lips that were swollen from biting down when you came.

“I, um…the party’s probably over,” Steve said. “I just have to say goodbye to some people.”

He ran his hands through his hair a few more times as he strode towards the door, even though any damage you’d done grabbing it must have been righted by now. You looked over at Eddie, your own eyes swirling with questions you were terrified to hear the answers to.

His shoulders bounced, standing to tuck his shirttail back into his dress pants.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.”.

Steve was waiting in the foyer with you and Eddie’s coats when you snuck in from outside. His parents, thankfully, were too occupied giving the caterers instructions for clean-up to exchange any pleasantries at the door. You could only imagine how that would go…

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I’m the girl your son made come all over his face in your pool house. What a lovely party, thank you so much for inviting us.

There was still a smile on Steve’s face, though it felt almost pasted on now compared to his expression when you first arrived, sort of forced in an attempt to look more normal than he felt. He handed off Eddie’s leather jacket and then held yours open, his eyes remaining glued to you as you turned and pushed your arms through the sleeves. His fingertips trailed along the nape of your neck as he helped straighten the coat on your shoulders, his index tracing its curve all the way to your hairline in a way that felt so intentional it made your skin buzz.

With your ears pounding from your heartbeat thundering in them, you spun around to face him, your lips parted to speak only for no words to come. Because what was there for you to say? Or for him to do? Kiss you? He hadn’t even done that during, would he do it now to say goodbye?

Steve’s handsome face was as conflicted and contorted as your own. A faint blush still dusted along his cheeks and his eyes shone bright from the candlelight coming off the tapers that had burned almost all the way out. At last he drew a breath, and you felt your heart stutter.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

Eddie could barely contain the snort that burst out of him, even as he slapped a hand over his crooked smile and your eyes shot daggers straight into his chest.

You couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

There was only silence as the pair of you trudged along the driveway to the street where Eddie had parked his van, the snow on the ground having melted into slush mottled with gray where it mixed with excess oil on the road. Without the glow of the Christmas lights coming off the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the darkness of Steve’s street now felt oppressive. 

It made you walk a little quicker to the van, your hand curled tight around the passenger side door handle waiting for Eddie to unlock it. As the two of you climbed inside the cab, he cranked the engine and flipped open the air vents for the heat to blast, finally breaking his silence as you yanked your door shut behind you with a sharp tug.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I thought I was helping,” Eddie muttered, his hands gripping tight around the steering wheel. “You were being so fucking obvious, I thought you needed a push.”

His chunky rings glinted in the street light as he busied himself messing with the radio, static scratching in your ears as he searched for something besides Christmas music.

“Are you really mad?” he asked, still fiddling with the dial, barely able to look at you. 

You shook your head.

“I just…I don’t know, I feel like it’s weird now.” You let your face fall into your hands and shook your head furiously. “I mean, was that totally fucked up? To do that?”

“Nah, that wasn’t fucked up,” Eddie said assuredly. 

He sounded confident enough that you let your shoulders actually relax and finally expelled the breath you were holding. The relief was short-lived though, when Eddie piped up again.

“I’ll tell you what might be, though.”

With a heavy sigh, you looked over at him warily. “What?” you asked.

Eddie sighed as he slumped back against the seat. His foot rested on the gas pedal and he pressed it down lightly, barely revving the engine to get some hot air flowing from the vents.

“When he comes over for Christmas Eve.”

Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate any time taken to read/comment endlessly ♥️

Started on this last year in December so that should tell you everything you need to know about my writing process. Enjoy some Christmas in whatever-month-you’re-reading-this. 😉

[jaythes1mp]

Hello how are you? I hope you are well!

Okay wait this idea is probably dumb and stupid so you can ignore it since it popped up into my head and I wanted to ask but what about a goldfish! reader who can turn into a human.

It’s like cat! Reader or puppy! reader but instead of them being either of those they can change into a goldfish.

How would the Batfamily treat them? Like a huge tank or something? Premium fish food? Treats?

How would the Batfamily treat their human form?

I started to laugh while writing this so haha

Have a wonderful day/ night/ evening!

I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH TAKE A BREAK AND MAKE SURE TO REST AND DRINK WATER AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!! 🩷❤️💙🩵💚💜💛

⭐️anon (I just dubbed myself that sorry 🤣)

You can totally be ⭐️ anon, I love your energy!

In the case of a goldfish reader, and any other freshwater creatures that they may turn into, the family would first have to develop a fiercely protective and possessive obsession over the human half before they would become overly invested in the aquatic aspects.

It's not until the family has become yandere that they would start showing a particularly possessive interest in your freshwater form.

With a goldfish in mind, Jason wouldn’t likely exhibit a strong interest in you due to the limitations of your aquatic form. But on those rare occasions when he’s at the manor, he’ll still opt to spend time with you, enjoying your company even if you can’t do the same things he typically enjoys.

However, if Jason were able to find a way to force you into remaining in your human form with him, then he’d probably become completely fixated on keeping you by his side at all times. You’re still his Darling, yknow? It’s a pity that the rest of the fam won’t let him keep you at his house. He’d even buy a large tank for when you shift, and everything!

Tim would be delighted the thought of stealing you from the manors comedically oversized enclosure, which they had built in just for you, to swap you out for a regular fish he had bought at the nearest pet store, just to see how long it took for the rest of the family to notice.

He'd keep you in a tank on his desk, right next to all his paperwork, so that he can watch over you as he works away, taking little breaks to observe and admire you as you swim about in your watery prison.

Tim would make sure to keep the tank well-decorated and comfortable, adding in your favorite plants, stones, and trinkets to keep you entertained. Similar to the main one in the center of the manor, just with far less space.

But regardless of how pretty your tank looks, it would still feel like a prison. You're always going to be painfully aware of your confinement. Especially when the one on Tim’s desk has a lid, forcing you to stay and swim endless circles, never stopping until he feels gracious enough to let you out.

Damian treats you with extreme care. Everything must be perfect. With a sterile, immaculate tank, an ample supply of food 24/7, your health in top condition, and absolutely no signs of boredom. Even the slightest hint of loneliness will have him instantly scooping you out of the water, either forcing you to change back to spend time together, or he'll invest in a portable tank to smuggle you into his school. You'll never be left to your own devices for long, as he's always making sure that you're given all the attention that you deserve.

Damian is fully aware of how susceptible fish can be to depression, and given the somewhat abrupt manner of your kidnapping, he won’t take any chances. So, to prevent any potential psychological distress, he's extremely careful to provide you with everything you could possibly need to be happy and healthy. With ample space to swim around, a proper diet, and plenty of stimuli to keep you entertained. When you’re with him, it's as if you're living a life of unparalleled luxury, in spite of your confinement.

Although, Damian has still accidentally snatched up the counterfeit you that Tim had placed in your tank, and it was ultimately Conner who had to break the news to him that it wasn't the real you half way through the school day.

Dick, being the affectionate sibling that he is, would probably still keep you company while in your goldfish form. He'd swim about in the water with you, and find ways to interact and entertain you, such as tossing in small toys for you to play with, or placing his hands in the water to let you nuzzle against them. He's just glad that you're in a more vulnerable form, as it reminds him of when Jason was a child and how he’d missed out on the time in your life where you'd of been more receptive to his affection.

He’d probably even have special underwater equipment installed in the tank, like a communication device so that he could “talk” to you, bubbles that he could blow at you, or maybe even an intercom for music, just so he could better connect with you in your aquatic form. Dick will stop at no end to ensure that you feel loved and included, even as a fish.

It’ll be almost the same as with your human form, but instead of using words or touch, Dick will find other creative ways to pamper and spoil you, like adding special treats or fish toys to the tank, or arranging the underwater environment into a little sanctuary just for you. He’ll do everything in his power to show how much he cares, just like the affectionate big brother that he’s forced you to see him as. Just how it’s supposed to be.

The last of the family is Bruce. While the others find ways to pamper and spoil you, Bruce's interactions with you as a fish are a little more distant. He'll dutifully check in on you at least twice a day, making sure that the tank is clean and that the water quality is up to standard. But after that, he'll spend less and less time around your enclosure.

He's more comfortable when you're in human form around him, as it allows him to better understand your wellbeing. He can gauge your emotions, check if you've been eating enough, and actually see you properly, instead of just catching glimpses of your little fish body hiding behind the expensive rocks.

You're now Bruce’s child, and yet, when you’re in your goldfish form, he can't help but feel a distance between you. Perhaps it's the inability to communicate, or the way your little fish body seems to hide behind everything, but it's harder for him to truly connect with you on a deeper level. Maybe it's the cold reality of knowing that he’s keeping you in confinement, or the loss of affection, but something about your life as a fish just doesn’t sit well with him.

Link to Masterlist

Extra

[fairlyang]

Rookie II 🕷️

you find yourself back at your new job

w/c: 4.7K

pairing: miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. gloryhole, voyeurism, blanking out, delulu af, lack of food & dehydration (drink water!!!!), room 1, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (do not do this), creampie

previous part ~ next part

You still had to be there for another three hours after Miguel left. Your mind was out of the loop and your brain was foggy.

At some point between the halfway mark you switched from blowjobs to messy handjobs but luckily none of the men complained.

Finally it was 4am and you slipped the final dick of the night out of your mouth. You sighed and stood up, fixing your clothes before looking down at the poor rug that was now filled with endless amounts of cum.

You'd also given up on swallowing it all and didn't wanna stain your shirt so you started spitting it out. Momma apparently did raise a quitter.

But only because your mind was filled with the terror of Miguel knowing it was you the whole time. Or even worse, he doesn't know and if you were to reveal it'd all go to shit.

He would most likely fire you and you'd no longer be a part of the spider society which would be so fucked because you rightfully earned your spot there and you absolutely loved being there.

But you were getting too ahead of yourself. Maybe, just maybe he wouldn't care? After all he was the one that paid you and even left you such a generous tip.

And technically any side jobs shouldn't be any of his concern, but given this was not any ordinary side job and it is now fully his concern, you didn't know how to go about it.

You rolled up the rug and carried it, you opened the door and walked out putting the rug against the wall so they can wash or burn it, you didn't know which they did.

You closed your door and walked along the slim hallway as the other girls were also getting out and fixing themselves off. You turned to the left and opened up the employees only door, and left it open for the girl that was behind you.

She gives you a quiet thank you as you nod and walk out of the room. You turn to the right now heading towards the entrance that also happened to be the main exit.

You turned your head to the right as you walked past a few of the rooms that were still available. You couldn't help but watch again, it was all so intriguing.

But considering you'd been sucking dick the past four hours this wasn't so amusing for the time being so you kept walking.

You were nearing the entrance but first had to walk past the first set of gloryholes. The one that after tonight you oh so desperately wanted to be in.

You couldn't imagine just how tired the girls are and just how much cum they could take. Luckily the girls in that specific room get breaks and switch off every two hours but that still sounds exhausting.

Especially after seeing just how many big cocks came in, it was an exceptional amount. There were a select few you wanted to fill you but you'd have to wait a few days at least until you could.

You watch the girl that has her ass stuck out of the hole and two different men were fingering her as they slapped their cocks onto her ass. Her moans were so sweet and she sounded so pretty.

But you then put your attention to a girl getting ate out by two men on the middle wall. Her legs were tied up and they were really getting in there. Nice to see they don't care if they touch each others tongues and only focus on the girl's pleasure.

On the right side of the wall were three girls getting pounded, all three men looked like big gym guys, broad shoulders and pure muscle. All of them had a lot of stamina and fully focused on fucking their girl right.

You got closer and leaned against the wall watching in admiration and a twinge of jealousy. You didn't know if you could handle only sucking endless amount of dick every night, you already wanted to move to this room but patience was key and unfortunately you didn't have any of it.

You sighed and walked off, looking at the cracked walls and the lights that were flickering on and off. Finally you made it to the booth with the lady and she chuckles upon seeing you, "seems you were a grand hit for your first night Rosie."

You shrugged and grabbed the sign out sheet, quickly signing it before facing her, "felt like a piece of cake."

She laughs and waved you off, "go on, see ya tomorrow."

You wave her goodbye and give her a smile before walking away. You push open the door, instantly feeling the cold breeze hit your skin. Note for the future: definitely bring some kind of sweater.

You took a left upon walking out and walked straight to the alley. It was empty of course so you quickly dug out your bag and swung up to the roof.

You open your bag and quickly find your watch, carefully put it on before opening a portal straight to your apartment, too lazy to swing.

You enter it with haste and are in your bedroom, you place your bag on the floor before slipping out of your clothes.

You threw them in your bin then walk over to your dresser opening up your drawer with shirts and choose the first one you see. You take your bra off and leave it on top of the dresser then put on the shirt.

You then plop down on to your bed and luckily drift off to sleep, not having to think for another second about what went down earlier.

Your body woke you up around midday, about to be 1pm when you get a call from Lyla.

Her hologram appears in front of you as you wiped your eyes and let out a yawn, "oh you look like a mess."

You groan and roll your eyes, "what do you need Lyla?"

"Miguel wants you in his office asap." She chirps and you jump up, eye wide and a wave of anxiety surges through your body.

"Uh did he say why?" You asked and she shrugs.

You sigh and nod, "I'll be there soon."

She nods and quickly disappears as fast as she appeared leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Does he know?

Are you about to get the ultimate lecture of your entire lifetime?

You took a quick shower and put your suit and mask on before opening up a portal to HQ.

As you stepped inside and were in the lobby your nerves only grew and you really hoped that he didn't know. Not only would you die of embarrassment and just die on the spot but you would not be able to speak. Just pure silence.

What the hell would you even say or how could you possibly defend yourself from something like this?

You were overthinking on your entire walk to his office space when you accidentally bumped into someone. "Sorry." You said under your breath and walked around the person to continue walking but they grabbed you and made you face them.

"'Sup with you?"

You sigh and give a weak smile, "Hey Hobie, my bad I'm just all over the place today."

He narrows an eye at you, not believing you but then shrugs and gives you a pat on the shoulder, "Lemme know if you need help with anything, y'know I got you with distractions."

He nudged you and you just playfully roll your eyes, "yeah yeah thanks a lot Hobes, I gotta run."

"Meetin' with the annoying prick today huh?" He says crossing his arms against his chest and you simply nod.

"Good luck, hope ya aren't eaten alive." He says making you sigh and finally walk away from him after giving him a wave.

Now you were even more nervous. What if everyone knew?

Maybe you could’ve found a different job to start with, maybe McDonald's or whatever the fuck they had here. Maybe then you wouldn't be in this mess.

But then again you wouldn't have made almost a grand in just a few hours...

So maybe this wasn't the end of the world...

Just then you walked up to Miguel's office and looked at him up on his platform looking at his screens like he always does.

You walk up and stop when he sighs, you clear your throat and he turns around, looking right into your eyes. "Lyla said you wanted to see me?"

More anxiety filled your stomach as he nodded and cleared his throat, "I need you to be honest with me."

Oh fuck.

You gulped and nodded, twiddling with your thumbs as your eyes were growing wide. You were doomed.

He steps down from his platform and walks up to you, looking at you carefully. As if he was inspecting your face. His eyes scanned down to your lips which you felt involuntarily twitch.

Oh shit.

"Call me crazy..." he starts and takes another step forward, then stops, standing directly in front of you. Awfully close. "But I feel like I know something I definitely shouldn't..."

Death.

You needed that so desperately, an emergency, all the anomalies in the facility have been let out, fucking anything to not be there.

You stood frozen, horror in your eyes and just completely dumbfounded unsure of how to respond.

He snaps his fingers in front of your face and suddenly he's looking at you worried, "you okay? You kinda blanked out on me."

You blink and stare at him blankly, what?

"Fine you don't wanna do those reports I assigned you yesterday, it's fine. I'll just ask Jess to do 'em but you really could’ve just been honest with me." He says and backs away from you and back to his platform.

What the fuck-

Apparently your imagination decided to run wild today and not having any food or water in your system since before you went on the mission yesterday, no wonder your brain was playing tricks on you.

You ended up helping Miguel with the reports and took them to the cafeteria to get as far away from him as humanly possible. And to get something to eat.

You ultimately decided on eating some pizza and drinking plain icy cold water. You couldn't believe your mind made that shit up because of the pure anxiety you had since you made the realization twelve hours before.

You ended up doing the reports and making Hobie give them to him because you couldn't dare face Miguel again after embarrassing yourself like that.

The rest of the day flew by as you patrolled back on your earth not wanting to think of Miguel and distract yourself as much as you could.

Which helped a lot.

You ended up helping your friends who were getting jumped by some members of the Maggia. After scolding them for not carrying any type of protective weapon you went back to Earth-928 for your shift at the brothel.

You had forgotten about Miguel until you reminded yourself of last nights events and you couldn't fathom the fact that you could suck him off again tonight.

You were back at your apartment and you grab your bag of the fresh packed clothes and instead of swinging you made a portal straight to the roof of the building.

You do the same routine as you did yesterday, taking off everything spider related then change this time into a pair of leggings and another baby tee.

Some type of progress.

You also grab a zip up hoodie out of your bag before closing it up then swing down the alleyway. You hide your bag in its new designated spot then walk over to the front of the brothel.

Pulling open the door you're greeted with the smell of cigarettes and you notice there's men in line to pay. You walk in and face the wall, keeping your head down so they don't see your face.

Apparently the men are respectful to the women who decide to keep their identities a secret, which was good. You didn't need assholes here having the urge to look at your face and expose you.

And according to Lola the men were overall not asshats and were respectful to all the girls. If they weren't, Estelle, the lady from the booth, had their head security guy rough 'em up or completely scare them off.

A real one at heart and you couldn't help but feel relieved.

You heard the men walk off and go directly to the stairs to the right instead of straight down the hallway. They were going for the one on ones.

You turned around and walked over to Estelle who gave you a grin before passing you the sign in sheet and another masquerade mask. You quickly signed then put on the mask and waved her off then walked down the hallway already hearing loud screams and cries.

Taking notice of the paintings on the walls as you walked through, making a left turn, finally near the first set of glory holes.

Every single man in there was going feral, the whole room was loud and there were all kinds of noises from all over the place.

You shook your head and continued walking. You can't keep getting distracted every time you walk past this specific room.

It'll be your turn eventually.

Finally you got to your designated room and you walked to the employees door and walked the little hallway of doors before finally reaching yours.

You closed the door behind you and immediately walked over to the new rug and sat down on it. You turned your head and threw your sweater on the little table there was before turning back and there was a cock already waiting for you.

Time to work.

The whole night you were waiting on Miguel to show up, to hear his voice, hear him give you sweet words but nothing.

He didn't show up the following day either or the day after after that.

And he wasn't acting abnormal to you during missions so maybe he really doesn't know and you're in the clear.

Maybe you wouldn't have to see him at your second job and everything would be alright.

Your test results finally came in and you immediately sent them over to Estelle who asked if you wanted to switch rooms and with all the eagerness in the world you said yes.

It had been a solid week since you started and every time you were on edge if Miguel would come in.

But now that time has passed and it seemed like he wouldn't come in, you could work in peace and actually enjoy yourself like the first day before hell broke loose.

And of fucking course you were going to ask for a room change after a week of sucking dick. It was great, sure, but it was also repetitive and at least with the first room you'd be able to feel all kinds of cock inside you.

So when Estelle asked you which side of the wall you wanted, you immediately asked for the left side of the wall. You wanted your ass out and figured maybe after your break you could switch with another girl if it was too tiring for your legs.

So without a second thought you packed your bag as fast as possible before going through a portal and quickly run to it as you walk out to the roof of the building.

It was already starting to feel like a routine.

You changed out of your suit and put on a skirt along with a baby tee. None of it mattered since you were going to be butt ass naked anyway.

You hopped off the roof and landed gracefully since you've been carefully practicing your landing skills. Some from a certain widow from back home helped.

You hid your bag then quickly ran to the entrance, not wanting to wait any longer.

You pulled the door open and grinned at Estelle, she sighed handing you the sign in sheet and mask before shaking her head, "you're too excited Rosie, ya gotta ease yourself into it."

You sign and shrug, slipping the mask on and giving her a wide smile, "It feels like I've waited ages, I may as well be excited!!"

She chuckles and shrugs, "that excitement will run out quick hun."

You groan as you put the mask on, and wave her off, running the long halfway and hearing the moans of the first room.

Finally.

Everyone who was in this room whether employee or customer was tested, regularly. And condoms were available.

A lot of men didn't like them and not all the girls required them. But you thought since you were on birth control and you trusted the testing process and that everyone was clean you figured you'd leave it optional, so the man chooses whether or not to use a condom.

You walked into the room and went to the second slot that was empty. The guy that was in there to make sure everything was in order stepped in front of you and lifted your door up for you.

You just had to kind of lay your upper body on the massage like table then he'd close the door by your hips. You took off your skirt and put it in the little room you would be in. It was a massage table for you to lay on but then wood surrounding everything else like a box.

You got into position, laying down when you realized your feet weren't straight on the floor, you were somewhat on your tippy toes. Suddenly the massage table is brought down until they reach the floor and you realized the mechanics of it was to purposely move depending on the girl's height.

Suddenly the little trap door closes and you turn your head looking behind you and sure enough your lower half was the only thing exposed to the rest of the room.

You had left your tiny thong on and figured the first man could just use that to his advantage and have fun with you by first getting you wet.

And suddenly you feel a hard smack against your ass making you moan as the sting faded. The man then smacks the other making you moan again.

You could then feel the man's hands grazing your ass before they slowly made their way down to your already needy cunt.

You assumed he might've been on his knees as you felt his breath against your panties. But then again it could be more than just one man which sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt a hand right on your pussy, giving you light smacks, earning himself a whimper from you. He groaned and began rubbing you through your panties which made you spread your legs apart.

You realized this was going to be super trippy and the slightest bit isolating because you were going to receive immeasurable pleasure but couldn't see who was giving it to you or watch it be done.

You'd never know who was fucking you or even see the cocks that would be fucking you. But you still had one of the best senses: touch.

You'd easily be able to cum with just how much every cock would stretch you out and how deep they'd be able to reach.

Not so bad.

You're brought back to reality when you feel a tongue lick down your slit and to your clit. You moan and fold your arms in front you then lay your head on them like a pillow.

You then felt something hit your back and you realized he threw your thong at you. At least he didn't keep it.

You move your hips against his face and he smacks your ass then starts devouring your pussy. You let out a cry and close your eyes trying to imagine what the man looks like.

And already anticipating his cock inside you.

But then you do, you feel the tip of a cock rub against your wet folds when you realize there was still a mouth sucking on your clit.

You gasp as the cock slides in then slams into you. You whimper and feel yourself clench against the new man as the first man continued sucking on your clit ever so gently.

Just then the new guy starts fucking you, at first slowly to let you get use to the girth of his cock but then speeds up, suddenly not caring.

"Fuck!"

You try to keep your upper half from moving so much but it felt damn near impossible as he rammed into you.

He was now full on pounding your poor pussy to oblivion as you cried out feeling so fucking full.

He was groaning and smacking your ass occasionally as he thrusted his hips into yours but suddenly stops and you feel him cum?

What the fuck?

That fucking fast?!?

You were very disappointed and you feft the mouth that was on you disappear but all of a sudden there was a new dick inside you.

Ah perfect timing.

This dick felt smaller and less thick, this one was going to be short and sweet.

At that point you didn't even expect to cum, these men were using you as their very own fleshlight. Which did sadden you considering you just wanted to cum and thinking you would get to with all the guys you'd make cum. But nope.

A whole hour had passed and not a singular man was able to make you cum. Literally every single one edged the hell out of you and you had no choice but to take it. You thought you were bound to cum but apparently tonight didn't have that in store for you.

At least you thought before hearing the familiar sound of heels. You held your breath as another man was rutting into you, slamming into you hard and deep making you cry out in pleasure.

"Mmm fuck!!"

You closed your eyes and fuck yourself back on him which only made him go harder.

You finally felt your orgasm approaching, finally after an hour of straight of edging, you couldn't take it anymore and you were just so fucking close.

And then the expected happened and he came inside you but didn't keep going.

Just pulled out, leaving you pouting for more. You needed to release so badly. You almost thought this was because of Lola's presence in the room.

You heard whispers by your hole when your stomach drops, "here's our Rookie! She just got moved up front today actually!" Lola says and you bite your lip only praying to whoever was listening that it wouldn't be him.

Unfortunately no prayers were answered.

"Dropped in at the perfect time then huh?" Miguel's familiar voice says and you couldn't help the tingle it brought to your body.

You felt your heart beat fast and sure enough, there was the spidey sense. Where was that before?!?

"As if this isn't your usual time Miguel." Lola teases and you could hear a belt unbuckle.

Oh fuck-

Oh god-

He was about to-

Were you suppose to stop this?!?

You could technically go on your break now but what would be the point? The guy would help open the door for you and then what? You'd come out and let Miguel visually confirm it's you?

Hell no.

Then you feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your folds then slide down to your clit. You bit your lip really wanting to fight back letting out any noises that could help him recognize you.

Then he moved his tip to tease your entrance, dipping it in slightly then sliding it out.

What if you accidentally moaned out his name-

He then slams into you making you let out a loud moan. Shit.

"Good girl." He moans and places his hands on your hips, moving it back into him.

You whimper and cover your mouth, until he starts pounding into you that you have no choice but to moan. He filled you up perfectly and it felt like heaven.

But it had to be your fucking boss of all people?

He just had to have a cock sculpted by gods and that fit literally perfectly into you? It wasn't fair.

And it also wasn't fair how fucking sexy his moans were.

You hadn't realized how sexually attracted you were to him but after this you'd have no choice but to only have that in mind.

Especially with how good he was fucking into you making sure to hit his hips against yours with every thrust. He was fucking you deeper and deeper and yet again you felt another orgasm approach you.

But maybe this time will be different.

And it was.

He was fucking you so good your moans were coming out even though you were covering your mouth. You squeezed him perfectly and everything about this was perfect.

You should've tried to hook up with him before this but at least it was happening now.

And for the time being you had no regrets.

Purely focused on wanting to cum and really hoping he'd be the one to make you cum. He was kind enough last time and gave you so much praise so maybe this time he can repay you and make you cum.

He started smacking your ass and alternating between both cheeks, leaving them both feeling so warm and most likely red. "Fuck baby- you feel so good wrapped around my cock like that." Miguel moaned out and started fucking you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess as your legs shook. 

"Fuckkk~" you slurred and tried to catch your breath.

He then started slowing down slightly and started hitting deeper, now hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. "Mmm fuck yes- please!" You cried out and move your ass up against him.

He smacked it and continued his pace letting out grunts and moans as you felt your orgasm build up in your belly. "Oh god yes- just like that. Please don't stop-" You murmured and tried to stay still but it was getting harder to.

Your legs were already growing weak and you felt you were finally close to actually having an orgasm all night.

He then switched his pace now going faster again and fucking you harder again, leaving you a whimpering mess for him.

You closed your eyes and all of a sudden forgot where you were and just imagined he was fucking you anywhere else but there.

Maybe in his office on top of one of his desks.

That thought alone was nearly enough for you to throw you over the edge, and it was especially when he started your clit and wouldn't stop his pace after hearing your desperate little cries for him.

You felt him twitch inside you as you gripped his cock making you both moan at the same time. You were already feeling lightheaded and him pounding into you senselessly wasn't helping.

"Fucking cum for me pretty girl- fuck- please cum for me baby." He groans and you cry out, that being enough for you as your orgasm hits you hard and your whole body starts shaking.

You felt your legs shake and you thought you could've somehow fallen if not for the fact he was holding you tightly and steady as he was filling you with all his cum.

You laid your head on the table and breathed out, your walls entrapping him still as he completely slowed down, riding his climax.

"I fucking knew you'd feel so good angel." He murmurs and slowly pulls out.

You whine as soon as you didn't feel him inside you, now feeling completely empty.

You felt his cum leak out of you and you felt your fucked out pussy clench around nothing but air. You heard him chuckle and you just close your eyes on the verge of passing out but you stayed awake considering it wouldn't be best to fall asleep.

This time around you didn't even wanna think of the problems this would cause.

You had finally gotten your well deserved orgasm and that's all you really cared about it, even if it was your boss who gave it to you. At least you got to cum once during this whole thing.

You heard the clink of heels come in and you hear both voices talk but you couldn’t be bothered to decider what they were saying. So instead you calm your breathing knowing damn well another man could end up slipping inside you any second now and you wouldn't be able to catch your breath.

But lucky enough for you, no one did that and instead you were left there able to catch your breath, unbeknownst to you was because Miguel was paying every man in there to leave you be for the next half hour.

[night-raven-tattler]

Love beyond spoken words - part 1

Summary: Everyone has a way of saying "I love you" without using those three words.

Characters: Ace, Jack, Azul × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Jamil, Rook, Idia, Sebek

Warnings: food mention (Jack's part)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You had no idea how Ace was able to maintain an average of 80 for his grades, because it never seemed like he was paying attention in class

Even when he was hunched down over his notebook as if he was writing down notes, he still gave you the impression he was not listening to the lecture

...because he wasn't, really

A folded piece of paper fell on your textbook from the direction of the seat next to you, and if the red heart doodled on it was any hint towards who the sender was, you knew he wouldn't allow you to pay any more attention to the rest of the lecture

You unfolded the piece of paper, and the words written on it brought a small smile to your face

"Hey hot stuff, wanna ditch Deuce and Grim for a lunch date? □yes or □yes"

You decided to tease him a little, so you drew a third square with a "no" written next to it and crossed it, then you folded the piece of paper and tossed it in his direction

And watched how his confident smirk turned into an offended frown in less than a second

He scribbled down something and threw the piece of paper towards you once again, huffing just so he caught your attention enough to look at him and see how hard he was trying to act hurt

"Come on! I even called you 'hot stuff' and everything!"

You couldn't deny that the whole situation made your heart skip a few beats

Your banter was no secret to anyone: all of your friends knew you and Ace loved to push each other's buttons in an endless silly game of cat and mouse

Yet the written notes kind of made the whole situation have an intimate note to it

It was a game just for the two of you, only for your eyes to see, antitipation and excitement building up as both of you slowly added to your secret conversations

"So you call me 'hot stuff' only when you want me to do something?"

You scribbled back and threw the paper at him and watched how his eyes widened as they followed the words on the paper, and a bit of pink dusted his cheeks as well

He hesistated before he wrote down a reply, and he slid the unfolded piece of paper towards you

"I won't admit anything on paper so you have no physical proof you can show off to the others."

You turned towards him and rolled your eyes, showing him exactly what you thought of his reply

But then, he signed to you to turn the piece of paper around

And, as you did, you discovered another message from him

"I wouldn't mind telling you exactly what I think about your looks if you say yes to that lunch date."

You waited a few minutes before writing down on the piece of paper, letting Ace grow a bit anxious and impatient from your lack of response

He watched as you folded the piece of paper and placed it gently on his slightly open palm

And he had to hold himself back from fist bumping the air when he unfolded the piece of paper, revealing how you crossed out your previous "no" answer and marked the other two "yes"s instead

『••✎••』

Jack had a hard time expressing his more sentimental feelings outwardly, and you assured him that you still knew he cared about you

While he was not a poet or a novelist, he still wanted to learn how to express his care for you better

And one day, an idea finally came to him as he watched a few students exchange notes during class...

It all started when he ran to you during P.E. and silently handed you a water bottle before going back to where he came from

On the water bottle, you noticed a small sticky note, slightly wet from the condensation on the cold bottle, and the note had a message written on it

"Remember to drink water. I don't want to see you dehydrated."

You quickly looked for Jack in the small crowd of students, and when you finally spotted him, you noticed how he was trying to look everywhere but at you, while rocking a cute blush on his face and neck

One day, you forgot your notebook in the library, but luckily your knight in fluffy armor retrieved it for you

As you took it from his hands, you noticed the sticky note on it, but before you could ask anything about it, he walked away

"We have a test next Wednesday. If you need help with studying, you can ask me for help."

Jack was sweet enough for you to buy you lunch while you saved two seats for the two of you somewhere in a more secluded corner of the cafeteria

He returned to you with his lunch and your own - a whole grain bread sandwitch and a bag of assorted nuts

And the usual note you've started to get used to

"You look tired. Hope you regain some of your energy with this."

You looked up to him, who was trying to pick between looking at you and looking away from you

You smiled sweetly at him, unwrapping your lunch and starting to eat and chat, and Jack appreciated not bringing up his new habit right away

As much as he denied it, Jack liked to be admired and felt a sense of pride whenever you watched him outrun his track and field clubmates whenever you dropped by

His speed and stamina was something he obtained from his own efforts, but he couldn't help but wonder how much of the motivation he carried with himself daily was multiplied by your influence

Jack discovered he became more and more determined every day: to become stronger, to become a better student, to show you that you always have him to rely on in times of need

You waited until the club took a break to approach Jack; you handed him a towel and he mumbled a thanks before dabbing it on his sweaty face and neck

You also handed him a sports drink as you praised him for his hard work

The bottle was unexpected, but what surprised him more was the sticky note he noticed as he took the bottle from your hands

Even though the note was slightly wet from his sweaty palms and condensation, the message it sent was clear

"I'm very proud of you. Keep going! I believe in you!"

He shily reached his hand towards you and took a hold of your hand as his tail wagged happily, occasionally brushing your legs

『••✎••』

The contract on the desk in the Lounge's VIP room was unlike any Azul has previously seen

The paper was slightly wrinkled, the whole thing was handwritten, and the hearts at the corner of the paper were not part of any contract etiquette he was familiar with

Amongst the sea (pun not intended) of probably misused legalese he didn't quite know himself and a bunch of sentences written in overly pompous formulations vaguely resembling formal speech, a certain phrase caught his attention

"The contractee will be able to exchange 10 minute break times with any desired act of affection from the contractor, as long as the contractee provides proof of fulfilling the required terms."

The contractee being him, and the contractor being you, of course

Azul's face turned pink, and a small smirk appeared on his face

Even when you were away from him, you still dedicated time to make sure he was taking care of himself in the silliest of ways

Your little unprompted attempt at playing his own game was amusing, and his mind raced with all the ways he could take advantage of the terms you presented him with...

That's why you were summoned to him VIP room a day later

"I'm quite interested in your offer. However, I think we should discuss the terms of the contract further before we sign it."

You were both amused and surprised by how professionally Azul was playing along your silly little game, but you remembered he was in Octavinelle for a reason: he liked being entertained

And you had fun while drafting the contract, so you supposed your idea was entertaining enough

Still, you were happy he was so eager to indulge you

Game or no game, you were still determined to sign a contract with favorable enough terms

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I'd like to propose a better way of defining the affection I'd be receiving, and I would also like to suggest offering different rewards for different timestamps."

Azul anticipated your stubbornness to influence you heavily in the negotiation, yet he didn't quite imagine the extent of your determination to have him rest

You did not even allow Azul to reduce the break time anywhere under 10 minutes

The terms you settled on were simple: 10 minutes for physical affection outside of kisses, 20 minutes for kisses anywhere outside the face, and 30 minutes for a kiss anywhere on his face

And when the piece of paper finally had both of your signatures on it, you stamped the paper with a kiss before handing it to Azul, whose face turned red at the gesture

You never expected Azul to take the contract as seriously as he did; you received at least one message a day of him telling you he was taking a break to drink some water and relax his hands

You didn't plan of breaching the contract either: you always did everything your greedy little octopus asked for

You got to spoil your boyfriend while he finally had a convincing enough reason to take a break: it was a win-win in your book

『••✎••』

[faux-ecrivain]

Yan neko

(Second Official Post)

(This yandere is slow developing, so it won’t seem particularly yanderish.)

Yan neko who approached you in his cute little cat form, meowing for you attention (but in reality all he wants is your food)

Yan neko who happily makes himself at home, ignoring you when you shoo him off the furniture or tell him to stop eating your food. 

Yan neko that enjoys the soft pets you give him (even if he bites you when you pet him for too long). He enjoys the love you give him, the cuddles (no matter how reluctant you are to give them), the kisses too…(Although he hates it when your kisses muss his fur!)

You place a gentle kiss on the forehead of your cute cat and your hand gently running through his soft colorful fur. He purrs loudly as you continue to grace him with excessive amounts of affection, he knows that despite your indifferent exterior you love him. (His delusional mind may be conjuring up a different sort of love, the type that taunts him with the thought of revealing who he truly is)

You don’t know when this cat managed to worm its way into your heart, but you can’t say you hate it. 

Although, this joy and contentment is destroyed when he reveals himself. He expected you to greet him with the same amount of love you graces his cat form with, but clearly he was wrong.

You’re panicking, you’ve been living with a person this whole time?? Others might not view it as a big deal, but you do, you feel betrayed and angry. 

There’s been a person masquerading as your pet cat this whole time?? A person that’s been eating your food, sleeping in your bed (albeit in cat form, but who’s to say he didn’t turn into his human form at night?), probably stealing your clothes too! (He was totally stealing your clothes, he hid them in a floor board where he’s hidden everything else he’s stolen from you)

Yan neko is flabbergast by your behavior, why are you screaming? Why are you angry? He didn’t do anything to you! Sure he might have stole a few intimate items of clothes, but he returned them and he’s been pitching in around the house! (He’s been doing the dishes, even the laundry and it’s very difficult to get stains out of the clothes you own!)

Yan neko tries to calm you down, insisting that he’s still the same old cuddly cat that you’ve been doting on. (Despite the glaring differences, after all cats don’t speak English, and they definitely don’t have hands)

Yan neko who gets tired of your shouts and decides to shush you up (he just covers your mouth, although that backfired and you bite him). Eventually you do calm down, now yan neko is your roommate and he has to go get a job.

Yan neko is appalled by your request (what do you mean I have to get a job? So what if I’ve been living here rent free and eating all your food! I’m a cute cat boy! Don’t you want to take care of me?)

Yan neko who begrudgingly gets a job, although he struggles with hiding his tail and cat ears. But he’ll do anything if it means staying in this warm house of yours and having endless supplies of food! (Although he’s rather upset that he has to stop sharing a room with you)

Yan neko who becomes fiercely territorial the moment he sees you invite someone over to your house. He growls (do cats growl?), he hissed and snarls. His anger only tempered when you spray him with water, then he’s banished to the guest room. 

Yan neko grumbles, already plotting the demise of your guest.

He scratches his nails against the wall and tries to listen in on the conversation you two are having. He can only hear murmurs and then he’s distracted by the sound of you laughing. His hearts flutters and he laments, wondering why you never laugh when he’s around. He sighs and then he hears your guest laugh, and his mood sours.

He snarls, (how dare that stranger flirt with you! Yan believes that he’s the only for you..), then slams a fist against the door. It startled your guest and you excuses yourself to go scold your neko roommate.

Although he hates being scolded (your lectures take way too long), he can’t help but reveal in your attention. (Of course he does, He’s a cat). He reluctantly agrees to quiet down (you threatened to take away his catnip), only after you promise to let him cuddle you tonight. 

Of course this doesn’t stop him from sneaking out after your guest left, stalking your guest and then promptly eliminating them from the world. (It’s a mess to clean up, but he’s persistent, and soon enough the entire area is sparkling clean. Then he has to find a way to clean himself off, maybe this wasn’t the best idea?)

He does his best to distract you from his sudden and unexplained disappearance (boy, you sure are persistent! You must be really worried about him…) it takes hours, but you’re eventually placated and you get ready for bed. Although, that calmness is destroyed by tomorrow morning, as the news comes on and reveals the unfortunate death of your guest from last night. (Your guest was named Gene Robinson, their parents are absolutely devastated to hear of Gene’s passing.)

Yan neko instantly becomes on edge when you start to question his excuses, you start to point out flaws in his logic, you start to doubt him. (don’t do that, he doesn’t want to loose house privileges!)

Yan neko tells you That Gene was a threat, that he was only doing what was necessary to keep the two of them safe! 

Yan neko panics when you don’t believe him (calling him a criminal and threatening to call the police) and decides to take action (he knocks you out), he wants to keep you safe, but he can’t lock you up here (people will notice your absence). He doesn’t know what to do, for now he’ll just get you comfortable in bed, and when you wake up he’ll try to explain the situation to you.

(Phew, this took some time, but this isn’t exactly my best work. Still, enjoy the post and feel free to comment! I’m having trouble with coloring the font, so I apologize if certain parts of this post aren’t highlighted or italicized.)

[femalefemur]

Stranger in the Woods.

this is an 18+ fic, minors do not interact!

warnings: dub con, bears, hybrid John Price, please let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you take a walk in the woods and get lost, bear shifter John Price finds you and takes what's his.

A/N: finally finished this, this came from a dream I had and desperately needed to write down, I also don't write smut often, it is what it is, reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used.

The day was beautiful, golden sun shining bright in the azure sky, white clouds floating by like soft pillows high in the heavens as you stared wistfully out of your window. It was much too beautiful of a day to be inside despite the pile of housework you had to do so you grabbed your knapsack. You filled your water bottle and packed trail mix, along with a sandwich and the reddest apple you had before heading out. 

You walked past your neighbour’s house, glancing at their windchime as it tinkled on their front porch and the flowers lining the walkway up to their house that were in full bloom, their scent wafting through the warm summer air. You kept walking, past the other houses filled with laughter and people in their yards enjoying the warm sunshine. You passed them with a small wave and smile as you continued on your way. Soon there were no houses lining the path, only the occasional car passing you by as you headed towards the woods. You stopped at the dirt parking lot to take a sip of your water before continuing on and into the woods. 

The woods were calm, the sound of insects trilling and birds occasionally chirping filled your ears as you walked down the path. Your eyes drifted down towards the beautiful, green ferns that grew on the forest floor and covered it like a delicate blanket. There were small flowers that sprouted through the gaps in the ferns, a smattering of colour throughout the endless green of the forest. The sight eased your mind and made you forget about all your responsibilities for a few blissful moments. You felt as though you belonged there in the wild amongst the animals, as if the forest was calling to you, a home that would envelop you in the warm earth and take away your troubles. The thought made you stop for a while, standing there in the middle of the forest as you stared out into the sea of trees, your fingers digging softly into the rough bark of the tree you stood beside as you lost yourself to thought. 

By the time you had realised you’d stepped off the path and wandered deeper into the forest it was too late. Your mind had been elsewhere and your legs had moved on their own until you stood in the middle of nowhere. You had no map and no compass, you had gotten rid of the compass app on your phone when you had first bought it, and there was no reception so that you could redownload it. You felt foolish for having gone into the woods with nothing but food and water, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you glanced around and tried to ascertain a way back to the path. You started walking again in a direction that you hoped was north, picking the route by the position of the sun in the sky, hoping that you remembered enough of your survival training to be right about your choice of direction. 

You hadn’t walked very far when you noticed it, a large brown bear meandering through the forest, seemingly unaware that you were there. It made you freeze where you stood, trying not to make any noise to draw attention to yourself as you watched it carefully and noticing how it had its nose to the ground as it sniffed around. Your heart pounded in your chest as it started walking in your direction, your legs seemingly unwilling to move as you swallowed the lump in your throat before forcing yourself to slowly move to the tree on your left, gently removing your backpack and crouching in an almost laying down position on the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to see if it found you and the horror that would surely follow, your face buried in your hands as you bit your fingers to stop any sound that would leave your mouth. You heard it walk closer, the heavy steps of its paws echoing in your ears as you stayed where you were, now frozen in fear as you waited for whatever your fate may be. 

Then suddenly there was a nose prodding at you, it made you stiffen in surprise as you bit down harder on your fingers. The nose bumped into your arse before prodding at your thighs and pussy before you felt a clawed paw tear at your pants and flip you over. Your eyes met the cornflower blue ones that stared down at you, surprise written all over your face as you looked at the man, not a bear, before you. There were tiny bear ears atop his head that made your brows furrow in confusion before he was nosing at your pussy again, glancing up at you from between your legs as you tried to push him back and squirm away. Your actions only resulted in him throwing an arm over you and pulling you closer, groaning into your cunt as he lapped at you like a starved man, his fingers digging into your flesh and his tail twitching in excitement. Your face felt hot with embarrassment, you don’t know when you’d started to grind up against the stranger’s face but you’d realised when you felt your orgasm building, like a string slowly pulling taut as his eyes keenly watched your every reaction. His tongue ran over your dripping cunt, delving into your warm walls as his nose nudged at your clit and his beard grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sucking at your clit as he watched you get closer to your peak. His tongue rolled over the swollen bud as the string snapped and you came, slick dribbling from your hole and covering his face.

“Been a long time since I’ve had such a satisfying meal” he spoke, face still buried between your legs as he sucked at your clit and made your hips buck and try to squirm away, still sensitive from your orgasm. 

“Please, no more” You whined, pushing at his head as tears formed in your eyes, the overstimulation becoming too much. 

A gruff chuckle left his mouth, reverberating against your pussy before he lifted his head and crawled over you. His hands ripped your shirt with ease before he was rolling your nipples between his fingers and slotting his mouth against yours. The kiss was anything but gentle, his tongue pushing into your mouth and lapping at the taste of you as if he were devouring your very being, his saliva trickling into your mouth as you kissed and his fat cock grinding against your wet folds. You were panting by the time the kiss broke, a mess of saliva and your own juices smeared across your lips and face while he lapped at your skin with a soft groan. His tongue licked down your cheek and along your jaw, leaving a wet trail behind before he was pulling back to push your legs up to your chest with a feral grin on his face. Your pussy clenched at the thought of his thick cock inside you, slick drooling from your hole as you stared up at him with hazy eyes and his heavy cock tapped against your aching clit. The stretch as he pushed in was delicious, the thickness of him making you feel impossibly full, your eyes rolling back as he bottomed out.

“There you go, so good for me, hm, taking me so well” he praised you, pressing soft kisses to your calves as his fingers rubbed at where you were both connected, marvelling at the way you stretched around him as a soft whimper left your lips. 

All you could do was nod as he thrust into you, punching the air out of your lungs with a smile on his lips and his teeth nipping at your legs. He pushed them closer to you as he loomed over you, the position making his cock feel even deeper inside you as his fingers slipped into your open mouth, hooking into your lower jaw and giving a small tug with each thrust. The feeling of it all made your brain feel hazy and cloudy. The feeling of him so deep inside you, the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock brushing against your clit with each thrust, his fingers in your mouth, his beard against your skin. It was all too much, too good, too heavenly and it made you cum so hard you were sure you saw God. 

He kept going, fucking you through your second orgasm like an animal in heat as you drooled around his fingers and watched him. He was beautiful, beard glistening with your slick, thick, dark hair covering his chest and trailing down his torso to his pubes, soft ears and tail twitching with each thrust. The hair on his arms was just as dark and thick and a thin sheen of sweat covered him as the sun shone down on him like he was being kissed by it, making him seem ethereal. There was a soft clicking from how wet your cunt was as he fucked into you, the look in his eyes animalistic and hungry as he picked up his pace. The increased pace making you moan and whine, squirming as if you could escape when his thumb found your clit and circled it.

“Come on sweetheart, one more for me, you can do that can’t you?” He cooed down at you, grinning as you nodded and sniffled, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as he rubbed your clit faster. 

Your third orgasm ripped through you like it was wrenching you from your body, like your very atoms were being ripped apart and put back together by this man above you. He followed shortly after, hot, sticky cum flooding your walls and branding you as his, his to love, to care for, to fuck until his balls were empty, his to keep in this forest that had swallowed you whole.

[owlespresso]

the golden ivy which clings

omega!luocha/beta!reader you are a beta courier. one of your clients is more interested in you than you'd like. tags: blackmail, coerced intimacy done as a part of @lorelune's a/b/o collab.

Your legs ache. Your muscles twitch with the extended exertion. The last five hours spent on your feet are catching up to you. It’s a trapping of the occupation. Being a courier on the Luofu means you regularly bounce up and down its many layers and areas, rushing from district to district, from the boughs to the canopy. After three years, you’ve long memorized the thin corridors and hardly beaten paths, mapped every vein and pipe and ligament in your seemingly endless pursuit of planning the optimal delivery routes.

Faces blend together in your line of work. You doubt your clients remember much anything about you. You’re a muddy sparrow flitting from branch to branch, a bee gliding from flower to flower, as nameless as any other customer service worker. You earn more than most of your peers, but that’s mostly because you’ve extended your services to stations and ships beyond the Luofu orbit.

…And also because of your status as a perfectly even beta, liberated from the debilitating symptoms of heats or ruts. You have no need for bimonthly off days, and needn’t fear the voracious gazes or grasping claws of wayward alphas. No one is likely to notice a lone, scentless courier, even in areas where the Cloud Knights frequently patrol.

Today’s business sees you on the far ends of Aurum Alley, where night has slipped over the artificial skies like silk over skin, streets steeped in deep shadow. You stick to the walls, underneath awnings and through narrow side paths. Silvery moonlight dapples through a canopy of sunset orange leaves, touching the aged stone path, the askew benches next to the food stalls.

On the furthest side, mist billows from the waters and onto the red wood docks. Quiet, still. Hardly a customer to be seen. It’s been the very same every other time you’ve visited. The only people you’ve seen have been members of the IPC. They’re surely thrilled at the minimal returns the businesses here are receiving. Filthy hawkers, intent on contaminating every locale unfortunate enough to make contact with them. You hope they never see another coin in their entire lives.

Not that it’s any of your business. You’re just a courier. It’s in your best interests to keep your head down and keep your eyes from wandering, lest you attract their attention… or the attention of any other governing body who would disprove of the wares you ferry from place to place.

Near the docks, where the wind churns the briny waves, stands the blond man. A repeat customer, a man you’ve come to know as ‘Luocha’.

“You didn’t have to wait out here,” is the first thing you say to him, adjusting the straps of your heavy bag. Your shoulders have started to ache from the strain of the day's long treks. “It’s cold, isn’t it?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assures you. He has a delicate kind of beauty, the kind you see in fairytale picture books or depictions of soft omegas in gravure magazines. His cheeks are thin, set of his nose regal. His lips are soft rose, petals curled into a winsome smile. His lashes, thick and blonde, fan against his cheeks every time he blinks. It’s all at odds with his imposing height and strange, cold aura. “Shall we head inside?”

“It’s whatever you want,” you reply drolly.

“Inside, then. You look... tired. Have you been on your feet all day long?” Luocha’s hair sways when he turns and bobs which each sway of his hips. Dim lantern light catches on the ornamental pin which holds his strands in place. Just as striking as the rest of him. You really don’t know how he’s come this far without finding a mate. He surely turns the head of any alpha who catches a whiff of him. Even with your muted sense of smell, you still detect undercurrents of that delicate sweetness. Frosted finger cakes and clean face powder. It’s buried under something bitter and medicinal—only able to be caught in the tender hours of the night. After his work is long done.

“That’s just the job. It doesn’t bother me,” you assure him. The apartment building is darkly lit and nondescript. He doesn’t look like he belongs here, in all his whites and golds, pristine and put together and perfectly pressed.

“Still,” he glances back at you. “You won’t be able to do your job at all if you don’t get enough rest. And I would hate to be deprived of my favorite courier’s company.”

You don’t know what kind of face you’re making, but he takes one look at you and laughs quietly.

“My apologies. Given my occupation, it’s practically second nature for me to be concerned about these sorts of things.” He says with a small shrug. You don’t reply, lips nettling into a frown. If you were kinder, perhaps more naive, perhaps you would have mistaken the sentiment to be genuine. 

He doesn’t live in the hollow apartment he leads you to. It’s too ramshackle, mostly undecorated space with a couch, a table and a mismatched arm chair when you walk in. He’s dressed too nicely to tolerate moth-eaten curtains and layers of dust.

“Pardon the state of this place—I don’t actually live here. If it were up to me, we would hold our meetings in a nicer place.” he sighs. You don’t know why he feels the need for small talk. He hasn’t always been like this. During the first few months of serving him, the only words exchanged between you both were basic greetings and fleeting formalities.

“It’s fine. ‘S not like you live here,” you wave him off and deposit your bag onto the leather. It’s an earthy green, the color nearly the same as the worn upholstery. It squelches at the impact, and you tug it open by the zipper. The vacuum of created space is chilled around your arm, goosebumps rolling over your skin. A square package wrapped in plastic, off-worlder medicine banned aboard the Luofu, favored by certain members of Sanctus Medicus.

“Are you a member of Sanctus Medicus?” you’re not sure why you ask.

“Oh? I can’t recall you ever asking me such a personal question,” Luocha observes, a mote of mischief in his voice. “Why? Would you dislike it if I was?”

“No. It’s not my place to police anyone's beliefs—but the members I’ve met seem…” you trail off. It isn’t like you to give your opinion so freely, but you can’t imagine someone so discerning falling in line with those quacks.

“Sanctimonious? Self-righteous? Gullible?” Luocha lists for you, leaning against the back of that dowdy couch. He doesn’t move to accept the package, even when you pointedly zip the bag back up. His smile is unreadable.

“All of those things,” you agree, making the three steps it takes to reach him. “Though, I can’t really blame them.”

“And how could you? The long-lived of the Luofu will be roaming the galaxy and enjoying its many fruits hundreds of years after they’re dead and gone. It’s only natural to pursue that which they feel has been hoarded from them.” Luocha plucks the package from your waiting hands, eyeing it with mildly fond intrigue.

“I suppose,” you hum. You’ve already spoken too much. This isn’t a discourse you should be involved in. Sanctus Medicus, despite their incompetence, is still a faction of individuals with enough outreach to meddle in your business, should this conversation get back to them. 

Long fingers wrap around your wrist. Your eyes blow wide as you stumble into his chest—sturdy, so different from what you’d expect from someone so beautiful, built well beneath his layers. There is no presage, no forewarning.

Underneath the chamomile slides forth the tender, ambrosial scent which betrays his status as an omega. Your pulse hums in your ears, body frozen stiff—but you remain unblemished by the adrenaline.

“Mister Luocha?” you say.

“So steady, even now,” he observes with infuriating tenderness, breath warm against the shell of your ear. “I suppose I should have expected that from an emanator of Harmony.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, unable but to be proud of how steady your voice remains. Every meeting you have ever had with him replays in your head, rolls by all at once like jittering strips of old-timey film as you pull them from the rusty bank of your memory. What could have given you away in the brief moments you’ve shared together? What in the way that you’ve handed him his contraband belied your true nature? Nothing, you’re sure. He’s discovered this piece of you on his own, and that worries you the most.

“Come now,” Luocha coaxes, the euphony of his voice slipping into something softer and sweeter. “You can be honest with me. We’ve already shared so much with each other, haven’t we?”

“The only thing I’ve ever shared with you are the poisons you order,” you inform him, hands braced against his chest. He tuts at you, and his scent grows all the sweeter. Even you can recognize the excited pheromones he pumps into the air. Your senses are replete with him, tongue made sticky by the devious croon of his voice.

“And you give so much of yourself with that alone,” he insists. “Your willingness to pass illicit drugs into the hands of your customers tells me far more about you than any small talk ever has. A shame, really. You have such interesting thoughts, whenever you deign to share them.”

“What do you want from me?” you ask flatly. Your eyes narrow with undisguised suspicion.

“A great many things, but to start...” His fingers tap a gentle drumbeat atop your shoulder. You shrug him off. A contemplative sound hums deep within his chest, quiet but loud in the dusty still of the room. “Share more of your thoughts with me, Courier.” he beseeches. “You’re always so quiet, when we’re together. I think we’ve known each other long enough to hold better conversations.” His hands slide off of you, smooth and quick as oil slick. It’s a concentrated effort to not bolt out of his reach like a startled fawn. 

His gaze bores into your back as you take several measured, extremely normal and calm steps over to your abandoned bag, zipping it back up with renewed zeal.

“I think that was extremely inappropriate.” you share generously.

“I apologize. I only meant to tease, but it seems I’ve pushed too far,” he confesses, genuinely contrite. There is something else about his inflection. Something which sparks alive the long distant urge to soothe. “I don’t often forget myself like this. You must bring it out of me.” 

You frown. The feeling dies. It’s not your responsibility to comfort this weirdo. He’s done nothing to earn your sympathy. Pesky biology, however, would dictate otherwise.

“You’ll be delivering to me again tomorrow, won’t you?” he asks, tilting his head. Your internal discourse snaps to a halt, instinct shafted to the side to make way for the sacred tradition known as “doing business”.

“Of course. Same ingredients, same amount?”

“Yes—and a Core Esse, if you’ve the means to procure one—”

You give him a look, but you nod regardless. “Understood. I’ll meet you at the docks, tomorrow—” It’s not professional to walk away while making arrangements with a client, but you very badly want to be out of this stuffy apartment and away from the new, bizarre scrutiny he looks at you with.

You typically avoid knowing anything about your customers beyond the bare basics. However, you can no longer afford Luocha that same distance. Just how much does he know? And where exactly has he pulled your precious secrets from? 

The investigation begins tonight. You’re hesitant to call on her, but you may very well need to reach out to a particular contact.

—

Hours worth of feverish research inevitably lead to you just calling the Stellaron Hunter who owes you a favor. You have not the slightest clue where Luocha procured such private information, or how much of it he has. Penacony’s travel logs will be the first place to look. If your bothersome merchant has been there before, it’ll be no mystery where he figured you out. Does The Family still talk about you? And do they look back on your brief term of leadership with nostalgic fondness or embittered hatred?

You care not. Those mistakes are long behind you. The Luofu is a kinder place, somehow easier to navigate despite its Abundance soaked innards, where only the engineers dare wander. Without the protections they are outfitted with, you suppose you’re more vulnerable to mara exposure and all it entails, but you never dwell longer than half-an-hour at a time.

Roots and vines cling to the aged metal paneling and jutting pipes, green and gold particles sour the dim air. The pipes rattle and groan, portions of something neon yellow shooting through the complex web of them at irregular intervals. Flowers sprout from the ropey greenery, some bulbs shut and others agape. Pale petals of pink and white and periwinkle peeled wide open against slick silver and rusted brown. The closed bulbs look oddly wooden, but you’re not stupid enough to touch one.

Luocha could surely excuse you for being mara-struck. The Cloud Knights, on the other hand…

Well. It’s not worth thinking about. The overworld welcomes you back with a gust of fresh wind, washing away the acrid tang of the tunnels. The shallowest of them have several discreet exit and entry points. Crevices in the walls swallow you whole and deposit you in nondescript locations across the Luofu, random alleys and average apartment buildings where it’s easy to sink into the crowds.

Today, it’s a high end district, populated by the high-end homes of diplomats and ranking officials from the Luofu’s sister ships. They come to roost in these behemoth manors a few times a year at most, meaning the streets are emptier than you’re accustomed to. There’s not a soul to be seen or heard, not one resident there to share the wide open road with you. The houses leer at you with wide windows and lacquered doors, sat fat and happy behind their tall gates and gaping lawns.

Luocha calling you here, after all of those clandestine exchanges in that dowdy shell of an apartment, is a statement in itself. Is he threatening you with this obscene display of opulence? You can’t begin to fathom why he’d bother with bothering a simple courier. What does he possibly hope to gain?

The address he sent is among the smallest houses you’ve seen so far. One of the least extravagant, which is to say, still pretty fucking extravagant. The latticework fence is wreathed with delicate cotton roses and the yard is a veritable Eden in comparison to the other lots. The path forward is lined by patches of vibrant wildflowers.

The air is cleaner here, and for the first time since entering the district, you can hear birdsong echoing from the tops of the trees.

How much of this did he plant himself? And how have his neighbors handled living next to a miniature forest? You reach out, palm sliding over the closest oak’s trunk, the bark coarse under your cold palms. Beyond the path, to your left, you hear the babbling of flowing water. The yard isn’t large enough to have a creek, you reason, and the time of your appointment looms close—but you figure you have enough legroom to at very least sneak a glance. Your curiosity for once gets the better of you, sending you through the thicket of green, beyond a copse of trees lined up like appointed sentinels, and over an emerging path of flat stones.

The forest opens into a small clearing. A massive, rock-lined pond nests at the center, surrounded by cattails and watergrasses and other waterfaring plants. The babbling, as you expected, comes from a filtration system stealthily hidden amongst the many reeds.

Sunlight shivers across the gentle waters, stirred up by the afternoon breeze.

A chair has been left unfolded beneath the low-hanging branches of a stout, red maple—a splash of crimson among earthy greens and cool browns.

Cautiously, you pick your way down the slope to the pool, squinting at the fish which flicker and dart between rocks and lotus stems. Mostly koi. Pretty, glimmering things which likely cost an arm and a leg. You’ve been to many aquatic markets, even ferried a few live specimens yourself. You settle by the edge, elbows resting on your bent knees. Cautiously, you extend outstretched fingers towards the water, dragging along the silken smooth surface.

A hand lands on your shoulder.

“My, my—”

You don’t hear the rest of what he says. One moment you’re above water and the next under, your startled flailing sending you straight over the lip. 

Luocha is at very least apologetic about your unfortunate (humiliating) spill. He shows you to the washroom and closes the door with a contrite little smile. You run up the water bill for your trouble, the shiver chased from your drenched frame as you step under the hot spray. The shower has room enough for three people, easily. There are two heads and a bunch of silver knobs and dials you don’t feel like fucking with. Rich people and their needlessly complicated household appliances.

You don’t know exactly how long you spend in there, but the mirrors have fogged over by the time you get out. Only once you’ve properly scrubbed the pond water from your skin and tended to your hair do you turn the shower off. The mist sticks to your skin even after a decent toweling. You go through two until you give up and throw on the plush robe he so generously provided. It’s as fine quality as the porcelain tub you spy nestled against the western wall.

The brass glows near gold beneath the warm light. The entire bathroom is all golds and black. Utterly resplendent, but it doesn’t really seem his style.

Is this even his home? You can’t help but wonder as you stroll out the bathroom and into the rest of the house. Most of the interior chambers are linked by wide circular arches. The furniture is cream cushions paired with lacquered dark wood. A sweet smell hangs in the air, but you can’t tell if the potted white lilies on the table beside the sofa are the source.

Luocha stands by the window. Beams of sun hit his face and cast his hair in vibrant gold. He’s ethereal in those shades of sun. He looks delicate, somehow, curves of his body lean under the flowing press of his silken robe.

He looks at you. The dreamy green of his gaze clears your brain of the remaining fog, leaving you cold and alone with the fact that you are alone, together, in an empty house. In a mostly empty neighborhood.

“Your clothes are in the wash,” he smiles. “They’ll be clean in around an hour. Once again, I apologize for startling you—”

“Don’t. I shouldn’t have been skulking around in your front yard in the first place.” The sooner your humiliating slip is forgotten, the better. “Let’s just get down to it. You wanted something delivered, right?”

“All business with you, even now,” Luocha sighs, forlorn disappointment wrinkling his brow. “You don’t have to be so uneasy around me, you know. Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll brew us some tea.”

You do not sit. “You called me here for a reason. I deserve to know what it is.”

“Is your company not reason enough?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. He’s closer now, close enough for you to see how glassy his eyes are. The cloying, sweet smell grows stronger with each step taken, reckless pheromones enough to send a shudder down your spine. Is he… “What if I said I simply wanted to see you?” he breathes, gently cupping your chin. “Should I admit that you’ve haunted my near every thought for the past month, or would that be going too far? Would it frighten you?”

A ruddy flush paints his pale cheeks, cracks in his composure beginning to show. He’s always been the perfect picture of composure, to an irritating degree. The certain grace he moves with used to almost annoy you. So steady, in a world contaminated by constant disruption and imbalance. The very pinnacle of perceived harmony. Perhaps you envied the way in which he carried himself or the freedom he enjoyed as an interstellar merchant, but now—

Now you can say you hardly envy him at all.

“I would say that you should wait until your heat is over before making any confessions,” you observe, resisting the urge to swallow and make the problem worse. Omega or not, he still looms large over you. 

“I’m in pre-heat, where I’ll most likely stay for the next few days,” one of his hands graces your right shoulder, thumb rolling delicate circles there. “I won’t ask you to… service me through the heat itself, but your company would help soothe the symptoms.” The touch wanders down your upper arm, a smooth, repetitive caress. It feels more like an unconscious gesture or a nervous tic than anything else. A self-soothing sort of motion.

“I’m a courier, not an on-call heat partner,” you inform him. How desperate must he be, to seek out the assistance of a courier of all people? “And I’m a beta. I can’t help you in the same way an alpha could. You know that.”

“And how do you know what will and won’t satisfy me?” he replies cooly, haughtily, as if he did not just sing your praises and plead for succor by your hand. “Betas are known to be particularly adept heat and rut partners due to their versatile nature—”

“I too have read the ‘Galaxy Hitchhiker’s Guide to Dynamics and All their Intricacies’. You don’t need to quote it verbatim to me.” you reply flatly, sounding as unconvinced as possible. Luocha is—dangerous. He is handsome, and he seems very sweet, and always seems well of manners, but you know he hides his daggers deep in his sleeves. The moment you realized you are considering his offer, you feel apart from yourself. Because it is ludicrous an idea.

Luocha’s eyes close. His bright lashes fan against flushed cheeks. “No sexual intimacy has to be involved. While skin-to-skin contact is the most effective method to ease the pain, simply being in the same room as you will suffice.”

The heat of him slips onto your skin, the layers between you thinner than you realized. An absentminded hand roams to the sash tied ‘round your waist, idly toying with the knot. His palm, after a moment of fidgeting, settles on the round of your hip. He gives you a gentle squeeze, but it reminds you more of a cat flexing its claws than a gesture of simple appreciation. He inundates you with scent and touch, pins you like a butterfly to a board, wings splayed open for his searching eyes. 

Not that you’ve really tried to fly away at all. A flush of newfound heat encompasses you, unbidden as his scent washes over your palate. You draw him into your mouth and swallow, thighs pressing tight together. It’s ridiculous, really. Inane. Who is he to make you feel so unbalanced?

You find him so utterly vexing. No other man could do this to you, you think. You wouldn’t dare step foot into anyone else’s private home. You wouldn’t consider breaking the strict code of propriety you keep with your customers. But for Luocha, denizen of the Abundance and keeper of your most precious secret, you fear you may do anything.

“I’m a beta,” you repeat quietly.

Luocha remains undiscouraged by your disquiet. Baffling creature, bold beyond reason and reckoning behind his steady, at times coquettish mien. “You can still help me, if you would like. I’m not in the practice of taking unwilling partners.”

You let a poignant pause settle between you, as if you are legitimately considering his request. He leans in, ever so slightly, as if leering at you from three centimeters away is any better than leering at you from five.

Then, finally, after remaining silent for at least thirty long seconds. “Do you prefer blackmailed ones?”

He smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle with it, entire face lighting up with genuine fondness. So utterly vexing, this man.

“Do you really want an answer to that question?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he presses a kiss to your temple.

—

It isn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. Perhaps it’s because Luocha seems to lack shame in almost everything he does. True to his word, he doesn’t touch you without permission. The rest of the day is spent sitting together in the lounge. He reads a book while you sit on the couch, half-paying attention to the news program you’ve put on. Dinner is takeout. The conversation is… bearable. It helps distract you from how close he is, pressed tight to the side of his body.

You stay in the living room until the sun sets, vivid orange light descending to dusky twilight. Eventually, Luocha stands to head to the washroom. A chill replaces the space he once occupied. You don’t allow yourself to mourn the loss. Instead, you haul yourself onto your feet. Black spots swim at the corners of your vision as your body lags a few seconds behind your brain. 

It’s just more time wasted, as far as you're concerned, so you push yourself. You stagger until your eyesight clears, intending to make a break for the guest room that certainly must exist. Somewhere. A house this extravagant must have a guest room.

You manage to peek into two rooms, one a particularly extravagant closet and the other a sunroom. 

You sullenly retreat back into the main hallway and head for the next door. Luocha slides out of the bathroom and fixes you with a questioning stare. “Where are you going?” 

“Isn’t there a guest bedroom?”

“Ah,” he stands there and looks at you for a long moment, like you are a stranger in his home. Which is partially true, you suppose. You are little more than strangers. “There is, but I was hoping…” he looks off to the side with a pointed sigh. “you would spend the night in my bed.”

You stare at him like he’s grown a new head. He stares back, completely unrepentant.

“Because skin-to-skin contact helps?” you supply wryly.

“Right,” he smiles, as though glad you understand. “During pre-heat, an omega craves the constant companionship of a trusted person, preferably a mate, but that label doesn’t apply to our arrangement. Remaining isolated during this time could cause anxiety, depression, feelings of worthlessness, headaches, migraines—”

“You’ve gotten all the pity you’re gonna get out of me.” you inform him crisply. You relent anyway. The wooden floor is chilly as you pad towards him.

Your stoicism “Wonderful. Thank you for accommodating,” At very least, he seems to know that he’s putting this upon you. Luocha’s bed, you think, is far from the worst place you could spend your night. He’s far from unappealing. He smells good. He’s been weird to you, before, but he’s also unwaveringly polite and currently weaker than usual, hazier. 

Not like you have much of a choice.

He could easily leak your location to your former allies. The Family’s connections span the universe wide. They could easily track you down and cause you all sorts of trouble, maybe even get you kicked off the Luofu. It’s best to cooperate with him, for the time being. And it’s not like he’s terrible company. He holds the door open for you even now, when you’re here for his sake. 

His bedroom is as luxurious as the rest of the house. The floor is dark wood and the walls are black with golden accents. Tapestries hang over tall windows, blocking out the moonlight. A porcelain vase sits atop a combination dresser-vanity, its knobs and gnarled claws a warm bronze. The rest of the furniture is similarly colored, and of similar quality. 

What draws your attention the most is the bed. It’s a wide mattress held aloft atop a platform. Gauzy black curtains hang from the top of the thin gold frame, parted to give you a good look at the mountain of pillows and blankets stacked atop of it. This, you recognize.

“Ah, that’s…” you begin, not quite sure how to phrase it. Aren’t some omegas super touchy about their nests? You haven’t the slightest clue as to which compliments to pay and to which part.

“A nest. I typically don’t indulge in the baser instincts that come with heat, but the urge was stronger than usual,” Luocha informs you, padding over to the mattress. He flops backwards on it, swimming through silks and satins like a minnow up a stream. Soon enough, you’ve lost him in the pile. “There isn’t much else for me to do besides twiddle my fingers, and I can only watch television for so long. So I thought: why not? It’ll be as good a way to keep busy as any other.” 

There’s a small pause. Luocha hesitates by the vanity, drumming his slender fingers atop the hard wood. There’s something uncharacteristically fretful about the gesture. “What do you think?”

“It looks comfortable,” you nod sagely.

“What glowing praise,” he says, almost beaming. You’re kind of annoyed at how… no, you won’t call him cute. Not even within your own internal dialogue. “I’m glad to hear that. Why don’t you join me?”

He rests up against the headboard, lines of his body lean and lithe. He looks like something out of an old painting, long locks and pale limbs flowing over the dark sheets like 

The green of his eyes is startling in the dim of the room. He looks you over, haughty like a monarch on a gilded throne, until his eyelids dip and his head tilts.

“Come here,” he beseeches again. “Please.”

And you do. You cross the threshold of the room, slipping past the open curtains and into the bower of his bed. The mattress dips plush under your hands and knees. Once you’re halfway across, you sit back on your knees—but this is not close enough for him. He needles and pleads with you until you’re close enough to grab. One of his hands wraps around your upper arm, the other at your hip as he tugs you to him, fitting your back snuggly against his front.

You still, but the tension remains wound tight in your shoulders. You’re more amazed at your own stupidity more than anything else. Wasn’t it you who insisted on keeping your clients at arm’s length? All of that haughty professionalism was tossed out the window the moment you succumbed to his pleading—if it could even be called that. He asked nicely. 

Your eyes flutter shut. You lean backwards into his chest. His wide hands slide over your body, thumbs rolling circles onto your hips. A soft and sticky feeling settles underneath your skin as his thighs (bigger than you imagined) cradle your own, silken fabric of his robe pooled over the sheets. A low sound rumbles in his chest, suspiciously close to a contented purr. 

“I’m so glad you decided to spend time with me, courier.” he coos. His hand glides up your arm to cup your own, long fingers interlacing with yours. A contemplative hum rumbles within his chest as he turns it over. His thumb traces the lines and creases of your palm. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

“I suppose I don’t.”

“And that’s why it means all the more to me that you stayed,” Luocha murmurs. He reaches over to the nightstand, and the lamp flickers off. The room is plunged into matte darkness, hardly a glimmer of moonbeam slipping in. “I think that you’re more considerate than you pass yourself off to be. Does that frighten you?”

“I didn’t think you’d be able to talk this much,” your brow wrinkles. “Aren’t you supposed to be too horny to think?”

“I’ll remind you that I’m currently in pre-heat—a process my body uses to prepare for the actual heat.” he says with a light sigh. “Believe me. If I were in heat,” his breath brushed against the shell of your ear, a warm and heady caress. “You would know.” He delicately presses the shell between his teeth, nosing the space behind it with another pleased sigh. 

You shudder, and close your eyes. “And what’s the difference between heat and preheat?”

“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t be able to tell… The pheromones for one,” Luocha squeezes your hand. “Are different. They’re similar to the ones we give off when under threat, a signal that we’ll need help soon… Not all omegas go through it—only an estimated forty percent.” 

“I see.”

Luocha smiles, the curve of it pressed against your throat. You don’t like not being able to see him. A predator looming in the dreary dark of his den. “The desire is still present. Less a raging storm, more the gentle lapping of the waves.”

“Poetic. But I still don’t get why you picked me. They have services for this kinda thing. People who know more about it than I do.” If you doubted his sanity before, you certainly do now. What kind of sane omega enlisted the help of a postwoman above paid professionals? 

“I would rather you than an unfamiliar alpha some service decided would be an adequate match. Even if vetted, a stranger is still just that. A stranger.” Luocha idly toys with your fingers, thumb rubbing circles onto your palm. It’s a touch too familiar, too tender for what you are. But Luocha permits himself to it, and the rest of your body, with a natural ease. You can’t help but feel lulled by it. 

“I see. And you feel safe sharing a bed with your dealer?” Tempting as the siren song of slumber may be, you retain enough wit to pry. The whole thing is too absurd to not badger him a bit more. The arm wrapped around your waist tightens in reply.

“I trust someone who has never been late, never sold my personal information or purchase history and has been nothing but courteous to me.” Luocha lists off your credentials with ease. They feel like they’re straight out of an EULA, or some sort of contract. Out of place in a situation as delicate as this. You could easily tell him as much, but he’s starting to sound sleepy. You would rather he get his rest. And be quiet.

“Of course,” he squeezes the space above your hip, making your pulse spike. “Having the endorsement of an Aeon helps. Especially if said Aeon rules over the Harmony. What a lovely and orderly path to tread, courier. She chose you so well.”

“You should have told me that this thing was gonna make you delusional,” you grumble, writhing in his hold to simply signify your displeasure. A part of you wants to come clean and ask where the hell he learned your secret. It’s obvious that he won’t change his mind, or be swayed by your protestations. But you’re still too stubborn to admit he’s right.

You’re almost annoyed by how comfortable this is. He laughs, breath brushing the crown of your head, but he says nothing else, perhaps sensing that he’s reached your tolerance threshold for silliness. His breathing evens out a few minutes later, chest rising and falling beneath you.

You adjust yourself, settling into his side. Over the next few minutes, he contorts around you, the weight of his arm settling around your waist. Time slips away from you, after that.

The rampant pounding of your heart at last begins to slow. You’re almost calm, wedged between the blankets and body. Your sleep shirt is still wrenched upwards, his bare arm pressed against your stomach. The contact is a boundary crossed, a spark to a hunger you didn’t know you had been harboring. You don’t like it. Some part of your hindbrain rejoices at seeing this man’s needs met, and that delight worries you more than literally anything else Luocha has done or said today.

You stare across the room at the covered window. Slowly and steadily, you untangle your legs, curling them to your stomach. Outside, a frog croaks. The pond babbles in the distance. The air above the blankets is cool on your face and legs as you gently kick the covers back. The chill caresses your skin, sneaks between your robes to give you bumbling gooseflesh. The walls of the nest vent out the worst of the cold. Maybe you’ll ask him about cracking a window open tomorrow. Just a little bit.

—

You wake up a few hours later, and blink into the dark. Luocha stirs next to you. He’s awake. You don’t know how you know, but you can tell. His finger curl ever so slightly against the soft core of you. A shiver ripples across you, robe parted just enough for his fingertips to touch your bare skin.

“...Did you plant the garden outside?” you don’t know why you ask, but you do. 

Luocha hums into the crook of your neck.  He strokes your stomach, petting you.

“I did,” he answers after a moment, a contented sigh ruffling your hair. “Now get some rest.”

—

You leave the next morning, without breakfast. Luocha is a surprisingly deep sleeper, though perhaps you owe that to his current affliction. You’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. You’re also not going to be lured into skipping work by your own foolish sympathy. He can take care of himself for a miserly ten hours.

The day goes as any other does, at first. You take the shortest route you can find through the Luofu’s abundance-ridden innards, starting at the lower decks first. Packages and envelopes pass hands with little delay.

One of your clients, a buxom woman who owns a silk shop, covers her giggling mouth with an oversized sleeve. You eye her with suspicion. She notices, and giggles harder.

“I don’t mean to offend you, dear courier—it’s just—I hadn’t taken you the type to so openly… wear that kind of perfume.” she says, as if elaborating. You don’t understand what she’s talking about, and you don’t particularly care. You leave her to her frivolities and spirit away, merging back into the crowd with casual ease.

The next few clients each make some degree of face at you. One goes wide-eyed, before schooling his features into his typical, customer-service smile. The next looks at you like you have just thrice cursed his family line, nose wrinkled and eyes narrowed into a beady glare. You resist the quite mean-spirited urge to remind of the legality of his purchases, shoring up your mental fortitude by recalling the sumptuous tips he usually gives.

Your seventh customer meets you beneath the crimson awning of a local cafe. You’re glad to be out of the beating sun. 

“Congratulations, by the way,” she says with a smile, nursing a cup of iced tea and ah—you realize, something about you has really changed.

“Thank you, but may I ask what you are congratulating me for?”

“Oh!” she looks startled, and then sheepish. “On the relationship? I didn’t mean to presume….but your scent, today…” she trails off, looking awkwardly to the side.

Fortunately, you don’t need her to elaborate. The context clues snap together with sudden, startling clarity, the peevish behavior you’ve endured all day granted perfect context. Of course, evidence of your business with the merchant would be more apparent to those with keener noses. Your cheeks blood with abashed warmth. You resist the urge to shrivel like an old apple peel, overwhelmed all at once with humiliation, with indignation at yourself and the man who cast this misfortune upon you. 

Heavens, how outrageous you must have seemed, walking into the esteemed establishments and parlors of your clients bathed in that ridiculous fellow’s scent! It’s but another consequence of yesterday’s poor decisions. You fume silently as you leave, making a beeline for your apartment. It’ll delay the rest of your deliveries, but that can’t be helped.

Your phone jitters in your pocket as soon as you step through the threshold of your dwelling. 

You drop your bag onto the grey throw rug. It lands with a mighty thud, loud enough to make you silently hope the downstairs neighbors had not been enjoying an early afternoon nap. Your jacket gets tossed onto the sofa, keys thudding onto the upholstery. Then, you roundabout to the door. A row of locks catch stray rays of sun. You swiftly latch each one and give the door a rough, cursory shove. 

Then, and only then do you check your messages.

You left without saying goodbye.

Your brow furrows. You’d never taken him to be this needy. Every other message above this exchange is polite, but ultimately curt. Most of his recent prying has been done in person.

You were still asleep

It’s alright. When will you return?

After work. Around 8 hours

That long? Could I persuade you to return sooner?

I can’t just skip out

I’ll buy you out. How much do you earn in a day?

Honestly, the nerve of this man! You type a series of poignant expletives out before tactfully deleting them.

It’s more than the money. my clients are powerful. i cant lose those connections

A few poignant moments pass before his reply comes.

Alright. I’ll see you later.

The tension drops off your shoulders. You expected him, in truth, to let loose a most potent threat to ensure your immediate return. A part of you, small and illogical, fears he’ll do his worst regardless. The thought of The Family learning your whereabouts nauseates you, bile churning at the very base of your throat, but surely a man possessed of his many sins is too wise to open his mouth about yours. 

Without even realizing it, you have completely trapped each other. 

What did he ever do with that Core Esse?

It’s better not to think about it. You have hours more left to move, and your line of work demands utmost focus, lest you drop an organ into the wrong customer’s hands.

Fifteen minutes, you afford yourself. The water chases the sweat from your skin, soap and sponge raking your skin raw. The evidence of him washes down the drain with the suds, leaving you remarkably less agitated. Because, really, who gave him permission to linger on your skin and on your clothes and in your thoughts—who gave him leave to evoke your fear and sympathy and intrigue and misplaced affections? Not you, that much is for certain!

You determine yourself free of the vexing beast’s cloying scent and return to the Xianzhou’s busy streets.

—

Arrogance is one of humanity’s most populated wheelhouses. Next door, its foundations built by fools and geniuses both, stands proud senselessness. If you had to name a tenant they share, then with abrupt acuity, you would surely name the Stellaron Hunters, who, as far as you can ascertain, base their stratagems off the ravings of a lunatic. As you wander to the edge between land and space, you cannot help but wonder what his credentials are, and if anyone has ever laid eyes upon them. 

You don’t care enough to ask, though, when you reach the jagged edge. The end of the cargo hold, where the Xianzhou’s artificial sky breaks. Fragments of pale blue and white float amongst the void, growing smaller and sparser until none remain. The ground ends in a series of jagged, shiny edges, as though the metal had been cut clean through. You duck underneath a smattering of ships and starskiffs and cranes and cargo containers. Cold, silvery chrome gives way to the cold, open empty. That is where the man in black waits.

“Blade” is his name. He is a vision against the star-scattered expanse of the empty. Stood beneath a bright, red star, unbothered hy the thin oxygen levels and freezing temperatures. Tall and looming and perhaps irredeemably beautiful. It could be the lack of air talking. You like him more than you like Silver Wolf. She wastes your time with always unnecessary and often personal questions.

“Here for Silver Wolf, I assume?” you ask, already rifling through your bag for the cables and strange, circuit-board devices which she has ordered from you.

“Yes,” he nods, and you appreciate how he says nothing else. 

“Alright. Here you are, then. Make sure she knows that she owes me another favor. These things were hard to find. She’s getting the discount of a lifetime.” you hand him three small boxes and he leaves with a nod. A polite and concise interaction. As distant as mostly-strangers should be.

—

“Home” is after that. The skies have gone a bright gold, nighttime looming in the near distance. 

Luocha’s home is not your home. You refuse to identify it as such, for doing so opens dangerous doors and implications which are most inappropriate for what you have. You make a brief pit stop to your apartment to gather a night bag, changes of clothes haphazardly crammed into the black canvas alongside a toothbrush and other necessary toiletries. 

You nudge the door open with your hip. Pale orange light falls across the threshold and into the dimly lit living room. Luocha sits on the couch, or rather, he lounges. The silken collar of his robe drapes over his right shoulder, exposing a frankly indecent amount of his chest. You pay his naked skin no heed, plonking your bags onto the floor. It’s a welcome weight off your shoulders. You wish you could lay on the floor. A good sleep on that fine, polished wood would fix you.

“Welcome home,” he greets you, daintily depositing the book he’d been reading onto the side table. “I never realized just how long your hours are. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m used to it,” you reply, but you flop onto the opposite end of the sofa regardless. A heavy sigh punches out of you, weary eyes shutting. 

“With how much you charge me, I would think you could afford to shorten your shifts,” he says, with sympathy you know is feigned. You crack an eye open to cast him a cursory look—but the room shifts around you in a blur as long fingers curl around your wrist and pull, tugging you onto his side of the couch.

You land with a disgruntled squawk. Your hands curl into silken fabric. and you realize belatedly that you’ve all but been dragged atop of him, left laid out between his legs. You twist, top half of your body turning to the side to level him with a nasty glare. 

He’s flushed, is the first thing you noticed. More so than yesterday. His cheeks are dusted in pale pink, a delicate blush that runs all the way to his shoulders. He’s warmer, too. You can feel the heat of him pressed along your body. 

“You didn’t have to do that. You could have just asked,” How does someone who looks so willowy have such a strong grip? It’s beyond you, truly. 

“Forgive me,” Predictably, he looks completely, and utterly, unrepentant. “You were just so unsuspecting, I couldn’t help but want to surprise you…” You make a point of looking as surly as possible, and the fiend laughs. Quietly, and behind his oversized, crimson sleeve. Unbidden comes to you the shape of his lips around that euphonic sound, what they might look like when parted by soft breaths and dulcet moans— “Ah, please don’t make that face. It only makes me want to tease you more.”

“Enough of your insanity. ” you bite out, pointedly pressing your elbow into his side. You wriggle in his arms. His grip curls tighter around your waist and he sighs, pressing his face into the crook of your neck to take a long inhale. “Let me up!”

“Just a few more moments?” he asks, words mouthed into your skin. You feel hot all the way down to your shoulders. You muster all your resilience with a swallow, but it isn’t enough. A hush falls over the living room. 

Against your better judgment, you find yourself lulled by the gentle sound of his breathing, by his warmth at your back. Nearly ever part of you aches. Your legs throb, the tight muscles of your thighs worn and throbbing from a long day’s labor. The scorching pains dig deep into your shoulders and your back—you’re due a nice, long shower, you think. 

The dappled sun against the adjacent wall writhes and shifts with the artificial breeze. You can hear the winds shifting through the canopy outside. A songbird sings a trilling little tune. It’s easier to focus on these things while you indulge him and wait to be let up, even if he is being unusually quiet. You’re wise enough to not necessarily be glad for the silence. 

His hand cups your hip, shifting you even closer. It’s only a centimeter or two, but it lets you feel the pointed hard thing jutting into your back in greater clarity. Unbidden, your cunt throbs between your thighs. The arousal and exhaustion makes your mind sticky, concrete thoughts difficult to come by among the haze. 

“Luocha,” you murmur, and he moans softly, breath brushing against your tender skin. Goosebumps flare across your shoulders and arms despite the heat—the sound the shock you needed to get moving. “This is—” you cut yourself off with a swallow as his lips press to the column of your neck. Your already flagging resistance whimpers out into nothing. Each heavy inhale draws him further in, the scent so sweet and cloying in spite of your muffled senses.

“You must have had such a hard day. Doesn’t it hurt? Always going home to that empty apartment?” he purrs, voice indulging, dripping with a delirious sort of fondness. And isn’t that always the trouble with these sorts of situations? Does he want you, or are you the closest warm body available for him to rut into? How strong is his grip on reality? You writhe in his lap and he gasps. His grip tightens in response, holding you fast with surprising strength. “You must be so lonely…”

“I’m not, really,” you nearly snarl, finally losing patience with your clinger’s affections. Your voice, alongside the elbow you jab into his side, jars him from his twisted reverie. He chokes, and muffles a groan into the collar of your jacket, at last lifting his lips away from your skin. The breath whooshes out of him at the force of the blow, but his grip barely loosens. “Behave. Or I’ll leave.” 

He inhales quietly, and shudders.

Over your brief stay in his lavish home, you have perhaps twice (or thrice) wondered if keeping to your principles was worth it. Why not sink into his touch? Why not drink deep of the physical affection he saturates you in? The fact that you’re contemplating the subject at all is deeply ruffling. Little less than two weeks ago, you would have scoffed at the idea.

Alas, the creature at your back is more siren than man. It wounds your pride. You aren’t just any beta. You’re a prime beta, a beta noticed and beloved by Xipe herself. The gift of Harmony should allow you to smother the scents around you completely. It should grant you immunity to the bothersome urges which so often get in the way of business. He weakens your shored-up defenses, somehow. 

“Of course… My apologies.” he sounds contrite, and despite yourself, you soften. Just a tad.  “It’s just—well, a little difficult to hold back when you smell like that.”

“Like what?”

Luocha evades the question, without even pretending to humor it.

“Your last customer was an alpha, wasn’t he?” He lifts his head from the hollow of your throat, looking down at your intertwined fingers over your shoulder. His thumb brushes along the back of your hand before he flips it over. His fingertips brush over yours, before curling into a fist around your pointer and middle, giving a gentle tug. He idly toys with your hand while he speaks. Voice a light, low murmur. “A tall man. Black hair, pretty red eyes… They look like candle wicks, don’t they?” He says it fondly, and your heart sinks into your stomach.

Of course he knows Blade. Why wouldn’t he? 

You’ve never bought anything from Luocha, but you can tell from what he orders that he’s a merchant who idles in the same, seedy markets as yourself. A man who had asked you to trade him an organ brushing shoulders with a Stellaron Hunter somewhere in the darkest corners of the Luofu sounds completely and utterly plausible. A group of little coincidences which occurred just to be a thorn in your side. How did they meet? You can’t help but wonder. How well do they know each other? What kind of relationship do they have?

You don’t ask any questions. It’s not your place. Getting involved anymore than you already are is just asking for more trouble. 

“And if I did meet him?”

He pauses, and laughs a little.

“Well. I am almost in heat. Perhaps I just became… a bit defensive when you came back, smelling just like him. Omegas in heat can be just as territorial of their dens as alphas in rut, though that's often overlooked in the social narrative. We’re supposed to be weak, dainty little things, you know?” If he feels self-conscious about this, he doesn’t show it. He has a tighter leash on himself, now. He sounds more contemplative than resentful. 

“You, weak and dainty? I have to laugh,” you don’t. 

“I appreciate how open-minded you are,” he says sweetly. 

A brief silence falls over the room. You take in the soft sound of the breeze outside. The steady shifting of the trees’ canopies. The steady breathing of that small ecosystem he has birthed and nurtured. 

He’s hesitating. A question hangs in the air, tangles on the tip of his tongue. You can’t see his face, but you have a sixth sense for these sorts of things. That, and it’s typical of him to demand more than you’re willing to give. No more ground will you cede to him. If he begs again for you to remain during the duration of his heat, he’ll find himself succinctly refused. 

Still, you’d rather not have to go through the uncomfortable hassle of rejecting him. But he clearly thinks better of it, because he stays quiet—only breaking the contemplative quiet to ask you what you would like for dinner, his thumb rolling circles onto your palm.

[forjongseong]

bite me // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: knight!jay x princess!reader

genre: royalty!au, fantasy, smut (minors dni) // warning: profanity, mentions of death, unprotected sex, a lot of biting // wc: ~6k

summary: a knight stumbles upon your castle, and unlike anyone you have encountered before, this young man seems to have a scent that you somehow cannot resist.

author’s note: I'm going to be quite honest with you, this fic is long overdue. I planned on releasing it BEFORE enhypen's comeback, since the idea came after I watched their mini-movie where Jay literally got his neck bitten by the actress but moods come and go, ideas appear and fade, so here you go.

initially it was also inspired by their concept pics, the Full ver. of their Dark Blood album, and I also thought of an alternate version (where Jay is the castle resider instead and y/n is the traveler/knight, let me know if that's something you might be interested in).

warning, though, this one might feel a little choppy, a bit hasty, and all over the place. my excuse is that I am drunk in love with Jay, and I take full responsibility.

no taglist this time, I shall let people find this fic on their own.

if you're here, congratulations and welcome! hope you can enjoy this one too.

When Jay heard the words ‘isolated castle’, he was expecting a huge building made of gray bricks with several towers that scraped the sky, sitting in the middle of an endless sea of sand with no roads connected to it. He pictured the sun shining mercilessly on whoever was standing under its light, and he was slightly worried about finding a source of water, as well as food.

Yet here he was, standing on top of a plush bed of grass, staring at the stone path that led to the castle in front of him. It was made of bricks, yes, but they were in the shade of copper, a warm and inviting kind of brown. The castle had no tower, or none that he could see so far, but it stood tall and mighty despite being surrounded by luscious greens and equally tall trees.

Jay reached for the worn-out map in his satchel, but as he stretched his arm, he winced from the sharp stinging pain that he had been feeling since hours ago. He did not know exactly when or how he injured himself—maybe he slept wrong, or maybe he used his hand wrong, or maybe it was just destined for everything to go wrong—but he was sure he had arrived at his destination.

During his years of training to become a knight, Jay had read countless tales, not minding if they were fact or fiction, and he had gained enough knowledge to go on a lot of missions alone. The townspeople were very supportive of him, as it was expected that the men in each family each take a role that was beneficial for the kingdom.

Fortunately, since he managed to capture the attention of the princess, Jay was soon handpicked by the king and queen to become their future son-in-law. When they found out that he was a knight, though, they became quite concerned with the tasks and duties that he had to perform. Eventually, Jay had to promise them he would not die no matter what, and it was a tough one to keep.

As happens in every other kingdom, it was customary for a member of the royal family to request an item as a form of dowry. Since Jay was not exactly born into royalty, he was given a task that would get the princess her dowry as well as prove Jay’s aptitude as a knight.

To retrieve the lost diadem of the Panthera onca.

The sound of his metal boots clinking against the rocky path made the resident of the castle open the doors before he could even reach them. You stood in front of him, and he thought your figure was unlike anyone he had seen before. To start, you were glowing. For some reason, the sunlight shined on your slightly tan skin, and it did not help that the outfit you were wearing was made of a sheer fabric that showed a bit of your curves and more of your skin. Second, you were—

“Are you alright?”

Your voice started ringing in Jay’s ears, and he realized how parched he felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal, or a sip of water, and the sprain in his arm from falling off his horse was not the only injury that he had. Jay reached his hand up to take off his headgear, and his slightly long hair fell immediately to cover his forehead.

“I,” he began, “I need water.”

And then everything went pitch black.

---

Jay woke up to the sound of birds outside the window, and he instantly noticed that he was lying down in bed. His heavy armor was long gone from his body, and he was only wearing the undergarments he came with. He started backtracking, trying to remember what happened, but then he heard water splashing, so he hopped off the bed and headed directly for the window.

The same woman who opened the castle doors for him was taking a dip in one of the most lavish pools he had ever seen. It was not like Jay had never been to a castle before, but something about this place seemed magical and just so different. He watched as you took laps in the water, and when you emerged out of it, you brushed your hair back as you looked up, and if he did not step away from the window, you would have caught him staring.

Jay sat back on the bed and began to think. Did you undress him? Did you tend to his wounds? Did you carry him up to the second floor by yourself? Are you alone in this castle?

He heard a couple of knocks on his door, and he flinched in his seat. “Come in?” he said timidly.

You pushed the door open and walked in with your hair half-wet, and you were wearing a different gown than before. You were holding a tray that had little trinkets that were supposed to help you with treating Jay’s injury. As you walked up to him, Jay pulled his feet up to the bed and scooted further until his back was against the headboard.

“It’s time to dress your wounds,” you sighed, looking down and avoiding eye contact. “Can you do it alone?”

“I have so many questions right now,” Jay said in a hushed voice as he watched your hands place the tray on top of the bed.

“I’m sure you do,” you replied, scrunching your nose and looking away. “I have to attend to something else, so please.”

You pushed the tray slightly towards Jay and looked at him for a split second before you broke eye contact again. Jay frowned as his eyes followed your movements, and when you disappeared behind the door, he let out a huge sigh that he had been holding in.

The questions he had in his mind multiplied, and he was determined to find the answers soon.

---

Jay had fallen asleep again, and when he woke up this time it was almost dark outside. The faint light of the sun entered his room through the window, and just as he was adjusting his eyes, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, with more confidence this time.

You had changed into yet another gown and your hair was up in a bun. The tray you were carrying had healing herbs and a plate filled with mashed potatoes and other roasted vegetables. When you tried to put the tray on Jay’s bed, he reached out for it and accidentally brushed his hands with yours as he took it away from you.

“Sorry, I,” Jay’s voice hung in the air as he noticed you take a few steps back with unnecessary haste, “I must be bothering you. You don’t have to bring food here.”

“Oh, I have to,” you replied. “There is nowhere else for you to eat.”

“You mean there is no dining room?” Jay asked, setting the tray in front of him.

“There is, but we don’t use it.”

“We?” Jay asked again, seemingly intrigued. “So, there are other people in this castle?”

“Not at this hour,” you shook your head slowly before looking at him. “I just meant myself. And since you are here, we.”

Jay could not help but notice the way you would scrunch your nose once in a while after talking to him as if you had smelled something foul or your nose was itchy. He began sniffing himself out of self-cautiousness, and when he did not find anything wrong, he became even more confused.

“I suggest you stay for another fortnight,” you continued. Your eyes were set on the left side of his waist, and you tilted your chin pointing to that area. “Your wound has to heal completely.”

“Right, about that,” Jay sat up straight and pulled his top up.

You blinked and immediately looked the other way, not wanting to stare at his bare body. Jay noticed your behavior and smirked to himself.

“I actually can’t reach this part very well since I sprained my arm too,” he said, pointing to his side. “I mean, I could, but it’s quite painful.”

You sighed heavily before licking your lips, and you thought it would be easier to get it done as quickly as possible. You grabbed the chair that faced the vanity and sat it beside Jay’s bed. You reached for the herbs and kept your eye around Jay’s wound, trying your best not to look up into his eyes.

“Are you a princess?” Jay asked carefully, keeping his eyes on you.

You nodded as you cleaned the edges of Jay’s wound, dabbing his skin with a damp cloth.

“Then why are you in this castle alone, Your Highness?” he asked again, adjusting his position, and pulling his top higher.

You paused to look at him for a while, but you managed to avoid his eyes. “It’s a long story,” you finally replied.

“I am a good listener,” Jay said, smiling at you.

You looked out the window and noticed that the sun was almost gone, so you sped up the process and in turn made Jay flustered. The movements of your hands became hasty, and you were sure you pressed on his wound a little too hard because you heard him hiss, but you knew you had to leave the room as soon as you were done.

“Eat your dinner and rest up,” you said as you stood up, wiping your hands with a cloth and brushing the skirt of your gown down. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Your Highness…”

The door slammed behind you and Jay was too shocked to even form a proper reaction.

“…I don’t even know your name,” he murmured to himself, staring blankly at the door and then at the food you had served him.

---

Jay woke up the next morning to the sound of a horse neighing. He recognized it and immediately jumped out of bed, making his way to the window as he winced in pain at the sudden movement of his arms. He spotted you in the courtyard with three other people he had never seen before, and since he was already feeling better, he decided to approach you.

When Jay entered the courtyard, you were stepping away from the horse, letting the castle’s servants tend to it instead since you figured it grew uneasy around your presence. As you took a couple steps back, though, you felt a pair of hands hovering over your shoulder.

“Whoa,” Jay said in a low voice. “Careful, Princess.”

You turned around and stood straight, nodding your head slightly to greet your guest.

“We found him in the woods this morning,” you explained without waiting for Jay to ask. “I assume he is yours.”

“Thank you,” Jay replied, already approaching his horse. In an instant, the black beast calmed down. “His name is Shadow.”

You nodded and observed the way Jay patted his horse, speaking to him in a calm manner and handling him in the gentlest way you had ever seen a man treating an animal. For a second, you witnessed the way the color of Jay’s face shifted, and you saw him as a commoner with a huge love for creatures instead of a wounded knight.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, breaking your own distraction. “I suppose you can handle him now. I’ll have my people take care of him too.”

Your castle staff hovered around you and spoke to you in whispers, and you responded to them in a similar way, stealing glances at Jay. When you noticed him glancing back at you, you turned around and started walking away with your staff.

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Jay spoke to Shadow. “You’re usually friendly to strangers. Pretty princesses too, mostly.”

Shadow snorted as he shook his head, almost hitting Jay in the face with his long mane.

---

As the hours went by, you tried your best to keep a distance from the knight in your castle. Every time Jay asked you a question, you would answer accordingly, trying not to give out too much information. After all, he was a stranger in your place, and you always had your walls up when it comes to protecting yourself.

It wasn’t until Jay revealed the reason he was out and about around your castle’s ground that you became instantly defensive. You were tending to his wounds and scars, the last of them, and once he mentioned the lost diadem, you let go of the cloth in your hands, letting it fall to the floor.

“You’re looking for the diadem?” You asked, not because you didn’t hear him the first time, but because you needed confirmation.

“Do you know where it is?” He asked back, eyes looking at yours full of hope.

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t be looking for it. Many men have died trying to possess it. It wouldn’t be any different this time.”

Jay frowned and almost chuckled. “So, you do know about it? I’m sure if you tell me, I can give it a—”

You snatched the tray away from his bed, your feet scurrying to leave his room as fast as you could. Jay’s mouth hung open as he watched you leave, and he was too stunned to do anything else.

That night, Jay realized he must have made a huge mistake. The distance you put between you and him became bigger, and you had tasked your staff to tend to his wounds and bring him his food instead of coming over yourself. This went on for days, and as much as Jay tried to ask your staff about you, he would receive no valuable information.

One night, Jay decided to take matters into his own hands. He had memorized the staff’s schedule, down to the hour that they would come to his room, so he picked a clear slot in the middle of the night to sneak out, determined to find you. Jay was clearly gifted with cat feet since his movements were barely audible, and as he searched through almost the whole castle, he finally heard some noise coming out of what seemed to be the largest room in the building.

He heard what sounded like a purr, and it was so loud that he could almost feel the walls vibrate. Jay pressed his body to the wall, making zero noise as he craned his neck to peek through the open window.

Jay saw you sleeping on the bed in a curled position. He knew it was you since the bedroom looked royal and you were the only person of royalty in this castle, but he had to do a double take.

You were curled up, indeed, but as he adjusted his eyes to the dark, he saw you lifting up your head and yawning.

Except it wasn’t your head. It was the head of a jaguar.

Jay squinted his eyes as his mind tried to make sense of what he was witnessing. You had the head of a jaguar and the paws of one, but your body remained the same. With a hitched breath, Jay leaned back on the wall and shook his head, thinking he was dreaming. He then decided to look a second time and to his surprise, you were already standing by the window.

“Fuck!” Jay shouted, stumbling back and falling to the ground.

You growled at him, keeping your yellow eyes focused on his figure. Jay managed to regulate his breathing and brushed the grass off his thighs before standing up again.

“Princess?” Jay asked, unsure. “Is that you?”

Jay took a step closer to you and you hissed, pulling the curtains down to cover the whole window before your shadow disappeared into the darkness.

---

When Jay woke up in the morning, he thought he had an elaborate and odd dream. He was hoping so, but then he heard a knock on the door before one of your staff opened it and peeked inside.

“The princess is expecting you, Sir,” he said. “At the dining room.”

Jay sat up and massaged his temple before responding. “She wants to see me?”

The man nodded once and was about to leave when Jay cleared his throat.

“Do you know what happens to the princess at night?” Jay asked with a raspy voice. He looked at the man, expecting an immediate answer.

“We all do, Sir.”

Jay sat on his bed as he gathered his thoughts, as well as his strength before he stood up and dressed to go see you. He was determined to find out what this was all about, and he decided to just ask you directly this time, no matter how forward it might seem.

At the dining table, though, all Jay could do was stare at the breakfast plate in front of him. He looked to your side and saw that you only had a glass of water. Jay cleared his throat before picking up a fork and starting a conversation.

“Are you not hungry?” He asked, looking at you warily.

“I already hunted last night,” you answered calmly, toying with your bronze cup of water.

Hunted, he thought. So he was not dreaming.

“I’m sure you have questions,” you continued. “And since you already know…”

“What happened to you, Princess?”

You were not expecting Jay to shoot a question as suddenly as he did, so you almost choked on your own words.

“You’re a knight,” you smiled softly. “You must know a lot of tales. Evil witches. Desperate kings and queens. Cursed princesses. I’m just one of them.”

“But what happened?” Jay asked again, completely abandoning his breakfast.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered, resting both your hands on the dining table.

“Is that why you avoid me during the night?” Jay continued.

You nodded.

“And is that why you have your staff around only during the day?”

You nodded again.

“You’ve been keeping your distance from me, Princess,” Jay said with a desperate sigh. “Is it because I’m a stranger?”

This time you shook your head. “No.”

“Then, why—”

“It’s because of your scent.”

Jay paused and for a while, you thought he had turned into a statue. “I’m sorry?” He finally responded.

“You have a distinctive scent that makes me…”

Your sentence hung in the air and Jay realized you were choosing the appropriate words to voice your thoughts.

“I don’t feed on humans,” you resumed, “and I would like to keep it that way.”

Is she saying I smell like an animal? Jay thought to himself.

“But if it’s a curse,” Jay spoke again, deciding to shift the topic, “how can it be broken?”

You chuckled to yourself, and Jay swore he had just witnessed the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

“What’s the most cliché thing you can think of?” You asked back before patiently waiting for an answer.

“A kiss?” Jay answered in a tone that sounded more like a question.

You snorted and looked away. “The curse can only be broken if someone sincerely falls in love with me. I bet you can imagine how hard that would be.”

Jay took your answer and started backtracking everything in his mind—from the moment he arrived at your castle, to the way you tended to his wounds and took care of him in every way despite keeping your distance. He wondered if you had done the same thing to other knights or travelers who had stumbled upon your castle.

“I was actually hoping I could keep this hidden from you until your time is up,” you said after noticing he had been silent for too long. “Tomorrow, it will be a fortnight since you came here. I was told that you’re perfectly healed, so you can leave as soon as you want.”

Jay followed your movements as you stood up from your seat, pushing it back before you walked over to a shelf on the other side of the room. You pulled open the lowest drawer and took out a headpiece decorated in the most exquisite set of emeralds and diamonds.

“The diadem you’re looking for,” you said, bringing it to him. “Take it with you.”

You waited for Jay to take the diadem out of your hands, but he just stared at it.

“Sir?” You asked, shaking the diadem a little in front of his eyes.

“You said,” Jay began and licked his lips, “you said many men have died trying to possess it. You told me to forget about it.”

“That was because most of those men tried to take it by force. It did not end well. You were a nice guest, well, most of the time if you weren’t lurking around the castle. My staff also told me how kind you are to them.”

Jay tilted his head. “Let me get this right,” he said, “you’re giving the diadem to me just like that because I’m… nice?”

“Also, because I want you to leave.”

For some reason, your statement felt like it stung his heart.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You already told me your story. I’m helping a knight achieve his goal.”

You set the diadem beside Jay’s plate and started walking towards the door.

“I’ll have my staff ready your horse for tomorrow,” you said without looking back. “Live well, dear knight.”

Jay had lost count of the many times you left him alone in a room during his stay in your castle. However, unlike the previous times where all he felt was mostly confusion, this time it hurt.

---

It had been days or maybe weeks since Jay left your castle, and although you had grown accustomed to his absence, you could not deny that at times you missed his presence. It was not like you had spent a lot of time together, but you heard from your staff how Jay would behave, how he would treat everyone with kindness and respect, and how gentle he was when it came to animals and plants.

He was unlike any other knight you had met before, but that made him the most dangerous.

Jay did not know that every time you came into his room and caught a whiff of his scent, your eyes glinted in hunger. He was not aware of how hard you were keeping your thoughts to yourself, and he definitely was not aware of how you started to confuse your thoughts with your feelings, thinking that he might be the one who could lift your curse.

The single dream you had was then shattered as quickly as it was built. When you found out that he needed the diadem as a present for his betrothed, you threw all your hope out the window. You wanted to stay civil, though, and you figured that the best way to not act up in front of him was to just stay away from him.

Therefore, you were stunned to find him again on your doorstep this evening. It was almost sunset, and you began to observe his figure under the yellow light. He looked better, healthier, and there was this glow on his face that made him even more handsome.

“Princess,” he greeted you, smiling.

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and your eyes focused on the item in his hand. Your diadem.

“I believe it would be unfair for me to take what is rightfully yours,” Jay said, slightly lifting the diadem.

“What are you doing?” You asked. It was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

“I came back because,” Jay paused, “I want to ask you to marry me.”

You had experienced many odd encounters in your life, but this had to be one of the most bizarre ones.

“This is a sick joke,” you retorted before turning away from him.

“Princess, wait!”

You rushed back into the castle, heading into your room since you knew you were going to change soon. You did not want to end the surprise meeting badly, and your mind was too clouded that you did not notice your staff scurrying back into their chambers, completely ignoring that a knight was chasing after you.

As you finally reached the door to your bedroom, you pushed it open and entered before you slammed it shut. However, you did not hear the door close and when you turned around, Jay was holding it open.

“Please,” Jay begged, looking at you desperately.

You were about to scream at him, but words would not come out, and instead, your voice turned into raspy growls and hisses. Jay let himself inside and closed the door behind him as he witnessed your transformation, and once you were in your jaguar form you jumped onto your bed, trying to get as farther away from him as you could.

“It’s okay,” Jay said, calmly making his way towards you. “You’re okay.”

Jay reached out his hand to your snout and you looked away, sniffing and resting your head on a pillow. It did not deter him, and he even moved closer and made himself comfortable on your bed before placing a hand gently on top of your head.

“It will be okay,” Jay spoke again in a lower tone, a voice of reassurance.

As you felt Jay gently stroking your head, he saw a single tear trickle down your nose. You were gritting your teeth while forcing your eyes closed, trying to block any bestial urges that might arise.

---

You woke up with your head on top of Jay’s chest, and the way his chest moved up and down with every breath he took made you gather your senses in a faster manner than usual. You realized he had spent the night with you in your room, and you also remembered how you starved yourself the whole night just so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt him.

You quickly came to the conclusion that a relationship with him would never work, and you began to taint your own thoughts by assuming that he came back to tame you, not because he loved you, and that he only saw you as another quest in his life as a knight. With that, you decided to leave the castle before he wakes up, hoping that if you leave him for long enough, he will yield and return to his kingdom.

Unfortunately, after stumbling upon Shadow in the woods, you were forced to return home, with the horse surprisingly following you in a calm manner as if he knew he was there to serve a purpose. You were worried sick, partly because it was only hours left until sunset and also because there was no other way Jay would leave your castle unless his horse was with him. Sure enough, Jay was waiting for your return and his face lit up the second he saw you approaching the grounds with Shadow beside you.

“You need to leave,” you said, handing over Shadow’s lead line to Jay.

You went inside and after a short while, you thought you were safe and that Jay had left, but once again he tailed you right until you reached your chambers, and by that point, you were too exhausted to drive him away.

“My family disowned me,” you began, not bothering to give any preceding context. “I’m not worthy of marrying you.”

“Princess,” Jay scoffed before he licked his lips. “I’m not even royalty.”

“I can’t stand the thought of holding myself back when you’re around,” you continued, covering your mouth with both your hands. “It will never work.”

Jay stood by your bed as you sat on its edge, looking down and resting your elbows on your thighs as you continued to cover your mouth.

“Bite me.”

You frowned and lifted your head from your hands. “What?”

“All you need to do is to get used to my scent,” Jay said, sitting next to you. You shifted in place. “So, bite me.”

You looked at Jay, unsure, and he nodded once before tilting his head, giving you access to his neck. Your hands trembled as you reached for his shoulder, so he grabbed your hand in his and held it tight. When he felt your nose bump into his chin, he closed his eyes, and when he felt the warmth of your breath graze the skin on his neck, he almost shivered.

You bit him once and at the same time, you felt his hand squeeze your waist. His scent flooded your mind, and you could not hold back from biting him one more time, so you did. You let go with a shaky breath and pulled away only to find Jay looking into your eyes.

“It’s not bad, isn’t it?” He asked.

You licked your lips and brought your other hand to his shoulder.

“Do it again,” Jay demanded.

You tilted your head to the other side of his neck, where you found a heart-shaped birthmark, and this time you bit him there without hesitation.

“See?” He spoke, and his voice echoed right into your ear. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Jay squeezed your waist one more time before you decided to bite him a couple more times. He began rubbing your back gently before you suddenly felt a wash of overwhelming feelings. You moved back to the other side and bit him again, but this time you bit too hard that he winced and let go of his grip on your waist.

You flinched at his reaction and immediately felt regret. Your eyes flickered to the window, and you noticed how quickly the sun was setting, so before Jay could say anything you jumped to your feet and ran out of your chambers.

“Princess!”

Your feet took you to the farthest room in the castle and you quickly entered it, locking the door behind you. You leaned back on it and started sobbing, thinking of how foolish you were to even entertain the idea of marrying Jay in your condition. You slumped to the floor and sobbed, ignoring the banging on the door and Jay’s distraught voice begging you to let him in.

“Please leave, Jay.”

Your voice was weak and almost a croak, and you figured it was because of all the crying. But then Jay also stopped knocking on the door, and you heard rustling and a couple of soft taps by the keyhole.

“Princess? I can hear you.”

You almost choked on your own sob at Jay’s obvious remark, but then you paused, and you heard him speak again.

“Look out the window, Princess.”

The sun had set, and you could not believe your eyes. You held up your hands, your fingers, in front of you before you touched your own face to feel your nose, your cheeks, and your lips. Then you checked outside again, making sure your mind was not playing tricks and that you really had not transformed.

You heard another knock on the door and without waiting for another word you opened it. The look on Jay’s face was that of relief mixed with adoration, and he did not waste any time walking towards you to pull you into his embrace. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, staining his skin with your tears and letting him wrap his arms around you as tightly as he could.

You felt him tug one of your sleeves and you pulled back to look at him. He brought his hand up to caress your face, wiping the remaining tears off your cheek.

“Marry me, Princess.”

You answered by inching your face closer to his before nodding slightly and kissing him on the lips. You tasted his sigh right after, loving the way his arms wrapped around you again as you pulled him even closer by the neck. He shut the door behind him with his foot and moved you towards the bed, carefully guiding you all the way as he placed his hand on the small of your back, not even once pulling away from the kiss.

The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you both stopped, pulling away to catch your breath and to undress yourselves. Jay pulled his top off quickly while you struggled with your corset, so he gently shoved your hands away so he could undress you himself. When he pulled all of your clothes down to pool at your feet, you could feel his breath against your thighs, and you almost lost your balance if he did not place his hands on your hips.

Jay began kissing your core without warning and you whimpered at the sudden warmth. Just moments ago, you were biting his neck like he was your prey, yet now you are watching him devour you, his face in between your legs as you struggle to even keep your eyes open. At one point, the way his tongue was pressing on your clit made you pull on his hair a little too tight, and when he looked up at you, he grinned before licking his top lip.

You sat down on the bed and pulled him in by his shoulders, and he began to lay you down before he settled over you. He got rid of the last of his clothes and you could feel his tip graze your bottom lips.

“Jay, wait,” you whispered, placing a palm over his chest.

He leaned into you to give you a soft peck on the cheek. “Yes, Princess?”

You chuckled and began caressing his face with one hand. “Do you even know my name?”

Jay let out an airy but silent laugh, burying his face in your neck. “Do you really think I would stay for so long in this castle without knowing the name of the residents? You know my name even without me telling you.”

You rested your thumb on his cheek and the rest of your fingers behind his ear, making him face you again. He moved his face to kiss your palm.

“Then call me by my name,” you requested. “And I shall chant yours like it’s my favorite spell.”

Jay smirked before leaning in to kiss your lips. “Very well then,” he whispered into your mouth, “Y/N.”

You felt him ease into you with a gentle force, and he caught your gasp between his lips. You held on to his shoulders as he began thrusting in and out of you, making you bring your legs up in order to feel him better.

“Slowly, Jay,” you begged him once you felt his pace was going a little too fast.

Jay grunted, seemingly unable to control his thirst for you, so you kept the pace by meeting him halfway and grinding your hips towards his. You could feel his biceps flexing as he held himself up, so you caressed his arms before you made your next request.

“Bite me.”

You brushed his hair back before you let him kiss your lips, and after that his lips traveled down to your chin and to your neck, licking you there several times before he bit you. You chanted his name as you promised, and when it was time for him to reach his high, he moaned your name right into your ear.

As you felt his seed coat your insides, you felt his thumb circling your clit for you to catch up with him. He pulled out of you only to finger his load back inside your hole, and that was how you reached your high of the night.

When Jay collapsed by your side, you became aware of the marks that you had left on his neck earlier that evening. You moved closer to him, and he welcomed you by pulling you to his side with one arm, having you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Are you sure it didn’t hurt?” You whispered, too afraid to disturb the serenity.

“Princess,” Jay began. “My princess,” he corrected himself. “Even if it hurt, I liked it.”

You snorted and tapped Jay’s cheek, and your body moved with his as he started to laugh.

“If you feel the urge next time,” he continued, “just come and leave marks on my neck.”

Jay tilted your chin up with his finger before kissing you softly, and for the first time in forever, you finally felt content.

-END-

© forjongseong 2023, all rights reserved

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!!! do NOT copy, translate, or repost any of my work to your blog or ANY other platform.

[kissami]

YOU’RE THE GOOD AND I’M THE BAD

part two

SUM: you always had a tough relationship with your family, favoritism was a big thing and we all know you were the last pick in the cherry field. Katsuki though…you were his favorite thing. Katsuki then has a moment of weakness crack through his strong exterior.

WARNINGS: family issues, thoughts of self doubt, cute katsuki, then shifts to depressed katsuki QUICCCKKK!

femreader! with she/her pronouns!

author’s note at the end of this :3

series masterlist

"I DONT THINK I've ever seen anything like this before.

Keeping her eyes still on the cereal box, Y/N ignored the way her parents were gawking at the flowers that stood all dried up and old in a water bottle near the windows of the kitchen.

"They seem pretty dead to me." She chewed her food throughly, swallowing down slowly as her parents ignored her, keeping their attention on her sister.

"How is it possible for a dead flower to create a new one in a plastic bottle...last night when I brought it out I didn't see anything strange with it but as soon as I was going to throw it out, I noticed the new stems."

Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance when her sister spoke.

Her sister annoyed her to the core no matter what she did. Maybe it was because she grew up with her older sister getting everything handed to her or maybe just the way she spoke sort of ticked her off. Like an annoying bug you can’t get rid of because you can’t find it so it’s endless buzzing continues in your space, almost in a mocking way.

"It's like new beginnings can happen anywhere, you know? This little rose was so close to dying, but this little new flower will continue its legacy."

"Oh my gosh, how much more cliche can you get? It's a fucking flower, it's natural for it to grow. Stop getting into your little dramatic theories all the time with stuff like this."

Y/N spat, placing her spoon down as she watched the way her sister bit back her remark, because deep down she knew exactly how her parents would react.

Her mother gasped, obviously shocked that her quiet child would speak like that to her poor sweet daughter who said something so beautiful.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

The younger girl held back the urge to roll her eyes as she got up and walked back upstairs to her room.

Y/N was a smart and gentle girl, but the people she lived with made it impossible for her to be truly happy.

She was used to it at this point. She would get lectured over every little thing wether it be wrong or right. Hiding away in her room was what made her feel less insane but they still had something to say about that.

"You never talk with us anymore. You're shutting us out so much, do you not love us anymore? Am I a bad mother to you?"

Every time her mother said that, it resulted in her getting yelled at by her drunk father to stop being such a burden and a bitch to her mother while her sister was busy else where.

When can I finally be happy?

Flopping onto her bed, she snuggled deeper into her sheets as a few tears went down her plump cheeks.

This poor 17 year old girl was truly going through it. Her father was rarely home but when he was, he would always remind her how miserable their lives became ever since she was born.

They were always low on money and could barely afford some things, but while her sister was busy buying things for her own benefit, Y/N was busy trying to meet ends meet, yet she was still the burden of the family.

It wasn't fair how easily her sister gotten their love. They sacrificed so much money just for her sister to throw away the things they've gotten her the next day.

She just wanted to feel like she was appreciated or cared for. Wasn't it her parents' job to support her? Her father's job to protect her from any harm but here he is, hurting her the most before any man ever did.

Didn't her mother have to give her advice on her future and given compassion that she will make it far in life instead of being shamed for being a bit (bigger/smaller) than everyone else around her and that no man would ever love her?

And her sister, wasn't her sister supposed to be her best friend who would be there no matter what? But here she is, getting backstabbed by her own flesh and blood.

Y/N was getting so exhausted. Her life was barely starting, and she was already considering leaving so soon.

Am I too...much of a burden to be loved, even by my own family?

Y/N flinched from a rough knock on her window, making her sit up and fix herself up as she saw who it was.

"Katsuki what the hell are you doing here? If my parents find out you're here..."

"Babe, shut up and let me kiss you."

❁ ❁ ❁

Katsuki groaned as he felt something slam into his stomach which resulted in him staggering back.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry, Mr! Oh wait, mama look!!! It's Mr. Dynamight!"

Katsuki looked down and sighed a bit as he saw a young girl in her tweens looking up at him in awe.

"Can I get your autograph,sir?"

"Kassie what did I say about being disrespectful. I'm so sorry, Dynamight."

He shook his head at the mother and signed the girl's journal.

He felt his heart stop as he saw it was one of (Y/N)’s books, her signature being right next to where the girl wanted katsuki to write.

Katsuki blocked out the people’s voices completely as he felt his chest rise up and down, a single tear leaving his eye which he quickly wiped away.

"Here kid." He passed the beautiful book that he had millions of, hidden away in his office, back to the little girl and quickly fled the scene.

As he walked back to his agency, he continued to feel the heavy ache in his heart.

No matter how much time had passed and the years flew by since the incident, he still heavily mourned for his first love every single time someone mentioned her.

It was stupid he thought. She was famous, he was famous, people asking him about her was bound to happen, or situations like this where he catches a glimpse of her book that wasn’t one that he owned, having to relive that she was taken so soon. She had so much to live for, her story just began.

He found it unfair how she could finish so many incredible stories yet never could finish her own.

He felt so selfish right now. He still couldn't move forward even if he had someone important in his life now and even a child of his own.

He will and always will be hers.

author’s note: well well well…hi. LOL. Sorry I haven’t updated this series in almost a year!! Holy fuck. I’m really sorry you guys, I lost inspo and just felt so lazy to edit this, but she’s here! I swear on my skittles I will get my shit together and update this series. I never realized so many ppl remembered it from my wattpad days?? That’s insane?? Thank you my pookies,I’ll try to update every week but really it just depends on how I’m feeling :3 anyways, enjoy amor mío!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Buggy, the man who craved everyone’s attention above all else, much like how a starving man would crave food or how a man dying of thirst would crave water. He wanted to be adored, fawned over, loved, the whole nine yards but all those eyes that he could only wish to have gaze upon him were rendered incomparable to having only your eyes look upon him.

So now instead of seeking to have everyone else’s attention on him, it had quickly changed to your attention being the sole thing he so desperate sought after, and it was in this instance that Buggy soon realised that the lengths he would go into getting your attention were endless. He had gotten given a taste and was now craving for more, to the extent that it had clearly became an unhealthy addiction in having you look at him and only him.

He’d oversell his injuries so that he would have you feeling sympathetic for him despite you knowing that he’s felt with a lot worse. He’d greatly over exaggerate every story he told to keep you hooked primarily on the parts that focused on him and his involvement. Buggy would even go so far as to make up more events in order of keeping you interested in him, fearing that if he didn’t then you would find another person more appealing. And even though you knew every story he told from the accounts of others you’ve come across, who remembered things a little more differently; you couldn’t help but find it adorable how hard he was trying to sell himself to you. Yet on the other hand you found it incredibly sad that Buggy felt the need to do this in order to gain your favour, even though he’s had it all along from the very start.

So imagine his surprise when you reached out to grab his hand mid story, sending an jolt of electrify up his arm, smiling as you then said. ‘As entertaining as these story are, I’d prefer to hear them from the real Buggy. The Buggy that I’ve adored from the start.’ Buggy didn’t know if he would ever hear more heavenly words then that in his entire lifetime, but seeing as he’s already weak in the knees from just you touching his hand and smiling at him, your words were the final nail in the coffin for the poor man, as he easily bent to you will and restarted the story but this time through the perspective of the real Buggy.

[marisol-holme]

The retired good girls guide for writing

I haven’t always been able to understand myself. 

I never felt like I was able to clock pure basic needs. Couldn’t tell if I was hungry or thirsty. I finished my meals early, preferring to always feel full, in a silent critic of my mother and father’s controlling rule over my life. A few bites of fuck you always left on the plate. I liked to see how far I could push it. How little I could drink, sleep, or eat, and still function. A true desert island scenario would see me lasting years; I had inadvertently trained myself for it. Except my desert island was more devoid of emotional fulfilment and attention. 

I had to get creative. I developed some interesting tendencies, sure. But mostly I just wanted to escape. Now my parents never went out, and my internal world was already tumultuous at best, so I did what anyone would do and read. I read voraciously. The ability to turn off my hunger had seeped into all areas of my life. A fugue state dissociation through most of my early years through to adolescence. But I was able to come alive when I was reading. When I read, it was like my first breath. Hungry. I could imagine these worlds and built them up easily, colourfully within my mind’s eye. I'd picture the strong female characters that I admired. I’d taste food, hear music. It was the only time I was ever able to really live, before I had to go downstairs and pretend to eat.

Unwittingly, my upbringing fostered just the correct environment for me to develop a writer’s hunger. Because a writer is always a reader before they grow mad to write. I grew mad fast. I had to. I had to create worlds for me to escape into, away from all the shouting and fighting. Alchemise what I’d read into something new and original. It helped that I was an avid daydreamer, although a psychiatrist might call me a maladaptive daydreamer, but it only ever occurred to me when I was bored. Parallel to this, I grew into shame, so what I wrote I would throw away. I sadly have none of my early works. They are long decomposed into sub-atomic and absorbable waste, probably seeped into a water system somewhere and live inside all of you. Yuck. Not even my best work. 

Then I grew up and I had no dreams because I was not hungry. I hadn’t picked up a book in a long time. I dabbled with things that made me feel warm. Partying and shallow conversations. Grotty pubs and sticky clubs. Good friends made me feel a good kind of warm. But it took me a long time to find my way back to literature. Through a work stint as a Nursery Practitioner, I found my way back into writing. You see, at the nursery we had to send updates to parents all about what their children were getting up to. I enjoyed this task and wrote the children’s days like stories. Descriptive and alive. I’d got the bug and the bug had bit me. I didn’t last long once I had started writing again and I quickly found myself working at the Ideas Foundation. 

Through my new employer, I was encouraged to trial as much as possible to find out what I enjoyed doing. I was also very privileged to have access to several creative professionals who genuinely wanted to help and mentor those younger than them. Mentors can see all your ducks and help you to get them in a row. My ducks were all over the place and needed very graceful guidance. You push my ducks too much and, well, they explode. Poof!

Speaking to seasoned professional copywriters, I was able to glean their persistent journey into the profession. The confusion I once had around my goals has seemed to have dissipated. The ability to feel hungry for life and understand myself has only grown. My spark is back. 

The excitement and giddiness I feel when I think about myself as a writer is immense. The energy can fuel me for days. I look to the bottom left of my documents and the number of words that can pour out onto a page grows and grows with each project I set myself. The possibilities as a writer seem endless from this perspective. 

I understand that there is a lot more to these dreams that simple want. I must be focused. Persistent. Take up the offers of guidance from those around me. Accepting critic and moving towards goals. But the potential is there. I understand myself a little better. I value my work a little more. Hopefully, one day in the not-so-distant future a book of mine might get thrown away and end up decomposing in the damp soil into tiny fragments that find their way into us. At least that work will be better and born of something other than the child’s will to survive and create. That would make me feel okay. 

[reyababyy]

Unearthly Love

Pairing: Za'stah (Male yautja) x Fem human reader

Summary: On your way home from school you never imagined you’d be kidnapped by an alien.

Word count: 422

A/N: First time writing for yautja so I hope I did alright. -repost from my old acc-

It all happened so fast, one minute you were walking home from school and the next you were tossed into a cage by this alien creature and taken onboard a spaceship.

Your captor barely even spared you a glace, for the whole duration of the trip you were stuck in the stupid cage with no food or water.

Once the ship did land one of the creatures walked over to the cage unlocking it before grabbing your arm harshly dragging you out. “Ow! That hurts asshole!” You shouted at it.

The yautja ignored you dragging you once more off the ship towards the palace. There was no point in fighting, the brute was much taller and stronger than you, not to mention the sharp claws.

Looking around all you saw was endless desert along with lots of homes scattering the area. In the middle of everything stood a grand palace with spaceships flying overhead.

Although the air was somehow breathable for you it felt hard to breath from how hot and humid it was. Passing by homes you could feel eyes on you, almost as if they were judging you or trying to see if you were a threat.

Once making it to the palace the yautja clicked something to the guards there, they looked at you before opening the doors allowing you and your captor entry.

Walking inside your eyes widened, the walls were lined with skulls and other decor you’d consider weird having on earth.

Your captor led you down a hallway till you reached what looked like a throne room, there were two large chairs inside with one being empty and one seating another of the large creature.

The seated yautja clicked its mandibles talking to your captor, said captor eventually let you go shoving you forward towards the other one before turning and leaving.

“Fucking jerk” you spat before giving your full attention to the creature infront of you, unlike your captor he did not have a mask. You had a clear view of his face, one that most people would be frightened of.

The yautja moved his arm infront of him clicking the object on his arm before speaking “Welcome little ooman.” His voice was rough as he stared at your small frame.

Sensing your nervousness the yautja began with introducing himself as Za'stah, an elder yautja. He then started explaining how you were brought here for an upcoming hunt along with other humans.

If you survived you’d be let go, if not well, you already know.

[gyllenhaalstories]

FIREWORKS — JOHN KINLEY 🎆

summary: does john ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind, wanting to start again? yeah, probably. but this fic isn't about john's existential crisis. it's about keeping his mind occupied during the fireworks of the 4th of july.

warnings: smut (teasing, masturbation, fingering, edging, orgasm control, penetration, outdoors sex). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2680

gifs credits: @/pedropcl (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i finally wrote for john (big thanks go to @sizzlingcloudmentality for helping me out with your amazing suggestions)! it's not the idea i've attempted to write like 4 times, but it's an idea. that's gotta count for something 🫡 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"The truck is loaded and ready to go." John's smile faded when he saw the new bags waiting for him by the front door.

"Just in case." You justified without being prompted to.

"We're leaving for the weekend, honey." He bent over to unzip one of the kaki Duffel bags, he pulled out several mismatched fuzzy socks. "We don't need all that. Wait... Is that a candle?"

You nodded proudly when he held up the glass jar. "We agreed to have a relaxing weekend getaway. Candles are relaxing. Look! That's your favourite scent too!"

He grinned at the attention and closed the bag after securing the candle deep into the clothes you packed just in case. He stood up with the bag on his shoulder. He held on the strap with one hand and grabbed yours with the other, dragging you out of the house before you came up with the idea to bring the appliances too.

John shut the tailgate and walked around the pickup truck to open your door, making sure you got in just fine. After a peck on your cheek, he closed the door and made his way to the driver's seat.

"Do you think there's gonna be a lot of traffic?" You buckled your seat belt at the same time as John did. "People go crazy around this time of year." John shot you a look that meant to say when did they not?

"We're not taking the highway." He engaged on the street and made a few turns you did not recognize as your usual route.

You trusted him. He knew his away around endless deserts and bushy hills, this would be no different especially since John had helped you to plan this weekend getaway. You found a secluded Bed and Breakfast, hours away from the house. It seemed cozy, you were lucky to reserve a room during the busy weekend.

The village was so small, there was not a single activity planned for the Fourth of July. You could have told him you were both going camping without electricity or running water and he would have accepted the invitation. He would have accepted anything just to escape.

Your mind wandered while John kept driving into the sunset. You wondered what food they would serve for breakfast, what the backyard would look like. You hoped they had a garden. You wondered if this would become a yearly tradition, where the managers would recognize you and fold your towels into pretty swans before your arrival. You hoped it did. You wondered what John was thinking about, you turned your head to admire him.

He felt your gaze on him, he grinned. "Everything alright? Did we forget something?" He marked a pause, he turned on a different road. "Let me guess, you wanted to bring the lawn mower?"

"We don't even have a lawn mower."

"Shit, we forgot to buy one?" He chuckled. "The trip is ruined."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. A rare treat. A smile lingered on his lips, growing wider when he set his hand on your thigh. Your hand covered his and your eyes did not leave his handsome face for dozens of miles.

He could feel you were getting bored. He was too, quite frankly. At a certain point, the scenery blended into one blurry painting of trees and run-down houses. He knew the destination was well worth the hours of driving, but he would not despise a change of view. In the meantime, John distracted himself with caresses and squeezes on your thigh. One moment his hand was down to your knee, but then it would move back up and his fingers would attempt to disappear between your thighs.

You shifted on your seat, trying not to let those touches get to you too quickly. You still had a long way to go, but if John kept teasing you it would be impossible to resist. His hand hovered until you settled down so he could place it back on your thigh with a firm grip. You spotted a lonesome traffic light in the distance.

"Is everything alright?" John asked again, glancing in your direction with a faint frown.

"It will be soon." You said with a smirk that did not go unnoticed.

John looked ahead, squeezing your thigh harshly. His hand pushed further up, but you closed you legs around him too tight to let him move. He scrunched his nose at the sudden, but small, frustration.

Your prayers for the green light to turn red were heard and you unbuckled your seat belt as soon as the truck went immobile. "Unlock the door." You demanded.

John did not budge, pretending he did not hear you.

"Unlock the door, please."

The lock clicked. You slid down the passenger seat, your skirt riding up while you did so. John watched you while you slammed one door, opened another. He turned his head while you clumsily climbed on the back seat of the truck.

"Nothing wrong with being the passenger princess," You answered the question he did not dare to ask. "I just wanted a little more space."

His face was still lit up by a bright red hue when you found a comfortable position. John put two and two together, indulging in your shenanigan without any hesitation. He focused on the road again, darting his eyes on the rear view mirror. "A little more to the left," you scooted. "Perfect."

The light turned green and the engine roared while John kept driving. You pulled on the the seat belt so it was loosely attached around you, giving you plenty of room to move. You spread your legs open, finding a position that was both comfortable for you and easy to admire for John.

"You're playing with fire." John scoffed.

"No, I'm trying to distract you from the fireworks." You corrected him and earned a grin in response. "The least you can do is say thank you."

"I'll thank you when I'll be satisfied with my distraction." You leaned forward, a playful slap landed on his shoulder. "Hey!" He adjusted the mirror so it hit the right angle, then he winked at you.

You sat against the large back seat. You ran your hands over your thighs, in the places John had touched. "How much time do we have left?"

John flicked his wrist, trusting his military watch more than the clock of the truck. "About an hour." He estimated based off the number of miles indicated on the last road sign.

Your fingertips drew abstract patterns on the inside of your thighs, approaching close to your core. You hummed, thinking about a plan to make the fun last. Your breath hitched when you reached the wet fabric of your panties.

John's breath hitched too when he caught a glimpse of you, staring at him while you pushed your panties to the side. He missed what happened next as the road became sinuous for a moment.

You brought your middle finger to your lips and licked it, eyes still glued on your man. The pad of your wet finger pressed on your clit. You moaned out his name while you began to rub in circular motions.

He caught you while your head fell against the back of the seat. His own jaw dropped slowly while he watched the expression on your face as you picked up the pace. The pickup veered into the other lane for a quick second, John straightened it up.

You stopped abruptly. "Be careful." You warned him.

"You're being dangerous." He warned you, too. He gave you time to settle down, to get further lost into your pleasure after your heart had skipped a beat in fear.

He stared ahead, now you were the one watching him. You watched as John blinked slowly. As his knuckles turned white from the tight grip on the steering wheel. As his Adam's apple bopped while he swallowed thickly. As a loose strand of hair escaped the sunglasses perched up on his head.

His voice drew you out of your fixation. You made him repeat himself.

"You're not cumming 'til i say so." Somehow, that did not make you stop. You rubbed more, more, more, and you pulled away right on the edge of your orgasm. "Good luck with that, babe. 'Cause we both know you won't last."

You exhaled, coming down from your first edge. "We both know you won't last either."

John's silence proved you right. Though he showed more patience and restraint than you expected. He coaxed you through some of your edges, reminding you to pull away at the right time and telling you that "you look so fuckin' pretty for me, that's it, fuck yourself good".

The more praise you earned, the harder it became to hold back. His words toyed with your mind, making it so incredibly difficult to not give in. To listen to his order and not cum until he commanded you to. This particular edge gave you a rough time, your fingers barely stroked your clit that you were about to burst into an explosive orgasm. You tensed on your seat, eyes shut and with a breath stuck.

John glanced at the mirror and saw you. He saw you were about to tip over the edge. It was written all over your face that you could no longer resist your own release. "Don't you fucking dare." He clenched his jaw and pulled over in a swift turn of the steering wheel. You shifted in your seat, causing you to stop at the perfect time. "You're not cumming. Not without me." He put on the brakes and lost no time to get out of the vehicle.

"Took you long enough." You spoke when the door opened before you. John reached into the car to remove the seat belt. He gave you a stern look that made you smile from ear to ear. He was just so fun to mess around with, until he was not... But you did not feel like pushing his limits too much tonight. You could save that for another time.

John helped you to scoot closer to the edge of the seat, he stopped you from closing your thighs together. Finally, he could touch what he had been craving. His fingers worked you close to another edge. And another. And another. Until you were writhing for him on the seat, until he was sure you had left a damp spot on it. He wanted to test your limits, just a bit, just for fun.

"No, no, no." You gripped on his forearm, trying to pull him away.

He grunted in satisfaction, you followed his command and he did not even need to remind you. "That's my good girl." He captured your lips with his, his beard tickled your skin. Like a magnet, he attracted you out of the pickup until your feet met the ground.

His tongue explored your mouth while his hands gripped on your hips. The second you pulled away to catch your breath, he made you spin on your feet. The buckle of his belt rattled while he rushed to pull down his pants and underwear just below his ass.

You bunched up your skirt for him, propped your leg up on the step. You earned a low, rumbling grunt as a reward when he pushed his cock in your wet pussy. In return, you moaned out his name again and caused him to bottom out inside of you.

"Got yourself ready for me, huh? Is this what you wanted all along?" The bruising grip of his rough hands on your hips made you wince. "You wanted to get fucked by the side of the road like a whore." He pulled out, then rammed himself all the way back in. "That's so cute."

His left hand abandoned your hip to travel up your sides then your shoulder. Until he found the back of your head, he pressed you down against the seat. With his other hand, he guided you to meet his thrusts. At any moment, someone could drive by. Not that you had seen many cars thus far, but it was a possibility. It added a whole new dimension that both John and you found pleasure in.

The show you gave him from the back seat, paired with palming himself over his pants, had gotten him riled up to the point he knew he would not last long. He wasted no time and enjoyed the feeling of your clenching walls to the fullest.

"Just like that! Keep... Fuck! Keep going." You snaked a hand underneath your body until your fingertips reached your clit, barely brushing over it to take you closer to your release.

Suddenly, John’s thrusts stopped. He turned his head to the side and watched as the sky was illuminated in the distance by red, white and blue fireworks. He took a second to admire them then he continued to fuck you, picking up the pace. So that you would moan louder. And louder. And louder. Until you were all he could hear.

The skin of your ass slapped against his thighs, adding to the obscene sounds. Your noises covered up the explosions of the fireworks.

"Thank you." John broke the silence, slowing down. He dragged his hips back and forth, making you feel every inch of him.

"What for?" You mumbled. You revelled in the way John’s cock stretched your tight pussy. Your slick walls clenched on him even more.

He punctuated his thrusts with grunts. He leaned forward, pressing down on your back and trapping you against the car seat. He whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "For being a good distraction."

"Good enough to let me cum?" Your voice cracked.

"Damn right." John smiled on your cheek while he pressed a kiss on it. "Cum for me, let me feel you."

The sky turned pitch-black again as if nothing happened. As if the fireworks travelled all the way to your core while you came for John. Stars spun around your head, you still saw them when you closed your eyes.

John saw them too when he spilled his cum inside of you, coating your walls white. He stilled, replacing the sound of your skin slapping by his addictive grunts of pleasure. Slowly, he stood up straight, careful not to his his head against the door frame. He was even more careful when you did the same, his hand protecting the back of your head.

"Well..." You chuckled, coming down from your high. "The whole point was to avoid the fireworks. Should we just cancel and drive back home?" You would be disappointed not to visit the Bed and Breakfast, but you would understand if John preferred to stay home.

The unpleasant thought of unpacking the multitude of bags you lovingly forced him to bring along crossed his mind. His lips curled into an upside-down smile. "Let's just keep driving." He glanced down at your wrinkled skirt. His hands disappeared under them to rip your panties from you as you gasped at the gesture. With a proud grin, he walked around the pickup and sat behind the wheel again.

You regained your place as the passenger princess. Your eyes were glued on John as he engaged back on the road. He pressed a button, the window on his left slid open. He stuck his hand out and, with a shit eating smirk on his face, he let them go. Your panties drifted through the wind.

He chuckled when you abruptly turned to look at the side mirror. You distinguished a drop of red on the blackness of the asphalt that blended with the sky. You scoffed in disbelief while your panties disappeared into the landscape.

John's hand regained its place on your thigh, more so between your thighs. He groaned at the soft, slick skin under his fingertips. He dragged his hand up until it reached the familiar heat of your core. "Yeah, let's just keep going."

[stickywhiteash]

Down with the Sickness // Kakashi x Reader

Warning: None! Only fluff

An hour ago you were in a deep peaceful slumber. Nothing in the world could have disturbed you; that is, until your alarm to take your medications screamed at you. Every ten minutes it sounded off, blaring into your eardrums and every time you ‘woke’ back up a cough followed by sniffling came with.

You‘ve been sick for 3 days now and it doesn’t seem to get better. You writhe in agony from the body aches and fever.

A pill or two with some water would ease your pain, but the glass is empty. Dry swallowing the pill is an option; however, you’d face the chance of it not going down properly and tasting the bitter medicine melting in your mouth. Getting up to refill the glass is would be another option if it weren’t for the fact that outside your warm cozy covers awaits a cold cruel world. Thus your current predicament of snoozing the alarm for an hour straight whilst falling half asleep every time.

With all of your whining underneath the blankets, you miss the front door’s handle jiggle a couple of times before opening wide.

Kakashi steps into your home with an arm full of groceries. The first thing he notices is how the place looks barely lived in. Last he recalled, you weren’t on a mission for the past week. Placing the food on the counter, he investigates where you could be. On cue, your alarm goes off again, drawing his attention to the room at the end of the hallway.

An endless amount of tissues scatter all over the place, coupled with a few take out boxes, and plastic bags. The giant lump shivering in the middle of the bed catches his eye. Hand reaching out, he pets you as if you’re a house cat.

His sudden touch jolts you upright, swinging the covers off. Your fist narrowly misses Kakashi.

“Woah,” he heartily chuckles, “Still feisty as ever”

“What’re you doing here..?”

“Making sure you’re still alive. I haven’t heard from you in a while—“

Coughing in between words, you sarcastically reply, “You’re worried about little old me? That’s sweet.”

Kakashi places the back of his hand on your forehead, confirming his suspicions. You wrap yourself tightly with the blankets, now feeling the chilly air you accidentally exposed yourself to.

Pulling you into a warm embrace, he asks, “When’s the last time you ate or showered”

You lean into the hug, taking in his scent. “Can’t recall.. I really don’t feel so good.”

“Mm. Well that won’t do!”

Blanket ripped off your body, he picks you up off the bed. You cling on to him tightly, asking what the hell he’s doing. Try as you might to fight the shinobi, your strength just isn’t there. Profanities fill the home coupled with demands to put you down.

“Here we are, Stinky.”

He places you down, feet first in the bathroom. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he closes the door before you can protest once again.

The patter of feet fade into the distance as you are left dumbfounded.

‘That bastard didn’t even give me clothes.’

Huffing, you turn the shower on and let it steam up the room. Once the water is scalding to the touch, you hop in and sit in the bathtub. All of the pain could not be further from the back of your mind. Eyes close, taking in the soothing feeling of the water dripping down your body. Soap carried away with your worries. Droplets hitting your back act as a little massage.

A knock on your door causes your eyes to snap wide open and look towards the source of the noise.

“Are you okay in there? You’ve been showering for quite a while. You didn’t slip and hit your head did you?”

“No I’m fine! Finishing up right now!”

Kakashi unlocks the door using his fingernail and opens it just enough to sneak in fresh clothes and a towel.

“Take your time, but I do warn your food will get cold if you take too long”

Once again the door closes, but his footsteps are drowned out by the shower.

After getting changed, you head out to the kitchen where you find Kakashi leaning against the wall, reading his favorite literature. He looks up at you then place it on top of the table.

“You’re alive. I was worried the sickness had over taken you in the bath,” he jokes, moving over to you.

“Do you really think so lowly of me?”, you reply, feigning hurt.

“Of course not. You’re the strongest person I know.” Kakashi wraps his arms around you and plants a kiss atop your head. “And now, you’re not the stinkiest person I know.”

“Hey!” You attempt to break out of his embrace but he only squeezes you tighter. “I’ll probably die by your hug before this illness gets me!”

A hearty chuckle fills the air as he lets go. Another smooch is placed on your cheek. “I’d kiss you on the lips, but I really don’t plan on catching whatever you have,” Kakashi says, pulling a chair for you to sit. “So are your sinuses more cleared up? If not, this soup should do the trick.”

“If you made it extremely spicy, I won’t forgive you.”

“Cross my heart, I did not.”

Flu medicine sits next to your food. Kakashi also takes a seat next to you but doesn’t start eating. Instead, he’s got this goofy look on his face as he stares at your face. All of the love and adoration in the world can be seen in his eye (and the other one too if it wasn’t closed). Even on your worst days, he’ll be by your side.

[babygirlselvinaa]

Unearthly Love

Pairing: Za'stah (Male yautja) x Fem human reader

Summary: On your way home from school you never imagined you’d be kidnapped by an alien.

Word count: 422

A/N: First time writing for yautja so I hope I did alright.

It all happened so fast, one minute you were walking home from school and the next you were tossed into a cage by this alien creature and taken onboard a spaceship.

Your captor barely even spared you a glace, for the whole duration of the trip you were stuck in the stupid cage with no food or water.

Once the ship did land one of the creatures walked over to the cage unlocking it before grabbing your arm harshly dragging you out. “Ow! That hurts asshole!” You shouted at it.

The yautja ignored you dragging you once more off the ship towards the palace. There was no point in fighting, the brute was much taller and stronger than you, not to mention the sharp claws.

Looking around all you saw was endless desert along with lots of homes scattering the area. In the middle of everything stood a grand palace with spaceships flying overhead.

Although the air was somehow breathable for you it felt hard to breath from how hot and humid it was. Passing by homes you could feel eyes on you, almost as if they were judging you or trying to see if you were a threat.

Once making it to the palace the yautja clicked something to the guards there, they looked at you before opening the doors allowing you and your captor entry.

Walking inside your eyes widened, the walls were lined with skulls and other decor you’d consider weird having on earth.

Your captor led you down a hallway till you reached what looked like a throne room, there were two large chairs inside with one being empty and one seating another of the large creature.

The seated yautja clicked its mandibles talking to your captor, said captor eventually let you go shoving you forward towards the other one before turning and leaving.

“Fucking jerk” you spat before giving your full attention to the creature infront of you, unlike your captor he did not have a mask. You had a clear view of his face, one that most people would be frightened of.

The yautja moved his arm infront of him clicking the object on his arm before speaking “Welcome little ooman.” His voice was rough as he stared at your small frame.

Sensing your nervousness the yautja began with introducing himself as Za'stah, an elder yautja. He then started explaining how you were brought here for an upcoming hunt along with other humans.

If you survived you’d be let go, if not well, you already know.