#[ SNAP: josephine ]

[7-ferrets-in-a-coat]

Nope, sorry girl

[deathcupcake]

Sorry, I'm apparently still in my Lucanis phase.

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

At this moment of reminiscense, Dorian and Elizabeth's eyes met, and their smiles mirrored one another as Elizabeth commented off-handedly:

"I think I'm beginning to understand that feeling."

Walking behind the two younger couples, unable to resist cooing over her sleeping granddaughter just as her mother was, June caught little snatches of the conversation, with certain remarks just happening to make her ears prick up a little more, though she never let her face show what she was thinking and feeling, to say nothing of refusing to give voice to these thoughts. As she had told Lon earlier in the month, she had her theories, but at the end of the day, whatever was on Dorian and Elizabeth Gracey's mind was theirs to announce, and she certainly wasn't going to impede upon that.

At the very least, when the party had made it back to the attic, and Randall and Emily quietly took the twins to their room for a nap, she took Elizabeth aside for a moment, venturing to say, choosing her words carefully, "Well, if you do ever feel sick again, if any nausea or soreness pops up again...please, don't hesitate to come to me. I'd like to help in any way I can."

Elizabeth studied June's face for a moment, remaining calm upon this suggestion being put to her-the matriarch's face was just as calm as her own, and there was a gentle sincerity in the way she smiled at her, to say nothing of something of a mischievous twinkle to her eye, a sort of subtle, knowing look that reminded Elizabeth of her own mother, and the looks she would give her one and only daughter when she knew something was afoot.

But even with that look, the mistress of Gracey Manor knew Mrs. June Pace was a woman she could trust, and so she flashed her an appreciative smile, saying, "If anything comes up, I'll be sure to look to you first. Thank you, June."

"Think nothing of it, Elizabeth."

[yuansie]

(1) even when there was rain, sunshine came

pairing. caleb x fem! childhood friend! non mc! reader (x childhood bsf! zayne)

synopsis. caleb planted a seed in your heart when you were both young, nurturing it without meaning to until it sprouted and blossomed. it shouldn't have grown this much, not when you knew you could never have him.

genres/aus. angst, fluff, f2l, unrequited love, childhood f2l

warnings. slight ooc caleb (i have not read homecoming or wtv that chapter is called BC BLUESTACKS DOES NOT WANT ME TO FINISH LONG AWAITED REVELRY OR WTV THAT CHAPTER IS CALLED IM STUCK ON CH12...), NOT canon compliant oops (no higher being placing a curse on zayne, no experimentation done on mc and caleb bc josephine is a good person this time BYEEEE), reader has neglectful parent(s) in the beginning kind of, mentions/descriptions of crying, mc is female (she doesn't have a name in here either). if there's anything i'm missing, please let me know!

rating. sfw but make it lowk very angsty but fluffy ish at the same time.

wc. 8.2 k

a/n. live love laugh angst (but with a happy ending) and live love laugh not proof reading and SORRY FOR NOT UPLOADING THIS EARLIERRR uni sucks booty fr !! also, i've come to the decision that i will just make this into a mini series, having about 5-10 chapters maximum !! the ideas keep coming, and i'd like to take a different approach to this prompt/world i've build for this nonmc! reader in an actual caleb series much like my rafayel one! also decided to make it into a mini series bc i cant keep writing and expanding on this and leave yall hanging for longer IOEOIFJAWEOI

YOU’RE EIGHT YEARS OLD WHEN YOU MEET CALEB. it was in the last days of summer, right before the leaves began turning red and yellow and orange. you remember your dad telling you that an older lady moved into the house across from yours, that there two kids living with her: a girl younger than you and a boy your age though a couple months older. he said something about the girl having a special condition but the words went through your ear and out the other because you didn’t care about them; you knew you wouldn’t talk to them anyways.

then, your dad left to go to work and you were all alone.

you were always alone, and you felt that loneliness every second, acutely aware at how it bleeds into your soul and makes you so, so sad. it’s what makes you head to the park two houses down the street and sit at the big, oak tree there. your favorite thing to do is climb it and sit on one of the bigger branches around its middle, feeling as if you could reach the sky and escape these heavy feelings. you blame your dad for making you like this: for making you think that the heavens can help you escape your heavy feelings. he told you once, on a night where he was in charge of tucking you in while your mom worked late at the hospital, that he loves the sky and how it makes him feel like all of his worries are nothing but a speck of dust. he made you think that one day, you could reach the sky and feel what he felt. if you reached out enough, you would be free.

but today you had no energy to do that.

as soon as you reached the oak tree, you sat down and rested your back against the trunk. your eyes watered instantaneously, cold tears dripping down your cheek and to the tip of your chin as you tucked your knees into your chest, your arms holding them in place so they could keep your weeping heart warm. you were so lost in your overflowing sorrow that you didn’t notice a boy running to the tree, not even when he stood three steps away from you.

“why are you crying?”

you snapped your head upwards.

the boy looked surprised, his purple eyes as large as the moon as he stared at you. his back was to the sun, covering him in a golden glow. he didn't say anything as he knelt down, his brows furrowed.

you hiccuped and looked away, angrily staring at your house from where you sat. “go away, stranger.” you see the older boy that lives next door when you avert your gaze from your home. it’s zayne—you recall your mom telling you that you used to have playdates together when you were younger. obviously, you don’t anymore. you don't even speak to one another—perhaps, he thinks being friends with a girl two years younger than him is not worth his time.

you don’t blame him for thinking that; after all, your own parents probably think the same.

before your mind spirals into the inky void that tells you bad things, the boy speaks up. “my name is caleb! now i’m not a stranger, right?” you glance at him from the corner of your eye. caleb grins at you, his smile as bright as the sun. it’s too blinding, you decide, and drop your gaze to the ground. “i guess not…” you mumble.

“so that means we’re friends!” caleb laughs when you quickly look at him again, surprise evident in your features. “now you can tell me why you’re sad!”

you wrack through your brain to come up with an excuse and end up stuttering out, “b-but you don’t know my name!”

“you’re y/n, right?” he laughs again when your jaw drops in comical way, gasping for air in between his next words. “ha! g-gran… talked t-to your… parents!” caleb wheezes, tears in his eyes. “y-your parents told us about you!” once he calms down, caleb lets out a sigh as he sits next to you, nudging your shoulder. “c’mon, you can tell me why you’re so sad now.”

you look back at your house, frowning at how lonely it looked. “i… i don’t think my parents love me.”

“what?”

“i mean,” you rest your head on your knees, your voice now muffled. “they’re never home and they never spend time with me.”

your dad is often away, being the colonel and all, which means he’s gone for months at a time. it wasn’t always like that, but things changed when that forsaken tunnel appeared above the city. your dad was one of the first to answer the call, to fly in the sky to protect the world from wanderers. so it isn’t his fault and neither is it your mom’s that they’re never there. she’s a doctor, a colleague of your next door neighbor's parents.

it is not your fault they are both needed by more people and by more important matters.

caleb’s about to say something when a girl calls out his name, running until she stands in front of you two. you don’t pay attention to her, and instead keep your eyes focused on your house. you wish your parents were home more, that they’d spend more time with you. the girl ends up leaving after she speaks to caleb, who watches her go with a careful eye.

“sorry about that,” he says, scratching his cheek. “gran sent her to tell me it’s time for lunch, but don’t worry! i’ll stay here with you until your parents are back!”

you blink at him, feeling your eyes start to burn. “you’ll stay?”

“mhm!” he smiles, and this time you actually don’t turn away. caleb laughs softly, leaning forwards to wipe away at the tears that fall from your wide eyes. “why are you crying again?”

you didn’t even notice that you had stopped in the first place. “i-i don’t know.” you do know.

it's the first time someone ever stayed with you in a long time.

caleb, surprisingly, calmed you down in a matter of seconds. he stayed with you until the sun began to set, when the blue sky became tinted by orange and pink. he made time go by fast, making you smile and laugh until your cheeks and stomach hurt. and he was surprisingly attentive, noticing immediately the way you perked up when you saw your mom’s car drive down the road and stop in front of your home.

“you ready to go now?” caleb stood up and stuck his hand out, waiting for you to grab it.

“your hand is warm,” you mumble, gripping tightly onto his hand as you lead the way back to your house.

he giggles and nudges your shoulder. “my hand is warm?”

“mhm.” it’s very warm, akin to the blankets you wrap yourself with during the cold days of winter.

and just like that you were at your front door, shyly waving goodbye before going inside. the doorbell rang shortly afterwards, yet before you could open the door, your mom had already done so. you left and headed up the stairs and into your room, telling yourself you’ll eat something after your mom retires for the night.

but that never happens.

because the strangest thing happened afterwards: your mom came up to your room and talked to you, apologizing for making you feel lonely and abandoned.

you know it was caleb’s doing: why else would your mom be like this?

without meaning to, caleb planted a seed in your heart that day.

when you’re ten, you realize that you’ve changed the slightest bit. you’re a little more outspoken, a little more confident in yourself; and your world that was once monochrome is now full of color, full of warmth and life.

you have memories where you’re laughing until your stomach hurts, where you’re learning to love apple and bake apple pies to perfection, where you’re learning to do cartwheels with the little girl while his laughter echoes in the air. it’s all thanks to caleb—he reached out to you, deciding to integrate you into his world. you’re forever thankful that he decided to talk to you two years ago, thankful that he spoke to your parents about your feelings because otherwise you would be stuck in the dark.

caleb has brought light and warmth into your life, and now you are never cold and lonely. he even sticks to you like glue at school, never leaving you alone for a second in the classroom because somehow you always manage to be in the same class as him. sometimes you grow tired of having to keep up with the energetic boy, sometimes the fatigue wearing your bones down and rendering you useless. caleb seems to know when that happens, or maybe he doesn’t. what matters is that he seems to time his golden smile; it is a smile so radiant that it melts away what weighs you down.

and always being with him has made you adopt some of his habits, his attentiveness being the one that shines through the most. it’s what makes you notice your next door neighbor. days of careful glances makes you learn that he’s always reading on the porch of his house or he’ll do the same inside by the window, that he’s never with any other kids his age and that he’s never at the park.

maybe you should talk to him and—

“y/n~” caleb nudges your shoulder. you jerk in surprise and wobble on the tree branch you both sit on, gripping tightly onto the wood while you lean forwards from your lack of balance. the boy yelps and takes a firm hold of your arm, stabilizing you. “you scared me!”

you huff, glaring at him. “you scared me! i could've fallen just now, dimwit.”

he pouts, “but that's your fault! you weren't listening to me.”

“yes i was!”

“oh yeah?” caleb raises an eyebrow. “then what was i saying?” he snickers when you don't reply, gently nudging your shoulders this time because he learns from his mistakes, you know! “see? i was right. you keep staring over there.” he gestures in the general direction of where you keep staring. his finger touches the green leaves of the tree, the tips fading into a yellow color.

autumn is coming. not yet, but it will be there in due time.

you decide to tease him a little. “pft, you’re pointing at the leaves.”

his lips curl into a frown. “you know what i—”

“caleb!”

the eight year old girl comes running up to the tree, huffing as she points up at your best friend. “i-it’s time for dinner!” she tilts her head over at you, beaming. “gran said you can come, sis!”

caleb looks at you, “you coming?”

you smile at the girl before shaking your head, moving towards the tree trunk. “i need to do something,” you grunt, shimmying down whereas he just jumps off the branch and lands with a thud. the girls gasps and you gape at him with wide eyes once your feet hit the ground, “are you okay?”

“a-okay!” he grins, standing up proudly as if he didn’t just scare the living daylight out of you. caleb flexes a boney arm, “i’m strong, after all!”

“yeah, okay hercules.” you chortle, rolling your eyes. “i’ll see you around.”

you watch as he and she wave goodbye at you, caleb hooking their arms together as they disappear into their house afterwards. you notice that there's a tightness in your chest when you see them hold hands or hook their arms together—it happens sometimes, not always. like right now: your chest tightens a little, feeling heavy. you chalk it up to wanting to do that with caleb one day and go your merry way.

your mom is startled when she opens the front door just as you reach out for the doorknob. she holds a container with cake inside. “goodness,” she chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “you scared me.”

“are you going next door again?” you move to the side so your mom can walk out.

she hums, “i am! i left some—”

“can i come this time?” you usually don't go to the dinners your mom has with zayne’s family every friday, always heading to hers and caleb’s house instead despite your mom’s best efforts in convincing you to join her. you always had an inkling that she wanted you to spend time with the older boy next door.

your mom beams at you so wide that you’re taken aback as she drags you to the li’s front door. did it really mean that much to her that you want to join this time? well, you’re on a mission to get close to zayne so that he can have friends too.

speaking of the devil, the door opens immediately after your mom presses the doorbell, revealing the older boy. his eyes widen the slightest bit when he sees you, though he quickly regains composure, his features relaxing. with a small smile, he greets your mom. “hello, mrs l/n.” he directs his gaze at you next, “hi y/n.”

you blink in surprise. “…hi zayne.” you didn’t expect him to remember you because you don't particularly remember much about him.

he steps aside just as his mom appears from behind, momentary shock melting into a warm smile. “y/n! i’m so happy to see you! will she be joining us?” her eyes flit up to your mom, who nods excitedly.

you’re ushered inside and into a seat not even a second after being welcomed in. “we always have a plate and cutlery out in case you stop by,” mrs li says. a lump forms in your throat and it’s hard to swallow. you feel awful, knowing that every time you chose to stay with caleb, the li family had hope that you’d stop by and eat with them.

still, you somehow manage to smile at the older lady. “i’ll make sure to come with my mom from now on.”

“really?”

you nod. “of course,” holding out your pinkie, mrs li laughs and hooks her own with yours. “i promise.”

mrs li heads into the kitchen with your mom, leaving you and zayne alone at the dining table. he sits in the chair next to you and you fidget in your seat, not sure how to break the stifling silence. what would caleb do in this moment? he’d probably say something stupid or just go ahead and ask to be friends… that’s something only he could do easily, but for you? that’s a challenge.

“you look worried.” zayne says, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

you frown and play with your fingers, “was it that noticeable?”

zayne hums as the two moms come back with pots of food while chatting about your dad. “you aren't doing a good job at being subtle.”

his comment makes you huff through your nose, the corners of your lips curling upwards. caleb says that to you all the time, claiming that you make it is easy for him to read you.

“smiling suits you.”

you stop breathing and stare at the boy with raven hair, slowly blinking while the moms plate the food and continue talking. zayne glances at you again and then looks at his plate, eyebrows furrowed as he picks up a fork and pokes at the carrots, nudging them into a corner. “did i say something wrong?” he mumbles.

he didn't say anything wrong… it’s just that no one has said that to you. not even after your change, even if it was a small one.

not even caleb.

you shake your head, “no.” coughing, your eyes shift to his hands, seeing how he stabs the last carrot on his plate and places it in the corner along with the rest. “you… you still don’t like carrots?” you vaguely recall a memory from when you were about five: you and zayne were eating a plate of oranges when he suddenly spat it out and a chewed piece of carrot was then laying on the table. his mom had cut small pieces of carrot inside his bowl alone with the oranges, trying to trick him into eating them.

zayne’s hazel eyes widen. “you remember?”

with a snort, you answer, “you spit out the carrots every time your mom tried tricking you into eating them. that’s pretty hard to forget, if you’re asking me.”

his ears flush the lightest shade of pink, making you giggle as your fingers wrap around his plate, rotating it. with your other hand, you grab your fork and take his carrots.

“…thank you.”

“i should be thanking you,” you hum, “i love carrots.”

whereas you and caleb are polar opposites and only have a thing in common, you and zayne are not. you’re so alike: reserved and quiet, both sticking to what you deem is the vicinity of your personal bubble. it was easy to befriend him again; by the end of what remained of summer, you had introduced him to caleb and her. it did take a month and a half of convincing, of relentless pleading that convinced zayne to follow you to the park where she and caleb were playing as usual.

caleb and zayne didn't get along well right off the bat, and they always argued. it took you aback in the beginning, not used to seeing caleb argue so… pettishly with someone. much less with zayne. zayne baffles you every time he mutters under his breath about how caleb is ‘so annoying’ because all he does is talk about dinosaurs or is ‘a child’ during friday dinners at his house. well, he is a child, so he’s not wrong there. but with that logic, he should also be calling you a child and yet he doesn’t.

zayne does, however, get along well with her.

you see it in zayne’s attentiveness to the young girl, you see it in the way his voice softens when he speaks to her, and you see it in the way he hangs onto her every word as if it were something sacred.

you also see it in the way his ears sometimes turn the lightest shade of pink when he speaks to her.

when you think about it, they’re both alike in that way.

the sun is in the sky, bright and warm like the boy next to you.

“he’s trying to steal her from me,” grumbles caleb. he swings his legs back and forth while the two of you sit on a tree branch, zayne and the girl sitting underneath on the other side of the tree. she’s teaching him how to braid a crown of flowers, and you can see the small curl of his lips. he’s smiling a shy sort of smile only reserved for her.

“he can’t steal her from you because she isn’t an object.” you tear your eyes away from them and focus on the brooding boy beside you, taking note of how he pinches his brows together and pouts, mumbling something under his breath. while the branches and its leaves provide good shade from the sweltering heat, there is still sunlight that peeks through gaps, and golden specks manage to coat caleb’s figure. “that means you can’t have her either, cal.”

your words have him turning to you quickly, his eyes wide. “i can’t have her?”

“of course not!” your silent admiration of seconds ago dissipates as you scoff, flicking his forehead. he yelps as you continue, “she’s a person! you can’t have people; that’s weird.”

“but that monster is stealing my best friend!”

you frown, blinking once. “zayne isn’t a monster.” but caleb sure seems like one at the moment, you think. a monster of green envy.

“yes he is!”

“zayne is not a monster.” you repeat, irritation beginning to bubble in your chest because caleb wouldn't be saying such things if he didn't have this weird rivalry going on with zayne. “don’t say that about him.”

“why are you defending him anyways?” caleb narrows his eyes at you. “you’re supposed to be my friend—”

friend. best friend. you realize he hasn't ever really called you his best friend because she’s his best friend while you think he's yours. if he doesn't think that of you, then you can’t think that of him… right?

you both whip your heads to the ground, clambering down the tree as zayne calls out both yours and caleb’s name. if his voice hadn’t betrayed the frantic feeling swirling in it, maybe you wouldn’t have this overwhelming sense of dread. when you both round the tree trunk, you see that his face is pale, and he’s holding onto her. she’s trembling, her face paler than zayne’s as if all the color had been drained from her features, and she’s heaving and trembling uncontrollably. the sight makes your stomach drop to the ground as caleb dashes forwards, dropping to his knees while yelling about getting granny josephine to them. you honestly don't remember running to their house, asking josephine to help the little girl—it’s all a blur. all you can remember is how the two boys finally had something in common other than their care for the younger girl: their expression.

they were both horrified.

and you wonder if you looked like them.

your eleventh autumn was just like any other, but this time it was different because of him.

you decided to stay the night after having dinner at zayne’s so he could help you study for your science test on monday. caleb would have been the one helping you, being in the same classes and all, but he was helping her study. while you do love and care about her, you care more about your grades because surely the tests in middle school are harder than the ones in elementary, right?

you’ve been inside zayne’s room before. more often than not, after dinner, you’d end up in there with him while talking about everything and nothing. sometimes you’d both be quiet, content with just being next to each other while reading a book on his bed, and sometimes you both would talk about current hobbies and interests.

“where will you sleep?” zayne’s voice comes from near his bed while you head towards his desk.

“in your bed, duh.” your eyes skim over the surface, chuckling at how tidy it is… until your eyes fall on a haphazardly hidden pieces of paper underneath zayne’s stack of notebooks. weird, you think. zayne likes keeping notebooks, books, and papers separate from each other.

“why would you sleep in bed with me?” he asks.

“we used to sleep in the same bed when we were children.” which is true: your moms have a photo book with evidence in it from your younger days together. “i don’t see why we can’t if we’re still children.”

you hear him huff through his nose. he’s probably pinching it right now. “you’re eleven and i’m thirteen. you’re a child and i’m a teenager.”

“didn’t you say that teenagers are fourteen-year-olds and up the other day?” your fingers wrap around one of the notebook’s spine, carefully lifting it and whatver notebooks are on top and pull the pieces of papers out.

your eyes scan the contents of one of the pages, highlighted words aiding in your understanding of what it is that you’re reading. medical school… majors… he’s looking at colleges.

“well, yes.”

you turn around and hide the papers behind you. “so that means we can share the same bed, right?”

zayne sighs, shaking his head while his lips curl upwards just the slightest bit. “you win this round, miss know-it-all.”

you grin at him and bring the papers out. “you sure i’m a know-it-all?”

the older boy stares at the papers you wave in the air, staying silent as if trying to find the words to explain something to you. you raise your eyebrows. “staying silent makes you look like you were hiding something from me.”

“well… i am. was, i was.” zayne corrects himself and sits down at the edge of his bed, patting the space next to him. you take a seat and eye him. “i’ve been trying to tell you this past summer that… well…” he sighs. “i skipped grades.”

“oh—” you gasp, eyes widening to the size of saucers. “so this means…”

majors.

medical school.

he’s grad—

he exhales slowly. “i’m graduating from high school this year.”

you feel the world go still. you hear your breathing. you feel cold. suddenly, you feel deep and heavy dread wash over you.

after this year, zayne will leave.

your best friend is leaving you.

“why are you crying?” zayne panics, clumsily wiping the tears you didn’t know were falling down your cheeks. the pad of his thumb is a little rough against your skin, but his touch is soft. he’s trying to be gentle, and it makes you feel more gloomy.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, hiccupping as you look down at your hands, watching the tears he doesn’t manage to wipe away fall onto them. “it’s just…” do you tell him? that you don’t want him to leave you alone? sure, caleb is a great friend but you’ve come to realize, since the incident last summer, that she will always be his top priority and—

majors. medical school… her.

“you’re doing this for her, aren’t you?” your voice is quiet.

you love her, you do. she’s like a little sister, and you obviously care for her like they do. but they care more, they love her more. you don’t quite understand the intensity of their love for her. and despite their burning ardor in wanting to be there for her and how it always ends up making you invisible, you can’t bring yourself to ever hate her. she’s innocent, just living her life while the two boys flock to her. she didn’t ask for their attention or love, it’s just that she’s so easy to love.

“…don’t tell her.” zayne’s hands fall from your cheeks and grab onto your hands. his touch is cold, unlike caleb, but it doesn’t make you flinch away from him. you let him take your hands into his, holding them carefully. “please.”

you huff through your nose. “if that’s what you want,” you answer. “it isn’t my place to tell them, anyways.”

it’s quiet, peaceful almost if you weren’t so caught up in the sinking feeling your chest. your heart just sinks and continues to sink in black ink, growing heavy. zayne’s voice timidly calls out your name. “you’re still crying. there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“i don’t want you to leave.” because if he leaves, you’re afraid that you’ll have to admit the ugly truth you know, deep down, about caleb. it’s a truth that is so clear to everyone, a truth that you see every single time they’re in their own world. a world that pushes you and zayne out like the waves when they leave shore and retreat back into the ocean.

the older buy chuckles, and you look at him through your wet lashes, noting how his hazel eyes flicker with quiet care in them. “i’m not leaving yet.”

“keyword being yet,” you mumble, gripping onto his hands now. “…i’m being dramatic, aren’t i?”

zayne opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “i should be happy that you’re doing something so cool. i mean, skipping basically all of high school and graduating super early? that’s so cool… and i’m here crying like a baby over it.”

“but your reaction is reasonable,” zayne says. “i’d be upset, too, if my best friend told me all of sudden they’d be leaving at the end of the school year.”

best friend. not just friend.

“i’m your best friend?”

“naturally.” zayne responds quickly. “you know me better than anyone, just as i know you better than anyone.”

just like that, your tears stop falling and the sun peeks out from the cloudy sky inside you.

the rest of the night goes smoothly: zayne helped you study for your science test, which you both found boring after an hour because all of the questions were easy, and you spent the rest of your time talking with him. you wanted to know of his plans, what he’s thinking, about what he wants to do after graduating. you both fell asleep in the midst of your conversation, though you wake up at three in the morning because you felt weird. your own body was telling you that you forgot to do your night routine. so when you wake up, all blurry-eyed and dazed, the first thing you can see is your sleeping best friend. after a couple of blinks, your vision clears up and you’re aware that you’re close to him. in fact, you’re close enough to see and count his dark eyelashes. you pout, no way he has prettier eyelashes than i do. the thought goes away as quickly as it had formed in your mind, replaced by the icky realization that you fell asleep without brushing your teeth. so you sit up, gently waking zayne so he could do the same. when he stirs awake and stares at you with squinting eyes, he knows what you mean when all you do is wordlessly point at your mouth despite the sleepy haze of his mind. and just like that, you both silently head to the bathroom and brush your teeth next to each other, quickly going back to his bed and falling asleep once more.

when morning came, you both find yourselves staring at his mom with confusion as she giggles and repeatedly asks how you both slept during breakfast. you think she must have seen something while you both slept, though you decide to let your suspicions go when you bid the li family goodbye and head next door to your house.

mom will probably tell me about it later tonight, you think just as you shove your house keys into the lock. you push the door open and kick your shoes off your feet, sliding them to the side and slipping into your slippers when you step inside. you hear someone running down the street, and right when you’re about to close the door, you hear your name being called out.

“i didn’t see you at all yesterday!” caleb runs up to you, a bright grin plastered on his lips. with his back to the sun, he looks as if he's bathed in gold. “pips missed you, you know? what were you up to that—what’s that?”

you blink once and suddenly he’s in your bubble, burning fingers gingerly touching your eye. you close it on instinct, and he runs his thumb over your eyelid. you can see yourself reflected in his eyes from this close. his warmth seeps into your skin, and you have the urge to lean into his touch. your heart lurches and skips a beat, feeling excited and calm at the same time.

“what’s what?” you cough, taking a step back.

he frowns, his thumb now under your bottom lashes. “your eyes are red and puffy. are you sick or something? you feel oddly hot.”

oh, that’s right. you cried yesterday, and you feel as if your heart is ready to jump out of your chest and into his arms where it wishes it could be.

“i’m fine. it’s just that i watched a sad movie after dinner with zayne,” you sigh, gently pushing his fingers away from your eyes. zayne’s words echo in your head, a quiet reminder that you can't tell caleb because he’d tell her right afterwards.

caleb huffs through his nose, his lips curling into an amused smile. he shakes his head once, his purple irises reflecting the warmth he radiates. “you do cry a lot while watching movies, don’t you?” he leans back and tilts his head at you. “alright.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “alright… what?”

“even though you’re clearly hiding something from me, i believe you.” caleb pinches your cheek, the amusement in his lips softening. “i’ll see you later?”

“yeah…” you say, dazed, but shake your head quickly. “wait, what are we doing?”

caleb laughs, the hand pinching your cheek now covering his mouth, “don’t tell me you forgot that we’re supposed to study for the science test on monday?”

“about that…” you look away from him. “zayne helped me study for it last night.”

his silence has you taking a quick glance at him. caleb seems shocked and his eyebrow twitches, though it disappears and is replaced by something you can’t quite describe. a forced smile of sorts? “he helped you study?” he asks. “then what’s your verdict? will the test be easy or hard?”

you scratch your cheek, thinking. “well… even though he helped me study for a bit, i say the test is going to be very easy.”

“guess that means i won’t study.” caleb shrugs and ruffles your hair, a real smile on his lips now. “talk to you later, short stuff.”

“i am not that short, cal!” ever since he’s grown an exact inch taller than you, he acts like you're a midget now.

you watch as he waves goodbye, walking backwards for a couple steps with a laugh before twisting around and heading down the street. he’s probably heading to the small dessert shop nearby to pick up some of her favorite doughnuts—it’s what he does every saturday morning.

your twelfth autumn marks your first one without zayne.

he left at the end of summer, right as the tips of the green-yellow leaves on your favorite tree began turning a slight orange, barely noticeable. his disappearance had gone unnoticed until yesterday, half way into the fall quarter and midway into october. you’re in the middle of reading a book, one of your dad’s that he let you borrow, on his bed laying on your stomach while caleb helps her do her homework at his desk. he has a singular picture on it that he puts down whenever you're over, but you never ask why he does that.

“where is zayne?” she wondered aloud, tapping her pencil against her chin. “i haven’t seen him around lately.”

“huh,” caleb clicks his tongue in thought. “now that you mention it, neither have i.”

both their eyes land on you, though you don’t bother looking up. with practiced ease, you reply. “i haven’t seen him around.”

“but you go to his house every friday? and he’s your best friend? surely you know something.” she leans forwards in her chair, trying to get a better look at you.

“i go every friday because i made a promise to his mom,” you retort, finally looking up. with a shrug, you continue, “his mom hasn’t said anything about his whereabouts, so i’m just as clueless as you bunch.”

the girl drops it, a smile now on her lips. “your dad is coming home soon, right?”

you blink in surprise. “you remember?” you mentioned it in passing, it was when she and you were watching caleb during basketball tryouts. you told her that your dad would be coming back soon from the fleet, how you were excited to finally see him after so long.

caleb huffs a laugh through his nose, “of course she remembers, short stuff.”

you grimace, rolling onto your side and reach out to grab something in your vicinity, which happens to be a pen on his bedside, and fling it towards him. “you are literally just a couple inches taller than me, cal.” he’s actually a whole head taller than you now, and caleb's growing into his features. his cheeks have started losing their softness, his eyes a little sharper now. he has a natural, boyish charm, something that makes everyone notice him at school.

he loudly laughs, the pen stopping right in front of him before he swats it away. it lands with a clatter against the floor, somewhere in his room. with a huff, you lay on your back. “better work on that aim, short stuff~” he sings, getting up from his desk and heading over to his bed. you look up at him, your lips pursed as he pinches your cheek, purple eyes warm with mirth. his hair falls over his eyes, making its color look deeper. “how else are you going to get into the aerospace academy with me?”

you raise your brows, “you're acting as if you're already in.”

“well—”

the girl hums. “so you both want to leave me.”

just like that, caleb is back at her side and you’re all alone. “i would never leave you, pips.”

“pinkie promise?”

you watch from the corner of your eye how he wears a soft smile as they wrap their pinkies, his touch lingering.

you aren't stupid; in fact, you pride yourself in being so smart and attentive. so, you know that the tightness in your chest is because of caleb, because of the feelings you harbor for him. you aren't stupid, so you already know that caleb can never be yours, that he can never feel that way for you.

because he is hers.

with a sigh, you close your eyes and will yourself to calm your aching heart. you should be used to the ache that settles in your chest when this happens, but here you are.

later that day, right as the sun begins to set, you bid her and granny josephine goodbye. the taste of her apple pie from dinner lingers in your mouth.

“you don’t have to walk me home, cal.” you say, chuckling as you bump shoulders with him. instead of walking across the street, you walk down the sidewalk.

he hums, following you, “just let me be a good friend, short stuff.”

“you just love rubbing it in, don’t you?” you grumble, stepping into the park. your feet take you to the tree until you’re in front of it. you look behind you, raising an eyebrow at caleb. “i’ll stay here for a few minutes, so you can leave if you want.”

“i’ll stay.” at his confirmation, he moves past you, a faint scent of apples lingering in the air along with the sweet, woody smell from the oak tree as he scales up the trunk with ease. “your turn!”

“yeah, yeah.” you huff, rolling your eyes as you climb the tree and make it to the branch caleb chose to sit at. you breathe in and out slowly.

“the tunnel makes the sky look ugly.”

you snort, slightly baffled at the sudden proclamation from the boy. “where did that come from?”

“what?” caleb shrugs with a laugh, shoulders shaking slightly. “it does make it look ugly. like, really ugly.”

your quiet giggles get louder, and you throw your head back. “that is the first time i have ever heard anyone say that.” you wheeze, your laughter so strong you wobble on the branch. caleb wraps an arm around you to keep you from falling, his touch making you still instantly.

“you need to be careful,” he says. “one of these days you’re going to end up falling and i’ll fall with you.”

“if i ever fall, it’ll be because of you.” you cough and attempt to shimmy away from him, though his grip slightly tightens, preventing you from getting away.

the brunette absentmindedly taps on your arm with a finger. “i’d never let you fall… you know that.”

he’s saying that because you're his friend, and he is fiercely protective of those he cares about: the people in his inner circle. you are a part of it, you know that, and yet your heart cannot help but to stupidly flutter at the illusion of a hidden meaning behind his words.

“…it’s getting late.” which is true—the oranges and pinks of the sunset are now bleeding into a purple hue. “i should get going now.” you don't wait for him to say anything; you just climb down the trees as quickly and possible and book it to your home.

caleb is not far behind you.

stepping on the first step of your house’s porch, you stop and turn around. you’re eye to eye with caleb.

caleb wears a boyish grin on his lips, something that makes your stomach flip. “i have something for you.”

“oh? and what would that be?” the corners of your lips turn upwards.

“how about you close your eyes?” you shut your eyes, hearing intently to the boy shuffling. you feel a warmth brush against your cheek, trailing over to the back your neck. “give me a second.”

you hold your breath. caleb’s fingers work nimbly, and something cold hangs around your neck. there’s silence for a beat; he’s still close enough for you to hear his breathing until he leans away. “open your eyes.”

they flutter open at his command, and flitter down to see a necklace. there is a cloud with a wispy appearance right at the bottom, and small translucent beads hang from it in white and blue. the chain around your neck is decorated with solid white and blue beads.

“do you like it?” caleb scratches his neck, eyes carefully watching your reaction.

your voice comes out quiet, shy. “i do.”

you hear the smile in his voice. “i’ve been trying to give it to you since your birthday.”

“what?” looking up from the necklace, you blink at him repeatedly. “but my birthday—”

“i know.” he laughs softly, shaking his head. “i’ve had it since last year, and… i just didn’t know how to give it to you. i thought now would be a good time.”

i thought now would be a good time.

his words echo in your mind, and you take a deep breath. you also have something you want to give him: it’s sitting in the drawer of your desk, in a small box. “do you… do you want to come inside?”

you’ve never invited anyone inside your house, inside the walls that is your safe space. zayne is the only one who has stepped foot inside, who has made it up the stairs and into your room on more than one occasion. caleb used to bug you about that when you two first met, into the early months of your friendship. he thought it was weird that you were always over at his home while he had never gone inside yours. his complaints stopped when you introduced zayne to them—probably because he didn’t want to be around him despite the desire he had to discover what lays hidden in your home. you like to think that he finally decided to wait until you were ready to show him what’s inside.

caleb’s eyes are wide with surprise. “you want me to go inside?”

“i also have something for you.”

despite the poor lighting of the porch lamp, caleb is still akin to gold. he smiles and you turn around to unlock the front door, your heart thumping loudly in your chest. when you open the door and hold it open for him, caleb is all too quick to walk inside, following you up the stairs into your room after you shut the door. his eyes scan the inside of your room as soon as you turn on the lights, shuffling over to your desk as he stands by the doorframe. the color of your walls are a light blue, strings attached to the ceiling with paper clouds hanging at the end. he realizes there’s glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling after squinting. there’s a book shelf in the corner of your room, right besides your desk. the top shelf has a few trinkets: a small airplane, a blimp, a cap.

he assumes it's your dad’s cap, the one that goes with his uniform.

the second shelf has a couple of books, a stuffed animal in the form of a snowman, and a picture: the last one you took with your parents. last summer, you and your family took a trip to verona. in the picture, your dad has you hoisted onto his shoulders, an arm on your legs to keep you steady while the other is wrapped around your mom. everyone wears a smile, yet yours is the brightest one out of the three. caleb’s chest swells with pride, knowing he did the right thing all those years ago when he found you crying at the big oak tree.

the third shelf has a picture, one where it’s you and him. he remembers when, where and who took the picture. it was on your last day of school, your fifth grade promotion ceremony, and your mom took it. again, your smile is the brightest one. though, upon further inspection, he realizes your picture is different from the one he has on his desk. you’ve decorated it with small stickers, ones of golden and purple swirls that sit on the frame.

then there’s more books. another picture frame—is that zayne? you and zayne as children… oh, well you look at that? another picture frame of you and zayne. a recent picture, it seems, decorated in the same manner as his. he’s not sure when or where or who took this picture—

“think fast!”

caleb blinks and the flying box stills in front of him, floating in the air before it can hit his chest. “uh… why?”

“gotta be on your toes if you want to be in the aerospace academy with me.”

he laughs. “look at you, already acting as if you’re in.”

you shrug. “you do the same.”

“touché.” his eyes look down at the box. with a hum, he grabs and opens it, blinking once. inside sits a necklace, one with a small, silver sun on it with a purple gem in the middle. “…a sun?”

“you remind me of the sun.” you mumble. “you’re warm like it, too.”

caleb beams so wide his cheeks start to hurt, and there's faint blush on his cheeks that spreads to the tips of his ears. “i’m like the sun?”

“mhm.”

“funny… because i got you a cloud because sometimes you’re calm and happy, sometimes you’re gray and gloomy, and there are times when you’re like a storm.”

you stare at him, wide-eyed, and he continues. “tell me when you feel like there’s a storm in you.” he gets closer to you so that he can tap on the necklace that hangs around your neck. “so i can shine the sun on you... i will never hurt you with my warmth.”

it’s a silent promise that he’ll be there for you.

“and if you do?”

“then you can hit me!”

his fingers twitch, his foot taking a step forwards. but there’s a knock on your door before it’s pushed open. both you and caleb watch, confused.

your mom has a night shift and wouldn’t be back until morning.

caleb doesn't see a thing before you’re already leaping forwards into the arms of a man in a black uniform, his cap falling onto the ground. he recognizes the man as the one that holds you on his shoulders in the picture on your bookshelf.

your dad, the colonel of the farspace fleet.

caleb smiles to himself, his hold on the tiny box in his hands slightly tightening. he will be there for you, whenever you're sad or happy or mad.

he will be there.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist. @ellieevu @ryusjwks @llamabois @kazbrkker @1ncpst @babythotbox @angelwhizpers @miffysoo

[qinche-cvmslvt]

Taste of the Forbidden Fruit

Content Warning: 21+, SMUT, NSFW, No Plot, oneshot, Caleb, ‘Taboo’ Romance.

A/N: Look… I have a problem hahah. I ain’t a Caleb girly but I can’t help but feel with the latest story update that we’ll be seeing him again very soon. Also, I got this pic off Pinterest so credit to the OG artist! @/吉士牛牛堡

“Ah..Nngh..god..” your whispered moans fill the room, blissfully melding together with Caleb’s soft groans and grunts.

His mouth and tongue work up and down your neck, tasting your salty sweet skin.

“Shh, Pipsqueak… you’ll wake Gramma…” His voice was strained as he was desperately fighting back the urge to say fuck it and pound into you like there was no tomorrow.

As much as you wanted him to fuck hard and fast, you know you couldn’t indulge those desires, couldn’t risk Josephine finding out. You know she would be disgusted with this relationship. After all, you and Caleb grew up together, she raised you two together like siblings. Honestly, all that did was further increase the attraction between you two.

You watched him grow into this incredible handsome man and your perverted feelings for him grew along with him. Now he was here, in your bed fucking you and lavishing you, returning that burning passion he has always felt for you too.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his lower back, forcing him to be closer to you.

“Ah.. Caleb.. I want more…” you whimpered into his ear.

Caleb shuddered. God he loved seeing you like this. He’s wanted this for as long as he can remember. Hearing you beg for him almost made him come undone right then and there. His restraint fraying at an alarming speed.

His hands went to your ass cheeks and gripped the plump flesh tightly. Lifting you up and tilting your hips. He started pistoning his thick cock faster and harder.

“F-fuck.. you’re gonna be the death of me…” He groaned into the crook of your neck.

Your hands fly up to his shoulders, your fingernails marking up his soft skin. Staking your claim on his body.

“Yes..yes..fuck yes…” This new angle he found was heaven, hitting your g-spot with every stroke.

Your head falls back into the pillows as your moans leave your lips like a prayer. The coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Threatening to snap any second.

Caleb bit down on your neck, sweat beading his forehead. He was really, desperately trying to hold back his release but the way your pussy walls were starting to flutter and clench his cock was making it an impossible mission.

“Fuck…” he groaned. “I.. need you to cum first..pipsqueak..”

Caleb suddenly pulled out, untangling your legs from around him. His big palms find your inner thighs and he spreads your legs wider. He takes a second to appreciate the sight of your well fucked hole before burying his face in your sweet cunt.

Your body responds pleasantly to him, back arching off the bed, grinding your cunt against his face as he feasts on you like a man who was stranded in the desert and found a water source.

“C-Caleb! Please! I need you inside me..”

Caleb responds by sucking on your clit, one of his hands holding your legs open makes its way to your dripping cunt and he starts to finger you. Two fingers, knuckle deep feeling your hot wet walls. Searching for the sweet spot that’ll make you scream.

“Not yet baby…” he swirls his tongue. “Not until you cum on my face.” And there he goes again.

His fingers and tongue pleasuring you until your body starts to tremble. Your fingers gripping the bed sheets until your knuckles turn white.

“Oh fuck oh fuck!” You grab a pillow and press it against your face. Trying to muffle the sounds of your moans.

You were close again. The coil on the precipice of snapping. Caleb finds your g-spot and stars burst behind your eyelids, your toes curl as an intense orgasm rips through you. You scream into your pillow, muffling the cries of pleasure.

Caleb laps up your release making sure no drop goes to waste. He could eat your sweet cream all fucking night if he had the chance. His cock was throbbing now, aching to be buried back inside your hot cunt.

He lifts his head up, his purple eyes darkened with lust. “Fuck you taste incredible.”

You collapse back onto the bed, your body still shuddering from the intense orgasm.

Not giving you any chance to recover he flips you onto your stomach and puts you on your knees.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful like this,” Caleb lines up the head of his cock to your drenched entrance.

He sheaths himself inside you to the hilt. Groaning as your pussy swallows each delicious inch of him. “God! You were made for me.” He gasps before starting to rut into you.

Your hands death grip the bed sheets and you bite your pillow to hide your cries of pleasure. Fuck he felt so deep behind you like this. Each thrust making the familiar ache in your lower belly build.

Why does something that can be seen as taboo feel so fucking right?! The way he makes you feel, perhaps you were made for him like this? To be fucked and loved by this man. Your childhood friend, your ‘big brother’. You never saw him as a brother though, no. Sisters don’t feel this way about their brothers.

“Ah..mmpf..Caleb!” The pillow swallows your sounds of ecstasy. The sound of your coupling echoes in the bedroom.

Caleb’s thrusting starts to lose its rhythm as he feels himself on the verge of release.

“God… I’m gonna cum..” He groans through gritted teeth. Not wanting this moment to end. The feel of your warmth wrapped around him, clenching, sucking him in deeper. It’s all too much.

Suddenly he flips you back onto your back. He hooks your legs over his elbows and crashes his lips onto yours. Swallowing your loud moans as he fucks you deeper than before.

“D-don’t stop..” you moan against his lips.

“Fuccckk..!” Caleb’s resolve is almost at shattering point. He can feel you on the verge of another orgasm.

“Let’s cum together baby!” He angles his hips, finding your sweet spot and suddenly you’re lost in a daze of intense pleasure again. Your orgasm ripples through you, your pussy clamping down hard on his pistoning cock.

“Caleb!” You cry out.

The feel of your pussy clenching him tightly is Caleb’s undoing. He buries himself to the hilt as he cums deep inside you. Thick, hot spurts of his semen coat your insides and you love it. There’s so much of it, it’s leaking out of your pussy.

As you collapse back onto the mattress, spent and sated, he collapses on top of you. His body still shuddering from aftershocks of his intense orgasm.

You’re both out of breath, Caleb buries his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and the smell of your sex.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close to you as you both linger in the afterglow of your combined orgasms.

“Welcome back Caleb…” you finally murmur after what feels like hours of cuddling.

Caleb chuckles and starts peppering kisses up your neck and jaw.

“Thanks Pipsqueak.” He gives you a soft lingering kiss on your lips, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth. When he finally pulls away, taking in a deep breath. He look into your eyes, his pupils blown out so much you can only see a sliver of purple.

You just know he’s already thinking about going for another round.

“I’m glad to be back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[tsuyalovebot]

collared.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

cws: MDNI and ageless blogs will be blocked. suggestive. caleb is kind of unhinged, lowkey kind of condescending while teasing. mc=reader. casual touches (knee, thigh, face). reader uses makeup. he puts his thumb in your mouth. pet names (pipsqueak, pretty). basically caleb-typical warnings.

wc: 2.1k (this was supposed to be a drabble. help.)

author's note: he occupies my brain too much. pussy inspection piece coming soon just trust .｡.:*☆

Caleb's a patient man. That's what he likes to think. Despite the amount of times he's had to expound on his cruelty and dichotomy as Farspace Colonel, he likes to think it hasn't truly changed him from his observational nature. That he's still the same boy in some sense. To watch and give commentary, grinning lazily and all.

You're really, really testing him though.

"Caleb," you repeat his name, annoyance in your tone. "You're not listening."

"I am, though?" He muses, stirring the pot of fragrant, ginger chicken congee with one hand. He looks at you, who's seated on the countertop beside the stove, kicking your legs out while watching him cook.

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh. You doubtin' me, pipsqueak? I'll have you know, I scored very, very high on the fleet's physical assessment on training our senses." Caleb teases, turning back to the pot. He takes the bowl of shredded chicken, adding it into the congee and stirring while you pout.

"You're hearing me, but you're not listening. What was I talking about, huh?" You insist with a frown. You've got his clothes on—a fact that's kind of, sort of itching at his brain in some way, shape, or form. He tries to not think about it. You're only in them because you spilled your drink on your dress earlier. And, who would he be to not offer you a change of clothes?

Prior to this, he'd given you a shirt and pants in your size. Said he bought them for you whenever you'd come over to Skyhaven and his place. Much to his surprise however, while you appreciated his kindness (even though you also called him weird), you still padded off to his room to steal his clothes. Which is why you're here now, in some graphic t-shirt that's a size or three too big on you and shorts.

Caleb is a patient man. He repeats this to himself like a mantra. Maybe he could gaslight himself into believing this.

"You were telling me about one of your colleagues from the Association. How he was impeding you from doing your patrol because he kept flirting, right?"

You blink, mollified. He finds your slackened expression cute, smiling as he lowers the heat on the stove. The congee bubbles, the fragrance potent. "Hmm. I should take a picture of you."

Just as he pulls out his phone to feign snapping a shot, you swat at his hand. He laughs, shaking his head at your antics.

"Okay, so you were listening," you admit. Sheepish, a faint flush to your cheeks.

He nods with a little smile. "Yep. You gonna keep going?"

"Mm. So, as I was saying—"

You're really cute sometimes. He wonders if you know that too, because there's been so many instances of him wanting to squish your face in his palms. Feel the soft pudge against his hands, drag the rough skin of his fingers over your eyelids and the cartilage of your ears, the bone of your nose bridge like one would admire a caricature beyond their comprehension.

There's something novel in seeing you come over. It feels like old times, when he'd just departed from Josephine's place and you'd come over to his place and loiter. You'd grin as you raided his house of snacks, declaring this and that as yours. Obviously, those were yours. Why do you think he always seemed to be restocked in your favorite snacks when you'd come over?

But it's more than simple visits now. You've begun incorporating yourself into his house. It's becoming a home now, with every hairtie he finds on the carpet or tube of lipgloss left in the bathroom. You've begun leaving your clothes for him to wash, which he doesn't really mind. How could he, when he gets to run his fingers over the cloth you've worn and marvel at its softness despite the washed out color—how it's probably been with you and seen you in worse states than he ever has in your entire life?

You left your eyelash curler once and complained over the phone how your makeup bag keeps eating your stuff. When he said you'd left it at his place, you decided the best possible solution wasn't to swing by one day and take it during a regular visit. You resolved to stay for a week in Skyhaven with him since so much of your stuff was with him.

"I can just use my vacation now and let the Association know I'm on leave," you had said, your voice carried through the speaker. "Do you guys have that at the fleet? Vacations? You should take yours, as well."

Caleb had been bulldozing through reports at the time, lifting a page of some lackluster maintenance report on a couple of vessels. It didn't even look properly done—seemed he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to correct the conduct of the other fleets.

But, with the most playful and assuring tone ever, he had replied with, "Oh, we got those too. I'll use mine. That way, we can spend it together, yeah?"

Funny, how paid vacation was not, in fact, a thing.

Now, he's here with you and he could get used to this. His space being yours, yours being his. A mutualism, reciprocity built on benefit and comfort. It doesn't hold the same familiarity of the past with regards to atmosphere, but it's changed. New, developed on this blossoming relationship of seeking answers but also caring so deeply for each other.

"Caleb," you say his name with such disdain it snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You're not listening, again." You're scowling when he tears his gaze from the pot of congee. He reaches over and smooths out the little furrow of your brow and you let him. He smiles a bit.

"I am, I promise."

You shake your head. "No, you're not."

You reach over and pull on his dog tag. Hard. It surprises him, and he stumbles closer to your form. He looks at you, eyes wide.

You rarely initiated physical contact with him. Sometimes, he'd be blessed to have you jump on his back the way you always did. Maybe even feel grateful to feel your knuckles brush his wrist when reaching for utensils at the dinner table. But there's always a barrier, some sorr of invisible force that polarizes your forms and keeps you away from one another.

Yet here you aware, scowling so harshly he thought he made a grave misdeed that went beyond zoning out. Your finger looped into his necklace, demanding his attention. You're like a petulant child with your cheeks puffed up like this. It brings him back.

But it doesn't really bring back that signature brotherly attitude of his. Something else licks at the base of his spine. Something a bit darker, more subtle but nevertheless present.

Caleb can't help himself, smiling. A bit too giddy, slightly cheeky. You probably catch sight of it—you know him too well—and it probably aggravates you further, so you tug him again, by that necklace.

"Ah-ah," Caleb tuts, lifting his hand to gently wrap around your wrist. "Careful. You might break it."

Watching how your eyes flit down to the sight of his fingers winding around your skin, feeling the way your breaths stall at the sight. Hmm? He smiles a bit wider. He files away that knowledge for later.

Caleb relents at your tugs, though. Really, how could he ever deny you? Like an obedient dog, he moves, turning the stove off with one hand and snaking his way to be between your knees. His free hand placing itself on the countertop outside your knee, giving you his undivided attention.

You're a bit shy now despite getting what you wanted. Blinking at him like a deer caught in headlights as you hold onto the chain with your index finger. He could bite you, sink his teeth into your shoulder, and you would probably let him. Maybe even slip that neckline a bit lower for easier access, card your fingers through his hair.

You're spoiled rotten, and he wouldn't have you any other way. The product of his affections, the consequence of his actions.

"C'mon. I'm sorry for not actively responding, yeah?" Caleb coos, leaning in and subtly watching the flush color your skin. Careful to say actively responding, not listening. "You know I tend to focus too much when cooking. You got my attention now, though. Wanna keep going?"

You open your mouth, then close it again. He places his hand on your bare knee, watching in real time as you bluescreen, gaze darting.

Ah, he muses, his supposed patience waning. You make this too easy.

"Oh, I get it now. It wasn't that, was it? You just needed a bit of Caleb's attention, didn't you?" He drags his hand up, lets it hold your thigh. Gives it an experimental squeeze and observes your expression flicker between something akin to delight and mortification.

Maybe the mortification comes with him cornering you like this, even though you started. Or maybe you're coming to terms with the fact that you need him like he needs you. He'd hope that's the case. God, he'd love it if that were the case.

You stammer over your next words. Doesn't matter, he didn't hear it. Not over the sound of something like wedding bells in his head as he leaned in further. Deducting the space between you two, further enraptured by how all your thoughts seem to fizzle out at his proximity. His other hand, still holding your wrist, drops down to the counter.

"My attention is always yours, you know that, right?" He rubs his thumb into the softness of your inner thigh, tilting his head with a boyish smirk. It's playing at the corner of his mouth, and he has to stop himself from pouncing when you look at his lips too. "You don't gotta be rude, tugging me around. Have some manners."

And, like clockwork, his other hand comes up. In time with the gentle, swooping motions of his thumb on your thigh, he holds your chin. Lets you tilt your head up a bit, moves your head side to side lightly. He tests your pliancy and is pleased with his findings. You're slack, clay in his palms and he finds that he doesn't need to put you on a spinning plate to mold you.

Then, he tilts his head and narrows his eyes. Like a switch being flipped.

"Ah," he prompts, and presses his thumb against your lower lip. You're so good, so pliant as you open your mouth, letting him hook his thumb into your jaw. Presses it flat onto your tongue and lets you taste the slight spiciness of the diced ginger he handled earlier.

Delight sparks in his stomach as you remain perfectly still, save for the wobble of your lips. As if you didn't know to keep your mouth open or seal your lips around his thumb. He wouldn't particularly mind if you sucked—that should be for another time, though.

Caleb examines you like a mortician would a cadaver, his eyes dark. A piece of him satiating his appetite with the display before him. His digit in your mouth, your eyes a bit foggy as you breathe through your nose. In the palm of his hands, in his house, in his clutches.

You aren't the least bit resistant to his advances. If anything, you seem to welcome it, closing your eyes and letting your eyelashes flutter aganst your cheek when you open them to watch him too.

"You know I'm always listening to you. Always. Use your words like I taught you the next time you want my attention, hmm?" He leans in, smiling. Deceptively innocuous, saccharine with falsetto concern in a cheery tone. But he knows you see the desire lurking beneath the surface. Stewing in the cauldron of his gaze.

"Don't gotta be a brat to ask. Be good. Nod if you understand."

You nod, placated, dropping your finger from his necklace. Caleb smiles, pleased as he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. He feels the tension dissolve as quickly as it came.

He beams after, releasing you. His thumb leaves your mouth, hands off your face and thigh before returning to the congee. He ignores your pointed gaze toward him.

Caleb's a patient man. He'll wait, wait, wait, and wait some more. Doesn't make any difference to him, not when you're sitting pretty, waiting with him at his side. He'll wait, even as he watches you roll your tongue around in your closed mouth, like you're trying to taste him on your tongue.

"Now, keep talkin', pretty. I wanna hear how you kicked that guy's ass."

[lmaowhatt]

early christmas gift - jj m.

summary: a very early crhistmas gift.

set: two and a half months after part one, late november. please read the 'set' section in pt one to understand this!

psa: jarah had their baby and named her josephine joy. she is around 9 months.

one - two - three - four

pairing: jj maybank x pogue!reader

warnings: starts off as fluff (very cute imo), suggestive topic, smut, f!inger!ng, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, (wrap before you tap!) pregnancy trope, cursing.

if theres any others feel free to let me know!

main masterlist

pre a/n: final exams are absolutely wrecking me so i might not post until this friday (12-20) when we officially get off school.

you and the girls were all currently cramped in a corner of setting up the christmas tree as baby jj giggled at your bickering with cleo. "ow, cleo!" you called as you moved your arm back, effectively elbowing her chin. you rolled your eyes dropping the ornament in hand, "fucking hell this is pissing me off," you grumbled, moving away from the cramped corner and sitting besides baby jj on the couch.

you cooed at her, tickling her stomach as she squirmed with loud giggles. you smiled, pulling away, only to have her climb hastily onto your lap, squeezing your cheeks with her small hands. you laugh, poking her tummy with both of your pointer fingers. "hi sweet girl," you smiled, pulling your fingers away again to pinch her cheek lightly.

you smiled at jj as he came over with a smile, sitting beside you. "you know you look good right?" jj muttered under his breath as he scooped baby josephine into his hands, holding her to place her small feet on his thighs. "y'think so?" you asked with a tilted head, eyes on him and baby jj. you fixed your white lightweight sweater, adorned with a light pink bow design in the center. you then moved to fix your mid-thigh length white jean skirt, only to be stopped by jj.

"y'ass looks good baby, leave the skirt alone," he compliments with a small smile, eyes moving down to your thighs before flicking back up to your eyes. you laughed, "really?" you raised an eyebrow, "staring are we, maybank?" the man held back a smirk, shrugging instead. "can you blame me? been obsessed with you for forever, ass is only a small perk," he jokes, you shoving his shoulder in return. he laughs, bringing baby josie to sit facing outward on his lap, "im kiddin' baby, i love you," he leaned in to peck your lips, a gesture which you smiled to.

you hummed, "i guess i love you too," sighing heavily, you shrugged your shoulders with a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "cmon mama, at least make it believable," he nudges your shoulder with raised eyebrows as baby josie leaned back into his front. "i love you," you smile, holding his chin in between your thumb and pointer finger, bringing his lips to yours, connecting them as a form of small reassurance and affection.

he smiled as you pulled away moving to whisper into your ear, covering baby josephines ears 'just in case', "ill show you just how much i love you later, yeah?" he kissed the curve of your ear, moving to sit josie in between the both of you before standing up, winking in your direction and walking back outside to where john b, pope and james were hanging up christmas lights.

you let out a shaky breath at his words, crossing your legs as you tried to distract yourself by playing with baby jj and her toys that were sprawled on the couch and floor beneath you. you looked up at a rustling sound that was heard from outside, locking eyes with jj who had been watching you intently, licking his lips as he caught your gaze before going snapping out of his haze when john b slapped the back of his head.

after a while, the sun had begun to set. john b and sarah occupied themselves by taking baby josie up to their room trying to get her down for an early bedtime. pope and cleo decided to spend the night outside near the bundle of hammocks the crew had assembled after almost three years. james and kiara had left to take a late night boat ride, trying to bask in whatever moments alone they could muster.

you lay stomach down on the couch, now changed into more comfortable, legging-feel like shorts and a loose tee. your leg hung off the couch as you scrolled mindlessly through different social media apps. you failed to notice when jj strolled in from the back porch into the kitchen. you shut off your phone, only focusing your attention onto him when he patted the swell of your ass twice while walking past. "hi, j," you smiled, sitting up as you watched his eyes trail over every single item in the fridge, settling on grabbing a single strawberry.

you stood, walking over to rest your elbows on the small island that served as an opening between the living room and kitchen, watching him intently as he bit into the strawberry, doing a double take to go back into the fridge and grab a couple pineapple rings kie had so graciously cut. "y'know those are josie's, right?" he raised an eyebrow at her with a small smirk, "she doesnt know left from right, mamas. shell be fine, plus its november. she wont miss 'em" the man declared, bitting into the pineapple.

you chuckled as the man's eyes widened, going back to grab more pineapples, muttering something about buying baby josie another pineapple another day. "cmon baby, taste 'em. theyre good," he called to you as you walked through the kitchen threshold, hoisting yourself up onto the counter, jj taking the opportunity to move in between your legs, placing a hand on your thigh while moving the other, pineapple in his grip, towards your mouth.

you hummed, licking your lips with a shrug, "its good, damn." you muttered. quickly, you moved your hand to snatch the rest of the pineapple rings from his grasp before he could eat them,slipping them into your mouth and jumping off the counter, only offering him a soft smile. "you little.." he mumbled, rushing to chase after you as you ran up the stairs in a fit of quiet laughs. he was able to catch your waist at the top of the staircase, squeezing slightly as he pulled you closer to him.

"you're right, theyre good." you nodded up at him with a smile. he squinted his eyes at you, "you owe me," he squeezed your waist once more, rubbing his thumbs over the soft flesh in a soothing motion. "yeah? i dont think so maybank," you matched his squinted gaze, to which he shook his head. "no, i think you do," you smiled slightly at his words, only prompting a smile to pull at his lips as he pushed you backwards towards your bedroom door, opening it in one swift motion, his steady movements towards the bedroom not faltering.

you furrowed your eyebrows, silently proposing a fake challenge, "and in what way, hm baby?" you asked as you sat on the edge of the bed while jj locked the door. you laughed as he climbed on top of you, slowly trailing open mouthed kisses from your shoulder up to your lips. you smiled into the kiss, placing your hands on either side of his face as he manuevered the two of you so youd be sitting on his lap. he leaned back against the headboard and you moved to kiss down the side of his neck, leaving small love bites every once in a while.

"have i told you how much i love you mama?" he asked with heavy breaths which were getting heavier and heavier as he slipped your shirt off. you let out a sound of denial in the spur of the moment as you pulled away to face him. "not recently no," you teased as he smirked back at you with light hooded eyes. "guess i could show you, hm?" he asked, hand moving to grasp your ass, pulling you closer to him. you let out a small gasp, accompanied by a slight bite of your lip, taking into account the young girl in the room across the hall.

all you could do is watch with heavy breaths as his hands moved from your ass to your thighs, continuously moving up and down as he shifted to sit up straighter against the headboard. "this okay?" he asked. one of the things you loved most about him, no matter how many times the two of you had been intimate with eachother, he always made sure to check on you and make sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing.

"of course, baby," you smiled at him, watching as his head hung low, one of his hands moving back to your ass while the other move to tease the waistband of your loose shorts. he dug a finger into the waistband, pulling only slightly before retracting his finger, the snap of the band against your skin reverberating in the confines of the quiet room. watching your frustrated face, he let out a deep chuckle, "patience, mama," he kissed the top of your boob as he continued to play around with your waistband.

you sighed, running your nails allow lightly along his upper arms, nails only digging into his skin lightly when you felt his hand slip into your shorts and past your panties. "really, baby? all wet f'me and i haven't even done anything," he smiled up at you, almost with a small pout on his face, very faint if you really searched for it. "baby, this ain't fair," you muttered, rocking your hips slightly against his hand, trying to get as much friction as possible as he gathered up your slick in his index and middle finger.

"calm down baby, you know i always leave my girl satisfied, hm?" he asked as slowly inserted both fingers into you. you let out a soft moan, watching the smile on jjs face light up as he pulled you closer, curling his fingers inside you and using the hand that currently wasnt in you to move your waist, rocking you against his hand.

you bit your lip so hard you swore you were drawing blood. in the moment, you didnt care. you were more so worried about what sarah and john b would say or do if their daughter was woken up an hour into her sleep and what the man beneath you was doing to your body.

so you continued on biting your lip as you moved your hips in rhythm with his hand moving you, yours and jjs eye contact never deterring. "th'atta girl. you got this mama," he praised, curling his fingers at a slightly faster pace, relishing in the moans you were giving him.

as soon as he noticed you letting your lead loll back and tilt slightly to the side, a telltale sign you were close to your release, he slowly removed his fingers from your core, cooing at your needy whine. as you went to complain, you watched him lick his fingers clean, your eyes shifting down as he moved to tug down his sweat shorts, along with his boxers. "as i said, patience, a'ight?" he murmured, hands trailing slowly up your thighs once he had freed himself from the confines of his bottoms.

he moved your panties to the side, grabbing the backs of your thighs, pulling you up closer to his dick. he moved his hands to your hips, relishing in the look you put on when he began to sit you down gently onto him, torturous inch by torturous inch. you were, however, relieved that he was being as gentle as he was with you, knowing he could be going much harder. "y'okay? talk to me," he muttered, waiting for some sort of approval from you to keep moving.

you looked back up to him from where your bodies connected, nodding hastily. "im.. good," you spoke quietly, giving him a lopsided smile. "lets just keep it down a bit, yeah?" you regained a bit of consciousness, giving him some sort of a pointed look. he chuckled, "sayin' that to me, yeah?" he gripped your hips tighter, the sort of grip where come tomorrow, there would be light bruising.

you let out a breathy laugh, taking matters into your own hands, rocking your hips against his, while also bouncing ever so slightly. he groaned at your sudden movements, throwing his head back to rest against the headboard. "just like that baby, keep doin' that f'me, yeah? doing so good," he watched you with hooded eyes as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, him raising his arms in order for you to swiftly remove his shirt.

the shirt was discarded, thrown somewhere in the room, to be dealt with later. you teased his body, taking your nails lightly up and down his back as you leaned down to kiss his collarbone, him humming in approval while moving his hands up and down the sides of your body, reaching behind you to unclip your bra.

this continued for a while, your movements turning sloppier and slower as you both neared your release. jjs smirk widened, immediately spotting the whiny look on your face. "need somethin' baby?" his hands hung low on your hips that slowly came to a stop, both of your releases now fully dependent on your tired body needing to be moved. "jj please.." you let out a half-moan, half-whine.

jj swore it was the most heavenly sound in his life, immediately smiling as his ears caught the sound. "i gotchu mamas," he flipped the both you over, him now fully in control as he slowly inserted himself back into your heat. once of his hands moved to grip the headboard, while the other was placed beside your head, propping most of his body up.

he began drilling into you at a faster pace than you could ever accomplish while being on top. you let out a cry of pleasure, wrapping your legs around his waist, allowing jj to reach a spot inside you he couldn't before. "shit.." the man groaned dipping his head to rest in the crook of your neck, "so good f'me," he concluded with a small groan, which sounded more like a whimper.

the constraint drilling, the sound of skin slapping against each other, accompanied by your moans and his groans filled the room for the next couple minutes. his movements became more rushed, sloppier as you both reached his release, the way you fluttered around him definitely speeding up the process.

you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders as your mouth dropped agape, the band of ecstasy that had been tightening as the night went on snapping, coating the man above you in your release. jj wasnt far behind you, throwing his head back and groaning (think that one gif from his short film🙂‍↕️) with one last dig into you as he shot ropes of his own release into your warm walls.

the both of you stilled for a moment, attempting to come down from your highs, heavy exhales leaving each others mouths, fanning the others body. he groaned as he pulled out, followed by a whimper of your own. "y'okay, mamas?" the man slipped his boxers and sweat shorts back on, swiftly moving off of you to grab his discarded shirt, helping to clean you up and slip your bottoms back on.

you nodded, shifting to your side of the bed, "im okay baby," you turned onto your side, propping your head up on your arm as you watched him search through this side of the dresser for a shirt to let you borrow. he grabbed a random kildare country tee, passing it to you, then moving to his side of the bed. "thank you," you mumbled, sitting up to slip the shirt off. he hummed in response, "shorts look good on ya," he then quipped, moving to his side of the bed, placing a kiss on the top of your head then getting comfortable under the covers.

"'cause they show off my ass, huh?" you rolled your eyes playfully as you moved to lay on your stomach, facing him. "well, sure..." the man muttered, "just you in general, you're beautiful," he reached a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he took in your tired movements. he craned his neck down to kiss the top of your head again, "sleep well mamas," he muttered, rubbing his hand up and down your arm, occasionally moving to your waist and thighs to rub soothing circles. "goodnight baby," you whispered as your tired state took over. he smiled.

"g'night baby."

a/n: this was my first time writing anything close to smut so please dont judge. 🤗

[aheathen-conceivably]

It was well past sunset by the time Josephine went to look for Gio. She was used to him staying out after dark; when they were in their cabin together it was constantly filled with tension, although the variety of which changed nearly every hour. She figured he did it for the same reasons she went out driving most afternoons, with some intention to either escape the next looming fight or to finally provoke it. But now, with the stars fully shining in an inky blue sky, she had begun to grow worried. 

Out on the porch she looked toward where his truck usually sat parked, unused and forgotten. She didn’t know what she had expected to see, but when she realized that it was there her heart skipped a beat like she had been afraid that it would have been gone. 

From inside the other house all the lights were dimmed except for a single lamp upstairs where Zelda was no doubt still reading. Jo’s gaze shifted rightward toward the corn field where somehow, she already knew that’s where he was.

A full moon above was conspiring with the stars to illuminate his face, although he seemed to be trying to hide it amidst the shadow of a hundred dead leaves. His hands and his legs were fully one with the red dirt below, like he had long ago stopped caring whether the coarse grains got into every fraying hole in his pants. It was hard for her to imagine what he could have been doing motionless and morose for so long, but then she felt the heavy weight of an aging quilt beneath her and saw a pile of dying flowers at her bedside; and then, she knew exactly what.

“I know it's all dead. You don’t have to remind me.”

She walked up to the haphazard hole in the fence, seemingly there more due to the fact that someone had run out of wood rather than to make the whole thing a proper enclosure. She stopped before walking past it, just as unnerved by the dead corn as she was by Gio’s posture on the ground. “I wasn’t. I came to ask you to come inside. Its freezing.”

He didn't seem to hear her request, or if he did, he simply didn’t care enough to answer it. “Zelda was here earlier. Found me a job. A Works Progress Job. Roadwork. Something. I don’t know.”

He picked up a handful of dirt which looked dry even in the bright moonlight. Good! For fuck’s sake stand up. You aren’t defeated. Stop acting like it. Stand up, have a drink, and move the fuck on. Instead she chose her words carefully, conscious of just how much he must have spiraled sitting out here alone for hours. Neither was it lost on her just how patient he had been when she had done the same. “I know it's not what you wanted but at least it pays, right? I - you know we have another payment and this won’t sell…”

Like sand in an hourglass the last grains of dirt fell from his clenched fist. “So that’s what you’re here for, is it? To kick me when I’m down? Skim another twenty five percent while you’re at it?”

She had brought up the topic dozens of times before, always aware that there was another deadline looming just over the horizon. But that hadn’t been her intention. Not this time. Not here. Something about the corn was making her uneasy. There was no breeze in the air, but the stalks still seemed to sway; or maybe it was just that she owned the majority of this dead ground now. 

“Oh for God's sake. Must we do this? I’ll pay it if I need to. You know I will. But then you will get the job and it will become something and it will all be better. Now can we please go inside?”

“Of course you will. What’s the cost this time?”

“Do we really have to do that now? Here? Gio, I’ll pay it the way I’ve always paid it. In return for half your share. I mean must we?”

“And then what happens after? Will you sell me back my shares? A loan, Jo. You said it was a loan.”

Something snapped inside of her and the sympathy that had been staying her hand melted away. “After? Do you seriously want to do this now? I only asked for the same thing you offered Antoine and you goddamn well know we would be fucked if I hadn’t. Every last one of us would be on the street without me and yet you want to run this race over and over again every time I bring it up. After!” 

A cruel laugh escaped her lips, like she was losing control of her perfectly pointed insults. “You don’t even know what after means! Some job. Fucking roadwork. At least I know where my next paycheck is coming from and I can promise you it's enough to pay for this shithole three times over no matter how many times this goddamn corn dies.”

Dry, red soil rained down around him as he slowly raised himself up off the ground. Surrounded by corn stalks standing beside him like sentinels, he looked her dead in the eyes, every last insult seemingly deflected from his dirt stained pants except for one. 

“Antoine's not my wife.”  

“I’m not your wife either, Gio.” 

A breeze must have come down from the far reaches of the mountains, because all around them the soft sound of dry leaves rang out. She knew that she had gone too far for seemingly no reason at all. That fight had been long settled, and she knew what he had meant. He’s not my partner. He’s not supposed to trust me and rely on me the way you are. The way I rely on you now, for everything.

The look of hurt in his eyes radiated across the field and she glanced down at the red dirt just past her feet. She had stayed on the other side of the fence almost subconsciously, not even realizing just how much she didn’t want to take even one step inside. But burying the unease in her chest, she walked into the rows, conscious that if she so much as brushed one of the dead leaves it would fall to the ground in noisy protest.

As she reached him, the pain written on his face twisted deep inside her stomach. She hadn’t wanted him to fail. Jesus Christ, especially not like this. She could still see him a decade before, lying in their bed half-clothed and wide eyed, rambling of his plans and his dreams that would never come to fruition. She was thankful that foresight hadn’t imagined this; and that that boy couldn’t see himself now, stained with defeat like the red dirt covering him from head to toe. For once in her life she wanted to break her back and scrub her fingers raw over the wash tub, cleaning every stain off of his clothes until they were fresh again.

“Listen I’ll go with you to the WPA office as soon as they need you to, alright? Before my next tour we can go together.”

The pacification in her words only seemed to partially thaw his anger, made deeper and colder by every dead stalk surrounding them. His placid silence was somehow just as unnerving as the corn, like they were linked somehow, and maybe the passion that her insults would have usually elicited had died with the leaves too.

She brought her hand to his cheek, and when she felt him lean into her touch, relief flooded her body. “You need sleep, okay? Let’s go inside. It will be better in the morning.” 

He nodded subtly, although his feet stayed locked in place. She ran her thumb back and forth along the line where his beard met the softness of his skin, watching as his eyes closed at the touch. She wanted bring her lips to his eyelids and both of her hands to his chin. Then she could cover the exhausted defeat on his face with her own skin, taking it from him little by little until he was himself again.

When he still didn’t move she ran her hand down the length of his arm, interlacing her fingers with his. “Come on. You can do this. I’m here with you. We'll do it together.”

Finally he lifted his leaden foot, both of them leaning onto the other’s shoulder as they left the dead corn behind them. But buried in a shallow grave between the rows was a question still hanging over their heads like an axe. Will you sell me back my shares, Jo?

Previous / Next

[crazybiscuit]

Uptown Girl

Chapter 1

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: You, an out of touch rich pureblood, recently moved to England for yet another engagement prospect. Unfortunately, things don't go to plan as you somehow find yourself constantly running into a werewolf, who has developed a valid reason to dislike you. Warnings: This is going to be a long fic and the reader will be a bit of a bitch at first. The story will definitely contain violence, excessive use of alcohol, smut and mentions of death. This chapter doesn't have any graphic content though. On side note, this is set in 1983 and sadly, Lily (my wife... 😔) and James are dead. So Sirius is in Azkaban and Peter is "dead". Word Count:  2313 Credits: @saradika-graphics thank you for the divider! A/N: Let's pretend I didn't mean to post this yesterday... London was an actual nightmare to map out in my brain and I'm fully aware the title doesn't make total sense considering uptown and downtown is a mostly American concept but I figured it fit the context of the story. So for our sake, Remus will live in East London, closer to the Thames, and you, my dear Readers will live in West London, more North of the city. On a side note, fuck JKR and her disgusting beliefs. Also, to anyone struggling, whether it be personal life or political climate, I hope you're doing alright. Writing is my current escapism and I hope I can help someone else in the process. On another note, chapter 2 should be posted on the 28th! Chapters: 2

 

“When is that damned exterminator going to get here?” your father’s gruff voice was muffled by his handkerchief he held to his nose as he walked into the parlour.

“We should’ve just called the ministry,” the woman sat next to you snapped, her head sticking out of the window taking advantage of the fresh air, “No one would’ve ever cared about our little problem. But no, you had the brilliant idea to hire some random man you found in some pub.”

You brushed your damp hair, trying your best to ignore the foul stench emitting from beneath the floor, “There’s nothing small about our problem, so I’d much rather keep this discreet myself.”

You should’ve known better than to oppose your poor, dear mother, as she grasped her chest as if she couldn’t breathe, “Discreet! I don’t care how discreet we are dealing with this! This man will fail to help us, screw up and we will have to call the ministry anyways. Hell! He’s probably a fraud and planning to rob us. Do you have any idea how much worse that will be! People will think we are fools who can’t maintain our estate.”

You didn’t bother hiding the way you rolled your eyes as you glanced back out to the cloudy sky, which caused mother to rant about disrespect to the old man, now sitting in his recliner.

The fall wind was a welcome guest as you began to carefully style your hair, turning your attention to your faint reflection in the window. The bundimun infestation might have stalled the redecorating efforts of this old dirty hole of townhouse, but it was certainly not going to stop you from looking your best.

“It’s lucky Josephine is still in France. I'm beginning to doubt any amount of magic can revive this place.”

“Enough complaining,” your father cut in, as he casted another scouring charm in an attempt to lessen the smell, “We all know this isn't ideal, but you should be grateful we even found this estate for you considering your situation.”

You felt slightly annoyed as you finished your hair, frowning at him through the glass reflection. Your hand dropped dejectedly as you glanced back with a sigh. He was right, despite every one of your arrangements falling through due to the war, your parents had still managed to find you a respectable match, “I know, I know. I'm sorry. This is all just… I really miss him and this is all so frustrating.”

Your parents shared a look but remained silent. However, this didn’t last long as your mother suddenly stood up, “I feel like I might faint.” 

Your father let out an exasperated sigh at her theatrics.

“I am sorry, dear, but I cannot do this anymore. You'll have to deal with the exterminator yourself, I'm going out for lunch with Y/N–”

Before your father could protest in annoyance, you interrupted, “Actually, I still need to finish my makeup, so you can go with Papa.”

They put very little effort into arguing and quickly vanished from the house. The silence would've been appreciated if it weren’t for the disturbing smell surrounding you and you found yourself tilting your head back as you leaned against the window sill. Even upside down, the townhouses that lined the street bored you, and you decided to stare at the sea of grey clouds slowly drifting across the sky instead.

You figured, much to your annoyance, that it would likely rain again today. Your attention snapped to the street when you heard the crunching of the colourful leaves beneath someone’s shoes. You flipped over to get a proper look of the man coming up the street and your interest peaked. He stood out against the pristine houses, his dark clothes seemingly worn from years of wear on his tall, though lanky figure, and he seemed handsome enough even from the second floor.

You quickly grabbed your wand and summoned your silk robe, slipping it over your nightgown. He must’ve been the man your father hired, and with that thought, you grabbed your perfume bottle to apply some.

By the time the doorbell rang, you had grabbed your lipstick and you carefully applied it as you looked at yourself in the mirror against the wall. The bell rang a second time and you sighed, quickly wiping off the colour that was out of place. You smoothen out your silk robe before heading to the front door, opening it and finding yourself faced with a man’s hand frozen midair, ready to knock.

“Oh, sorry,” your eyes snapped up to the face that spoke and you met the man’s slightly startled hazel eyes. He was taller than you expected when you saw him outside and his light brown hair was messy but still made him look rather charming. He seemed a few years older, likely in his mid or late 20s. But what truly caught your eyes were the scars scattered across his face, neck, hands. Any bit of skin you could see was littered with scars, “Hi, you hired pest control..?”

His deep voice snapped you out of your daze and you noted the faint Welsh accent as you stepped aside, opening the door wider for him, “Right… come in.”

The man took notice of your outfit and nonchalant demeanor, but remained professional as he followed you in. His expression remained steady despite the familiar pungent smell filling the house. He awkwardly adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Your father hadn’t told him the exact issue, only promising to pay him nicely, and Remus hadn’t exactly allowed himself the privilege of worrying about the oddity of the situation. However, you did notice his stance relaxed as he recognized the infestation he was handling, “Bundimuns?”

“Unfortunately, that is correct,” you sighed, looking back as you opened the door to the area where the test was the most prominent. You noted his slight hesitancy to walk in as he observed the half-decorated house, “Our house warming party is in a few days and we need this issue to be solved quickly so we can finish the renovations.”

“Right…,” Remus tried his best to hide his expression of confusion and disbelief as he stared at the loud rococo decor scattered around the room floor, “This seems like it would’ve been easier to report to the ministry.”

“Probably,” you agreed, making your way to the open balcony, “We’ll take our chances though. I’d rather only have one person know about this than deal with official records of the infestation.”

That dumbfounded the poor man, who had set his old messenger bag down on one of the uncovered powder blue sofas, but he wasn’t about to push for more answers. Rich purebloods were always preoccupied with reputation, he knew that very well.

You leaned against the cold, metal railing as you watched him dig through his bag for his notebook, “How long will it take you?”

His gaze met yours for a split second before going back to flipping through the yellowed pages, “It’ll take two or three hours. This is a pretty serious infestation and this building is a lot bigger than it seemed outside…”

It was clear he had questions but it didn’t seem like he was going to ask. You figured you’d explain the situation to prevent any rumours to spread (though you doubted his words would actually reach any important ears), “This house was built before the ban on extension charms for houses. We have ministry approval to keep it this way.”

Remus smiled a little apologetically, finding the page he was looking for, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. It really isn’t any of my business, so I wasn’t going to ask.”

His passiveness was mildly surprising but you brushed it off. It was nice not having to worry about him talking and clearly he needed the money, so you figured he'd stay quiet. You finally moved and sat at the table on the balcony as he began to read the most effective spells to get rid of the secretions and creatures.

It was fairly cold outside but you figured you should keep an eye on him, so to entertain yourself for the next few hours, you figured you’d write to your sister and friends back in France. You flicked your hawthorne wand, summoning your quill, paper and other supplies wordlessly.

The two of you worked on your separate tasks quietly, barely interacting for over an hour. You had lost interest in watching him as he cleaned the house out of the green menaces, using spells you had never heard off, and only headed back inside due to the charming British weather: Rain was always such a nuisance.

You carried your stack of letters with you as you walked back into the house. The smell, though still lingering, had mostly vanished from the house, which was a relief, “I'm going to be upstairs. I trust you won’t steal anything… Though I doubt he’d even be able to identify the actual valuable objects.”

The last part was mumbled in French under your breath but with the context, it was easy for the brunette to infer it was likely an insult. Remus watched you disappear to the third floor, “What?”

“Feel free to ask the house elves for help. They’re in the basement. They’ve been trying their best to deal with the acid,” with that, you shut your bedroom door, completely missing the man’s expression of disbelief and mild offense.

Another hour passed and Remus had done everything in his power to avoid you as he finished up the rest of the house. This would’ve worked wonders if he didn’t have to worry about getting rid of the last few bundimuns in the house, which conveniently were hidden behind the double doors leading to your room.

He sighed. He was never skilled in divination but something in his gut was telling that you were trouble, but he needed the money and he wasn’t about to half-ass his job because of some spoiled brat. So he knocked.

You opened the door and he immediately took note of your outfit change. You were no longer in your silk robe and nightgown, instead dressed in a simple but classy turtleneck and skirt, “I need to charm this room then I’m done…”

You hummed, letting him in as you walked back to your four poster bed, tying the stack of at least 15 letters together so that your owl could carry it. This gave Remus at least a few minutes of peace as he finished up, but it seemed you sensed he was about done as you spoke up, “You know, I know a potion maker in Saint-Brieuc, who is very skilled at Scar-Diminishing Serums.” 

“I beg your pardon?” his Welsh accent seemed deeper now that you’d upset him. The unprompted comment caught the man off guard and he scoffed, unable to believe anyone could be this insensitive.

“I’ve used them a few times and they work wonders. Great way to boost confidence and better your appearance,” you paused, sensing he was upset, much to your confusion, “Don’t get me wrong, you’re fairly handsome, but I think it would definitely hel–”

He suddenly got up after casting one last spell, “I’m done.”

His voice, though composed, made it obvious he was pissed. You hesitated slightly, trying to figure out what you did as you followed him down to the first floor, “No need to be so upset, I was just trying to give you advice. Whatever beasts gave you those scars did nasty work–”

He interrupts, surprisingly calm for someone getting insulted every other line, “Well, I kindly reject it, thank you.”

He stopped in front of the front door, almost considering leaving without payment, not wanting anything from you. Before you could protest, he opened the door and your mother let out a yelp, not expecting to see the stranger.

“Oh! Remy, was it?” your father smiled, glad to see the exterminator.

“Remus.”

It finally occurred to you that you had never even introduced yourself or asked for his name.

“Right, right! You must’ve finished! Y/N, did you pay him yet? I left the galleons on the table in the office,” he kept rambling, walking past Remus and you to get the money. Your mother smiled nervously, looking at the man, who she had already predetermined as creepy and untrustworthy, and tried her best to maintain a polite demeanor.

Unfortunately for her, she did a terrible job and her expression visibly relaxed when your father came back to save her from the conversation, “Here’s the 10 Galleons we originally agreed upon, and I figured you could get an extra 5 for–”

“Actually the 10 will suffice,” Remus forced a smile. He wasn’t stupid. It was clear you and your family were hoping to buy his favor to avoid any bad mouthing, and he wasn’t going to do that. Hell, he didn’t even want to talk about you to anyone (not that he really had anyone left), but it was a matter of principle.

You parents were stumped. They had rarely, if ever, met someone so quick to deny their money, “Sir, we insist–”

Remus had stepped out, taking the 10 Galleons, cutting off your mother with a thigh smile, “Honestly, I’m good.”

Your father, in a desperate attempt to get some sort of upperhand spoke words that made your  jaw drop, “Well then, please consider joining us for our Autumn Equinox party on the 22nd.”

Your mother’s expression mirrored yours and you knew they would argue about this later. Remus’s eyes met yours and something awoke in him, a slight sense of amusement he hadn’t felt since Hogwarts. He looked back at your father, adjusting his old bag on his shoulder, and smiled slightly, “I’ll think about it.”

[crxlrei-888]

LOVE AND DEEP SPACE HAREM

@crxlrei-888

art not mine

ᯓᡣ𐭩 lnds x reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nsfw/18+

ᯓᡣ𐭩 violence

❛ i dont mind being shared.. ❜

❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆

In the quiet evening of Linkon City, the air had the scent of blooming lilies, and the soft hum of distant crickets provided the only music. Inside Gran's quaint cottage, the gentle tick-tock of the grandfather clock echoed through the hallways, a rhythmic lullaby for the night.

Gran, with her silver hair and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, dozed peacefully in her favorite rocking chair, the steady creak a testament to years of comfort it had brought her.

Caleb, tall and fit, his black hair styled in a way that made his purple eyes pop, had just returned from his long journey. Farspace had left him with a newfound sense of adventure, but also an unexpected craving for the familiar. He stepped into the house, his heart racing with excitement to see you - his childhood friend. He had thought about you often during his travels, and the anticipation of your reunion had fueled many a lonely night.

You on the other hand, had been busy preparing dinner. You had always been a good cook, and tonight you wanted to make something special.

"You sure you don't need any help there, (Y/N)?" Grandma Josephine asked peering at the oven, " I see you're going all out."

"It's been so long," You blushed, putting the stove on. Finally you put the last curry to be prepared and all that's left to do is tidying up, "I want to show him I prepared all this on my own."

"Ah I see..." Grandma pouted, " You don't want me to take any credit at all... as if I don't exist."

"Oh Gran!" You laughed, kissing her forehead, "Don't think like that."

"Mhm," Gran smiled, "I'll at least help you clean up. Is that fine?"

You nod with a blush.

"Good. I was going to help you anyway." Gran starts wiping the dishes, "Have you given Caleb a hint of what you wanted to tell him all these years?"

Your thoughts swirled around an oath you had made to yourself before Caleb had left for work at the Deepspace Aviation Administration — to confess your love to Caleb when he returned. But you had no idea how he'd react. Would he feel the same way? Would it be awkward? You hoped not. You missed him alot. Probably too much you could handle.

You've both grown up seeing each other's flaws and strengths. Nothing was unfamiliar to the two of you. You grew up together as two adopted kids for Gran, living under the same roof and all.

He worried about you alot. Wayyy too much. Even if you guys weren't dating or anything official- everyone else would think otherwise. Gran would even tease the two of you - she was like your number one shipper from the start. Caleb never left you alone and you'd always follow him.

But what if things changed now? What if he changed after working? It's possible maybe he found someone he likes at work?

Someone he didn't need to take care of?

Suddenly the door opened and a familiar voice snapped you out of your daze and your heart skipped a beat.

"Pipsqueak! Gran! Guess whose back!?"

You dump the soap filled dishes back in the sink and jolted out the kitchen startling Gran who laughed at your instictive reaction. Your legs didn't stop until you reached the open door where the purple eyes young man stood gripping unto several gift bags.You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his torso which caused him to step back as you tackled yourself in a hug.

"Hey Hey hey! You'll break the gifts!" Caleb panicked, his fingers barely holding all the gift bag handles as he held his posture to stand. He smiles as you snuggle into his chest.

"Shut up." I mumbled into his shirt, "Are you saying the gifts are more important than me?"

"Of course not." Caleb laughed, wrapping his arms around you, gifts still in his hands, "But my ribcages are. You're squeezing the air outta me pipsqueak!"

"Hmph!" You shove him aside and fold your arms. By the time, Gran had already entered the room as she pinched his and your cheeks.

"You two never change will you?"

"Nope." You both say in unison but his eyes locks on your (E/C) eyes and you smile at each other for no odd reason.

The dinner was a delightful affair, filled with laughter and Caleb's experience at work. Gran listened with rapt attention, her eyes gleaming with pride as you listened attentively, inspecting each word that left his mouth - you know... in case he let a slip of word of a possible girl he likes back at work.

"Gideon forgot to get his girl some gifts" Caleb explained while chewing a piece of pork chops, "So we went shopping."

"Aw~" You smiled. The thought that Gideon's girlfriend getting spoilt was sweet. She was a nice girl. You only met her once.

Back at Caleb's and Gideon's graduation. She was really pretty and had an adorable and childlike personality. Caleb points to gifts on the couch, "Got a bunch of things for you and Gran, pipsqueak. You haven't even opened one yet."

"I'll open it after dinner."

"You open gifts when you receive it! Maybe you should've opened it when I arrived! There's a bunch of cool pretty stuff!"

"Sorry."

"Haha- But seriously, you better check it out before bed. I took a loooong time hand picking everything for you."

Gran smiled as she watched the two of you. Two of you stared at each other, longingness and comfort in each other's presence. Soon however you realised you were too focused on his lips moving that you weren't listening to a thing.

"Hey (Y/N) ? You good?" He blinked, waving his arm at your face.

"Yeah!" You say flustered and hastily look at the empty plates on the table, "I'll clean up!"

Gran's eyelids grew heavy, she excused herself to bed. Caleb offered to help clean up, his eyes never leaving you.

The moment the door to Gran's bedroom clicked shut, the air in the kitchen changed. The tension between you grew palpable, a silent symphony of desire. Caleb's gaze traveled down your body, taking in your figure and the way the soft light kissed your skin. He had always found you attractive, but tonight you looked absolutely irresistible.

Feeling his gaze sharply runs a tingling sensation up your back as you stood at the sink. You wore a tube top with your mini pajama pants that flared out just bellow your butt. You wore this plenty of times, however, something made you a little nervous about wearing it today.

"That pj... is looking quiet small pipsqueak?" Caleb raised his eyebrow, setting down the bowls, "You better get bigger sizes next time."

"Are you telling me my size is a problem?" You flushed pouting.

"You did gain a bit of weight...pfft" Caleb tried to hold in his laugh which pissed you off. Immediately you grab hold of the washer pipe of the kitchen sink and spray water in his direction. Swiftly he raised his hands causing the water to stay mid air. This annoyed you even more - he was using his gravitational evol!

"Nice try." Caleb smirks. You start chasing him around the kitchen counter while the splashes of water remained mid air.

"You're mean!" You hissed annoyed glaring at Caleb who grinned cheekily.

"How's it my fault you're gaining weight!?"

"I haven't gained weight!"

"Your Hunter uniform probably squeezed everything to perfect shape but that mini pj's ain't cutting pipsqueak. I can clearly see your panties."

"Liar."

"Your (F/C) is flashing for me." He teases, raising his brows amused.

You flushed a shade of red embarrassed. He wasn't lying. You consciously tug at your hem of your pj pants, it was still failing to cover your panties.

"Look at you all conscious now." Caleb teased, "I've seen your panties before. Matter of fact they used to be in the laundry - I remember drying them too."

"CALEB!"

"Hey shush!" Caleb meekly put a finger on his lips, "Grans sleeping."

"Hmph!" You folded your arms defiantly causing him to gush at your cute reaction.

Cheekily, he deactivated his power, causing the water that was in the air to fall on you. Your drenched (H/c) clasped onto your face, as you felt the icy water rush along your skin as you gasped for air at the sudden splash.

His laughter filled the kitchen, your own following soon after. His chest heaved as he calmed down and throws a towel on your head. Casually, like back in your childhood, his fingers massaged into your scalp. The towel tangling strands of your (H/C) hair and he pats your back.

"Let's go to the lounge. I'll dry it off like the good ol' days."

"I'm not a kid anymore." You whined but Caleb was already shoving you towards the lounge.

You huffed in defiance, sinking into the soft sofa and allowed him to continue as he stood behind the sofa.

"Not a kid anymore but you got an attitude like one. Why don' you open the gifts now"

You held your tongue from retorting anything and decided to open it anywhere.

As (Y/N) picked up each gift, your heart raced. What could they be? The anticipation grew with every box she uncovered.

First gift was a novel book - Kitten by S.

"Oooo," You raised an eyebrow, turning the pages, "Have you read the book?"

"Nope." Caleb chimed, "Apparently it's the latest romance novel in Linkon. Author remains anonymous yet owns the biggest library in Linkon. Heard no one's ever seen him."

As I flipped the pages, the breeze smelled faintly of distant lands. I lay it down and dig into the next gift. A stuffed animal that seemed to hold a secret life of its own.

"Awww this is a cutie!" You hold out a mini penguin over your head and Caleb laughs.

"Just like you! " Caleb cheers and puts the towel over his shoulder, "Check the last gift. You're gonna love it!"

Your hand reached out and grabbed a box.

Your cheeks burn embarassed. A sleek, black device, nestled in velvet, that could only be one thing. The room grew still, the only sound the crackle of the fire. You looked up at him, her eyes wide and unsure. Caleb's smile faltered.

"Oh crap-" he said cursing himself as his ears turned red.

[sometimeslwish]

'Bout It

As promised, part two is here.

Just like last time, honorable mention to this post by @luli-lads I was reminded of it while writing one of the scenes. It's not exactly like it, but it's got the jist of it.

There might be a spinoff fic about Xav and Tanya's first time, written with the reader as Tanya, but it's a big maybe; it's part of one of the many drafts that I lost when my old cellphone broke, so take this with a grain of salt.

Word count: 3890

Tags: Zayne x non-mc reader x Sylus, college au, gn!reader, there's no mc here, reader is addressed as she/her by general public but stays otherwise genderless (I forgot about that part while writing the scene), barely any angst in here, no beta reader we die like Grandma Josephine, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, my love, darling), cursing, name calling (slut), kissing, sex, no genitalia mentioned, implied double penetration, happy ending, Xavier makes a cameo.

Tag yourselves in this, I'll go first; I'm Tanya near the end. Her ramble about Xavier was inspired by my stream of thoughts when it comes to him.

Part 1

Part 2

You lean in to kiss him. 

You didn't mean to, he just looked so hot using all those medical terms and speaking so confidently that you couldn't help it. You're in the library, to make matters worse, already leaning close to each other so you can whisper comfortably. 

So yeah, you kissed him. 

His lips were soft, sweet from the last treat he ate, and incredibly addictive.

You don't get to apologize because he pulls you back in for a second kiss. It's a bit awkward, so you take the lead by holding his chin and guiding his movements. 

It takes a while for both of you to stop. You separate only to see his blush and go back to kissing him because of the cuteness aggression, and then he grows more confident and decides to lean back in to kiss you like he needs you. You finally break apart when both of you need air, and still, you can't stop from pecking his lips over and over. 

You sigh through your nose, forehead resting against his with a hand you never remember moving at his nape, playing with the hairs at the back of his head. One of his hands comes up to caress your cheek before he kisses you again. It's the last one he gives because Sylus walks up to your table and sits across from you. 

“Oh no, don't stop on my behalf, you two were clearly having fun,” He says when you separate, and the knowing smirk on his face makes you feel like your face lit up in flames. 

“Oh, shut up.” you mutter before forcing yourself back into doing your assignment. 

You keep sneaking glances at either of them. Sylus catches you a few times and grins in that infuriating way of his; Zayne only stares back, eyes dropping to your lips before coming back to your eyes. 

You're the one that looks away first each time. 

You don't talk about it, even though you know you should.

It becomes a little thing that happened.

. . . . .

You’re being hot and cold with them. 

You can't even lie to yourself about it; you cancel some plans and show up to others, make up excuses that hold some truth but not all of it.

You're trying to distance yourself and failing horribly at it. 

It became too much. The shared glances with Zayne and the lingering touches from Sylus. All the flirting disguised as compliments and teasing. It was a joke, none of it was serious, just like it always is when you flirt with your friends.

But then you kissed Zayne and crossed a line you didn't know you were barreling towards, almost kissed Sylus at a later date– someone walked in and interrupted right after he had leaned in and told you to stop him, and you had stayed quiet– and got snapped back into place after being plunged into a pit filled with cold water and realization 

You wanted to kiss Sylus just as bad as you had wanted to kiss Zayne. Sought out their company with equal intensity and interest. Talked about Zayne with Sylus with the same fondness and exasperation you would talk about Sylus with when ranting to Zayne.

It wasn't just Zayne, like you had initially thought, it was also Sylus. 

You had clung to Zayne in the same way a stray cat clings to their new owner– a decision made in a split second because the moment you had seen his eyes you had known, you felt it in your soul, that you were going to be his and he was going to be yours no matter what. But Sylus, oh, Sylus had walked in behind him like he already owned your heart and you hadn't even noticed nor cared to stop him. 

You loved them. A lot more than you cared to admit. 

. . . . .

Rumors start running around.

That they don't know who's dating who, that maybe all three of you are together, or that someone is getting cheated on. Either way, you're the only one getting dragged through the mud.

How dare she come between them? She's such a slut.

They're best friends, does she have no shame?

She's so greedy, is Zayne not enough for her?

She should be grateful for Sylus, does she have to go after Zayne too? 

They're dating each other and she's trying to get in between, she should catch a hint and back off.

The whispers leave you more confused than hurt.

“Are you two dating?” The question goes around and around in your head until you can't keep it in and blurt it out the moment you find them. 

They're at the usual table in the library– not the one you first saw Zayne on, the one Sylus had guided you towards after you had grown close– hidden amidst shelves, a somewhat cozy quiet corner that allowed some privacy, even if a bit impractical because of the distance.

Sylus and Zayne exchange a look as you take a seat. You leave your bag on the seat next to you, pulling out your things.

“What brought you to that conclusion?” 

“I keep hearing rumors and well– I know it's not my business, I just– I couldn't stop thinking about it.” 

There's a mischievous tilt on Sylus's lips as he answers, “No, sweetie, we're not dating,” he looks back down at his book and adds, voice dry, “Doctor Sexy here is apparently much too dense to notice my advances.” 

You giggle as Zayne holds the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “Sylus, for the love of everything sweet–” He starts to say, only to get interrupted by Sylus snapping closed the book he was reading. Sylus carries on, undeterred, telling a story about how Zayne completely missed the point of one of his pick up lines and went on a tangent about the science behind it. Even goes as far as changing his posture to match Zayne’s and repeating the whole speech Zayne had given him while imitating his voice and speech patterns.

You snort and hide half of your face with your notebook, trying to laugh quietly while they continue bickering like a married couple. 

“You look great together– you're even acting like a married couple right now.” you admit in a low voice, interrupting their little stare standoff, “You would make a great couple, you should totally date.” Both of them turn to you, but you're too concentrated on the book in front of you to catch their confusion or surprise. 

You don't catch the way both of them falter. How Zayne goes beyond focused-quiet to thinking-quiet and Sylus's usually sharp, concentrated frown takes more of a duller, thoughtful edge. 

They share a look. 

Zayne is doubtful, Sylus is determined. 

This is gonna take a while.

. . . . .

The rumors die down. 

At least the worst parts of it, you still catch a few whispers here and there, but you're no longer being dragged through the mud.

Anyone who ever “whispered”– because let's be honest, they weren't really whispering, they wanted you to hear how they insulted you– while staring at you will not even look you in the eyes anymore. 

You don't notice the way they're more careful around you, how they make way and keep quiet when you pass by.

You're too lost in your troubled head to take notice.

. . . . .

“You keep zoning out,” Tanya states, “what happened?” Her stance doesn't hold space for you to lie, so you sigh and start airing the thoughts out. 

You're stressed– 

“As always, it's your default state at this point.”

“Yes, but not in that way, more in the ‘I don't know what the fuck to do about the men I love'”

“‘Men’?” She parrots, you nod nervously, “Plural?” She checks again, “Oh, we need snacks and shit for this, hold on–” she scrambles through the dorm, grabbing a lone bag of chips and two water bottles. (Life of a college student, everyone; broke and making due with what you’ve got.) 

She pulls you toward the couch so you can sit down and leaves, only to come back with blankets. She gives you yours, making you wrap yourself with it before doing the same and sitting down beside you.

“Okay, start talking.” 

You go into detail; tell her everything from the beginning, add in the details you omitted before and things you forgot to tell her about. 

She reacts, incapable of keeping her face blank and her thoughts to herself; gasps, smacks her hand to her mouth when you leave her speechless, ‘oh my god’s and ‘no, you/he didn't’s. 

“Damn,” she says– unhelpful but relatable ‘cause damn indeed, what a peculiar mess you got yourself into– when you run out of breath and all your worries have finally run free from your mind. 

“Do you have to choose?” she asks, and the emphasis on “have” makes you frown, “I mean– to me, it looks like you're all into each other, so maybe you could just tell them and talk about it. Who knows? Maybe they'd be into it.” 

“But–” you scratch your arm, “don't you think I'm being, I don't know, greedy? Selfish?” you stare down at your hands, “A whore?”

“Everyone has to be a bit selfish to be happy, you know? And it's not like you're cheating if both of them were to agree–” she pauses and squints at you, “do you plan on cheating if they don't?”

You blanch, “No! Of course not!” 

“Then you shouldn't worry about it,” she shrugs before popping a chip into her mouth, “go for it, get those dicks and have some fun, nasty, consensual sex.” 

She laughs when you smack her arm, teases you some more before the conversation centers on her.

. . . . .

You’re being sandwiched by them. 

Actually sandwiched. It's not a dream and you're not drunk. 

Sylus is on one side, Zayne on the other. The latter currently leaving kisses over your neck and shoulder while the former is kissing you like he wants to syphon your soul out of your body through your mouth.

You can't do much besides cling to them, breathless and out of it as they have their way with you. 

Their attention is overwhelming in a way you welcome. Compliments, encouragements, reassurances, it all turns you into mush in their dexterous hands.

You don't know who to call for as their hands roam your body. You moan and gasp and whimper as they litter kisses and marks over your body. 

The pleasure is a lot and you're addicted.

“Please,” you say, but you don't know what you're asking for. 

“Please what, my love?” Zayne whispers, and hearing that pet name from his lips is like seeing the pearly gates. You nearly roll your eyes when he nibbles your ear. 

“I don't know,” you whine, pulling at them to get closer, “Just– please.” 

Sylus chuckles, deep and rich and amused, “Need more of us, sweet thing?” 

You nod, looking up to him through your eyelashes, “Yes.”

“So greedy,” Zayne teases, you can hear his smirk on his voice, feel it against your neck as he nuzzles the skin there.

“Don't worry, we got you.” 

And oh boy, do they. 

They work in tandem. If you thought the beginning was overwhelming, you were in for a treat. 

They take turns undressing you and kissing the newly exposed skin. You get to cum in Sylus's mouth during that process, sitting on Zayne's lap with your legs kept open by him. Seeing them make out after re-lit the fire in your veins. 

Then it's their fingers. First Zayne’s, then Sylus’s as they stretch you out for them. You come again, lying between them with your legs held open. 

You're really close to begging when Zayne is finally inside you. Sylus’s fingers never leave you as you ride Zayne, working to keep stretching you until he finally relents and joins in. 

The stretch leaves you trembling like a leaf in the wind, but nothing compares to them moving together inside you. 

Internally, you know that you're ruined. Nothing else will measure up to this– to them, to their touch and their attention. Their love.

. . . . .

“You fucked them, didn't you?” 

Tanya's voice comes from the speaker of your phone. A second into the video call, and she's already clocked it.

“How the fuck did you know?”

She raises a finger, “One: you're glowing, you can only glow in that type of way after an orgasm– or a good fuck, in your case.” she wiggles her eyebrows while smirking. Your face feels hot at her statement, but she pays no mind to your flustered state and carries on. 

“Two: I don't recognize the background, that means you stayed at..”

“Zayne's” you fill in the gap.

“Zayne's instead of our dorm, wonderful. Three: you got a stupid smile on your face.” You splutter at that and she laughs, loud and unashamed. 

“Four: you got hickeys on your neck–” You cover your throat, but it's already far too late for that.– “And five– speak for me again…” 

“Uh… what do you want me to say?”

“Yeah, five: your voice sounds a bit rough.” She brings her phone closer to her face and smirks, “They made you scream, huh?” 

“Get the fuck out my face.” 

She giggles and pulls the phone away. You want to be mad at her, but that's your best friend right there. You stare at each other in silence before you start laughing and celebrating. 

“Ohhh, look at you go, you little minx. Did you talk before or after? Please, tell me you talked.” 

You nod before speaking, “Last night, actually.” You bite your lip and smile, “We're all dating now.” 

“Let's fucking gooooo!” The screen goes blurry, you guess she's either shaking the phone or jumping. Or both.

“It's gonna be just us and we'll be taking it slow, figure things out with each other.” You speak again once you can see her clearly again; she's lying down in bed, phone propped on the mattress.

“Aaww, that's so sweeet,” she sighs and looks up at the heavens, “god, when will it be my turn? I've seen what you've done for others, why not for me?...” 

You giggle at Tanya's antics and shift a little when Sylus comes into the room. He's decent, wearing some borrowed sweatpants from Zayne– scratch that, you don't think you could call that decent, he's not wearing boxers and there's a fucking out line of his dick. Not to mention the marks littered on his chest and neck, there's also a few scratches you don't remember leaving, but oh well.

His steps are quiet as he approaches you, crawling on the bed until he reaches you. 

“Is that Tanya?” The question comes in a low whisper. You nod with a soft smile, you can still hear her monologuing about romance and luck, but you're more focused on the man in front of you to properly listen to her. He settles between your legs, lying down to rest his head on your stomach. You can't help but combing your fingers through his hair.

“... Am I asking for too much? It's literally just one guy.” You tune back into her rambling after Sylus kisses your stomach and huff out a laugh once it clicks.

“Still no progress with Xavier?” 

She groans, “Dude, you don't get it. He's so fucking–” her hands grip the sheets like they're a life line and you nod solemnly.

“Of course.”

“Like, his eyes, oh my god, his eyes. How is it that a mere shade of blue has rendered me so fucking useless? I'm smarter than this, yet that man turns me into a fucking buffoon with just one look!” 

Oh, that intense. She only brings out the big words and elegant manner of speech when rambling about something she feels passionate about. A habit of hers you've always found adorable and funny.

“There's that thing he does where he looks surprised and his eyes get wider, it's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life; his puppy eyes would be killer if he ever chose to use them on me. Honestly, I'd give him my soul, I am not even joking...”

You don't judge her. The shade of red you would do anything for is currently in your arms, looking like a pleased cat as you play with his hair, and your shade of hazel…

“... I don't know how he does it, like, how can he be so adorable and hot at the same time?...”

“Where's Zayne?” You ask in a whisper, tilting your phone slightly so you can see him while still being on the frame.

“Went out to get some desserts and food, told him he could just order in, but there's a specific pastry he wanted and they don't do deliveries this far out.” 

You can guess which one it is, you're the one that introduced that place to him.

“...Oh! And his hair, dude, you gotta see his hair. It's so fucking fluffy!...” You smile at Tanya as she rambles. It's the liveliest you've seen her in weeks, you really hope it all works out.

“And you decided to stay behind.” 

“Didn’t want you to wake up alone and confused when no one was home.” 

Your smile grows bigger at that and you lean to kiss his forehead.

“My sweet baby.”

The soft moment gets ruined when Tanya stops rambling about Xavier. 

“... Sylus is there with you, isn't he?” you yelp at her accuracy and how much louder her voice sounds. You look back at the device to see only her forehead and top of her hair on the screen; as if getting closer to the phone might let her look into the room.

You laugh, parts embarrassed and parts amused. Sylus lifts up his head and you tilt your phone in his direction to make it easier for him. 

“Tanya.” he says, in lieu of a getting.

“Sylus.” she answers, in the same tone and everything, “I'll have you know that if either of you cross her, I know how to dispose of a body without leaving evidence behind.” 

Sylus laughs. Not mockingly or nervously, but amused, “Noted. But you won't have to worry about that, we plan on absolutely spoiling her.” 

There are hearts in his eyes when he looks at you, a soft smile grazing his features and the red in them gleaming like rubies. You wonder if he's always looked at you like this. You wonder how you missed it all this time. 

Tanya gags from behind the screen, “Okay, that's enough of that, I'll leave you to it. Have fun! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” 

“But–” You don't get to say anything because she hangs up. You look at Sylus, a little lost, “But there's a lot of things she would do, how am I supposed to decide?” 

He chuckles and your phone gets forgotten on the bed as he rises up to tower above you, “Want some help?” he leans closer, his lips a hair away from yours, “Yes? No? Maybe so?” 

By the time Zayne comes back home, Sylus is thrusting deep into you while you add onto the scratches on his back. He joins in on the fun and you and Sylus get to torture him a little bit before it's time to eat. 

. . . . .

Neither Zayne or Sylus care about hiding their affection towards you, or each other. 

They kiss, hold your hand, pull you close.

They don't hold back in public at all, now that the relationship is officially established.

It takes you a while to get used to that new change. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Tanya asks when you reveal to her that they had been together before you met them.

You hadn't been surprised to learn they were friends with benefits before you came into the picture, right on their way to being lovers right as they got to know you. They had decided to wait for you to make anything official, because both of them knew the moment they met you. 

“Yeah, no, me neither. Had you been there with me, you would've been like ‘oh, they're fuckin’, for sure’” she hums and drinks from her smoothie.

“Look at you, having your destined love and everything, I'm proud of you.” 

She reaches over for your hand, squeezing before patting it and sighing.

“You lucky little fucker.” She mutters. The sudden switch up startles a laugh out of you. 

. . . . .

dude

(Media attached)

im gonna jump this motherfuckers bones

how fucking dare he look so hot

wish me luck

It's a picture of Xavier. He's wearing form fitting clothes in dark colors that makes his grey hair pop more. The angle is odd, like Tanya is hiding behind something while he looks somewhere out of frame.

Godspeed, soldier 🫡 

“What's so funny, my love?”

You look up at Zayne and smile. You don't think you'll ever get used to him calling you like that, no matter how many months pass. 

“Tanya's out on a date with Xav, she just sent a picture of him with the caption ‘I'm gonna jump this motherfucker’s bones’” 

Zayne raises a questioning eyebrow at the choice of words and you giggle while leaning close to him. 

“I see she finally made a move.” Is what he settles for saying, putting a hand on your back as you walk through the restaurant, following the waitress towards your table.

“Yes and no.” You grin, in on a secret he doesn't know, “Remember that downpour that happened about two weeks ago?” He hums in affirmation and pulls back your chair to help you take a seat, ever the gentleman when it comes to you, “Well, they might've gone back to his apartment…” you pause and stare at him as he takes the seat across from you. You see the moment it clicks for him, a simple, small twitch of an eyebrow and a knowing, barely there smirk. 

“They didn't.” 

You nod, your lips falling into a thin line, “They, in fact, did. Right on the couch too.” 

“And then?” Comes Sylus's voice from behind you. You didn't even notice he arrived.

“Sylus!” you scold in a whisper-yell, clutching your chest to contain your leaping heart. He chuckles and leans to kiss your forehead.

“Sorry, darling, I didn't mean to startle you.” He takes advantage of his position to give Zayne a quick peck before sitting down. The four seat table allows him to sit between the both of you. 

“You said you would be late.”

“Managed to get out early.” You know what that phrase means, but you hold back from scolding him; nothing you say will change his ways. You share a look with Zayne and shake your head.

“As I was saying…” 

You continue talking about Tanya and her adventures until it's time to order, and then the conversation goes through other topics as the sun sets and the night goes by. 

It's like everything and nothing changed at all.

The banter is still there, the jokes, the teasing, the flirting. But now, there's nothing holding you back from reaching for them and holding their hand or kissing them. Nothing holding you back from being bolder with your touches and words. 

It's liberating.

[aintnoloveintheheatofthesun]

Girl, Woman, Other

We know by now that freedom is one of the central themes of Sinners (2025). Some brilliant analysis so far has connected vampirism to colonialism and all of its subsequent miseries but I want to talk about lycanthropy!! As represented by one cheating ass heffa, Pearline.

In gothic literature, werewolves often represent marginalised identities: the queer, the abnormal, the freaks and the weirdos. In this movie, Pearline does all of those things. On the queer coding in Sinners, this post makes several valid points. Some of the most iconic Black women from this era of the Blues were gay. Think Ma Rainey or Bessie Smith; these were queer artists, vocal power houses and badly behaved women. The reference for 'Pale, Pale Moon' track was written and recorded by a Black lesbian artist, Brittany Howard. This leads me to assume that Ms Pearline is Josephine Baker coded (she was a 20th Century dancer, singer and performer who was definitely bisexual).

Gwen C. Katz discusses how lycanthropy can be a thematic vehicle to explore gender norms, social norms and religious expectations. This essay by Katz really helped me understand Pearline as a supernatural being.

At Clarksdale station, the camera focuses on her. Specifically, her gaze as she eyes up her prey. Ms Pearline stands there like a lioness watching a herd of gazelles. She sees something she likes and she pounces. And, when shit goes down, she doesn't hesitate. We see her kick, shoot and stab whichever creature of the night gets in her way. She is a hunter.

A few weeks ago, I gave this commenter a lot of shit for their closed minded, puritanical, holier-than-thou, fucking irritating view on Pearline's dancing. I stand by everything I said with one small addition. That disgust? That shock? That was the exact response her performance was meant to evoke. Equally, my admiration and appreciation? Also by design. I loved the choreography as well as the history behind it. Before, I didn't see it but both me and this commentor were reinforcing Cesar A. Cruz's notion that

'Art should disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed'

I have a deep resentment for the ways that gender roles, western culture and Christianity shame women for existing. Let alone expressing themselves artistically.

Any form of creative work that pushes back against these forces automatically has my respect. Not to mention the fact that all this carnage takes place during the full moon (check behind Remmick's head)

Pearline thee adulterer comes alive on stage, at night, surrounded by drunks. She swings her hips at a young man she has just met and looks back to check he's watching. She gets ate off the bone with her ring on. She refuses one measly clove of garlic then insults Smoke when he treats it like a life or death situation. She represents lust, greed and pride in various quantities. But most of all, she represents lycanthropes!

Her hissing, moaning, crawling and howling all speak to her pursuit of freedom! Her song shows this beautifully. In the studio version of 'Pale, Pale Moon' we hear all manner of creepy sounds. From bats screeching to evil ass laughter, her song is embedded with things of the night.

Ryan Coogler's pen game is something serious. This woman doesn't need do sprout fur and snap bones to embody this other side to her. Lycanthropy is shown through her lyrics, stage presence and physicality.

Let me cook:

She can only reveal her true self by night

Her movements are uninhibited and primal

She is scared of being seen at her most vulnerable (as Preacher Boy is on his knees)

Her hunting skills are second to none (see how easily she staked and stabbed Remmick?)

Pale, Pale Moon literally starts with a howl

She is territorial as hell. By sweating on stage, dragging her body across the floor and grinding on the piano she is marking her scent. The Juke is her home and she fights tooth and nail to defend it.

We see her panting like an animal and baring her teeth on stage

Her song is dedicated to the moon

She has a strong aversion to certain foods (think how werewolves have heightened senses)

The Juke Joint just opened that night. Pearline met Sammie a few hours before yet when she has a chance to leave she doesn't take it. Instead, she stays to defend her pack. Her loyalty runs deep.

TLDR - In a patriarchal society that assigns worth and respectability based on religious teachings, a lycanthrope is a woman with sexual agency.

Pearline is a werewolf.

Shout out to @jukesjoint for opening my eyes. I got as far as Pearline = Josephine Baker but the queer element was lost on me. Thank you for your service

[writingescapades]

The Deal

Fields of Mistria

Balor x farmer / player

At first, Balor thought the new farmer would be a good fit for Mistria. Though you lacked experience, your determination was steadfast. You did not abhor hard work and were always ready to lend a hand with a smile on your face, no matter how tired you were. Such traits were needed for a small rural village, especially after the recent storm. You helped repair the bridge, allowing the Saturday markets to return once more. You even helped Balor deliver goods to Holt and Nora, adding a gleaming gold gloss to Balor’s purse. Yet, when Balor tried to thank you with a meal at the inn, you refused point blank. He wasn’t entirely surprised by the rejection. Most people understood him to be suspicious and secretive, but, Balor realized, you didn’t treat him any differently from the other villagers.

You didn’t grumble when Adelaid asked your help in another task to develop Mistria, even though the task would require a ridiculous number of resources. You didn’t refuse Juniper’s offer to be her guinea pig, even though you passed out more than once from her brews. There was always some artifact for the museum and a bug for Luc. You always gave the villagers want they wanted without asking anything in return. It went against everything Balor did, and he would have avoided you were it not for that one trait. You provided but never participated. Even now, Balor could see that as you drifted around the inn, half listening to the different group conversations. This was your routine. You moseyed around with your drink. If someone roped you into the conversation, you conversed pleasantly, but soon enough, you reverted back to your wanderer state. And you always left when the drink was finished.

You had now made your way over to his table and were watching the game he played with the other villagers. He could feel you standing behind him and a slight chill ran down his spine. Balor turned to greet you, but before he could say anything, a loud clamour snapped both your heads towards the bar. Hemlock was regaling the villagers with the story of how he and Josephine met, and the villagers, now half drunk, happily ate up Hemlock’s tall tales of espionage and escapades.

“Must be nice,” Balor muttered.

You turned to him, confused.

“I never missed much as a travelling merchant. But watching Hemlock, Josphine, and their kids makes one think that settling down might not be such a bad thing”.

Balor turned to you, expecting to hear the usual words of agreement, followed by a slight teasing on whether he has an eye on someone in the village.

Instead your face stilled as you watched Hemlock and Josephine. Then you turned, and in a dull voice spoke, “I suppose”.

You left before finishing your drink.

___

Balor always left your farm for last when he picked up supplies. Six months into your first year, yet still, wild trees and grass littered your farm. One had to walk through a mini forest before coming across a small clearing where your farm persisted, if it could even be called that. It was more of a garden than farm and you only had one cow who spent most of her time following you about the farm.

Balor was surprised to see you sitting on a stone bench, petting your cow. The sun had set, and, like the other villagers, you should have been indoors, in the warmth.

“Evening farmer,” he called out.

You looked at him, nodded, and gave a polite wave, but continued to pet the cow. Balor knew your attention was not on him, but the events of the last game night danced through his mind. Why had you reacted like that?

Balor looked into the bin and saw bushels of wheat, some fall flowers, and a milk churn. The wheat and flowers would sell well, but it was the milk he sought. It had become popular around Mistria with Nora and Josephine competing over it. Even the other villagers wanted some, though most got it through the inn or the general store. Balor was dying to introduce it to the Saturday merchants, and he knew it would sell well outside Mistria. But, he looked up at you, you only had the one cow and didn’t seem all that interested in raking a profit. Again, he wondered if the young baroness and baron made the right decision in bringing you to Mistria. From the quality of your produce, you clearly understood farming, but you barely produced enough to make a profit.

As he hefted the wheat over his shoulders, he turned and saw you had already picked up the milk churn and flowers.

“I’ll help you,” was all you mentioned.

“I suppose, I’ll have to start bringing my cart to your farm,” Balor said, then wondered if it was too obvious a hint. But you just smiled.

The cow followed behind the two of you as you made the short walk to Balor’s cart. As Balor put away your produce, he noticed you peering into his stall, lingering around. The cow was drinking from the stream.

“Anything caught your eye?” he asked, trying to guess what the item was before you could respond.

“No,” you replied.

An uncomfortable silence passed between you two. Balor wondered what could have possibly happened to scramble the tender relations that only recently formed. Were you not allies? When you helped him out, you asked questions, but didn’t prod too much. Either you understood that some topics were best left in storage, or you didn’t care. He assumed the latter and found your straightforward approach a genuine comfort. A comfort that grew when he found himself asking for your advice. An odd request and even odder requestor. Should he comply though? He had a reputation to live up to and a profit to maintain. Though your honest opinion of it being a shady request didn’t deter him, Balor was surprised by your concern for his wellbeing.

Be careful. I’m sure Hemlock and Josephine would miss your presence, not to mention your role play group.

But he had just laughed and supposed it was because of the time and money he spent at the inn. The request kept him busy and away from most people, including you. Yet, he was there Friday night, weary, and a little more wiser. Balor had been focused on the game, but his eyes drifted up every time someone entered the inn. When you finally arrived, he saw how your eyes searched until they singled him out and the quiet exhale as you gave him a grin and a nod which he returned with a wink and thumbs up. As ease settled between you since that moment in the inn. So what did he say to mess things up so fast?

“Balor,” you called, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Hold out your hand”.

“Why’s that?” Balor asked. Though his curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t help but slip back into his guard, waiting to defend.

Not bothering to respond, you held out your hands. They were clean though Balor could see the dirt marks around your fingernails. He could see the callousness beginning to form and the slight tightness of your skin from the dry air. Then his eyes noticed what was encased in your palm. A ruby. It was uncut, but his experienced eyes could tell it would fetch a tidy sum.

“Is this another item to ship? Or do you want me to send it to get cut?” he asked.

“It’s for you”.

Balor snapped his eyes towards yours. They were clear and serious.

“What for?”

“To apologize for my behaviour last Friday. I made you the target of my emotions. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that”.

“You hardly took out your emotions, and ruby seems like overcompensation. Are you planning on repeating your outburst in the future?”

The unexpected ribbing pulled a half-smile and snort out of you, but the tension was immediately cut.

“You didn’t deserve it”.

“Yes,” Balor agreed as he pushed his hair back haughtily. “There are a lot of treatments I don’t deserve. Too bad I don’t get a gem every time it occurs. I would never have to work again”.

You raised your eyebrows as you took in this new fact about the merchant.

“But,” Balor continued, “given the worth of the item, I can only accept this if you plan on showing more emotions in the future”.

“I don’t plan on doing that”.

Balor shrugged, folded his arms, and leaned against his cart. “Then, I cannot accept this”.

The truth was, Balor didn’t want any gift. He didn’t know what he did or said that upset you, so he could hardly accept such an expensive item. Balor knew he was the last person to go poking his nose into someone else’s business. But, he realized, he at least had a reputation. People knew he loved the inn. Loved his work. Loved travelling. Loved gems. They pulled him into community and social events. They relied on him, conversed with him, but also gossiped about him. They got annoyed with him and his secretive dealings and mysterious past. They may even dislike him at times. But what presence did you have in Mistria?

“You drive a hard bargain”.

Balor grinned.

“I’m a merchant”.

He knew next to nothing about you, he knew you would take his offer. Though he held no misgivings towards you, to you, refusal would still put you in his debt. And that, you, a provider, could not accept.

You let out a deep sign and placed the ruby on his cart.

“I’ll try. Take it or leave it”.

As you walked towards your cow, Balor called out, “Why don’t you start with telling me what upset you?”

You turned back to him with a cocky grin. “Sorry, the agreement was to show my emotions, not explain them. You’ll have to try and lure me in again, Mr. Merchant”.

Balor laughed and watched you until you disappeared back into your farm. This would be his most interesting deal.

[gogogodzilla]

day 8, almost getting caught

cullen rutherford x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, creampie, unprotected sex, war room sex, semi-public sex kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You knew it was reckless, but that didn’t stop you for a second. You hardly had enough time to say ‘good morning’ before Cullen was off to his duties and you were off to yours. You couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment Leliana and Josephine left the war room you were rounding the table and pulling him into a heated kiss. He paid no mind to the markers you swiped off the map to make room for the two of you, he’d already memorized their locations during the meetings. 

You exchanged heated kisses as clumsy fingers moved to detach the armor and bits of cloth that dared to come between you. 

How you got into this position, back pressed against the hardwood of the table and him moaning above you, was a blur in your lust-filled mind. All you could focus on was how deliciously Cullen was stretching you and how much you needed more, more, more. 

You pulled him closer to you, raking your nails across the broad expanse of his back. You felt his muscles ripple under your touch, and you pressed your fingertips against the now-flushed skin. You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to rut deeper inside you, causing you both to let out whines of pleasure.

“Inquisitor,” he groaned against the shell of your ear as he leaned over you, encompassing the whole of your body with his. 

Voices sounding outside the heavy wooden doors of the war room caused you to tense against Cullen and him to stifle a groan against your shoulder. 

“Josie, I’m sure you didn’t forget it,” Leliana’s voice was muffled behind the doors, but you’d recognize it anywhere. 

“I must be sure, Leliana. It’s my favorite quill; I’ll just be a moment,” came Josephine’s muffled response. Cullen froze above you, both of you straining to hear the conversation just outside the doors. 

“I think I saw it in the rookery when you walked up with me, maybe we should start there? I’m sure the Inquisitor and Commander are still discussing important matters.” Leliana’s voice rose at the last part of her bid to lead Josephine away, and you flushed. Nothing could get past your spymaster. 

It was quiet for a moment, and Cullen slowly picked up where he left off, thrusting deeply inside you. The gasp that escaped you when Cullen hit the particular spot that had your back arching against the hardwood was stifled by his lips against yours. 

The thought of getting caught sent a jolt through your body, and you clenched against him. His pace quickened, and you could tell he thought the same.

“Very well, we can check there first,” Josephine replied and the footsteps receded. 

Cullen cupped your face with one hand and, as his thrusts became sloppier, he kissed you. He pulled away after a moment, just enough to look you in your eyes as he fucked you.  With one final snap of his hips, you were coming undone and his name tumbled past your lips. 

He was soon to follow you off the precipice and he shuddered against you as his hips stilled within you. He pushed the hair out of your face and his gaze softened as he looked down at you. 

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, then to your nose, and finally to your lips. “I missed you, my love,” he whispered against you. 

“Perhaps we should move this to my chambers before Leliana and Josephine come back,” you suggested, a small grin gracing your features. 

A blush spread across Cullen’s face, but he nodded and helped you dress. He was quick to put the markers back into their correct spots and drag you out of the war room to continue your reunion elsewhere.

[colonelkaboom]

Overstepping Boundaries

Zayne struggles with combining your growing relationship with the fact that he is your doctor and finally dares share his concerns with you.

This event takes place whilst Caleb is "gone".

✦ Zayne x Reader ✦ Word count: 1.7 k

Zayne knew that becoming your primary care physician would mean pushing the limits of what was appropriate. You didn’t have an active relationship of any kind, but the history the two of you shared was enough to make him question taking you as a patient. But how could he not become your doctor when your suffering had steered him down this path all those years ago? He would finally be allowed to care for you directly and use all his years of research to help the person who inspired his studies. 

There was also the promise he made to Josephine, your grandmother, that he would help you. He would have done so regardless, in one way or another, but a promise is a promise. You’d be his patient.

Seeing you again was excruciatingly painful, in the best way. You had grown into a beautiful young woman, with the same playful energy you had as a child. It had been a bit awkward during your first few appointments, but soon enough you matched each other perfectly. When you ran into each other at that cafè a while back, and spent time together without the heavy atmosphere of Akso Hospital, things properly began to thaw. 

Which was part of the problem. Zayne worried that perhaps you had grown too close for what is appropriate in a Doctor-patient relationship. There was a heavy power imbalance shifted in his favour, although he often felt excruciatingly vulnerable in your presence. If asked, he’d call you a friend. A close one even. And there was no doubt in his mind that you’d say the same thing about him. 

You were close, too close. No closer than any other appointment. No closer than you were when he’d drive you home in his car, or when you’d share food at a restaurant. But here, in his office, you were too close. The physical proximity felt suffocating as his hand gripped the stethoscope gliding over your chest. This is when the proximity should be ok, he is a doctor. He is your doctor. His job is to ensure your physical health remains intact, inside this office is where he is able to ensure his duties are fulfilled. Why was it harder to be close to you here, than everywhere else?

Because here, he was Dr. Zayne and you were Miss Hunter. Out there, formal titles and professional obligations were sealed away in the back of his mind.

“Zayne? Are you ok?” He blinked quickly as the sound of your voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. Zayne quickly retracted the stethoscope from your chest and rubbed his forehead in desperation. 

“Am I ok? Should I worry about whatever my heart just told you?” Your uncertain chuckle made Zayne return his focus to you. However his mind was stuck on how you had worded your question. What did your heart tell him? If only he could listen to the emotional secrets your heart carried as easily as he could listen to your heart beat. 

“You’re usually a man of few words, but I’m kinda getting concerned now, Zayne. Has my protocore syndrome worsened?”

“No, I’m sorry. Your heart is fine. Well, not fine, but unchanged from our last appointment. I just have a lot on my mind and it seems to be affecting my ability to perform my work adequately.” Slightly startled by his own honesty, Zayne straightens his posture and spins his chair away from you. Unsure of what to do, you remain quiet hoping he’ll shed some light on whatever is bothering him. However, knowing Zayne, you were preparing to do some digging.

“Zayne..? Are you going to make me beg, or will you share your troubles with me willingly?”

“Beg all you want. If I can’t find the proper words to sufficiently express myself, I will not be sharing my troubles with you tonight.”

“Well, I’m not going to beg unless there is a slightly higher certainty of a reward. I guess I’ll just be stubborn and refuse to leave this room until you let me help you.” You cross your arms and give him a defiant stare. His stiff expression relaxes and he dares face you once more.

“You are the only patient of mine over the age of five who dares express such an attitude toward me.” You make an attempt at a pout, but it quickly evolves into a smile when you see Zayne’s facade soften once more.

“I… - I am concerned about our relationship.” He slowly says. The seriousness of his tone makes you quiver.

“Our relationship?” You question, genuinely uncertain about the meaning of his confession.

“How our friendship has become too personal for me to properly maintain the boundaries this office requires.” The softness in his voice indicates sadness and perhaps embarrassment at his own inadequate professionalism. 

“Dr. Zayne… Are you breaking up with me?” Leaning forward with a playful smile you grab his hand and cradle it in yours. His reaction was anything but what you were hoping for as he flinched at your touch and returned to his previous position. Perfect posture, tight jaw, facing away from you.

“Sorry…” You whisper, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.

“You have nothing to apologize for, this overstep is my responsibility. I never should have taken you on as a patient in the first place, given our history.”

“But, if you hadn’t, we probably never would have reconnected.” Noticing the obvious pain on your face it dawned on him how unintentionally hurtful his last words were.

“I’ll just leave, I never intended to make you uncomfortable.” As you hesitantly arose from your chair Zayne’s hand quickly grabs your wrist before you have time to turn away from him. 

“I took you on as a patient because I was curious about your condition, and because I was curious about you. I have been overstepping boundaries since before our first appointment, and I am ashamed of myself for it.” He looks up at you from his chair, and for the first time ever, you think he looks small. 

“However, there is no shame attached to our friendship and it would sadden me greatly if you walked out that door before we find a resolution that we can both be comfortable with.” His pleading eyes are begging you to stay by his side.

Your gaze falls on his hand clutching yours, his cold fingers searching for your warmth. Leaving the room would be a terribly hard choice to make, sitting back down was easy. You gently lace your fingers with his and sit back down.

“I don’t want another doctor, I want my doctor.” You tighten your grip on his hands hoping it could carry the force your voice was unable to convey. 

You can tell that Zayne’s eyes are trying to hide how relieved and proud your words just made him. 

“Going to the doctor has never been easier. I even look forward to coming here, to see you. Of course I would prefer to meet you outside of the hospital, but when your best friend is a workaholic like no other, finding the time gets a bit tricky.” You called him your best friend. The title carried so much weight now that Caleb was no longer around to fill the role. Zayne had no desire to even attempt to take Caleb’s place, but he was ready to be whatever you needed and more.

“Did you know I’ve selfishly scheduled our appointments to be my last of the day as often as possible, so that I can drive you home afterwards.” He admits.

“Did you know, I always take the bus to our appointments, rather than my motorcycle, hoping you’ll offer to drive me home afterwards?” The smiles on your faces grow in unison as you relax in the familiar closeness. 

“Please be my doctor, Zayne. I don’t want anyone else.” Zayne pursed his lips as he glanced away for a second.

“You must promise me that if I make you uncomfortable, in any way, by being involved in too many aspects of your life, particularly regarding what happens in this room, you will tell me. No hesitating allowed. Will you listen to your doctor's orders, for once?”

“I’ll listen. This time…” The mischief in your eyes causes Zayne to roll his. 

“Is this the first time you’re breaking a rule, Zayne?”

“I’ve broken rules in the past, although I never do it lightly. You, however, seem far too comfortable with rule breaking.” He flips through some papers on his desk, organizing them and signing his name on a few. 

Feeling brave you lunge forward and snatch the pen from his grasp. Quickly you get up from your chair and retreat to the opposite side of his desk. The look on his face makes you thankful for the broad piece of furniture in between you. He slowly stands from his chair and towers over you. With both arms securely planted on the desk, he leans forward and whispers - “Thievery is frowned upon in most parts of the world, I would suggest you don’t make this a habit. Others might not take as kindly to your antics.”

The tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, tickling a nerve you didn’t know you had.

“Dr. Zayne, you’re making me very uncomfortable right now.” You tease as you lean forward and copy his dominating stance. His gaze suddenly intensified at your challenging words. He knew you were only testing his patience, but he’s had a long day and it was wearing thin before you even entered the room.

“I would not advise you to abuse the power I so kindly granted you, Miss Hunter.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it, Dr. Zayne?”

Zayne had several ideas for appropriate punishments in mind, however that would certainly be inappropriate action to take within the confines of his office. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to gather himself before he spoke again and offered to drive you home…

AN: Idk about other places in the world, but where I'm from, Zayne would no longer be MC's doctor. I'm really glad it doesn't seem to actually be an issue in their world though. Also, I don't know where my head was going toward the end, but it went there so I hope you don't mind.

Read more ll Masterlist ll Colonel Kaboom 𓂃🖊

[jjsmaybank20]

Future Lives

Leighton Murray x fem!reader

Summary: A fluffy day at the beach set about 10 years after the suitemates graduation.

Warnings: L-bomb, just fluff, light language

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Sorry there has been such a gap between fics! The request for this can be found here.

navigation  the sex lives of college girls masterlist

---

Leighton leans back in her chair, pushing her sunglasses further up her face. To her right lies Kimberly and Lila, and sitting to her left is Bela and Whitney. She smiles at her friends, thinking to herself about just how far they’ve come since that first day in the suite at Essex. 

She buries her feet in the sand, contently closing her eyes. Her peace is quickly interrupted when she hears the familiar squawk of alarm from her wife. Her eyes snap open, quickly searching for you among the people in front of her on the sand, but as soon as she finds you, she rolls her eyes. 

You are face down in the sand, with about 5 kids on your back. Two of them are yours, Noah, and Maia, with matching sandy blonde hair, one is Kimberly’s, Josephine, who shares her mother’s smile, and one is Bela’s, Viaan, who has the same humor as his mom. The fifth is not one that Leighton recognises, but you are known to temporarily pick up a few stray children whenever you play with the kids. It’s one of the things she loves about you, how easy it is for you to match your children’s energy and excitement in everything they do.

 Kimberly taps the blonde, giving her an amused and slightly concerned look. “Should we send the partners to help her, or…” Leighton shakes her head, willing to just let it play out. 

They group watches as you slowly push off the ground, getting up haltingly with kids hanging off of every limb. You jokingly roar and shake them off of you, before shooing them off to go dig a hole or something. 

The kids swarm the rest of the groups’ partners, who have been tirelessly digging out a moat for a sandcastle. Bela’s husband, Kimberly’s husband, and Whitney and Lila’s current boyfriends easily adjust to the new and much younger additions to their team. 

You approach the relaxing friend group, jokingly leaning down to give Leighton a kiss. She shies away, pushing your face in protest and complaining, “Ach! You’re getting sand on me!”

You laugh, taking a step back and replying, “Love, we’re at the beach. This whole damn place is sand.” 

Just as you finish your sentence, you feel little hands grab your leg. Glancing down, your 5-year-old daughter Maia grins up at you. “Mama! You said a no-no word!” You look at your wife, but Leighton just stares back at you with a look that says ‘she’s not wrong’. 

You easily scoop Maia up into your arms, tickling her until she can barely breathe. “Is that right? I said a no-no word?” 

“Stop it, Mama! Mommy, save me!” Maia pushes your hands away, panting out little giggles as she tries to catch her breath. 

You quickly pass the little girl to Leighton, who smooths down her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. A soft smile forms on your face as you watch your two girls, but your thoughts are quickly interrupted by your son. 

“Mama! Mama! Viaan and I need you to be the alligator in the moat!” You glance at the women in front of you, hoping one of them will help you out, but instead you are met with laughs and Lila shooing you off towards the kids. You throw your head back in fake annoyance but go anyway.

“Why can’t Uncle Arvind be the gator?” You ask the two 7-year-olds, who roll their eyes in that way that all kids do. 

“Daddy can’t be the gator because he’s already the drawbridge!” Viaan responds, and you can’t help but laugh at the bad draw Bela’s husband had been dealt. Brian, Kimberly’s husband, didn’t seem to be faring much better with his daughter. 

“Honey, are you sure you want me to be the throne? I could be your royal advisor instead!” Brian’s suggestion is met by a shockingly sharp glare from Josephine, who vehemently stops her foot and shakes her head in the negative. You smile as he gives in, sitting on the ground so that the young girl can clamber into her lap. 

You lay down in the moat—easily giving in to the demands of the children—and start acting like an alligator. You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed, though, because the smiles on the boys’ faces are worth every moment of silliness. 

---

After a while, the kids get bored playing in the sand. They scamper off, allowing you to get up and stretch, shaking all the sand you can off of you. Leighton watches as you walk towards her, moving one of the many beach bags you brought off of a chair so you have a place to kick your feet up.

You collapse into the low-slung seat, leaning towards Leighton as you press a gentle kiss to her cheek. The sigh you let out as you finally relax makes the blonde woman giggle, and the uncomfortable look that you get on your face due to the sand in your swimsuit makes her laugh even harder. 

The rest of your group sits in comfortable quiet for a while, small talk and little comments being passed around. You’ve settled in fully and are engaged in a conversation with Lila about how she found her newest boyfriend (apparently it was through the Uber Eats Instagram page?) when you realize that none of the kids had checked in for a while.

The thought makes you sit up uncomfortably straight, and Leighton turns around when she notices your movement out of the corner of her eye. She quickly takes your hand comfortingly, murmuring, “What is it, babe?”

She watches as your eyes scan the waterline, getting slightly more panicked every time you can’t find the kids. “Love, where are the boys? They have Maia, and Josie. I can’t see them. We shouldn’t have let them go down to the water alone. What if something happened to them? Where are they?!”

She strokes the back of your hand soothingly, pointing straight out in front of you. “It’s okay baby, they’re right there. See?” She makes sure your eyes find where she’s pointing, and she can see you visibly relax as you find your son and daughter splashing around in the part where the waves wash up onto the sand. 

As you get your breathing in check, you finally look over towards your wife with a grateful smile. “Jesus, thank you, love.” You then glance back at the kids. “I think I’m going to go down there. Just to make sure they’re staying safe.” 

Leighton shoos you away gently, and you grin at her before running off. The rest of the group grins at their best friend, who bashfully waves them off. “Oh my god. I never thought I would see the day that Leighton Murray truly went soft. Who knew!” Whitney teases. 

The blonde woman just smiles, keeping her eyes on you and your kids. “Only for them.”

---

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