#i don't mean to complain much but i am not able to do much without feeling like my heart is violently squeezed

[cutieleclerc]

Matchmaker | LN4

lando norris x fem!reader, background lestappen

summary: you try getting involved in max and charles' love lives, and it turns out they're also trying to get involved in yours

At the age of 21 years old, you joined McLaren after becoming a champion in all the junior categories. This made you the first woman in modern F1, and the first woman in several decades. And if people thought that Lando had a lot of energy, they had not met you yet.

Now that your rookie season was halfway done with, you've learned two important things. 1) Lando was very easy to get along with and 2) Max and Charles were certainly in love. 

There were a couple times when you had been on the podium with them, and of course you loved being on the podium, but having to third wheel that pair would drive anyone insane. 

So, when you got back from the summer break, you decided to make it your mission to get them together. Step 1 was telling Lando about your plans.

"Landooo!" you called out as you saw him walking in the paddock up ahead, running to catch up with him. 

"Hey, Y/n/n," he greeted you with a handshake. 

"I have a plan," you said devilishly. 

"Shit, that can never be good."

"Hey! Hear me out. So, Charles and Max, you know?"

"Who? I've never heard of those people in my life," he said sarcastically. 

"Ooookay, I could do without the attitude, thanks. Anyways, I'm sure you've noticed how in love with each other they are. Like hello? They literally scream 'enemies to lovers' trope. You know what I mean? I just need to find a way to get them to confess their undying love for each other." 

Lando's eyes widened and he looked around, making sure that no one was listening before pulling you to the side.

"Oh—jeez, so, you in?"

"The entire grid has been trying to get them together for years, you think that you'll be able to do it?"

"Yeah, obviously, but I'll need a sidekick that's why I'm telling you, so...?" 

He sighed. "Alright, tell me your ideas."

"Yes!"

"But I'm not your sidekick, we're partners in crime, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Anyways, step 1 of 'el plan' is to just subtly start mentioning Max or Charles when in conversation with the other. Get them in each others brains, you know? Like 'Oh Max was saying how he hopes for rain.'

Then, step 2, we start mentioning things that they've said about each other. 'Hey Max, Charles was saying how he always loves his on track battles with you the most,' stuff like that. Then we have to start interrogating them about their love life so they can hopefully admit their feelings. That's all I got so far."

Lando nodded, deep in thought. "Okay, this could work, this could work."

~~~~~~~~~~

Charles won in Monza, with Max and yourself completing the podium. While you were getting your interview done, the two of them seemed to be locked in their "debrief".

"Am I the only one who's noticed all the chemistry between her and Lando?" Max asked.

"You're definitely not the only one, mate. Being in a press conference with those two is unbearable."

"Ugh, yes, like just kiss already. I'm glad I'm not going crazy. We need to do something about it, get them to confess their feelings."

"I agree," Charles replied, staring into Max's eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Later, they were in the press conference room, waiting for it to start, and Max and Charles were chatting away.

Y/n: MATE

Y/n: HELP

Y/n: I CAN'T TAKE THIS THIRD WHEELING

Landhoe: you can't complain you got a podium

Y/n: i actually can complain, i've suffered too much

Landhoe: you like seeing them together, don't lie. 

You grinned at that, then glanced up from your phone to see Max and Charles looking at you. 

"Who you texting?" Max asked.

"Just Lando," you shrugged, confused as Charles and Max gave each other a look.

"You guys seem to be getting along well, no?" Charles asked. 

"Uh yeah, I guess. It helps that we're both pretty similar."

"Yes, yes, very similar," Max nodded, and you raised your eyebrow, side-eyeing them. 

"Anyway, you guys have anyone special in your life, yet?" you asked.

The smirk on Max's face faltered as he glanced at Charles for a millisecond before looking back to her. 

"No, not yet, mate."

"Me neither," Charles added. 

You hummed. "Hm, okay."

~~~~~~~~~~

In Suzuka, Lando and you were talking while walking towards the driver's parade. 

"So I'm going to talk to Charles and you're going to talk to Max, sounds good?"

"Yup, I know the plan," Lando confirmed. 

"Great, we'll debrief after the race."

You spotted Charles and quickly ran up next to him before someone else could start a conversation with him. 

"Hey, Charlie! Congrats on your podium in Singapore!"

"Thanks, mate."

"Man, it's crazy how fast the season flew by, it seems like just yesterday I was a scared little rookie rolling up in Bahrain. Anyway, I was hoping to get your advice on something," you said, trying not to bring up the topic too suddenly. 

"Yeah, of course, go ahead."

"Okay, well, let's say hypothetically in a situation where you like someone, but you're not sure if they like you back, and you don't want to say anything because it could ruin your friendship and it would be awkward because you have to see them for the majority of the year, what would you do?" you asked, trying to gauge his feelings about potentially confessing his feelings. 

Charles glanced somewhere behind you, and you didn't want to look but you would've bet a million bucks that it was at Max.

"Well, if you're feeling like that person even just maybe likes you back, I say go for it. You wouldn't want to waste precious time that you could be spending together because you were too scared."

"So you're saying that if you like someone, you should just go for it?" you confirmed. 

"Yeah."

"Interesting..." you rubbed your chin, then turned to look at Max behind you. 

Meanwhile, Lando and Max were deep in conversation. 

"What would you think if two of the drivers started dating? Cause some of these people have some real chemistry," Lando asked, trying to seem nonchalant. 

Max shrugged. "I mean, yeah, some of us have known each other since our childhoods. I wouldn't be surprised if some crushes have developed. It's not my business, but I don't mind. It would be interesting, though."

"What about Charles and Pierre?" Lando egged on, waiting for a reaction. 

He watched in satisfaction as Max's eyes turned a shade darker and his jaw clenched. "Nah, I don't see it. But you and Y/n seem to be getting awfully close."

Lando couldn't help the blush that painted his cheeks. He tried to say something but was at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. Max started snickering.

"We're just friends," he finally stuttered out.

"Alright, if you say so."

Lando sighed, turning away in disappointment. That did not go according to plan. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Max won the race, and because the McLaren was good in the high speed corners, Lando finished 2nd and yourself 3rd. 

You and Lando hugged as soon as you got out of your cars.

"Wohoooo! Let's go!" you cheered as you both ran to the fence of McLaren workers. 

You got done with the interview and was the first one in the cooldown room. You had put your helmet down on the platform and was drinking your water. You heard the others entering and turned around, bumping into Lando. 

"Oh, shit!" you exclaimed as you dropped your water bottle. 

You both bent down to grab it, causing your hands to touch and both of you to pause. Lando then grabbed you bottle and you both stood up, staring into each others' eyes for a couple seconds before you snapped out of it and moved to grab your water bottle. 

"Thanks," you said quietly. 

Lando was still looking at you, before quickly saying, "You're welcome."

You noticed Max watching you and the camera on you, so you cleared your throat and moved around Lando to sit on one of the chairs. 

"That was a good overtake, in the beginning," you commented to Max, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. 

Before the conference, Max was quick to get on his phone.

Max: Holy shit, I have so much to tell you about Lando and Y/n

Max: You should come to my hotel room tonight

Max: I think we're in the same hotel

Charles: I have stuff to tell you too. What time?

Max: Does after dinner, 9:00 work? 

Charles: That's perfect

Max: Great, my room is 1633

Charles: See you then ;)

And for some reason Max felt like a giddy schoolgirl at the thought of Charles coming to his hotel room.

You and Lando kept stealing glances at each other whenever the other wasn't looking, and it was so frustrating.

Later, when it was just around 9:00, Max waited (im)patiently for Charles to knock on his door, and he jumped when he finally heard the noise, getting up to let him in. Charles walked in nervously. 

"We can sit on the couch," Max commented, and Charles quickly situated himself on one end, and Max on the other. 

"Ok, you go first," Max urged. 

"Well Y/n came up to me during the driver's parade and she was talking about 'hypothetically' liking something but not doing anything about it because it could ruin their friendship. So of course I told her she should just go for it, and then she looked at Lando."

"Oh my God. Lando came up to me during the driver's parade and asked what I would think if two drivers started dating each other, and I said something about how close him and Y/n were, and he blushed. And then in the cool down room, they bumped into each other which made Y/n drop her water bottle, and when they both reached down to pick it up they touched hands. Then they just stared at each other for like 5 fucking seconds."

"Jesus, what is going on with them."

"I know right, like holy fuck just make out already! I'm sick of their pining."

Max shifted on the couch, causing his foot to touch Charles' leg. 

"Anyway, want to watch a movie?" Max asked, and Charles nodded eagerly. 

And that's how they ended up in the pitch dark, a bowl of microwaved popcorn in between them, some racing movie on the television. 

They both reached for the popcorn at the same time, causing their hands to touch, and both of them snapped their heads to look at each other. 

They stared at each other, eyes flickering down to each other's lips...until the sound of Max's phone ringing caused them both to jump apart. 

"Jesus!" Max exclaimed, quickly silencing his phone, and they reluctantly turned back to the movie, moment ruined. 

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple weeks passed until they were in Qatar. Max and Charles hadn't spoken to each other, and there was minimal communication between you and Lando. 

Max would be starting the race on pole, then Lando, you, and Charles. 

As the race went on, it seemed like that would be the finishing order, until halfway through Max started having braking issues. Lando caught up, overtaking Max for the lead, and you did the same a few laps later. 

The rest of the race, Max had adapted to the issue but still had slow pace because of it, which left him defending against Charles. 

The race ended in that order, Lando taking his first win.

"YEAHHH!!! LET'S FUCKING GO BABY! WOOHOOOOOO!!!" Lando cheered. 

They parked up in front of the podium boards. Lando opened his visor, got out of his car and stood on it, holding up his pointer finger and pumped his fist in celebration, fireworks going off in the background in the dark sky. 

You quickly got out of your car and removed your helmet, going straight to Lando. 

"You did it! You fucking did it! I'm so proud of you!" you told him as you pulled him in for a hug. 

He stared at you for a second when you let go, then immediately removed his helmet, putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer and connecting your lips together. 

You were stunned for a second, before placing your hand on his cheek and deepening the kiss. Everything around you guys went still, like only the two of you existed. You eventually pulled away and could hear the booming of fireworks, the cheers from the crowd, and the whistles from the McLaren team a few feet away. You both blushed as you came to your senses. 

"I really fucking like you," Lando breathed out, slightly winded from the kiss. 

"I would hope so, after that," you teased, before pulling him in for another kiss. 

Max stood by his team, watching the pair from a far, his jaw dropped. 

"Fucking finally," Max sighed. 

But then he glanced behind him and spotted Charles walking to the FIA garage to get weighed, and an irresistible urge overcame him.

He followed Charles into the garage and grabbed his arm, dragging him behind one of the curtains.

"Did you see that! They finally—"

Charles was cut off as Max crashed their lips together.

"I think I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Max admitted when they pulled away. 

"I've been wanting to do that since I pushed you off the track in karting," Charles smiled, and Max smiled back, kissing him again.

—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—

a/n: i never intended to publish this anywhere but here i am. i literally never write written romance like this so this is really cringe and i cringed while writing it but enjoy ig. if you have any suggestions though please tell me!!

[katyspersonal]

Awh....;;;; Every time I get surprised about the amount of support I am receiving; I am very flattered you guys; I am just mostly avoiding the internet for undefined time because I legit got health issues from nervous breakdown 👍 The simplest I can explain it is, ‘being nervous is different from being anxious’. So I am just chilling in the bed and only check Twitter 2-3 times per day (it is easier as it has short posts, opposed to Tumblr having much more to read and see). But I will be fine!

Either way, thank you guys (especially you who called me Rom, because it is extremely validating and I identify with the character a lot ;-; Literally the only solid difference between us is that she reacts to being hurt with crying and I react with being vicious dsfjhfhds Rom the VICIOUS spider! xD).

The “anon assholes” are also not interested in talking to me because they KNOW I will know what to say. I mean, the brain behind the operation (though calling it a “brain” is too flattering) legitimately refused giving me any chance to defend myself, as well as fabricated a lie to latch onto as an excuse for not wanting to talk to me, so that should let you know where their true motivations lay. Yeah right, everyone in the internet has a right to say something and then refuse to listen to anything but blind agreement...... but not when it is an attack on someone. THAT one is the situation where you SHOULD be open to “criticism”, to say the least. Again, the goal is not to negotiate, but to manipulate other people into fearing me or something. It is like one thing if people see I am not the most emotionally stable person and want to avoid, completely justified! The truth about neurodivergent people is that our questlines have ‘recommended level’ bar, and not everyone is this level of handling... well, drawbacks. However, harassing people to ditch me over and over and over and over until they probably decide one mutual is just not worth the stress is... bad. I agree. You can’t harass everyone, stalk, like, manipulate, twist words, switch goalposts etc and then say “but I only did all this because I was scared that Katyahina would harass ME!!!”. You can’t “I am just a little guy” your way out of this one, lil shit.

(Also anon who sent a link - I do not open links from people I don’t know, even if they look like completely normal internal site links, I hope you understand.)

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.

wc: 4076

a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry

masterlist

"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.

"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."

"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.

you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.

"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.

"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.

"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.

he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."

"no, i can-"

"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.

without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.

"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.

"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."

"why are you here?"

you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.

"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.

"you're never here- you know what i meant."

"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"

the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.

"yeah," you deadpanned.

he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."

groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."

seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.

jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.

you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.

"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.

he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.

"why don't we get along?"

"what?"

"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"

"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.

he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."

sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"

a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.

"wha-what are you talking about?"

"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.

he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.

for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.

through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.

you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.

minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.

jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.

you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.

being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.

the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.

the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.

and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.

"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"

he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.

"the dance?"

"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"

'that's it'?

he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.

"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"

you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.

"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.

"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"

"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."

he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.

"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."

you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.

he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."

"jungkook-"

"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.

that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.

"are you serious?"

"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.

did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?

the answer was probably not.

if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.

"no, i don't hate you. do you?"

he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.

then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"

wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.

when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.

with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.

that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.

seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.

greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.

moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.

despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.

gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.

you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.

throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.

but suddenly there was a shift.

jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.

"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"

nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.

before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.

"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.

"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.

"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."

fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.

groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.

just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.

"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."

his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.

"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."

"f-faster, please ..."

"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.

"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"

his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.

afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.

"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"

there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.

"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.

your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.

despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.

crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.

taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.

"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.

jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.

"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.

"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.

nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.

the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.

pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.

and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.

"that was-"

"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."

you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"

"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."

it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"

his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3

[suiana]

Yay!

(yandere! sweetheart x gn! reader)

You've seen him around. Seen how he talks, how he acts. And you're certain of one thing.

He's not what he looks to be.

Others might say you're paranoid or something, say you're just jealous of him and how everyone seems to adore him. But you really aren't. You just... You're just scared of him.

You're sure of it. It's his whole vibe and aura. It fucking creeps you out and you just can't understand why no one else can feel that. But you suppose it's because he looks like just another guy who's awfully sweet.

His eyes, lips, they all tell a different story as compared to the eerie vibe he gives off. Normally the eyes would be able to tell if he was just acting but... Even his eyes show that he's just a sweetheart.

You've rethought your opinions on him several times. Maybe you're just mistaken. Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.

But no matter how hard you've tried to see him in a positive light, your stomach churns with an indescribable fear. And your gut has never once lied to you.

Which is why you're currently trying to leave this scary situation which your best friend has put you in. She had brought you out to eat for a hangout and out of nowhere, this guy popped out and your friend invited him to join you two without caring about your opinion. You really wanted to punt her after she did that.

Anyways, she's in the toilet right now which means that you're left alone with him.

You didn't know what to say. You honestly just wanted to avoid him if you could. But he seemed to have other ideas.

"So! What have you been up to? I've been volunteering and helping around town, planting flowers and accompanying old granny-"

You tune out his words, staring at him with a slightly unnerved expression. Shit, he really does look like your average cute guy who's just a sweetheart. You can't help but feel bad about ignoring him but... even now, you're on edge. How could this be? You don't even sense any malicious intent but you're worried?

"Hey! Are you not listening?"

You snap out of your daze, blinking several times as you gulp nervously.

"Ah... apologies. I was just... tired, yeah."

"Hm..."

He hums, still smiling at you as he props his hands on the table and rests his chin on them. You figut the urge to look away from him as he stares holes into your skull. Shit, when is your friend going to return? You can't handle this anymore...

"Say, darling, do I scare you that much?"

He suddenly mumbles, catching you off guard by the petname and his words. What? He knew that he scared you?

"I knew that you were different. That you could see something others couldn't. Which is why I was interested in the first place. But it really hurts me to see you blatantly ignoring me more and more each day."

He complains, pouting at you as he continues to stare straight into your soul. You feel a shiver run down your spine as your mouth runs dry. Wait what? What is going on? Why did he say that? He knew? Darling? Did he like you?! What the hell?

"You're really special to me. I really don't want you to be scared of me."

He reaches one of his hands out and places it above your trembling ones. He smiles warmly, though you can't help but feel chilled by the action. Damn boy! Stop! You don't like this!

"W-what are you-"

"I am completely in love with you. And I apologize about my... condition that has scared you."

He admits, cheeks flushed as he continues to stare at you, eyes unblinking. You have no response to him. Who knew that the town sweetheart that scared the shit out of you had fallen for you? And condition? Oh shit, was he like, a devil or something?

You gulp nervously, lower lip trembling as you freeze in your seat. Cold sweat decorates your forehead as you pray for your friend to hurry her ass up.

"Ah... I had planned to just take you, you know? But I don't want you to be too frightened of me... It hurts. Truly."

He sighs before removing his hand away from yours, looking at the direction in which your friend was walking from. Thank god! What was she even doing for so long?! She was gone for five full minutes, damn!

"Your friend is back, let's cheer up a bit, hm?"

He chuckles lightly, stirring his coffee as he finally breaks the prolonged eye contact which made you feel naked. Whew, finally that was over. You felt molested by him even though all he did was say some creepy shit.

But... condition. Hm... You'd need to do more research about him. Maybe then you could finally understand why you felt so unnderved by this guy.

And perhaps even try to get rid of the constant stress in your mind. Which would be him, obviously.

He seemed to know so much about you yet you know almost nothing about him. This was really not an optimal position for you.

"Haha! Did you see a ghost or something? You look scared as shit!"

Your friend jokes, taking her seat beside you as she goes back to eating her cake.

Yeah, she was right. You did just see a ghost. And this ghost was sitting right at the table together with you two.

Damn it, this was really the worst.

[chaoticloving]

cock blocked

harry styles x reader

summary: harry gets cocked blocked by a couple of cuties

warnings: shower sex (f oral, m masturbation)

Harry loved mornings like this.

He loved the sound of the fan on high speed, as insisted on by Y/n, he loved the sound of the city of London in the streets below, but most importantly, he loved the feeling of his body wrapped around Y/n--and, of course, the other way around.

Harry had picked Y/n up from the airport late last night. Harry might've chugged a couple cups of coffee to stay awake and get himself on the time zone Y/n was currently in. It worked to get him through the drive to Heathrow and back, not to mention the "i've miss you so much sex" that they were both desperate; but it was fair to say that Harry was beat by midnight and needed a good lie in.

The couple was in Y/n's flat, but they weren't alone. Marmalade, or Marney, is the precious black Scottish Terrier with little legs that like to scamper around and cause havoc for Harry. Then theres Sugar, a white Persian cat thats a true cutie. She sleeps the whole day but always makes time to 'talk' to Y/n or Harry by meowing and responding to whatever the couple say.

Y/n only has one rule: no pets on the bed.

She doesn't even allow for outside clothes on her bed--which Harry got an earful of when he once tried to take a nap while wearing clothes he wore on his walk over, but now thinking about it, she might of been trying to just get him naked.

Continuing on, the pets know never to to jump on the bed or really ever go into Y/n's room, they only go in when Harry is staying over. And without a doubt, either Marney or Sugar (sometimes together) would always tickle Harry's foot that finds it's way out from under the covers. They are Y/n's little devils that Harry just loves so much.

"Mhm, babe, scoot over." Y/n mumbles, slightly breaking from Harry's grasp to spread out more.

Harry grumbles from not being able to spoon and hold her as easily as before, but come up with the great idea of star-fishing right on top of her. Y/n groans when his weight is put on top of her.

"Don't know why you're complain'." Harry mumbles. "You got more room now."

"So thoughtful." She said, sarcasm coming though her groggy voice. She patted his bare back, hand coming up though his hair to continue on with her sleep.

Harry had the same plan. That was, until he heard scratches coming from the closer door.

Harry silently groaned as he removed his face from Y/n's neck and looked at the door in which pro red the couple from the little monsters.

"Your kids are up."

"Practically your kids too." She mumbles, pushing Harry off of her body to get up.

"No! Don't get up!" Harry whined. "Need at least another hour of beauty sleep."

"Think you need a bit more than an hour." She joked.

"You're so mean. Why am I still with you?" Harry smiles, flipping over to look at her as she comes back to the bed.

"Because I am amazing." She answers simply, sitting on his lap and leaning her head just above his. "And I'm really hot."

Harry smiles boyishly, a cheeky smile creeping over his face along with a slight blush. "Don't forget sexy." His hands come up to rest on her waist, fingers dancing along the bare skin. "And beautiful."

He kissed her, sitting up so he could add his tongue and to do a bit more than laying there and looking pretty.

Y/n rolled her hips, causing Harry to let out a moan. "Fuck, only you could do this to me, love."

Y/n wickedly smiled against his cheek, continuing her assault on his neck with her lips.

The first time Y/n heard whimpering, she thought it was Harry just being extra needy this morning, but when it was accompanied by scratching at the door, Y/n knew it was her other baby's that needed some--much less intimate--love.

She kissed Harry on the lips, sitting up with his lips and groin chasing her. She went to the door and was met with her pets at the door.

"I did not just get cocked blocked by a fuckin' dog and cat." Harry said in disbelief. Y/n giggles but leaves Harry's line of sight to presumably feed the cock blockers.

Harry sighs and gets up, he's uncomfortable in his boxers as his halfy is causing it to be a little tight around the groin--it never fails to boost his confidence, though.

He walks to the connecting bathroom, turning on the shower and brushing his teeth so he could get rid of the morning breath. He soon strips and enters the shower, letting the warm water sooth his skin.

He hears the bedroom door shut and the footsteps of his love. Y/n takes off her (Harry's really) shirt and jumps into the shower with Harry.

"The baby's just wanted their breakfast." She mumbled apologetically, kissing his lips. "Want me to make it up to you?"

"Maybe later." Harry mutters, trailing kisses down her neck then breast without any signs of stopping. "Right now I want my own breakfast."

“Mhm. Not so sure on that line.” Y/n mumbled, hand slowly going into Harry’s hair as he crouched down.

“Want me to try again?”

“Nope.” She pushed Harry’s head right into her cunt, Harry more than welcomed the action though.

Harry kissed the sides of her thighs next to her pussy, before sucking gently on her clit. Y/n’s hold on his hair grew tighter, both of them moaning in unison.

Harry’s hand started to move from her hips; his left arm went to her ass, grabbing it and pushing her forward to get her pussy closer to his mouth. His right hand trialed down to his hard cock, practically throbbing from the small bit of sensation from the water droplets. He gripped it tight, just like Y/n would do if she was hand job, and then slowly stroked down and up, just to edge himself.

Y/n was starting to ride Harry’s face, pushing her hips slightly forward and back to make use of Harry’s tung, while she started ti breath heavy and moan. Harry, ever the pleaser, paralleled her movement with his tung to help her hit that pleasure she was seeking. Harry, not to mention, also matched that movement with his right hand on his dick.

“I love you H.” She moaned, eyes pressed together as she was about to reach her climax.

Harry just nodded, getting close too, before cumming on the shower floor as Y/n came on his face.

Harry trialed kissed down her thigh, then slowly stood up. Y/n kissed him as he was to his normal height, letting her hands go over his toned stomach.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to help you.” She mumbled, referring to Harry’s masturbation.

“You helped me more then ever lovie.” He promised. “Now lemme do your hair and wash you down, just stand and look pretty for me, yeah?”

[dante-mightdie]

Jumping aboard the 141 dog train bc woof. No need to make anything of this if you don't feel like it, just sharing my thoughts :)

Imagine reader being a show dog. I myself am picturing a Beauceron or a Red Belgian Tervuren, purely because they're just so gorgeous and striking, but feel free to imagine whatever breed you please. — Laswell finds you traipsing along the side of the road late at night, trembling from the cold and trotting in an oddly rigid manner—your head held high away from the ground and tail pointed skyward. That's weird. A high tail means confidence, but what could you possibly be confident about? And shouldn't a dog keep their head low, sniffing out their path?

She pulls over and you bound up to the car, which is another red flag for her. A lone dog out in the backroads should be a lot more cautious about random vehicles stopping right beside you, but you're only disinterested when the door opens and you see that it's only her inside.

It's then that she sees the thick, jewel-encrusted white leather collar buckled around your throat. There isn't a name or a number on it anywhere. It's purely for decoration. It's then that she also notices just how shiny your coat is, proudly wearing your healthy layer of silky fur like it was an expensive accessory.

Without the shadow of a doubt, you are a pampered little thing who is far, far away from home.

It comes as a shock to her that you're actually a hybrid, and not just some stray mutt. She only manages to get you in the car with gentle persuasion and the promise of a warm interior and some water.

Once inside, she shoots a message to Price and starts asking you questions.

"Am I correct in assuming that you're a... show dog?"

The haughtiness in your voice as you respond has Kate silently reminding herself that she was no better than whoever deserted you on the side of the road if she kicked you out.

"Tsk. Show dog. Ugh, please. I'm a consecutive eight-time international blue-ribbon champion of the World of Canines pageant. I'm a legend."

That reply is more than enough to convince Kate that silence would be much better suited for the duration of the ride. You don't agree.

"Where are we going?" You asked snappily once you realized you hadn't told her where you were going, "Why haven't you contacted my owners?"

"Sweetie—" Kate began patiently with a wry laugh, starting off with an endearment the way her wife would when she wanted to deescalate a situation "—you have zero contact information on you. I don't know who your owners are."

The incredulous look you gave her would've been funny if you hadn't been dead serious.

"What?" You all but yipped, "How on earth do you not know my owners? Actually— how on earth do you not know me?"

The thought of dumping you back into the snow for the wolves to ravage was a tempting one, but the image of Price and his boys putting you in your place was an even more satisfying one. At least, she hoped they would be able to manage you. There was also the chance that you would be so insufferable that you drove the boys to insanity, but she had seen her mutts stomach worse. She likes to think you'd make a nice little gift for them. They always loved a challenge.

She didn't bother answering you.

When you arrived at the top of a twisting path up a hillside—complaining every bit of the way about how the gravelly roads were giving you a headache and that you'd be getting eyebags soon if you didn't get your beauty rest—your nose crinkled in disgust. There were too many clashing scents that assaulted your powdered nose, having been far too accustomed to the poignant fragrances of the perfumes and potpourris you were bestowed in your vanity back at home.

"A cabin?" You sneered distastefully, huffing, "This is where you stay?"

"Nope." Laswell exited the driver's side and yanked the passenger door open, not bothering to hid her amusement when you almost fell out of the vehicle with a startled yelp. "It's where you'll be staying."

It was hard to miss the harrowed expression of dread that befell your features as those words met your perky ears.

"So until I can manage to get ahold of your owners, I suggest you behave, alright?"

She stepped back and pulled you out of the SUV—a birdlike screech of abhorrence exiting your lungs as she did.

"But in the meantime, boys, I've got you something to sharpen your teeth on."

You turned your head to locate who she was talking to, and felt your heart drop to your stomach when your gaze landed on a barrel-chested man standing proudly with a Rottweiler, Doberman, and a Rough Collie at his sides.

Your hackles stood on their ends. — I've got more to follow that's in a more sequential bullet-point style, but I'll cut it here for now bc I don't want it to get too long!

So, this post is just going to be me posting this ask. It arrived in 3 parts so i'll paste the second two parts under the 'keep reading'

@sugar-n-sweets said they'll post an edited version on their blog so please check it out :)

"This what you texted me about, Laswell?" The man asked, gesturing a finger towards you.

"Yeah, found her taking a late-night solo walk just a bit ago." Laswell readied herself to hop back into the car. "Figured you're more suited to house strays than myself."

The panic running rampant in your veins increased tenfold as you watched her slide in behind the wheel.

"No, you— you can't do this! You can't leave me here with— with them!"

Kate rubbed her temples and turned to you.

"Kid, you've got nowhere else to go. This is the only occupied property for miles, and I certainly can't take you back home to my wife. She's allergic to dogs."

A bold-faced lie. But you didn't need to know that.

You paled, looking back at the man and his dogs with wide eyes and a gaping jaw.

"This can't be happening," you muttered aloud to no one in particular but yourself.

"Sure it can," the man sang out to you as he trotted down the stoop of the porch. You didn't miss the glint in his eyes at your cowering as he approached.

"Now come on inside, love. We wouldn't want you to get sick out here."

You entered the cabin, but only to avoid that man's hand grabbing your collar when he reached out for you. You shuddered at how close he had been to grazing your precious coat. In a place like this with a mangy scent like that... only God knew where those hands had been.

You watched the man stalk off to a room down the hall, a manila folder tucked underneath his arm.

You just about shrieked when a cold, wet nose was pressed into your hip. You jumped back with your teeth bared.

"Look at tha' gait. Never seen anythin' more unnatural." The brogue was thick with the signature of Scots, rumbling from the chest of the Rough Collie as he spoke. "Y'got a name?"

Your shoulders tensed in apprehension when the question arose.

"Got a n— yes, I have a name!" You snapped irritably, "Just look at me!"

"Oh, I'm looking, alright." The Rottweiler chuffed from a distance, "Not much of a sight, if you ask me."

You could've given everyone else whiplash with how quickly you swiveled your neck to face the bemused dog.

"Excuse me?" You growled, hackles stiff and raised to their limit. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

The Scot rolled his eyes.

"If we did, ah wouldnae be askin' fer yer name." His eyes seemed to rake over your form, as if sizing you up. "What makes you so special, huh? What makes you so different from all the other mutts?"

Your eye twitched.

"Mutt?" Your voice began low, calculated and simmering in the rage that was about to boil over the edge and scald anyone standing too close. "Mutt?! I am no mutt! I am a purebred specimen of a luxury breed—"

"So you're stuck up," the Doberman snorted, sneering at you down the length of his snout. "Purebreds are only good for looking pretty. An aesthetic commodity."

The fury you felt with trying to get a word in with these dogs had your fur bristling with a type of rage that you had never before been acquainted with. "I am not stuck up! I am a consecutive eight-time international blue-ribbon ch—"

"Oh, so we've got a spoiled little whelp here, eh? Hope you don't expect us to pamper ye."

The frustrated squawk you let out hardly resembled anything that of a dog's cry. — Adjusting was not an easy feature to achieve.

As a show dog, you had no proper "domestic" life. You were a means of income—prize money. The only interaction you had with other hybrids, let alone animals, was with your competitions. So it was safe to say that things hadn't been going in your favor.

You struggled to keep up with them on their daily hikes around their property, as well as the only one who wore a leash. Even if there was no way you stood a chance at outrunning them, they found it amusing to tether you to a lead of rope and tug when you were falling behind—which was always. In order to keep a slim, show-ready figure, your owners never allotted you any more than ten minutes of a casual walk per day. If you even tried to speed it up to a slight trot, your time was cut in half. You did not have the muscle you needed to survive out here and it showed.

You were more humiliated than anything when Price had shoved you off the couch and sprayed you with a bottle, which especially irritated you because you weren't a cat! You were a dog! But fighting back was the last thing on your mind when you were struggling to find comfort on the hardwood floors while all three dogs were curled up with their Captain on his bed.

But over the past two weeks, you had more things to worry about than sore legs and a bruised ego. Since day one, these dogs had been cruel. They found joy in putting you through absolute misery time and time again, like a joke that never gets old.

Gaz made it his personal mission to inconvenience you at any available opportunity. He ate from your bowl, stepped on your tail, kicked you awake when you thought you were safe enough to take a nap—little things to just irk you in the worst way possible.

Ghost pissed you off by acting like you didn't exist half the time. He figured that since you were so accustomed to being recognized for your quote-unquote "achievements", being ignored was the equivalent of a swift kick to the gut. He was wrong. It was more like a sledgehammer to the kidneys in your case.

Soap was much more forward with his advances. He just wanted to piss you off and that was that. He would tackle you to the ground when you were outside, almost like a puppy trying to initiate playtime. He'd send you rolling into dirt, rocks, and snow—showing no interest in assisting you when you had to spend the next few hours picking dead bugs and bits of twigs from your hair. You couldn't be looking like some indecent pup when your owners came looking for you. You were raised better than that. You had a reputation and an image to uphold, and you were never one to disappoint.

And Price didn't do anything except watch with amusement as you were tormented left and right. Some handler he is.

It wasn't until the fourth week that things did began to take a turn.

There was still no word from Laswell about your owners. You'd almost thought that she'd forgotten about you, what with the radio silence regarding your situation and all.

It was a daily routine for you to wait at the front door—nose just inches away from the cold, dark wood in anticipation. It was as if you expected it to fly off the hinges and reveal your owners who you practically worshipped, arms open wide and ready to bring you back home.

You knew you'd be lucky to even get a reassuring head-pat if they found you, but the idea of their excitement at finally finding you was the one thing that kept putting you in front of that door every single morning.

Everyone noticed your behavior, but Ghost was the first to let it fully clock that even if you were in insufferable little hellion—you acted the way you did because that's what you were raised to recognize as the norm. You didn't act like this because you wanted to, you acted like this because it was expected of you, and any disconnection from these mannerisms likely resulted in punishment when you were younger.

He didn't really know what to do with that information, so he didn't do anything. — Laswell's visit the next weekend was unwarranted, but most certainly not unwelcomed.

"You still got that show dog with you, or did you leave the back door unlocked during bear season?" She asked, her stalwart tonality clashing with the joke she made.

"Rest assured, the lil' priss is alive and well, Kate," Price coolly responded as he swung his ax down onto an upright log—splitting it in half.

"Good."

"Any reason for the sudden concern, or are you just feelin' sweet today?" Price set up another log and lined up his ax.

"I found her owners."

The hatchet met the cutting stump with a deep 'thunk', the edge of the blade burying itself much further than it was intended to go.

"Really?"

Kate nodded.

"Hm. Well..." Price paused, giving the handle of the tool a harsh tug and dislodging it from the wood. "...That's good."

"I wouldn't speak so soon."

"Why's that?"

Kate extended her phone to him, where a gallery of photos was displayed on the screen. There were two people—a man and a woman—smiling brightly with a pampered pooch sitting in front of them, donning a blue ribbon, and a leather collar identical to yours.

Except, it wasn't you.

"This was from the pageant last week. The one she was supposed to compete in."

"So why isn't she?" Price inquired, scrolling through the photos and finding similar images from different angles.

"She didn't win first place in her last show." Kate took her phone back from Price. "They never told her that she lost. They just took a 'detour' on their way to the next pageant, and picked up their next dog after dropping her off on the shoulder a month ago."

"So they just..."

"Left her, yeah." Kate nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. "So, her position here may be a little more permanent than we thought."

You were raised by your owners to be the embodiment of elegance. That meant no barking, no scratching, no bouts of energy—none of it. You were so used to this way of life, ignoring your instincts, that you never had the desire to do any of those things.

But when you found out about what your owners had done—

Oh, how you wanted to raise hell.

You weren't even meant to know yet. You were simply inside as you practically always were, sitting on the rug of the living room because Price still wouldn't let you sit on the couches. You had the remote in hand, volume turned down low and closed captioning on as not to alert Soap, who was just a couple rooms down the hall.

You technically weren't supposed to be messing with the television, but today was the date of the pageant you were supposed to be competing in—the one you were supposed to win—and like hell were you going to miss it. You had memorized the listing and channel of every broadcasting service that would be airing it ages ago.

So there you were, kneeling inches away from the TV with an anxious grasp on the remote and your tail nervously stiffened behind you.

You were checking out the competition, rolling your eyes at snooty faces you recognized, mumbling about how you would've presented that strut so much better had you been there. One could only imagine your confusion when you saw a new dog. A spry, sleek-coated Irish setter with a shockingly familiar handler guiding her along.

Your jaw dropped.

That was your handler.

"No!"

You didn't care about keeping the noise down anymore. You rose to your feet in a flash. That was Sergei. Handling another dog. But that didn't make any sense. Sergei only worked for your owners, and only presented you at pageants. Had your owners fired him? Surely not—you loved him! So then why was he handling this new dog?

And why was there a new dog at all? The participation slots were full. You should know, because you took the last one, and pageants didn't take understudies in the event that a dog didn't show up. If a dog wasn't there, then they weren't there. It just counted as a forfeit.

Still in shock, you raised your hand to clutch your proverbial pearls—but when your fingers met your neck, you became acutely aware of the similarities between what you felt, and what you were seeing on the screen.

Ruffles. Jewels. Lace. Leather.

She was wearing your fucking collar.

You didn't need to see Sergei walk the Setter up to your owners after the circuit to connect the dots—nor did you need to see them slip the blue ribbon over her head, hear your owners fabricate a tale about how you were so ashamed after winning silver that you couldn't bear to compete again, and selected Dolores to take your place, or even recall how they oh-so graciously let you out of the RV to let you "stretch your legs" only hours before Laswell found you on the road. It was clear as day.

There were so many urges bubbling within you. It was confusing and pissing you off. You wanted to yell. You wanted to break things. You wanted to unleash yourself.

And because your owners weren't here to drop a phonebook on your tail as a punishment—you did.

"You fucking bitch!"

The clasp of your collar flew off and landed somewhere in the room as you ripped it from your throat. Doing so fucking hurt, but you weren't going to bother being gentle with the accessory that keyed you as property of your traitorous owners.

Soap tumbled into the room, footfalls heavy and uncoordinated from having just been crudely awoken from a midday nap. He only caught a glimpse of you storming out the back door.

He rushed to follow, ready to pounce and bury his teeth into your neck and subdue you like he had in the past, because you weren't allowed to go outside without permission, nor without the Captain.

But he froze in his tracks when he saw you in the snow, having taken on your full canine physique and tearing into your collar—or what was left of it—with reckless abandon. Pearls and gems flew every which way as you bit down on the leather hard enough to make you gag, shaking it like it was small prey with the most vicious snarl he'd ever heard come out of you.

"Lass, what's—"

The collar went flying into the air, and landed a ways into the distance, among the trees that surrounded the clearing of the cabin. You were panting as if you had just run a marathon, body trembling as you stool still. Whether it was from the cold, adrenaline, or fury—he couldn't tell.

"They lied to me!" He heard you scream.

"Who lied t'ye, lassie?"

"They never entered me into the competition— they nev—" you cut yourself off with an enraged shriek. "They already had a replacement!"

Soap couldn't tell if you were talking to him or yourself.

You were out there for a while, howling with rage while Soap apprehensively stood a few paces behind you. Your animalistic war-cries were enough for Gaz to come bounding up the hill from the cabin's lay of snowy plains below, fully alert and looking around frantically to locate the source of distress—only to discover that you were the cause of your distress. Well, somewhat.

He wanted to feel satisfied and amused when Soap filled him in on what had happened, but he just couldn't. You, a sheltered cash cow from birth, had been thrown away and replaced for some trivial mistake that you had made in you last pageant—the only thing you were good at and good for just not being enough, when you lived to appease them.

He couldn't help but feel sorry for you.

You weren't having it, though.

"No! No, you shut up!" You clambered onto your feet, pointing a finger into his chest. He was about to snap back at you, but you spoke to quick for him to overlap.

"I don't need your damn pity. I need to be a dog."

He blinked, expression faltering.

"What?"

"My entire life—" you inhaled deeply through your mouth as you roughly wiped away streaks of tears "—I have been nothing but a pretty bitch that pays the bills, and if they won't even let me have that—then it ends now."

They both stand silently, waiting for you to continue.

"Teach me how to be a dog."

—

The 141 were made up of honest men—a rare commodity in this day and age. No matter how you felt about something, you always knew the truth, and none of them hid anything about themselves unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately for you, that mostly just entailed them openly voicing how annoying they thought you were, or how you wouldn't last a day in the wild—but they stood by their word in the following weeks, re-training you to embrace your canine urges.

It started with a bath, oddly enough. You figured the first thing they'd have you do was dive headfirst into a pile of mud, but instead you sat calmly in the tub as Price rinsed out the shampoo with the handheld showerhead.

"Have to say, you take to bathin' much better than any of my boys."

You huffed with an indifferent grumble. As a human, Price couldn't understand you in your canine form, but he'd been around hybrids long enough to get a general idea of what they try to get across. Grooming days were part of your routine. Of course you loved baths.

Sure, this tub wasn't as luxurious as the small pools your personal groomer used to lather you up in, nor did it have the elaborate tools to ensure that your coat absorbed all the nurturing properties of your expensive shampoos—but those fancy trinkets could be bought by anyone lucrative enough. Not everybody could say they had John Price's large, calloused hands scrubbing dog shampoo into their fur.

"I'm sure this isn't the salon-quality product you're used to," he mentioned as the soap foamed and bubbled up under his touch, "but it does the job. 'Fraid you won't be seein' much of name brands anymore, though."

You were apprehensive when he approached you with shears after towel-drying you off, never having anyone but Sergei trim the ends of your coat before. Your past owners liked to keep your fur long and shiny, but even you knew that such a high-maintenance coat wouldn't survive out here, so to the scissors it went.

"Don't you worry, dove," he coaxed. "Just a little off the top, yeah?"

It was odd, seeing yourself in the mirror after the chop. Price clearly knew what he was doing. You should've known from the start that he was practiced with shears, if Soap's well-tapered coat was anything to go by. He had kept some of the original length around your legs and tail, but did away with the longer areas at your neck, chest, cheeks, and underbelly.

You stared at your reflection, head tilting this way and that as you inspected your new appearance. You were still plenty fluffy with rich fur—but you didn't have those mane-like tresses that required extensive combing and conditioning to keep healthy. Less of you was hidden by your fur, and you came to notice just how lacking in muscle you really were. You'd work on that with the 141 another time, you were sure.

You didn't look like a pampered show dog anymore. You were just… a dog.

It didn't bother you as much as you thought it would.

"How'd I do?" Price smiled down at you, letting a big hand ruffle your head—ears flopping from side to side with the action. You chuffed shortly through your throat, an unsure vocalization before barking at the mirror with your tail wagging.

He laughed in that deep, rumbling fashion, "Make sure to leave five stars."

—

Next was going to be getting you to give chase and sink your teeth into something with a beating heart, but when Soap watched you stiffly trot up to the back door with your neck and ears vertical, and your snout parallel to the ground—he realized that there was much more work to be done here before he sent you off into the neck of the woods. He could leave hunting up for someone else to take care of later.

"Bonnie… what in God's name are ye dooin'?"

"I—" You cut yourself off to turn and glare at him. "I'm walking, jackass. What else?"

Soap wouldn't be caught dead admitting it aloud, but he loved the new attitude you gave him. It was still pretty much the same you would give him before, but it came off in different waves. Your voice wasn't as high-pitched, your vocabulary was less prestigious and haughty, and your responses weren't so long-winded (they always included you rambling about how your "elite" mannerisms were the result of a proper, exquisite lifestyle that Soap was too roguish and brash to ever qualify for). Your mouthy habits now consisted of sass and snark he was used to from the military, and was quite fond of with his pack.

"Ye call tha' walkin'?" He practically gawked at you, half-joking. "Nah, lass. Change of plans. Gonna teach ye how t' strut proper."

So that's how you found yourself trudging through icy mud, body trembling as you braved the chilly winds that flew over the marsh Soap had dragged you down to. You yapped in disgust as a fish swam over your paw.

"Och, haud yer weesht, hen." Soap crowed from a grassy patch of the wetlands. "Keep yer head on snug. 'S no more than a wee minnow. Willnae bite ye, ah swear."

You turned to sneer at him, ears laid flat against your head as you squinted. It turned into an eyeroll when he split his mouth into a cheeky grin.

You were trying your best not to complain. You really were. You wanted to be a dog, and if this is what it took, then so be it. Even if it meant your fur was wet up to your knees and elbows.

"Price isn't gonna be happy, you know," you barked over the howling wind.

Soap leapt from one patch to the neighboring one. "On the contrary, I think he'll be right chuffed t' see ye gettin' yer paws dirty."

"After he just washed me?"

"Especially after he just washed ya. Shows 'im that ye aren't afraid of keepin' an image anymore."

Your tongue darted out to wet your nose as you contemplated his words. The breeze was drying.

"Okay, but… why are we out here specifically?"

Soap smiled and wordlessly leapt into the marsh with you—no care for his white coat at all—making you rear your head back as the murky water splashed too close to your face for comfort.

"Glad y' asked," he boomed, the volume unnecessary with how much closer he was to you now. "Y' ever seen a dog walk normally with slippers on?"

The question caught you off guard.

"I—" you blinked at him "…no?"

"Exactly. The water has the same effect. Weighs ye down, forces you to do what's comfortable." He demonstrated what he meant as he spoke by marching through the water, bringing each paw above the surface to avoid the resistance of the liquid when he stretched it forward to take a step. He stopped to face you.

"Go on, then," he urged, "give it a try."

The sensation was awkward and disorienting when you tried to walk. Your body was moving faster than the water would allow, and your feet couldn't match the pace you demanded of them—resulting in you tripping over nothing but sheer inertia, and falling into the foggy marsh.

Soap laughed above you as you stood up—water dripping from every part of you but your head and back.

"See what I mean? You cannae be marchin' tha' fancy canter o' yours when yer up to yer knees. 'S no' a parade, lassie. Here—just follow my lead. You'll be canterin' in no time."

—

It took near to a week's worth of treading the marsh for Soap to see genuine improvement in your gait, and a couple days more of sprinting across acres of land for him to be satisfied enough with his work. Price, as you expected, wasn't super jovial to see your freshly-washed coat dripping with mud the first time around, but it wasn't anything that a a hose-down outside the cabin couldn't take care of.

You learned how to avoid getting caught on your own feet as you got better at running, and as a result, had significantly less incidents that left you wet and huffy—but today, Soap decided he was in the mood to play, and tackled you into the wetlands like the overgrown teenager he was. It ended with both of you sopping wet and out of breath.

Ghost had hauled you off of him with his maw latched onto your scruff as you rolled around in the mud with Soap's ear between your teeth. He was huffily growling that Gaz needed you back at the cabin, and snapping his jaws at Soap when the Rough Collie felt ballsy enough to playfully nip at his haunches like the sheepdog he was—speeding off before Ghost could get the bright idea of pursuing him.

You found Gaz perched on top of the cellar doors on the side of the cabin—a dark, warm spot that got direct sunlight for every waking hour of the day. You could always count on him being there.

His eyes snapped open when he heard your noisy footsteps crunching through the snow.

"There you are," he huffed impatiently. "It's about time."

You returned his attitude with equal lackluster vigor, "You could've let me know you were looking for me."

"Sent Ghost to fetch you."

"Too proud to do it yourself?"

The Doberman slid off the wooden basement doors, paws landing on the snow with an imperceptible crunch. "If I switch focus, I'll loose the trail," he bluntly stated before starting into the mouth of the forest.

These men and their need to answer in riddles. "What?" You asked in exasperated confusion.

"You hungry?"

You sighed. And so the puzzle continues.

"What are you yapping about?"

He once again ignored your question and continued talking, "Hungry or not, I'm locked on to a scent right now and you need to practice hunting."

Oh. So that's what this was about.

"I thought Ghost would be the one to teach me to hunt."

"You want him out here instead?"

"No."

Gaz scoffed out a laugh at your snark, "Don't complain, then."

"I'm not," you defended, "I just… figured he was more suited for this."

"Yeah?" Gaz hopped onto a fallen tree that blocked his path and jumped down just as quickly. "And somehow I'm not?"

You opted to crawl under the log. "No, that not what I—"

"Ah, hush. Just taking the piss." His trotting gait slowed to a strut as you caught up to his side. "I get what you mean. Simon's a big dog, and an even bigger lad. Can't really picture him doing much else, can you?"

You gave it a moment of thought before agreeing, "Yeah… no, I really can't."

"I don't blame you, but don't doubt me, either. I was a guard dog back in my service days. Hunting comes naturally."

You applied what Soap taught you as Gaz's speed picked up again, trying to match his pace. "Well, it doesn't for me," you reminded caustically, "so what am I gonna do here?"

Gaz's docked tail twitched as he nosed you in a new direction. The top of his snout came into contact with the right side of your skull and he jutted his head forward, nudging your orientation westwards. You grumbled in discontent as the gesture caught you off guard, and threatened to knock you over. You stumbled to the side—in a lowered stance as your legs splayed out more to catch yourself—and sneered up at Gaz before trying to nip at his side. He easily shifted out of your reach, which made you more irritated than you already were.

"Stop that," he gruffed. "Just come here."

You wanted to ignore him and pettily plop yourself onto the snow you stood over, but you noticed that Gaz had stopped right in front of a large bush decorated with berries a few yards ahead.

"What's this?" You asked, regaining your balance.

"Huckleberry, originally, but there's mistletoe in there. Parasitic plant… don't eat it," he warned, as if you were actually planning on doing that. He urged you forward with another nudge. "Take a sniff. Really try to pay attention to what sets it apart from other smells."

Dubiously, you did as instructed; extending your neck to brush your nose with the flora. It took a moment for your nose to recognize and separate the fragrances, but as soon as you could clearly pinpoint the sweetness of the huckleberry and the bitter poison of the mistletoe—and hone in on the scent to lead you to other plants with the same arrangements—Gaz introduced you to various other scents and repeated the process.

By the the time that the next twenty minutes had passed, you were also able to identify buttercups, pine needles, shedded fur, a quail corpse, and Ghost's territorial markers. You were satisfied enough to call it a day, but Gaz apparently had other plans.

"Stop," he suddenly commanded, his voice hushed and tentative. The suddenness of it was enough to make you obey. He crouched down low until he laid on the bank, and you followed suit. "Look."

Curious, you lifted your head to see what had demanded such stealth from him, and felt your ears perk up upon seeing a white hare just a little ways off.

"Hungry yet?"

Instinctively, your tongue laved over your chops at the prospect of a meal. Soap's energetic roughhousing was a taxing endeavor to participate in.

"Yeah."

Gaz scooted back a bit to let you take the lead. "Then it's yours. You know what to do?"

You were half-listening. "Mhm. Yeah, of course."

"Show me."

Rising from the ground slightly, you paid mind to your pose as you kept your nose low enough to the ground to pick up on its most recent scent trail—just like Gaz taught you. You missed the way he spared a quick side-eye glance to you before doing a double-take.

"You keep that stance, and a lot of critters around here are gonna get the wrong idea," he remarked warningly—but his quieted voice had a faint distinction of amusement to it.

You didn't understand what he meant until you felt a pair of hands reaching to grab your hips and lower them to the proper crouching stance, bringing your ass down so you weren't presenting your doggish cunt to the world.

"The mud does good to hide your scent, but that'll only do so much if you give yourself away like that."

You could hear the double-entendre in the way he spoke, clearly not trying to be subtle, but you opted to ignore it plus—the heat crawling up your neck—regardless. He left a firm pat to your haunches before moving back and giving you the green light to strike.

"Impress me."

—

You had improved plenty over the past few weeks with the guidance of both Soap and Gaz—regularly having races and hunting sessions until your needs were sated. Price was a little more approving of you returning caked in mud, but only when you had dried blood crusting around your mouth on that first successful hunting session with Gaz. He especially loved it when you brought something back for him, whether it be a poor squirrel or the body of a rabbit. No matter what it was, he was there to praise your success and drag his nails through your fur appreciatively. He congratulated Gaz frequently for doing so well with teaching you.

The brunt of winter was quickly approaching, and with it came flurries and changes. Changes that occupied every edge and valley of your mind, turning your morals on their heads and skewing every coherent thought you managed to procure.

You had yet to know if Ghost planned to teach you something, but if you were being honest, you couldn't care less about what you were supposed to learn now. Not when you were hiding in a corner of the old, worn down sheep stable not too far from the marsh where Soap taught you how to run, staring at the phallic-shaped icicle hanging from the windowsill and contemplating whether or not frostbite was worth a sense of relief.

You see, here—you don't sterilize hybrids. It's unethical and outlawed in most countries. So, naturally, you weren't spayed, and naturally—

You went into heat.

Now, you knew it was inevitable. Your heat was completely unavoidable, just a thing of nature—but that didn't mean you dreaded it any less.

So that's why you buried yourself in clumps of aging straw in the hayloft, internal temperature far too high to be bothered by the biting winds that nipped at your exposure.

In the past, your heats were managed with toys, medications, hormone-balancing supplements, and being locked in your room for days on end.

This was your first heat away from your owners. This was your first heat without anything to ease or shorten the experience, and being so scared about what you could potentially do during the blindness of your desperation—you ran for the hills at the first sign of an episode.

You were still well within tracking distance, not wanting to get lost and become unrecoverable, but you hoped it was far away enough for the men to get the hint that you needed to be alone.

Now, was there any actual plan? Absolutely not. You had no provisions, no protection against the elements, and you were fully aware that a heat without any external aids could last over a week. In the moment you fled, the only thing on your mind was being a safe distance away from any opportunity to make a mistake.

And as you were now, hands trembling far too much to get a proper focus on your clit and whining embarrassingly loud—your body was cursing you for doing such a thing, but your dignity was gratefully intact.

"Bonnie!"

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

You couldn't bite back your whimpering keens, but rolled over onto your stomach to bury your noises into the scratchy hay.

"Bonnie," Soap called once more, "you in here?"

You couldn't reply through your breathless pants.

"Price is askin' fer ye, lassie," his voice echoed around the open space of the barn. "Didn't like ye pullin' tha' stunt n' takin' off, y'ken."

When there was still no reply, Soap took the liberty of trailing your scent with his nose—clambering his way up the ladder when your fragrance grew stronger. The heady weight of your overpowering scent punched him in the face once he reached the hayloft.

"Where'd y— fuckin' Criosd, thoir dhomh neart."

His hips bucked forward at the smell of you, popping a stiffie in mere seconds and greedily grinding the tent in his trousers against the rung of the ladder that was level with his groin.

"Oh, bonnie— 's this why y' scampered off?"

He found himself crawling over to your prone form, beginning to shake with the restraint he was exercising. Your following whine was enough to jut his pelvis forward again—the urge so demanding that his clothed manhood sought out a tight warmth that wasn't even there, and thrust down onto the wooden planks. He paused for a moment as his body worked on its own volition, rutting against the floor a for a bit until he could reign himself in again.

"You should've just told us, baby," he cooed. "We'd be happy to help ye."

Your body registered him as not your semi-friendly acquaintance-somewhat-past rival-packmate, but as someone capable of providing you with a knot, and your back involuntarily arched at the sound of his voice approaching from behind—exposing your pink, sobbing pussy to him, and her slick tears that coated the entirety of your inner thighs and ass.

Soap couldn't even think to stop himself before he dove headfirst into your slippery cunt, his sloppy tongue immediately reaching into your channel and ladling your bittersweet grool into his mouth—swallowing you in mouthfuls and slurping you up like a thick smoothie.

Your pleading moans pierced the air, and you drove your hips back into Soap's face—to which he pressed forward even firmer and gripped the sides of your upper thighs with a painfully horny grip, using his thumbs to split you apart further and rub harshly at your red, neglected, and engorged clit.

"Hidin' out here," he began after pulling away to catch his breath, seamlessly replacing his tongue with his middle and ring finger, "ain't th' way t' handle this, bonnie."

He grinned down at you as he humped the back of your thigh, fingers pumping into you with intensity and speed as he honed in on your g-spot.

"Y' gotta embrace every instinct, hen." — Dogs were animals. By dictionary definition, they were just another subspecies occupying the Animalia kingdom. And animals, in their barest form, were just a representation of the most basic needs that presented themselves in every breathing individual.

So with learning to be a dog—you had to learn to submit to your body's every whim.

Now was as good a time as any for Ghost to pitch in on training sessions.

After Soap had ripped an orgasm from you with deft fingers, he took you from the hayloft and left a squirt-soaked pile of hay in your wake. Now back at the cabin with the Scot laying back on Price's bed after he graciously pumped his semen into you three times over, he held you full-nelson style for his best bud while Gaz relentlessly hammered his hips into yours in the same manner he had been for the past ten minutes. You came time after time again—once achieving several climaxes in the span of a minute—but even with the amount of orgasms you had been given, your body only cried out for another knot, so you were far from finished.

Your head rolled back as his girthy cock pummeled your sensitive walls, but the Doberman forced your head back up with a grip on your jaw—patting your cheek twice before he and Soap simultaneously dived down to your neck and attacked the sides of your throat.

Even as Gaz tossed his head back with a throaty groan and emptied himself inside you, he didn't stop pulsing into you with the shallow thrusts that he was able to manage with the expansion of his knot.

The entire time, he and Soap fed praises and croons into your ears, remarking how perfect you were for them, how gorgeous you looked while so cockdrunk and needing.

It was only after two more generous helpings of Gaz's sperm did his knot deflate enough for him to slip out and roll next to Soap—but you still only had enough clarity to recognize Price's large, steady hands wiping your hair from your face. Being laid down on your stomach near the foot of the bed by your prior partner, you were eye-level with his bulge, and immediately took advantage of the angle.

"Hey— woah, there!" Price grunted when you shot forward to bury your nose into his loins, tongue darting out to simply mouth at whatever was available to you. He fisted your hair and pulled you away from his pants, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss onto your forehead. "I'm flattered, but I'm just a man. I can't give you what you need right now. Maybe another time, okay? Just be a good girl for my boys right now, love."

You could only whine desperately in response—mind still too scrambled to come up with words yet. Price pulled away, and called back to another, unseen individual in the room.

"Ghost. Come n' eat."

Everything between Ghost getting on the bed and tilting your hips up to mount you from behind was a blur, but you could really only focus on how this was the first time that Ghost was touching you properly. It turned you on more than it should've.

"So you wanna be a real dog, 's that right?"

His gravelly, rumbling rasp caught you off guard, but you managed to scrawl out a whimper that resembled "yes" as his brutish cockhead grazed over the folds of your weeping pussy.

"Well, real dogs don't go hidin' away from their pack when their cunt's cryin' out for a knot."

His tone turned condescending as he wound a fist in your hair, tip nudging your slick, used entrance.

"They come crawlin' to 'em on all fours, put that tight little pussy on display, and beg to be stuffed."

He punctuated his accusation with the full sheathing of his breathtakingly dense cock into your tight snatch—the wind being punched from your lungs as you practically felt his tip emerging from your throat.

"You say you're not a mutt, but look at you now; a victim to your instincts, just like any other bitch." — The room is filled with soft moans in the early morning, a lazy Sunday never being lazier as Price sweetly pumps his thick cock into the welcoming heat of your cunt in a spooning position.

The boys have long-since departed for their routine dawn patrol, but the soft-hearted Captain provided a comforting presence as he brought you gentle pleasure—his hand smoothing over the plump swell of your gorgeously rotund stomach; brimming with the promise of a healthy, capable litter of pups in the near future.

"Y'know," you spoke, voice light and airy as John's hand traveled further south to gingerly swipe at your clitoris, "if I'd known it'd take getting knocked up to be allowed in your bed—I'd have bent over for you lot much sooner."

He languidly laughed with you, pressing his lips to the space of skin beneath your ear in tender adoration.

"Every bed in this cabin will be forever available to you. I don't care which you choose in the night—so long as you're here with us, there's nowhere else I'd rather you be."

"Can't think of anywhere better, Captain."

[etheries1015]

Adult (20+) MC finally figures out how to properly make money, BESIDES working for Azul. Become not only the prefect and be a student, but an on the call designated therapist!

"Crowley, really. I'm far older than the other students, it is not my fault the mirror has brought you a full grown adult rather than another proper student! I finished all of my schooling where I am from, I do not wish to repeat it along side these....kids!" You had complained to him. Well, what was he to do? The mirror had obviously chosen you to be at that school, you had no other merits at the time to offer him, and to simply put it...without a way to go home, what else could possibly occupy your time in a world in which you know nothing about, than gather intel by throwing yourself into the most prestigious of schools? The answer seemed obvious at the time, until you realized just how bad it was.

Teenagers are still teenagers, after all. Especially a bunch of teenage boys surrounded by...well... Other teenage boys. Magic or not, they were still going through any other mental struggles as any normal human. However, putting magic into the mix had surely caused you some...extra unprecedented grief you had never needed to worry about in your world. After what, three? Four? Overblots and life endagerment exibitions, you had an epiphany. With extensive knowledge of the human brain system, life experience, and a plothera of coping mechanisms under your belt, what better way to open the door than to become none other than the designated student body therapist?

With some rather convincing techniques, you had managed to convince Crowley to, as you put it...

"Let me take this off of your plate! You are so busy being such an amazing head master running this school as perfectly as you are, I understand the durasic increase of overblots have your hands tied behind your back! As you know, I am an adult with ample experience in the field of mental health. Although I don't have the documents to prove it as much at this time seeing as they are back in my world....I just know you will not regret hiring me as a therapist."

A few more convincing lines (and perhaps a week of pestering, begging, manipulating-- I mean convincing , he had eventually hired you as the school therapist! With, of course, the expectation that you had to take an additional class to further certify you were able to properly do such a job. (You were kind of mad a bout that, seeing as you knew you were qualified, but hey. Pick and choose your battles I guess. At least you managed to get by with a couple additional classes, instead of a million years of schooling.)

You had a personal office in ramshackle, an empty dorm becoming suitable with your own personal desk, computer, book shelf, and another necessities. You had a location in the main building, the room connected to the nurses office had been refurnished as your main office. Book shelves of self care, items for fiddling with, bean bags, posters with encouraging words, and a desk full of papers, along with other needed items graciously funded by the school (you threatened Crowley at one point, accusing him of not caring of his students.) Of course, being on call meant students may drop by the dorm at any given time for your aid and expertise, so the ramshackle dorm lounge was also redecorated suited for sessions that were a bit more casual.

But of course, you also managed to juggle your studies as a student, wanting to continue to learn about magic. Working on the call was nice, keeping your phone on and excusing yourself whenever official work called for you. Unless you rather not be a student, that is fine, too. Full time therapist work may be the job for you!

Helping students heal one tragic back story at a time seemed perfectly fitting. (You just wanted to finally get paid and recognized for what you were already doing.)

[mins-fins]

★̲ YOU HAVE ONE NEW VOICEMAIL FROM . . . 나재민 !

SEPTEMBER 9, 00:22 AM

HI BABY!! okay um before you purge me and murder my entire family i'm sorry for not calling you yesterday.. it was after the first show and i was exhausted but anyway, how was the concert? did you enjoy it? do you think i did well? do you—[a small shout is heard from behind him] I AM NOT "WHIPPED" SHUT UP! ignore chenle he doesn't know what he's talking about, is it bad that i love my dear partner so much? he's just sad and lonely—AM NOT!— ARE TOO! STOP YELLING AT ME!! you're gonna come tomorrow right? if work doesn't keep you in that is, god i hate your job, and i miss you, i miss you so bad, it's going to be hard to do this when international tour dates start, all we have connecting us is some stupid phone..[another shout is heard from behind him] OKAY FINE! it's too late, we have to wake up early tomorrow, alright bye i love you! sleep well!

NOVEMBER 23, 22:45 PM

haechan totally tried to trip me on stage today, that little shit..anyway, hi baby!! sorry for the like— two calls every week but it's been so hard to find alone time for myself these days, i really like japan though, we should come here sometime for a trip! just me and you, maybe on one of my breaks, if i can even get one. i miss you, having jeno as company is beginning to get boring, i mean, i love jeno obviously but i see him every single day!! i'm literally about to go insane without you here, i'm about to pay for your flight here and make up some excuse to your manager about a family issue or something.. will they even believe that? i don't care, it's been a while since we went anywhere together, just the two of us, also, did i tell you your mom called me? apparently she really liked our performance, she called me to tell me about it!! anyway um, i have no time left, hope you have a good night, i love you!!

NOVEMBER 26, 02:09 AM

jeno snores way too loudly, so no sleep for me, and he also complains so much about everything so now i have to whisper for this, but anyway, i know you're probably asleep as well so it doesn't matter if i send this cause you'll see it in the morning but i don't care! whoops, right, whispering. i can't believe that you can't come to the shows, it's all sooooo boring without you. i always search for you in the audience but then i don't see you and i get upset, you being in the crowd would make everything much better, hopefully you can at find time to get here before the final japanese show this year.. is this corny? i don't think so, i just— i miss you, i say that all the time but i do, a lot. um yeah that's all, i should probably sleep now, i love you!

DECEMBER 2, 21:37 PM

I KNEW YOU HAD SOME STUPID PLAN! i can't believe i didn't even notice you sneaking up on me that was….. i can't start, i'll go on and on forever. how did you even get backstage? did you talk to mark or something? i don't know i guess i'm just— i'm just very surprised, you didn't even tell me anything! i'm not going to lie.. it was such a smart plan, i'm glad you were able to make it, seeing you again was so nice i almost cried having to let go of you, and yeah i tried to contain myself in front of the members but i couldn't, they had to get it though! because when you're partner is right there you can't just stand there and be normal, i did mean to trap you in that hug! god being able to wrap my arms around you again was so nice, you give such good hugs you know? i know you won't be here for long but let's make the most of our time together okay? i'm happy you're here, alright i have to go now, good night, i love you.

DECEMBER 10, 09:30 AM

hi hi!! happy to say that i will be back soon! don't be surprised if i just randomly show up in your house one day, world famous idol na jaemin in your kitchen, making himself some coffee, you might have a heart attack, i hope i don't scare you again, not like that one time after hot sauce promotions ended.. your face was hilarious, i'm sorry for that one baby, i was really just trying to surprise you.. anyway, tour picks back up in february, so we have time to be idiots and go on stupid dates, get chased down by the staff.. okay maybe not that, the last time they almost caught us was funny though. alright um— just wanted to tell you i'll be back soon! i'll make sure to pass by a convenience store and get you ice cream, and yes i'll remember to get cookie dough this time, still not sure what you have against strawberry..alright that's it! i'll see you soon, i love you!!

[suuuupernovaaa]

ngeyn

ngeyn [ŋɛjn] adj. tired

Anonymous Request: Neteyam x F!Reader where she’s super mentally and emotionally drained and exhausted?

+

Anonymous Request: Neteyam x Omaticaya reader where she flinched during an argument?

In this fic, Neteyam is an adult (about 20) at the beginning of Avatar 2.

762 words

The journey has been longer than I expected. Neteyam's parents had told me it would be, and still, it was harder than I thought.

The last year has been hard on all of us. Everyone has suffered, and we are all tired, and I try to remember that when I feel worn out or want to complain. I try to keep quiet, and almost all of the time, I do.

Leaving the only home I have ever known has put me over the edge. I agreed without hesitation, because Neteyam is my mate, and his family is my family; I will go where he goes, no matter how far - but I miss my parents, and my own siblings, and it's hard to imagine that I may not ever be able to see them again.

As much as I love the Sullys, as much as I am a Sully... I am something else, too.

When we arrive, the beautiful shores that the Metkayina live on ease my worries for only a moment, until I see the icy reception of their Tsahik. Neteyri and Jake do their best to defend our family, and we're allowed to stay.

But they look at us like we're aliens, and one of them grabs my tail, pulling a little too hard. I yelp, and Neteyam turns on his heels, hissing.

"Neteyam!" his father calls, and Neteyam turns to him, eyes narrowed, and we fall back in line with the family. We are led to two pods, mauri, they call them, side by side. Tuk bounces happily along, and Neytiri is clearly displeased. We walk past them to our own pod, just next door, and I set what few things we have brought inside.

"It's nice," Neteyam says, and I stare at him, dropping our bags. "We have to put on a brave face."

"I'm too tired right now, Nete."

He approaches, reaching out and grabbing my arm. "I know. Chin up. It will be okay."

More forcefully that I mean to, I yank my arm from his grasp. "You don't know that! Stop pretending like everything is okay. Everything is... everything is bad, Neteyam. Allow me a few moments, to grieve my parents, and our home, and our way of life."

It will be hard to adapt here, to submit to being a student, to learning all the different ways these people live. I liked our old ways, and our old home, and I don't know who to be mad at.

Neteyam reaches out again, and I flinch away. He stands up straight, backing away.

"Y/N, I'm sorry."

Finally, I break. I have been trying for a long time to remain strong, a steady support for Neteyam, but I can't anymore.

I keep thinking of my tail being pulled on the beach, and wonder what kind of people we've settled with. Now, their cruelty has caused me to flinch at my own mate, who has never laid a hand on me in that way.

Tears spill from my eyes, and I fall forward, into Neteyam's open arms. "I'm sorry," I manage between sobs, and we sink to the floor. Neteyam cradles me in his lap, rocking slowly back and forth, as if I am a child.

I feel as foolish as one.

"I am grateful that these people have taken us in, and I am grateful for you, Neteyam, always. I'm just so tired, and I want to sleep. The thought of learning a whole new way of life is... exhausting."

He runs his fingers through my wind-tangled braids, separating them gently. "We don't have to do that today, Y/N. Today we will just rest. Tomorrow, we can worry about everything else."

Slowly, Neteyam lays back, pulling me along with him, laying me beside him. Our legs intertwine, and he cradles me to his chest.

"Just sleep now, as long as you need to." He presses a soft kiss to my temple. "Tomorrow, we will figure this all out together. You're not alone."

It's just the reminder I need. Even though I'm sad, and tired, and scared... I'm not alone. I have Neteyam, Neytiri, Jake, Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk, and they all treat me as one of their own.

Jake calls me daughter, Neytiri calls me beloved, and even if I miss my parents, I have a true and wonderful family here.

Most importantly, I have a mate who holds me tenderly and kisses me softly while I cry, and gives me some of his strength when I need it.

We will get through it, together.

[dyns33]

Sentimental weather

A little Morpheus x female reader

I'm less and less good with titles

It was raining.

No, the word was not strong enough.

It was a real torrent, a storm, a hurricane outside, and no one around Y/N seemed to care.

It must have been that, and the fact that she had found herself in this weird and unfamiliar place when she opened her eyes, that she hadn't been worried for more than a minute, before running under a tree to take shelter.

A raven seemed to have had the same idea, even though he thought it stupid, as he let her know.

"It's dangerous to stay under a tree during a thunderstorm."

"Oh, really ?" replied Y/N, who had the feeling that it was not normal for a raven to be able to speak.

"Yeah. Lightning could kill you. But you can't die here. Well, I don't think so. People can die while sleeping, but I don't know if it kills you for real to die in dreams. The boss says that we're real, but when someone is injured while sleeping, they're fine when they wake up, so I'm a bit lost. I have to say, he doesn't explain very well."

"Ravens have bosses ?"

"Not ravens. Me. I'm the raven, thank you. I'm here to assist the boss. Although I'm not much use at the moment. It's kind of his fault too, he doesn't listen. He's stubborn and sensitive. I've been told this isn't the first time this has happened. I really wish the rain would stop, it's been weeks now."

If his boss didn't explain well, the raven wasn't really any better. He continued to complain about the weather, until Y/N woke up. It seemed perfectly logical that this was all a dream, and she didn't think about it for the rest of the day.

But next night, when she opened her eyes again after falling asleep, she was still near the castle, in the pouring rain.

She was a little surprised, but as if it were normal, she went back under the tree, where she found the talking bird.

"Well, you're back." he noted. "And you don't listen to my advice. Just like him. I've been trying to talk to him all day, but no ! It's still raining."

"I don't understand the connection between your boss and the rain."

"It's because he's sad that it's raining. I mean, I can try to understand. He was in love, I think, even though it had only been a month and she wasn't great. I didn't like her at all personally. He struggles with feelings. Words, people… He struggles. He's had a lot of problems. But it's been weeks now, he has to pull himself together and listen to his good mate Matthew ! I can't fly in his conditions !"

As the raven, Matthew, continued to speak, Y/N looked up at the balcony of the castle and saw a man staring at the horizon, standing in the rain and looking terribly sad.

He must have been the famous boss.

Remembering that it was only a dream, and therefore not caring about the consequences of her actions, Y/N ventured towards the castle despite the raven's protests. Still without thinking, she went to the balcony, finding herself next to the man who was causing this storm.

"Hello." she said simply. "Matthew says you're sad and that's why it's raining."

"Matthew seems to say a lot of things except what relates to his job. He has to report when a dreamer gets lost so far."

"I'm not lost, you can't get lost in a dream. I know perfectly well where I am."

"Really ?" asked the man, without turning to her. "And where do you find yourself, little dreamer ?"

"In my bed. Unless I'm sleepwalking, but I don't think so."

"You think, you're not sure. You are wrong, we can get lost in a dream, and get stuck. Better check where you are."

Y/N then opened her eyes, in her bed, as she had said. The rest of the day passed without her thinking about this dream.

When she found herself again in front of the castle, under the storm, she did not go to join the little raven, who sighed when he saw her pass in front of his tree.

Still in the rain, still staring sadly at the hoziron, the boss made no comment as she came to stand next to him.

"Hello again. I was right, I was in my bed if you're interested. Anyway, Matthew talked about heartbreak. Look, I don't pretend to understand how you feel, and maybe it's not my business, but still, you have to move on. It's difficult, okay, but as the poet said, it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved. That's life, you have to live."

This time, the man looked at Y/N, and seeing his eyes, she understood that he was not human. There was something powerful and ancient in his starry eyes. There was also something else she couldn't decipher.

"… I said something similar once, to someone very dear to me." he whispered in a strange voice.

"Well, you have to know how to follow your own advice. Of course it may take time and you can ask for help, but I promise you that everything will be better soon. You deserve it. I don't know you, but you make it rain for love and a raven is worried about you, so you must be nice deep down."

The boss continued to stare at her with a strange look, impossible to read, between admiration, surprise, vexation at having been partially insulted and what looked a bit like love. But that was probably not it. Anyway, Y/N didn't ask, too busy waking up. Again, the events of the night didn't really affect her day.

Except maybe when a raven came tapping her window while she was preparing dinner. She looked at it for a long time, wondering if it was a trained raventhat had gotten lost and was asking for food, but without opening.

"Impolite !" he shouted when she didn't open, concentrating on her saucepan.

"… What ?"

"Crude ! Mean ! Reckless !"

"You can talk ? Are you… Matthew ?" she asked as she let him in, unable to remember when she had gone to bed. Because it had to be a dream.

"Yes, it's me. Sorry, I shouldn't have gotten upset, I forget it's weird to see a talking raven. Thanks for opening up, and remembering my name. The other never remembered it, she was mean."

"The other ? Who?"

"The previous one. Look, I guess you didn't do it on purpose, and I'm quite glad the sun came out, but… You could have been careful, really. We didn't need that."

"I understand absolutely nothing."

"Lord Morpheus isn't sad anymore, thanks to you. Hooray. Except not totally, because… He's in love again."

"Really ? That's a good thing. With who ?"

"Who do you think, Sherlock ?" sighed the raven, staring at her.

"… Oh."

"Yeah, oh. So be nice, you've seen what happens when he's down, please don't break his heart."

"But he doesn't exist. You either, I'm dreaming."

"… Shit. I did well to come. So I'll say it quickly, I'm real, Lord Morpheus is real, what happens in dreams is real, you're not crazy, and my boss is madly in love with you now. Digest the information quickly, please."

Just because the raven said it didn't mean it was true, Y/N could be dreaming or losing her mind. But all the same, dreaming of the same thing four days in a row was not completely normal.

If she decided to believe Matthew, it involved a lot of things and questions she would ask him later. Because there was more urgent.

"… He loves me ? Me ? Why ?"

"You are a beautiful soul, noble and pure, wise, who will perhaps appreciate his company despite all his faults. End of quote."

"That's a bit quick, isn't it ? I don't know him at all, you just told me his name."

"Well, that's not bad enough. Some people get married without even knowing that. If he asks you, say yes !"

"Matthew. Stop it immediately."

The raven jumped with her, moved in front of Y/N as if to protect her, before looking genuinely frightened when he saw his boss, Lord Morpheus, standing in the middle of the living room, the arm crossed and looking displeased.

Obviously the little emissary had not asked permission to come here.

"Hi, boss ! I'm… I was…"

"Again saying things you shouldn't. Leave her alone, go back to the Dreaming and help Lucienne in the library."

"Yes, boss !"

Not wasting a moment, the raven immediately flew out the window. Lord Morpheus watched him disappear into the clouds, before slowly turning towards Y/N. Again, it was hard to know what he was thinking.

"My apologies for the intrusion, and the pressure. Matthew shouldn't have acted like that, but he's impulsive and protective, he thought he was doing the right thing."

"… Is it true that you are real and that you love me ?"

"I heard that these two facts were not very clear." he sighed, looking suddenly embarrassed. "I want to do things right, so I intended to woo you, so as not to rush you, and so that you can know who I am. But if my advances are not welcome, a word from you and I will leave."

It was a way out. It was touching of him, because as he said, Matthew talked a lot, and Matthew said a lot of things that might have made Y/N think it wasn't a good idea to hang out with Lord Morpheus.

He was a complicated being, who had trouble with feelings, people, who was dramatic, stubborn, sensitive, with a difficult past, both in general and in his romantic relationships.

But so were many other people.

"Matthew couldn't tell me if we died in real life after dying in a dream." was Y/N's response. "You said we can get lost, so…"

Lord Morpheus considered what she had just said, understanding that it was an invitation to stay, chat with her, and possibly start his court if he wished to. He smiled slightly as he began to explain to her, and Y/N then realized two things :

It wouldn't be difficult to fall in love with this man, as dangerous as it could be.

Matthew was right, he didn't explain very well.

[ech0schamber]

Sleepy Chuuya Headcanons

Chuuya won the poll, but don't worry, I'll do Kunikida next. I love him too much to leave him out ;)

☆it's canon that this man goes to bed around 2am (don't quote me on this, I say someone say it's in the official guidebooks on tiktok :p)

☆i'd like to think that he doesn't get home until 2am bc of how much work he has

☆so unless you also have a shitty sleep schedule, you'll be asleep long before he gets home

☆before he got into a relationship, he had a bad habit of just passing out on his couch, not bothering to change or shower with the excuse that he can worry about that in the morning

☆now, if you don't live with him, or have a better sleep schedule, he will most likely keep that bad habit, but he does try to break it and take better care of himself

☆lets just say you live with him already

☆if you are already sleep when he gets home, he tries his hardest to keep quiet as to not wake you

☆he will at least have the decency to change into some pj pants, but he still won't shower

☆he doesn't care if you complain that he stinks, his ass is not staying awake longer than he has to, so you're just gonna have to get used to it lmao

☆especially since he's a snuggle bug, doesn't matter how the two of you fall asleep, you will wake up with him 'koalo-ing' you. the whole works, arms and legs wrapped around your body, his head nuzzled into your shoulder- you are not going to be able to get up until he wakes up

☆and good luck trying to wake him up, major deep sleeper. i feel like if you were to call his phone, it would wake him up tho

☆now if you had just as shitty sleeping schedule as him? and he comes home to see you wide awake watching tv or some other domestic ativity?

☆be prepared for the glares he is going to give you

"why are you still awake?"

"I have insomnia, we go over this every night Chuu"

☆he will throw you over his shoulder and drag your ass to bed

☆he is the only one allowed to have a shitty sleep schedule >:[ now you have a angy Chihuahua on your hands

☆he will still have the decency to change, even if you make flirty comments while watching him

☆he is going to make sure that you cannot get out of bed, even if that means putting his ego aside and literally just laying on top of you

☆he knows you're not going to even try to wake him unless you have to

☆he is also a menace at heart, so he doesn't care when you fall asleep, he will wake you up before he goes to work bc 'he cant work properly without his morning kiss'

☆he's not leaving til you give him that morning kiss

-------

i am writing this at 2am, guess i really am a chuuya kinnie :p

[s1m0nth3swag]

Gotta yap about my Dead boy boyfriends sorry chat

Like

I physically need to talk about them but my friends haven't watched the show yet (WATCH IT OTS SO GREAT AAHHHHH)

Some short imagines/ short scenario type of stuff? Idk

Not proofread (atp I don't know what that word means ngl I never proofread my studf)

It is currently 11pm for me, I am tired, this probably sucks but I do not care actually

☆ Imagine meeting the two for the first time and you genuinely cannot speak because they're both a little too gorgeous, I mean, Edwin slays his outfit and Charles has the biggest brown eyes. Pretty boys fr

★ I just think that, if you're another ghost, Edwin would like you more at first, if you're alive, Charles would (because of the whole Charles hates being dead thing and Edwin doesn't like being around the living)

☆ In this scenario, let's play with you being alive and (mostly) well. Involved in one of their cases, maybe, or you went into Jennys shop to get meat or something (if you don't eat meat pretend you're cooking a meal for a friend or something)

★ Probably immediately you kinda notice a strange aura (totally not Charles staring you down because he's never seen someone as cool and swag as you) - and let's be honest you aren't even surprised when you meet Crystal and she's looking at the corner all weird.

☆ meeting them again however, you probably just had some near death experience (maybe you wandered into a haunted house, or you somehow got involved in the whole Esther business) and you probably don't even care that ghosts exist because yeah, kinda checks out

★ Charles is probably immediately on your heel (Edwin is just the tiniest bit jealous) asking you all sorts of questions (Edwin is just the tiniest bit interested as well)

☆ getting to know them better, Edwin finds he quite likes yapping about cases with you (my autistic ghost boy needs someone that ACTUALLY listens to what he says) he will be overjoyed if he starts talking about a case and you go "Oh wasn't that the one where.." because yes!! It was that case! You remembered!! Good job!!!

★ I feel like the whole relationship would come along naturally at some point. Just you complaining how you can't sleep because your pillow is too warm and both of them offering to stay with you since ghosts are pretty cold

☆ they have the mutual agreement that they're somewhat sharing your affection since you give both of them the same. They'll just have conversations like "did you already tell them [...]" and "Oh, yeah I did could you do [...] for them?" Already being fully in the mindset of 'we can and will make this work with three people'

★ I think Charles would actually have a more difficult time when the relationship officially starts though. He just has so much affection for you and Edwin that he's almost bursting, but Edwin doesn't always like touch so he has ti be careful and look for the signs and you actually have to keep yourself up and cared for instead of being able to cuddle 24/7

☆ Just a silly boy struggling with not kissing and hugging both his partners at all times (though he has two hands, and will be the middle part whenever the three of you walk somewhere.)

☆ Edwin is more a acts of service type of guy while Charles, obviously, is big on physical touch, so whenever Charles holds you back from doing laundry or the dishes, Edwin will do it for you so you can chill out

★ doesn't mean you don't do things for the boys, though. You regularly get books for Edwin (which he's happier about that he shows) and always give Charles the chance to talk to you without any judgement (same goes for Edwin, though he doesn't use that offer as often as Charles)

☆ Imagine Charles rescuing Edwin from hell and that night the three cuddle up with each other even though Edwin and Charles don't sleep, just so you can hold both of them to make sure they're still there and well

[sunflower-author]

I Win (Yandere Todoroki)

Basically yandere Todoroki after the fact that he had kidnapped you, and one day you guys have a fight, and then the aftermath...

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~~^~^~^~^

"Listen, Y/N, I am getting sick, of you always being so ungrateful, towards me," Todoroki almost yelled out. Stepping back a little, this was the first time he had ever come this close to yelling at me, feeling all the panic and anxiety rise up in me.

I am really starting to regret almost hitting him, I mean I had my hand up until I realized what I was about to do I stopped, but Todoroki was more mainly focused on what I was about to do rather than what I really did. So right now he is mad at me because I almost hit him.

"Do you know how lucky you are for me to care about you so-......" Todoroki said almost yelling again, but this time stopping in the middle of his sentence, it was weird, it was like he was about to say something but got distracted by something.

Pausing a second for myself, I wonder what is Todoroki thinking right now, all I know is that it can't be good. Seeing him and the paused expression on his face, he starts to smirk a little. I already don't like where this is going.

"Let's play a game actually, a game where if you win then you are free to leave, and call the police on me, I bet you would love that wouldn't you," Todoroki says walking closer to me, with that smirk of his starting to fade. Stepping back, listening carefully to what he is saying.

"What will you get if you win?" I ask him, getting backed up by the wall. "Does that really matter, I mean you'll get what you've always wanted," He said, pinning me against the wall. Only inches are separating us, and even with all the tension between us I still, manage to do some kind of glare at him.

"But if you'd really like to know, if I win, then you'd have to do what I want you to do for a whole day without any of your complaining, but if you do complain... well, I guess, you'll have to say goodbye to one of your dear friends," he said, with a small smile on him now, grabbing the top of my shoulder...weird.

"What even is the 'little game' you want me to play?" I ask him, with a little irritation in my voice. "Well since you really want to escape so bad, I'll let you," He says stepping back. "What do you mean? What is this game?" I ask, puzzled.

"If you can escape from me, and not get caught, in the time span of 6 hours, I let you free, but however, if I am able to catch you within that time, I win, it's as simple as that," He says, plainly.

"If you do accept, I'll give you a 15 min head start," He says. "How will I know if the 6 hours pass, and you say you win," I say. "Here," He says, holding up a yellow watch. "This watch has a timer on it, so you'll know just how much time you have left," He says, putting it on my wrist.

"So is that yes, to this game?" He asks me. "...Yes," I respond, hesitantly. "Once I start this timer run, okay," He says, finishing up putting the watch on my wrist.

"3....... 2......... 1, "He says, starting the timer. Just like that, I start running to the nearest exit outside. Fortunately, for the last time, I tried to escape, I know exactly know where to go from here.

Seeing the door, I look at the watch, it has already been 9 minutes, and I need to hurry up. Opening the door, it is cold, I see snow on the ground, and the sun is up, Winter must have just passed. Todoroki definitely has the upper hand now.

I just start running off in any direction that is away from this house. I just need to stay away from him for 6 hours, which is going to be hard, considering that whenever I tried to escape, he always found me within 5 hours.

5 hours Later:

I have been running away from Todorki for a straight 5 hours, I just feel so exhausted, considering I never really ran in like forever, being kept up in that house for so long, it feels nice, but draining at the same time. Plus it is not really helping, that it is freezing cold and I am only wearing long sleeves and sweatpants.

Right now I am currently in some kind of forest, the ground is mostly made out of small rocks, and dirt, some big rocks around everywhere. The pine trees are small with some cut-down weird. Suddenly I make a stop, as I see there are 2 different paths in front of me.

The first is like the one, I am walking right now, but with more dirt than rocks, with a little bit more trees, that are bigger than the one behind me. The second one goes uphill, I think, and from what I can tell has a little snow...

If I go the first way I will be able to run faster and get away, but Todoroki will expect me to go this way. But if I go the other way then Todoroki won't be expecting it, so will hopefully go the other way.

Plus the snow is in patches right now, so I can take some time to avoid it, by running on the rocks and dirt, but it is safer going the first way because he does follow me to the second path he will definitely have the upper hand...

Fuck it, I turn to run the way with the patches of snow, running far enough from the two-way path, I step on one of the patches, it is icey, like shaved ice. Continuing my path, I see that now it is all filled with 'snow' and ice.

Todoroki Pov:

Following Y/N's path is really easy, I mean, when they left the house they left the door open, and judging by their sense of character it's pretty obvious that they would go straight. But following the path, I am stuck, there are 2 different paths.

Knowing Y/N, they'll probably play it safe, and take the path with no ice, but before I make my move, I check the tracking device, to see if they actually went the other way... strange, normally they would have more self-doubt, and take the safe path. They must really be desperate.

Anyway walking in a straight path, now knowing I will probably catch up to them now that they will be avoiding all the snow, taking up time, even though I have less than an hour, I know for a fact I will catch up to them. Plus I just can't let my little snowflake go that easily.

Y/N Pov:

Only 10 mins left, I think that I might actually be able to escape from him, even though I am still slowly going up this hill of ice and snow, I am still making progress.

"Snowflake~" Shit, I don't even need to turn back to know who it is. Trying to rush as much as possible, is hard, without slipping.

"Did you really think that you'd be able to escape me?" Looking back at my watch, only 1 minute left. He might not make it.

Suddenly, I feel the ice starting to move... Shit. It's starting to become a slope, trying to stay up for as long as possible, but it doesn't last long. Slipping and sliding down, seeing Todoroki at the bottom, I already know I lost.

Closing my eyes, preparing myself for whatever impact might come to me. Surprisingly it wasn't too bad but still had an impact. Opening my eyes, seeing that I landed in a pile of snow, with Todoroki right in front of me.

Feeling him grab my arm. "I win," He says, pulling me out of the pile of snow, and right on cue, I hear the timer go off.....

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[finn-writes-stuff]

are you still accepting headcanon requests ? if yes, please can I request having an s/o who has pain issues due to an old injury and struggles to sleep alone? with Percy, Vax and Vex if possible 🥺

Chronic

It is always easier to fall asleep with their arms around you.

Percy, Vax & Vex x Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/ Critical Role

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Brief mention of nightmares

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

I am so sorry to everyone following me for other fandoms right now, My brain is full of tlovm content and it is all I am writing -Finn

Percy

Percy also struggles with falling asleep alone due to frequent nightmares, so this arrangement suits you both.

He sleeps with his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close to his chest. It lets him know that you're both safe.

If there are any other things that tend to help with the pain, he'll try to add them to the nightly routine. He enjoys having a specific routine before getting to bed, and adding steps that make it easier for you to get to sleep makes sense.

If you wake up in the middle of the night, he's a fairly light sleeper and will likely wake up as well. He doesn't complain though, only does his best to help you fall asleep again.

He is too stubborn to wake you up when nightmares wake him though. He's a hypocrite about it.

Vax

Vax loves sharing a bed with you but he can be awful to sleep with. He's all long limbs and he spreads out in his sleep to take up the entire bed. He also runs cold and piles on blankets.

He will do his best for you though, even if it's difficult to keep everything under control in his sleep.

The most effective strategy is usually tangling his legs with yours and falling asleep looking at you. He's more curled up, and he falls asleep smiling.

He is good with his hands, it's part of his class. So this man gives master-class massages. If that is able to ease your pain, take advantage of it. If it doesn't? Still take advantage of it.

You can't love one twin without being close to the other. Don't be surprised when Vex falls asleep in the same room after Vex does something stupid in a fight.

Vex

Vexhalia is a big cuddler. It doesn't matter how cool and composed she is during the day, at night she is used to having someone to cling to and If you're in the bed with her, you will not escape it.

She tends to either lay on your chest or have you lay on hers. It means you guys are about as close as can be and she can play with your hair as you fall asleep.

If you leave too much extra space on the bed, Trinket will take it as an invitation. Vex is bad at discouraging this. Trinket does function like a space heater though, so he's very helpful on cold nights.

On bad nights, when you can't get to sleep even with her there, she will stay up with you and chat as she holds you. Even if she can't help with the pain, she isn't going to leave you to deal with it alone.

Vex really enjoys having a stupidly large bed because she is used to people pushing their way in. After a particularly harrowing adventure, you may find Vax and Trinket both there. It's just part of sleeping in her room.

[justthoughts1310]

OG ATLA is a diverse show, Netflix ATLA isn't.

In a world where so many people are fixated on skin color and skin tone, it's crazy to me that I haven't seen anyone say anything about this yet. However, I believe most people are thinking it, so I'm going to say it.

ATLA is a show of characters with diverse skin tones. Sokka and Katara are brown-skinned characters.

Whereas, Aang has white skin and Zuko and Azula have very fair almost porcelain like skin. Their skin was supposed to be without blemish, and Zuko even pointed this out in one episode.

When you look at the live-action cast of ATLA, they are all white-washed. They all have very similar skin tones with the exception of Sokka's actor who is very fair-skinned.

Now, I know what you're thinking. OP how could they all be white washed? They are all indigenous or of Asian decent. None of the main characters are white.

Well, you are correct. However, I am going to introduce you to the concept or colorism. It allows for POC characters to still be white washed, under the notion that the European beauty standard is the idea beauty standard. Translation: the lighter (whiter) the skin, the more beautiful the person.

Which is what we see here with the lightning of Sokka and Katara's skin. Now, you might say, that they were appropriately cast as indigenous. Yes, they may have been. However, idenginuous people come in wide range of skin tones. There's light-skin indigenous, brown skin indigenous, dark skin indigenous and everything in between.

Therefore, we cannot pretend that this was the only canonically correct depiction of Sokka and Katara. We certainly cannot pretend that these actors were the best fit for the job, since they both walked their parts and completely missed the motivations and central themes of their characters.

As a kid, I know that it made me as a black woman and a lot of my friends who were brown women (Indian, Asian, North African, and Latino alike) feel seen when they saw Katara. They were able to see themselves in Katara, because Katara looks like them. I felt more seen when I saw Korra, because Korra was darker and starting to approach my skin tone.

That alone should be enough to want to cast the characters correctly. I mean we so often hear people complain about the blackification of once white characters. The most recent example being Halle Balley playing the Little Mermaid. However, it has always been FAR more common, that individuals and roles of color have been played by and adapted by white actors who do not bat an eye.

Yet, that's not enough, because Katara and Sokka's skin tone meant something. It means something and so does Zuko and Azula's skin tones.

For starters, Zuko and Katara have brown skill despite living in a cold climate, in order to protect their skin from the harmful rays or the sun. Wow.... I know shocking right? 😲

Some of you are shaking your head and thinking that doesn't make sense. It's cold in the arctic, why do they need protection from the sun? It's because the sun's rays reflect off of the white snow. Without a sufficient amount of melanin, the sun's rays could burn the skin of the indigenous people who live there. However, with too much melanin, the indigenous people who live there may not absorb enough Vitamin D. Hence, the brown skin.

Secondly (this point is more race-y), Katara and Sokka at this point when the Southen Water Tribe has been demolished by the Fire Nation, are effectively peasants. They are especially peasants when compared to both the Northern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.

Peasants work outside. Therefore, peasants tend to have darker skin amongst the people in their given region. They have darker skin because they are exposed to the sun more.

Royalty has lighter skin, because they stay inside palaces, they don't do manual labor, and they have servants, so their skin is always protected from the sun. Has anyone ever notice how pale Toph is and the fact that she's the only character in ATLA who has a last name? That's by design people.

The sibling pairing of Sokka and Katara and Zuko and Azula are diametrically opposed in the original show. They are the ultimate dichotomy.

Sokka and Katara:

- wear blue

- are Water Tribe

- are brown skinned

- are peasants

- grew up in tents and igloos

- are kind to each other

Zuko and Azula:

- wear red

- are Fire Nation

- are fair skinned

- are royalty

- grew up in palaces and slept in Alaskan King sized beds

- hate each other.

The sibling pairs are opposed by more than just their nations of origins and the colors of the clothes. They are also opposed by their skin tones in order to reflect their lot in life.

Someone once said that Katara would never marry Zuko because she's too dark. Her skin is not the skin of royalty, and that person was probably right.

However, Sokka and Katara's skin is powerful, because if you read the Kiyoshi novels you'll learn that there's a great lineage in regard to who gets to train the avatar. It's my belief that if Aang met all of his friends before the 100 year war, Azula and Toph would have been the only people deemed worthy to train Aang. The most powerful people in the world are usually associated with the avatar, yet in the OG show, the most disenfranchised people in the world: Sokka and Katara made Aang into a fully realized avatar.

[eldritch-spouse]

pinnie mummy thank you for feeding us on the daily mwah. feel free to ignore this as it's very self indulgent but I've just finished work at 2 am again and I can't stop thinking about sth. Who do you think would like (or at the very least be able to handle) a workaholic partner - and who'd absolutely loathe it? Workaholic as in - 'I need to finish this I can't talk to anyone or get distracted by anything till I get stuff done'.

Would enjoy/get along with a workaholic:

Pinter thinks that's the fucking spirit right there! A good worker is a good partner! Your sheer determination to get things done quickly and to never leave loose ends makes him value you immensely as a person and partner. He'll be right beside you pulling 2 to 3am work shifts.

Patches feels a bit more at home with someone who understands what it's like to have a lot of work in their hands. Whether or not you're passionate about said work is a whole other story, but he's the type of guy that will pull all-nighters without hesitation. The dullahan does worry for your health though, he's undead -It can't get much worse- You're alive.

Morell is a hard worker as well. He gets into he hum drum of routine very easily and he's not fond of distractions, to the point where he might tell others to shut the fuck up while he works. This means that he'll understand when you need focus and won't push much, though there comes a time where he forcibly makes you stop.

Cero works harder than you'd expect. Sure, he's an arrogant cunt, but some of his genuine and well-earned pride comes from the fact that he's a diligent worker. He silently admires your dedication, even if all you hear is an insult about not being able to find a balance.

Rieba and Jayde are hard working imps, they see a lot of themselves in you. And while one is more visibly stressed than the other, both are kind of hot messes and appreciate someone who can empathize with their 2am struggles.

**Hudsyn hopes your all-nighters are born of feverish mania and energetic episodes like his, but that might not be the case, it usually isn't. Still, he's there to make sure you don't pass out. And, if you choose to, he's there to pick you up.

Can "handle it":

Zizz can handle a workaholic, in the sense that he'll set a timer for how long into the night you're allowed to stay awake, then will make his way over to you, put a hand on your head and swiftly make you conk the fuck out for as long as he deems necessary.

Belo and Jonesy love your sense of duty! It's truly a beautiful thing to see in a lesser. You're exemplary and so very determined, they swoon at the sight alone. However, Jonesy is quick to dictate that you can no longer keep working after a set amount of time, and Belo will join in on your task when he notices it's getting too late for a human to be up.

Nebul likes discipline. It's nice to know that you don't have trouble focusing on a specific task for long periods of time, that you don't complain about it. He's filing that way for later, when it's time to train you. That being said, the wraith is very much willing to use his authoritative presence to intimidate you out of exhausting yourself.

Flints, much like Nebul, enjoys someone who can focus easily and isn't so easily swayed out of their responsibilities. But he's going to stand next to you silently at some point, tapping a bat on his palm. It's only a matter of time until he starts heading your way with that bat if you don't go the fuck to sleep.

Hates it:

Roch doesn't like seeing you work that much, it genuinely makes him stress out over you. It's bad, like at least take some naps! He'll go out of his way to get on your lap or fall asleep on your work like a house cat. That's enough for a day, stop it.

Fank-e can't stand seeing you so focused for so long at a time. He gets antsy over not having enough interaction with you and can't stay quiet for too long, so your annoyed outbursts will hurt him. He just doesn't know what to do aside from sit there and fidget, forcing himself to be quiet, or just leave.

Fasma won't quit chastising you over how destructive those habits are for your health. Like, you might as well start smoking kid, the way you want to get a burnout, back problems or a depressive episode- You're too young to be doing that shit to your body, take a fucking breather...

Obie likewise doesn't enjoy seeing you stay up so late over things that, to him, seem trivial. Stuff you could finish later or tomorrow. It reminds him of his mom, how she sometimes had to work much more than most sloth demons tolerate, and it would occasionally show in the way her mood would plummet.

Grimbly will perceive this as being ignored and will immediately hate it. There'll be many petty comments about how you don't even really need to work that specific job anyway. Sure, he likes to be spoiled, but working at The Clergy's Eye means he probably makes a lot more money than you, you know?

**[The ending of our little game with Hudsyn will alter him permanently as a character, meaning that depending on how things go, he'll behave very differently in many scenarios. So, in case things sour and you're reading this in the future thinking "That's not the Hudd I know", just know that we're still mid-game here :7]