#like they would not have done this a few weeks ago

[stxrvel]

tis the damn season

a season of sadness wanted to come to an end. 'tis the damn season and you thought maybe you could go home and live with your mate the way it was meant to be…

pairing: azriel x f!reader

wc: +3.5k

warnings: pure angst, cuss words and slight (or light? soft?) unprotected (wrap it up) smut. no happy ending, sorry

note: hi guys! :)- i wrote and published this one some time ago, but i deleted it because it was poorly received and that disappointed me a bit. but now that i was able to read it again, i feel it's a good job and that should be enough for me. i hope you guys like it :). see u next time!

Azriel was your mate. You had known for a couple of months. He knew it long before that, too. The bond snapped first for him, but he never tried to get close to you. You didn't know if it was out of fear or if he never agreed with what was chosen for the two of you by the Cauldron. 

Likewise, you never had time to ask. The battle against the King of Hybern almost cost you your life. You didn't know what things had been done outside of your consciousness to keep you alive, you didn't know what boundaries Rhysand had crossed to bring you back to life, and you never wanted to ask either. You never asked anything, living in that ignorance gave you a sense of peace you didn't want to get rid of. 

But things were never the same after that. From the day you woke up, everything felt different. During that time, you didn't allow yourself much time to delve into what the recent bond between you and Azriel meant, and he always agreed to give you your time. 

However, one day, out of nowhere, it all became too overwhelming. And you decided to run away.

You never said anything to anyone, and you closed the door so Azriel couldn't feel you. You knew it must've been painful for everyone, especially your mate, but being with all of them after everything that had happened was unbearable. You lived under a constant reminder of suffering, violence and blood. You couldn't stop seeing your hands full of blood every time you closed your eyes, guilty for the lives they had taken as if you had had any right to do so, but having to know daily that it was all justified. Velaris and the permanence of the rest of Prythian justified it.

So, you went far away, to the other side of the world, to the east. To the Continent. 

And life was not easy at all. You knew Azriel wasn't having a good time. After a while, the wall you both had built around the bond was beginning to crack and his emotions were seeping through those tiny cracks. You could sometimes feel his sadness, his pain… his anger. After a couple of minutes of heartbreaking grief, the pangs of anger would appear. You could tell what he was going through and, selflessly, you tried to think that your decision was for the best. 

Rhysand wrote to you almost daily. Paper with his handwriting constantly appeared around you and, although you never answered him, he always made it a point to let you know everything that was going on in Velaris. 

The first few days were the hardest. 

There was a heavy snowfall on the Continent when you arrived, something that had never been more than a welcome, tearing at your skin. The cold was so deadly and the gales so lethal that you couldn't leave the apartment you were renting for a whole week. Apparently, at that time, that was normal. The cold that fogged up the windows, that froze your limbs, and that made all signs of life disappear. 

Where are you? Azriel is very worried

Please, answer me 

Y/N 

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU???? 

Cassian and Azriel are flying over Velaris. Can you just tell me, please? 

Y/N, we are very worried. Please.

Please.

You had a lot of tugging on your bond from Azriel. You could feel his desperation even through the walls of silence. Those were difficult days. The cold days were not comforting at all. 

However, as the months passed, with the cultural difference and the harshness of reality outside of the family you had known for as long as you had memories, so many hundreds of years ago, you gave in to Rhysand's wishes to return to Velaris on the night of the Starfall.

And that night… well, you hadn't told anyone you were going. 

But as you expected, Azriel was the first to know you were there. 

You heard the flutter of his wings before you saw him, towering in the moonlight against the dim lighting in the city in anticipation of the biggest celebration of the year. He stumbled as he fell, being one of the few times you had seen him unable to control his strength, staggering with his feet and hands to get to a safe distance from you. His breathing was rapid, almost erratic and his eyes were bright, crystallized. The stirring movement in your chest brought tears to your eyes. 

Azriel was there in front of you from the moment he had the slight feeling, because he knew the bond wasn't wrong. And his gaze reflected everything. Everything he wanted to say and everything he preferred to keep silent. You had never felt so strongly the need to be close to him; you hadn't even accepted the bond, but you felt as if you had just done it. His eyes roamed the features of your face, his expression contracting as if he was slowly processing that you were really there in front of him. 

You saw him raise one of his hands, the hands that had so often held you in the darkness and through the sadness. If you focused really well, you could almost notice how his body trembled at the closeness, with anticipation, just as your body shuddered at his presence. 

The effects of the bond were powerful. But that hadn't been what made you fall in love with him. 

Azriel took a tentative step forward, reaching out his hands as if in a trance, seeking to touch you to make sure it was really you in front of him and not some kind of hallucination. Your voice stopped him on his feet. 

“Hello, Azriel,” you could barely speak, that suffocating feeling of being close tightening your throat. His eyes moved quickly back to yours and watered once more, his breathing quickening again. You didn't know what you had awakened in him just by speaking to him once more after so long without seeing him, but it must've been the same thing that ignited in your body when he spoke. 

“Y/N,” he elongated your name, like a plea or a prayer, you weren't sure. Electricity coursed through your body in a matter of seconds and you felt your feet move before you could stop them. The emotion rising in your chest matched your mate's expression, nostalgic because it had been so many months since you had last been so close and yet more pained and suffering because you had been the reason all that pain now surrounded you both. 

You stopped just inches away from him, your hands itching with the need to touch him, to feel him close, to once again have that warmth that would warm and thaw your soul. His huge, beautiful wings were taut behind him, being that all his attention was focused on your every move. You saw him hold his breath as you approached, struggling hard to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” you whispered the question, the air stealing your confidence, perhaps feeling a little silly and embarrassed about it. Suddenly, you felt too small under his gaze. 

“Okay?” the change in his voice was hardly imperceptible, sending shivers throughout your body, the panic of fear making its way into your chest, the bond tightening as if both ends were being pulled at the same time. “You left for a year without telling anyone. We went months without knowing if you were okay. I couldn't… I couldn't… feel you.” 

His voice became shaky, each word brimming with a tinge of suppressed anger. 

“Do you think I'm anything close to okay?” 

Yes, it was a stupid question. The knot in your chest grew rapidly, the back of your throat burning with pent-up tears. 

“I can't even enjoy the relief of seeing you now because… I'm so angry.” 

“I know…” you barely mumbled, lowering your head. How could you look him in the eye? Why did you think you had the right to go back as if nothing had happened? It was clear that things weren't going to be like they were before. You weren't sure about the others, but it seemed you had taken some of Azriel with you by disappearing like that. Proud you weren't of your actions, but you didn't know how to explain to his shattered features and cheeks wet with tears that, at that moment, you believed it was the right thing to do. 

The tears in his eyes prompted your own and you sobbed unable to contain the feeling. You tried to regain your composure, because you had no right to show such sadness when you had created it all. But Azriel was faster and you didn't even manage to put your hands under your eyes when his arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly. His wings also surrounded you and, although you had hardly noticed it because of the darkness, you felt his shadows dance around your feet. 

The warmth of his body was automatically welcome. How many times had you imagined that scene in your cold bed on the Continent, all alone and devastated from time to time, with memories invading your mind. Not many times did you regret your decision, except when you thought of Azriel. 

He sobbed too, his hands tightening on your arms, as if he was afraid to let you go again. He probably was. 

“I don't understand what made you think you'd be better off away from us… away from me, but I'm sorry.” 

His words surprised you, but a flood of feelings greeted you from the other end of the bond as Azriel let go and you couldn't think too hard. Crying swirled in the back of your throat. The level of pain and sadness that your mate was handling and had hidden from you for so long was so uncontainable that you almost doubled over, leaning over Azriel's body as you felt it rushing through you. 

“I thought you needed space. I know what happened with Hybern was too much for you and I didn't want to overwhelm you. But if I had known that decision would've made you decide you'd be better off away from me…” Azriel gulped, his voice full of feeling breaking off between words. “If I had known I promise you it would've been different.” 

You couldn't believe Azriel was telling you that. And the feelings coming from his end through the bond confirmed it to you. Azriel felt guilty about your departure. From moment one, when the panic and fear dissipated, Azriel never stopped feeling that it had been his responsibility that you decided to leave. And he couldn't have been more wrong. You loved him, had loved him long before the bond appeared, but the things that happened after Hybern, that affected you, had nothing to do with him. 

“Azriel…” 

“I'm supposed to be your mate. I'm supposed to support you, help you when you're down. I don't understand how I could fail at that. I'm sorry,” his voice was muffled as he spoke with his face hidden in your neck. At no time did he let go of you and his wings kept you warm. At that moment, that was home. 

“I promise it's not your fault,” you managed to speak, your face pressed against his chest. 

“I was supposed to be with you, accompanying you, but I-” 

“Azriel, you didn't do anything wrong,” you fought against his tight grip so you could look him in the eyes and the tears running down his cheeks broke your heart once again. 

“Then why did you leave?” 

You didn't have an answer for that and Azriel realized it when your lips pursed. He sighed, as best he could, and drew you back into his arms. Maybe he didn't need an answer at that moment, just having you by his side was more than enough. 

With the others it wasn't much easier. 

Rhysand and Feyre almost wept at your feet. Cassian, on the other hand, didn't hide it and deliberately filled your shoulder with tears and saliva. Mor lifted you into the air and almost didn't let you escape when Azriel started begging her to let you go already. Everyone cried. Possibly even Feyre's sisters shed a tear or two. 

You felt calm for a while. Complete, as if you were back in that house, in that home, before Amarantha and Hybern destroyed everything for you. 

But things couldn't be perfect. After the Starfall, you began to feel that anxiety again. Azriel could only tell by your body language, because you still kept your end of the bond completely closed to him and he couldn't feel the swirl of emotions coursing through your body. You had barely had time to get used to the familiarity of the situation when all the memories came flooding back. Perhaps you had blocked them out during your absence living on the Continent, you weren't sure, but the cries of war began to haunt you from the back of your mind. 

Azriel's shadows were also restless and that was another way he could tell something was going on. He was almost glued to your side all night, watching you out of the corner of his eye when you stepped away to talk to some friends. He never let you out of his sight. You knew where this behavior was coming from, but it never occurred to you to comment on it at any time. 

So, by that time, Azriel knew what was going on and you were sure you couldn't escape him. When he approached you and extended his hand in silent invitation, with the sound of conversations and drinks in the back of your head, you almost didn't hesitate to take it. His darkness enveloped you and, within seconds, you appeared in your room at the Town House. The party was now an imperceptible murmur. 

“Would you like to rest?” Azriel spoke, after spending several seconds standing facing each other. One of his hands ran over your face barely perfunctorily, but the warm sensation ignited too many things in your body. He arranged the strands of your hair that hid your face behind your ears with delicate, almost invisible movements. 

You only moved your head in response, up and down, under his watchful gaze. 

He almost crawled away, moving to your old bed that didn't have the same sheets as when you left. In fact, when you took a quick glance around the room, it looked too neat considering the amount of time that, presumably, no one used it. 

You shrunk at the thought of Azriel coming in regularly to clean it. 

With crystallized eyes you watched him move the comforter to make way for the clean white sheets waiting to be used once again after so long. 

Azriel turned to look at you, expectant. You didn't know if he was waiting for you to move to lie down or to ask him to leave so you could change into comfortable pajamas, but you did neither. Not when the emotions in your chest moved you, when they were more uncontainable now that you shared your mate's. Not when he opened up to you in such a vulnerable way, when he let you know that which for so long he kept to himself. Not when he gave you to understand that he was always waiting for you, even though it hurt him terribly that you had decided to spend all that time alone. 

So, for some reason, whether it was feelings or rationality, you approached him. You let yourself be carried away by nostalgia, by the silent desires of your heart, and you approached your mate with long strides. 

His expression went from neutral to confused as you got closer and you only remembered seeing it turn to surprise when you cradled his face in your hands and kissed him. 

It was rough and awkward at first, because your mate was completely transfixed for a few seconds. Maybe out of anxiety you counted ten. But, whether he was born from the same place as you or not, Azriel melted under your touch and as soon as he came to his senses he was kissing you back. It was just the kiss of an unaccepted bond, of a separated couple who held too many melancholy memories in their chests to bear on their own. 

Azriel wrapped his strong arms around your waist and bent his head to kiss you more deeply. You could feel the desperation and desire hovering tentatively in his demeanor, but he held back to give you a sweet, soft kiss; a kiss that said welcome, a kiss that urged you to stay by your side and never be separated from him again, a kiss that made you wonder why you had left in the first place. 

The softness of his movements were a direct contrast to your own. You cradled his face tightly, moving your lips over his as if second nature. Then you circled his neck, pressing him against you as if somehow you could hold him that much closer. You wanted him closer. 

But Azriel broke away, breathing in and out between gasps, and looked up at you with dark, glowing eyes. 

“Do you want this?” 

His hands on your skin burned. 

“Yes,” you answered quickly and tried to move closer again to kiss him, but he broke away again. 

“And are you going to stay after this?” 

Your eyes met his worried expression, thinly disguised. Ever since he'd opened his end of the bond for you, shedding any obstacle on his part that wouldn't allow him to feel you, everything you'd seen from him had been genuine. So you knew that concern was genuine and the mere conception generated pain in your heart. 

“I will stay,” you assured him, forcing your lips into a tight smile. 

Azriel studied your face trying to convince himself of your words, for he was an expert at knowing your body language, and you had no idea what he saw that convinced him and led him to pounce on your mouth once more. 

When the lightness settled into the bond, you were thankful you had never lowered your wall. Guilt suffocated you. 

But you kissed him back and followed your heart's desires, if only for one night. 

Azriel moved his hands along every curve of your body before removing your dress. If you hadn't stopped his movements, he would've surely ripped it off. His eyes followed every part his hands had explored and then his lips were on every inch of skin. Against the soft mattress and with your wrists held by his hands, you could only sigh and moan slightly at the way he explored your body. And yes, Azriel took his time. 

Before long there wasn't a single cloth separating the two of you and your mate simply couldn't keep his hands and lips still. Not that he wanted to, either. You moved your hands along his back, trying to avoid his wings, and moving your lips down his neck when he would let you because it seemed like all he wanted to do was eat you up with kisses. 

It wasn't long before he had you panting against him, with the sound of bodies colliding being the only thing your head could process at that moment. The tingling that coursed through your body was like no other you had ever felt; the wonders Azriel was doing with your body were unparalleled. He was panting too and every time he met your eyes it seemed to you that they were darker than the last time, but he never stopped holding you at any moment, never stopped hugging you as if his whole life depended on it. Maybe it did. 

The feel of his body against yours was indescribable, the movement and rhythm almost unbearable. You had never felt pleasure even remotely close to what he was making you feel at that moment. 

“Azriel…” you moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly, burying your nails as if it were your only stability. 

He cursed between gasps, increasing the pace and the force with which he held your waist. 

You were never going to get to touch the sky like you did that night, that much was clear. Even though your head was split in two, you looked into his eyes as you went through the most shattering, sweeping orgasm you'd ever had, reveling in the sounds that came from his mouth as he followed you to paradise. 

You thought it was going to be hard afterwards, but you fell asleep almost instantly. 

When you opened your eyes again, your mate's arms and legs were wrapped around your body and one of his wings was covering your nakedness and keeping you warm. You were facing him, chest to chest, and just looking at his peaceful sleeping face made you want to cry. Life was here, next to him, why couldn't you accept that? 

Getting out of bed without waking him up was quite a battle. Not as much as it was to sit at the foot of the bed, watching him rest, completely unaware of what would await him when he woke up. This time you were being selfish, you knew it, it was too cruel. But in your head there was nothing but disaster, pain disguised as stability. You couldn't have a good life with Azriel now and you didn't know if you could bear to see him to tell him after you promised to stay. You shouldn't have told him that, but how could you tell him otherwise? Maybe if he woke up at that moment you would stay… maybe that's why you sat there for so long. 

But finally you left, just like last time, in the middle of the silence, with his shadows following your feet and trying to keep you company. You felt a deja-vu as you stood in front of the door, thinking about how on both occasions you were thinking about what would happen if someone showed up to stop you. 

It didn't, in either case, and you knew the next day the exact moment when Azriel realized you had done it once again. He didn't try to hide his pain, he didn't have to, you deserved to know how you had made him feel. 

On the ship, on the way to the Continent, you fell to your knees as his pain stole your breath. 

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 6)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Protective Mel <3

Warnings: Smut, flirting, arguments, and working through internalized homophobia

Author’s Note: THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MYGOD. @icannolongercountmyfandoms is the one you can thank for a new chapter bc she LITERALLY threatened me with BODILY HARM /j

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A soft knock on your office door drew your attention from your desktop monitor to the sweet face of Melissa Schemmenti. You had been ordering parts on a vehicle currently in your shop when her presence delightfully interrupted your work. 

Leaning back in your desk chair, you rest your hands on your thighs as you look her over. She wore leather pants and a form fitting top that only reminded you that it had been weeks since you last fooled around with the beautiful redhead. You spoke with a smirk, your eyes obviously wandering to admire her entire body, “What do I owe the pleasure of having Ms. Schemmenti in my office?”

Mel adored the way you stared, allowing the door to shut behind her as she inched deeper into the office. Her eyes scanned the walls littered with articles about the auto shop that had been in business for decades - opened by your great-uncle in the 70s. She murmured her reply without looking at you, “Just thought I’d drop by...” 

“I saw you less than 12 hours ago. I can’t believe you miss me already.” Your eyes were glued to her ass as she turned her back to you. 

Melissa kept her back to you as she spoke, slowly walking the perimeter of the office to skim the framed headlines. She returned the playful banter with a monotone, “I’m just here to make sure you are doin’ your job and not just daydreamin’ about me all day.”

“I have time for both.” You tease, earning a sideways glance and eye roll from the redhead. 

When she was done touring the office, she perched herself at the edge of your desk. Your response was to move your office chair closer while simultaneously leaning backwards, stretching out to allow Melissa’s eyes to skim over you. 

“Enjoying the view?” You asked.

“I am.” Her arms folded over her chest as a mischievous smirk grew on her lips. Mel’s eyes flickered from your shoulders, over your chest, allowing her eyes to linger before drifting back to your face, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”

You give a shrug, teasing her, “That happens when you don’t call before 8pm.” 

Your comment had more bite than you intended, but Melissa didn’t seem to take it too personally. She brushed her hair over her shoulder before placing both of her hands on the arms of your chair and looming over you, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

Rather than meet her intense green hues, you admired her cleavage with no effort to conceal your desires. “What do you have in mind?” Melissa’s demeanor changed with a playful laugh. You could’ve sworn you felt her purring as her face drifted closer to yours. Her nose and lips brushed against yours before she scantily pulled away, “A little weekend getaway. You, me, and a cheap, little hotel right on the beach in Atlantic City.” 

You cocked your head with a shit eating grin across your face, “Are you asking me on a date?” 

Her response contained no hesitation or nervousness. Rather she seemed incredibly satisfied with herself, “I am.” 

“Then say it.” Your demeanor was entirely too confident for Melissa’s liking, and you could tell this was the case as her brows narrowed as she stared you down. Her stubborn nature had her fall silent, searching your face to see how serious you were. You confirmed your serious intentions as you returned her intimidating gaze, “Go on.”

The redhead glared for a few seconds longer before straightening her back and softening her features, “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Why, I thought you would never ask.” To reward Mel for her behavior, you rose from your chair, pressing a brief kiss to her lips that threatened to cause Melissa’s cheeks to flush red.

—

“What in the hell is this?” A voice and a banging on the window to your office caused Melissa to jump from your lap to prevent anyone from seeing how cozied up you had been with one another. 

With a wave of frustration now coursing through your veins, you rose from your chair and strode to the door, opening it to face a disgruntled customer. He pushed a piece of paper stained with the vaguely familiar markings of the autoshop printer into your face. You quickly pushed away his hand and failed to provide his aggression with kind customer service, “It looks like a receipt.”

He pointed at the receipt, raving about the additional charges tacked onto the original cost of fixing his vehicle, “What the hell are all of these extra charges? You said it was gonna cost $300 and now you’re charging me over $500!”

You only shrugged at his frustrations, leaning away from him as he threatened your bubble of personal space once again as you tried to explain the additional charges. You hadn’t noticed Melissa lingering in the doorway behind you, silently fuming at the way the customer was speaking to you, “We told you when you dropped it off that you gotta pick it up within 24 hours or else we charge ya’ for parking. You left the Buick here for over a week, man. We aren’t a public parking lot. We need the space for other customers.”

“Where’s your fuckin’ manager?”

“I am the fuckin’ manager.”

You returning his energy wasn’t something he took kindly. He waded up the bill and tossed it aside before pushing his finger into your chest, “If you think for a goddamn minute I will be paying this bill, you have another thing comin’. I don’t need some bitch robbing me of my hard earned money.” The second he touched you, Melissa rounded your side and came to stand between you and the man. Her hands were balled into fists and perched on her hips as she stared defiantly up at the man who stood two feet taller than her. You glanced down and noticed gripped in one of her hands was a baseball bat you kept tucked behind your desk, “Is there a problem here?”

The man gave a tired sigh, waving a hand in Melissa’s face. Little did he know that his waving hand was akin to the red flag waving in the face of a raging bull, “Get lost, red. It’s none of your business.”

With one swift movement she lifted the bat, allowing it to slide in her hand so she gripped the barrell, shortening it enough that she could poke him in the chest with it. You watched her lean back and forth as she threatened him - a genetic trait of Schemmenti’s as they threatened people. “The second you decided to start with the name callin’ it became my problem. I suggest you pay up before your car ends up with more problems than what you came in with.”

He made the worst possible decision as he placed his hands on his knees, speaking to Melissa as if he were talking to a child. “Stay the hell out of this. This is between me and your girlfriend.”

Melissa stared him down for a fraction of a second before snapping. She allowed the bat to slide back down in her hand so she could grip the handle and lift the aluminum bat above her head, ready to strike. You were lucky you had your eyes glued to her rather than the unwelcome customer so you had the time to loop one arm around her waist while the other raised to grip the barrel of the bat. 

“No, no, no, no!” You scolded, tugging her back towards the office while some of the boys working in the shop intervened. 

Mel barely gave up a fight against you, rather she stared down her new mortal enemy with a vitriol you had yet to see on her face before. When she was finally in the office, you released her while tearing the bat from her grasp lest she have any ideas about slipping past you to exact her revenge.

Knowing she was now trapped in your office, she began pacing back and forth with a rage you could feel radiating off her. You leaned against the door, watching her traverse your office like a caged wildcat which only made you smile. With a lighthearted tone, you tried to calm her, “Easy, tiger.”

Melissa whipped around to face you, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she was clearly unhappy with your decision to prevent her from teaching that guy a lesson. She stared up at you with a defiance that you found incredibly endearing, and what was even more endearing was the way she continued fighting for you, “He can’t just talk to you like that!”

“Don’t give it too much thought. I deal with guys like that all the time.” You calmly brush off the encounter, remembering countless situations wherein things escalated much further and you were called far worse. Leaving the bat by the door, you approach the seething woman with a serenity that cooled her boiling anger. 

The redhead refused to respond to you and her eyes studied the calendar on the wall to avoid meeting your own. She folded her arms over chest and you watched her demeanor shift from simmering anger to pouty eyes begging for your attention. 

Taking her face in your hands, you lift her face towards you and press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her into a tight hug, “I promise you. It’s okay.”

--

You drop your phone down onto the bed when Melissa walks out only wearing an oversized sweatshirt. The bagginess of the clothing hid everything and you were ready to help her out of it as quickly as she put it on. You gestured for her to come to your side of the bed, “Just when I think you can’t get more gorgeous, you walk out looking like that.” 

Melissa crawled into bed with you, straddling your lap for a moment to give you hope before sliding off to land on her side of the bed, “I have work in the morning. I don’t need any of your funny business. ”

You ‘tsked’ her response and pulled away the covers so she wouldn’t be able to hide. You rapidly maneuvered so you would be on your knees before her so your hands could guide her thighs open. She was smirking as she put up no fight against your efforts. She even lifted her sweatshirt to reveal more of herself to you; that move alone told you she wasn’t truly opposed to your ‘funny business’.

Settling onto your stomach, you lean your cheek against her thigh, staring intently at her panties, “Funny business? There is nothing funny about this...”

“Mm… Prove it.” A manicured hand wove into your hair, drawing your face closer to her heat. Her back arched involuntarily and caused her hips to shift downwards closer to your mouth. 

“Happily.” You murmured, hooking your fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down her legs the best you could. They were at her knees when you lowered your face to her cunt once again. As a professional in pleasuring Melissa, you skillfully wound your arms around her thighs before using your fingers to spread her cunt open for your tongue to go to work. 

You felt Melissa’s thighs squeeze your head for a moment as she worked to remove her underwear without trying to impact your ability to give head. The feeling of her legs around her head drove you insane. You tried to let her know how much you craved her as your hands shifted back to her thighs so you could feel your fingers compress into her soft flesh. 

Melissa relaxed back into the bed, completely melting into your touch. Her hands rose above her head to grip the bed frame - a silent way of giving you complete control. 

She was already sleepy from your lovemaking from nearly an hour ago, so this time Mel was far less energetic and performative. It was mesmerizing watching her head softly turn back and forth while soft breathy moans escaped her mouth. This was exactly what made Melissa so addicting for you. 

You watched her crane her neck so she could press her face into her pillow to catch the fabric between her teeth. In response, you swirl your tongue around her clit before giving her clit a hard suck. She gave a strained and exhausted growl that faded into a quiet whine - her quietness all centered around preventing her roommate from hearing.

You attempted to move your mouth away to give her reprieve, but her hips lifted off the mattress to impede too much separation.

Part of you wondered how far you could push Melissa. To satiate your curiosity, you gently scraped your teeth against her clit, earning a hiss then a whiney moan. You were clearly pushing your luck with how much she could handle. When you continued with your teasing licks, your eyes flickered back up to her face to enjoy the view. Her chest was heaving and her bottom lip jutted out into a pathetic pout as her hips began grinding against your tongue as she sought out an orgasm. 

For a split second you considered confessing your love to Melissa like you did all those years ago, but you kept yourself from doing so. She needed to come to you. Instead you opted to pay her a compliment instead, “You’re so good for me, pretty girl…”

Your heart fluttered as you watched a smile spread across her face. She then attempted to silence a rumble deep in her throat and hide her simper, but it was fruitless as the compliments continued falling off your lips. You breathily mumbled about her hips and thighs, briefly pausing to stroke your tongue up and down her drippy cunt, and continued your mad ramblings about how beautiful you found her to be.

In your moments of desperation, your words had caused Melissa’s face to grow hot from embarrassment. It was easy accepting compliments when the moment lacked the vulnerability of sex and nudity, but when your face was buried between her legs the flattering remarks felt all too real. She tried to brush them aside, only to have them linger at the outskirts of her mind. 

As you refocused your attention on her clit with the addition of two fingers gently inching deeper into her pussy, Melissa was struggling to escape the thoughts of your feelings towards her. She despised how light it made her feel. She hated that she felt herself being drawn closer to orgasm from the adoration she felt from you. 

Her fierce independence was battling the all-consuming craving to feel desired.

While you were not privy to her inner turmoil, you only worked harder to bring her pleasure. Your fingers gently curled within her, stroking that special spot you discovered during your youth. A coil tightened within Melissa, her hand shooting down to grip your spare wrist to steady herself. 

You chose to lose yourself in giving head once again. Her breasts gently shook with each light shift of her body - a mesmerizing sight. You were lapping and kissing at her clit softly as you hoped to draw out this experience as much as possible. However, Melissa was unable to take anymore as an orgasm washed over her and her back swiftly lifted off the bed and quickly arched back into the mattress, pushing her hips to your mouth. 

You slowed down the movements of your tongue, but you didn’t stop entirely. You wanted to slowly bring her down from her peak (and selfishly you wanted you to continue enjoying the feeling of her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head). When her back finally relaxed against the mattress, you slipped your hand from her cunt to reluctantly help guide her thighs into a resting position. You gave her thighs a couple of gentle bites, encouraging to ease up on you, “Come on, pretty girl…”

Melissa whimpered as her legs shakily parted, nervous you would attempt to continue regardless of her exhaustion. You only nuzzled her thighs, slowly smothering them with kisses in a way that gave Melissa butterflies. 

She was quick to try and move herself out of such a vulnerable position. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m already way up past my bedtime.” Melissa gave your arm a pat, encouraging you to get up as she shifted her hips to the left as if she were attempting to move off the bed. 

You rolled off the redhead and sat up, taking that as her subtle hint for you to head home. After following Melissa to the bathroom and using the sink to wash your face and hands, you began gathering your clothes to make your exit. This only confused the redhead as she pulled back the comforter for both sides of the bed as she expected you to join her, “Whered’ya think your goin’?”

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you began removing your sweatpants that you just put on. You undressed and joined the redhead in bed, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

When you were settled on your back, Melissa was on her side facing away from you. She found a way to make physical contact with you by backing up in bed so her back was pressed to your side. She shifted in bed for a few moments as she tried to find a comfortable position, and after she did she mumbled sleepily, “Be warned. I wake up at 6.”

You started your sentence mid-yawn, “That’s a shocker.”

She had one final quip for you as sleep threatened to overtake her, “I don’t just wake up looking this beautiful.” 

With a chuckle, you gave her ass a pat, mumbling out your final few words before allowing yourself to enjoy some silence before you fell asleep, “I doubt that…”

--

You woke up the next morning with Melissa already off to work, but when you checked your phone you had a message from Mel waiting for you. 

Melissa: Couldn’t bear to wake you up. You should have told me you were that cute when you slept. I would’ve let you stay sooner.

Y/N: I don’t believe that for a second. 

Y/N: Don’t worry. I’m getting ready right now and I’ll be out soon. 

You quickly sent the second message as you didn’t want to seem too over confident nor did you want to overstay your welcome. 

Melissa: No rush. There is lunch for you in the fridge. I marked the tupperware.

You grinned at your phone like a lovestruck idiot. Quickly you threw on your clothes and wandered down to the kitchen to see what Melissa had left for you in the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf was undoubtedly a tupperware full of her insanely good spaghetti with a bright pink sticky note stuck to the top marked with your name and a little heart.

Y/N: Thank you! Will I see you later?

Melissa: Open house tonight. See you Saturday? 

Melissa: I’ll let you take me to dinner.

The thought of waiting two days to see Melissa next was brutal, but you would take what you got as rarely did she ever make plans with you in advance. 

Y/N: Let me? What an honor.

Melissa: Believe me. I know.

You were smiling at your phone through the rest of the day as Melissa texted you about little things happening at school. Sometimes the stories she told you about Abbott were hard to believe. 

Her attention made you feel lovesick as you were constantly checking your phone, smiling at the thought of her getting into shenanigans and doing her terrible impressions for her work friends. The thought of going on a weekend getaway with her was only sounding better and better.

Taglist: Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27

[trolllsss]

Branch's parents getting eaten is great angst but might I propose

“I remember when you hatched-” John Dory began.

“What day was it?” Branch asked.

“What?”

“What was the date?” Branch didn’t remember the exact date. He’d only been five when his Grandma was eaten, he hadn’t paid much attention to numbers back then. He knew it was the middle of winter.

“Uh, it was winter. The middle of winter. Right after Mom and Dad. That would have been…” John fumbled. Clay did some quick mental math.

"Twenty-four years ago?”

Wow so they didn’t remember the exact date either.

“Wow that’s, that’s longer than I thought’d been.” Bruce said, looking at the Branch with new eyes.

Floyd shook his head and corrected,

“It’s been twenty three. He hatched the week after Mom and Dad left. It was in the new year.”

“Woah, woah woah woah woah woah. Left? As in not eaten?”

Everyone went still and silent.

“Grandma… didn’t ever tell you?” Clay asked.

“Wh- no! They weren’t eaten by a Bergan?”

“No.”

“A bird?”

“No?”

“A Tarantupuff?!”

“No- is that what you’ve thought?”

“Well yeah! I might have been five but I could tell they were a sore subject so I never brought them up!" Branch shouted, chest heaving and expression distressed.

“Branch, hon, breathe. Calm down.” Poppy said, arms raised slightly, as if she were approaching a frightened animal.

“No! No. I just found out that leaving me behind is a family trait, I am allowed to freak out about it!”

Poppy looked stricken and then corrected herself.

“You’re right, you are completely right. Sorry, old habits.”

“Why did they leave?” He asked, looking back at his brothers.

Floyd checked to see if any of his brothers were going to respond.

Of course they weren’t.

As much as Floyd hated it, he had started to understand his parents better as he got older. They thought they were done raising kids. Floyd was practically a teenager when Branch’s egg came along. They could see freedom and Independence just a few years off and then, suddenly, they had to give their all to another kid for another eighteen years.

“They loved you Branch, really they did. It’s just that kids are a lot of work. Trollings are even more work. And Trolls, trolls just wanna have fun.”

Branch staggered back. Rather than assured and comforted like Floyd had intended, he looked stricken. He whispered,

“It was me? They, they left because of me?”

[theirishwolfhound]

I do love the idea of an unhinged reader. Not like brutally unhinged but... like the kind that is harmlessly annoying and is just a brat to Task Force 141.

Like the mother fuckers nickname is Menace and they're somehow still alive after everything so they make it everyone's problem.

They're great at what they do, amazing even— but no team wants menaces like Menace, not even the heavens nor the hells want the damn person.

This is the same Menace who wears a devilish half-mask, but only above their mouth so people can see their shit-eating grin (think similar to the ghoul mask above) as they leave small firecrackers under the lids of toilet seats, or so people notice the way their lips curl up in mock disgust when someone is talking.

Menace who only goes through with the SAS training to one up another soldier they despised, enough to have sicked a pack of squirrels on that they personally hand fed a few days after— they even bonded enough with the little fuckers that when they were finally transferred out to be someone else's problem, the squirrels would steal the remaining soldiers foods.

Laswell, whose grand idea of knocking the boys down a peg since she's tired of their shenanigans includes getting this Menace of a person to join 141 with faint threats of blackmail— to which Coporal Menace respects, leading Kate to being the only one who is not subjected to the dumpster fire that is about to happen, but is only encouraged by her wife.

Price, who in his right mind, nearly rejects the idea of this misfit joining because of their turnover rate but gives in when Laswell tells him it would be worth it— that her wife likes them and they're an excellent solider after all.

Immediately upon arrival, Menace lives up to their name— pissing on the side of the building as if to mark their new territory before deciding it would be a good idea to rile up the behemoth of a man by asking Price: "Didn't anyone tell the poor bastard that Halloween was four fuckin' months ago? Look at 'em he looks emo."

It wasn't until then that the poor Captain realized how much of an untamed brat his new corporal was— only to be further set in after the first two weeks on base.

Sure Menace got along with Soap, but they were far too alike for Menace's likings and Gaz, sweet sweet Gaz, gave them a few too man odd glances and playfully snide remarks for their liking— meanwhile Ghost had made them scrub the bathroom from top to bottom with a small sponge, and well they could already see the forming regret in Price's eyes.

So Menace did what they did best.

It started out simple: silently attaching balloons on strings to the back of their clothes without them noticing, flipping all of the furniture upside down during the middle of the night, purposefully mocking every single move of one of the operators for a full day, sugar in the salt shaker or salt in the sugar dish, you name it they did it.

Glitterbomb the captain? Oh yeah, and there's still glitter in his mustache.

Tied the two sergeants' doors together so that neither could open it? Done and done, they were locked in their rooms for a good hour until someone cut the rope.

Move the lieutenant’s furniture two inches to the right so that he would constantly stub his toe? Yeah, you can practically see him fuming after every trip to his office.

And what irked the lads the most? Menace kept getting away without being caught— managing to even out sneak Ghost, which the only reason for it is: Menace knowing they don't know what they look like without that mask. So obviously they take it off and blend in with the many other people on base.

They made a fool of their sergeants, their lieutenant, and their captain and it was time to get back at the cunning prankster— but Menace grew suspicious. Usually they would have been booted out by a normal team by then, but what Menace came to realize a bit too late was that Task Force 141 was not normal.

And reality came to a head when Menace was called to Price's office to collect something— only for that something to be a bucket of ice cold water falling onto their head and for the captain to tell their now soaking wet and cold Coporal: "Game's on, brat."

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader 

Summary: Being Wheezie’s nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, masturbation, and voyeurism

Wc:3.0K

Chapter 1: Did you enjoy the show?

The sun was beating down on you as you laid out on the beach chair. Wheezie has been begging you all week to go to the beach with her and as per usual she disappeared. A breeze passed by you causing goosebumps to raise across your body. The sound of waves crashing filled your ears as you flipped the page of the book you were reading. “You know I didn’t think my dad pays you to lounge at the beach.” The voice of the one person you do not want to see right now creeps up from behind. You lift the sunglasses as you peak behind you to be greeted with Rafe Cameron. The oldest out of all of the Cameron children and one of the main reasons that even at Wheezie’s age she has a nanny. Your head turns to look at him over the chair you laid on. He’s wearing black swim trunks, your eyes look up at his body and see the chain dangling on his collar before meeting his eyes. Thank god for sunglasses, he would never let you forget checking him out.

“Actually he does. Whatever Wheezie wants she gets, today was the beach.” Your head turns to face the water again, glasses shading your eyes from the sun. The sound of sand shuffling can be heard as Rafe gets closer. His shadow casts a dark film over your body as he looks down at you. “Nice swimsuit, sunny. Really makes your tits pop.” A few snickers come from behind him and with a quick glance behind him you can see Topper and Kelce. “You should wear this around the house more often.” Rafe’s hand goes to caress the strap holding your top up. “Stop it.” You say and swat his hand away from you squirming in the chair to get away from him. 

Through the corner of your eye you can see Wheezie coming back with some of her friends. Standing up you gather all your things, slipping your shorts back on to show off your ass. You might hate the flirting at times but it sure is fun to mess with him. “Come on baby, don't be like that. Why don’t you come hang out with us? I promise you’ll have a good time.” The sound of his voice has this underline of suggestion to it. Narrowing your eyes you stare at him for a second. Rafe has this little grin on his face that royally pisses you off. Who does he think he is? “The next time I want to be left unsatisfied and disappointed I’ll make sure to call you.” The edge in your voice only made his stupid grin grow even more. “Trust me baby.” He steps a little bit closer to you. “I would have you begging me for more when I’m done with you.” He whispered eyes staring at yours behind the sunglasses. 

A scoff leaves your lips as you take a step back. “You’re right. Maybe I” You pause for a second to look at his blue eyes. He’s standing a bit straighter now, you actively have to look up at him. “Maybe after your minute is over I’ll definitely want more. I know how much you love having girls beg you to make them cum.” Which was true. Having to live in the same house as him let alone the same floor has proven that point. “It’s just sad you can’t make them cum the first time.” You shrug your shoulders as his face drops. Topper and Kelce’s laughs ring in your ear, infuriating Rafe as he shoots them a death glare over his shoulder. “Oka-”

“Hey!” Wheezie yells as she gets closer to us. “What are you doing here?” she asks the older Cameron. “Just enjoying the view.” Rafe replies with a shrug. His eyes raking up and down your body landing on your tits once again. “Gross.” You chuckle a little at her reaction. It's good to see that someone else is tired of his constant flirting.

Ever since you got the job a year ago, Rafe was always flirting with you. The small touches and whispers in your ear have been endless. Ward has scolded him so many times that you're surprised even talks to you. It’s not that Rafe isn’t attractive, he is but it's his personality. If that beautiful face hadn’t been so cocky, entitled, or rude you may have already slept with him. Actually you would probably still sleep with him but after hearing girl after girl. As well as dealing with the fall out of each heartbreak, you were all set. You didn’t want to be another notch on his belt and that’s all he sees you as.

“Come on Wheeze. Why don’t we go get some ice cream? I think I saw that cute boy working today.” You send her a wink as your arm wraps around her shoulder. The both of you couldn’t even get a few steps in before Rafe calls out to you. “You aren’t taking my little sister somewhere so you can felt with some fucking guy.” His eyes burn into the back of your head. Stopping and turning your head to look back at him you grin. “The boy isn’t for me, it's for Wheeze. I don’t think my boyfriend would like me flirting with someone else.” The ease in your voice made Rafe clench his jaw. The jealous green monster he hates so much tapping at his shoulder seeing you walk away.

The two of you continue walking, not looking back as he yells out to you. “What boyfriend? Sunny, I'm talking to you, what boyfriend?” Topper and Kelce can be heard trying to get his attention as he keeps calling after you. You keep walking as Wheezie turns to look back at him. The two boys now in front of him holding him back as he tries to follow the both of you. She looks at you for a second and then back to him. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?” Her brown eyes shine behind her glasses staring at me. “Since a second ago.” Looking over at her you both laugh, continuing to the ice cream shop that’s down the road. 

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The sunset was painting the sky with hues of orange, reds, and purple. It looked breathtaking as you sat in the kitchen scrolling on your phone. A video of a puppy playing hide and seek with a baby made you laugh. The sound of footsteps filled the room, Rafe’s voice following along. “What are you laughing about?” “oh sorry I was just texting someone.” You giggle, he steps further into the kitchen making his way to you. “Let me guess that little boyfriend of yours.” Bitterness and a hint of jealousy are laced in his sentence. You place your phone down as you twist your body to face him. 

He looks good. The white t-shirt clings to his arms as he leans down onto the island next to you. “What could he have possibly said that was so funny.” There’s that jealousy again. You lean in a little closer to him, eyes flicking to his lips just in time to catch him liking them. You look back to his eyes, noticing him doing the same. “He was telling me about this douchebag that he met at this party. I think you might know him, he’s this little trust fund baby who thinks he rules the world.” A huf escapes his lips and he leans in a little closer. Lips so close to each other that when he moves his lips they lightly brush yours. “He sounds like an asshole.” He straightens up and walks to the fridge.

Opening it up he takes out a water bottle without looking back at you. His arms flexing distracts you for a moment and you’re glad that he can’t see you. Rafe closes the door and your eyes dart to the rest of the room not looking at anything particular. “It’s sad you are dating him. Maybe that trust fund baby can teach you a good time.” He winks at you when he walks by taking a swig from the bottle. “Very funny I don’t think he would be able to handle me. Plus why would I leave someone who can actually get the job done.” You shrug, picking the phone back up to look busy.  You can see Rafe stop in his tracks from the corner of your eye. “Baby I would rock your world to the point that you would forget your own name. That little boy would look like a rookie once I’m done with you.” With that he just walked away leaving you blushing. 

There’s a slight ache between your thighs and you clench trying to relieve it. Before you can make the mistake of following him Rose walked in. “Hi sweetie. Would you be able to do me a favor? Ward and I are going to the Bahamas for a week to finish up some business deal. Who knows what Sarah will be up to while we are gone and god knows what Rafe will be up to. I swear those two will send Ward to an early grave. Anyway, Wheezie is going to a week-long sleepaway camp with some friends. I know it’s not really your job but can you keep an eye on the other two. We really need to get this deal done and I don’t need them ruining something just to have Ward leave.” She barely looks at you or anything for that matter as she parades around the kitchen, staring at her phone the whole time. Her eyes look up at you waiting for the response. “Of course I can. I’m here to help out in any way.” She smiles at you and grabs a wine glass. “Thank you, You’ve honestly been a big help around the house. I haven’t seen Wheezie this happy or Rafe this well behaved. It's like we needed you.” She chuckles and pours the red wine into her glass.

Her statement took you by surprise. You knew that Wheezie was doing a lot better knowing that she has a stable environment. But the statement about Rafe didn’t make sense. Sure he flirts with you all the time and on rare occasions make sure you are okay at a party. But that’s just because he wants to sleep with you and he knows that if anything happened to you Ward would be upset. You’ve seen Ward yell at him countless of times and know how much Rafe wants his fathers approval. It honestly breaks your heart seeing how hard he really tries. “That’s only because he has to be nice to me. But I’m glad I’m a positive influence.” She takes a sip from her glass tilting her head as she looks at you. There’s something behind her eyes that you can’t make out.“You may not see it but he cares about you. He’s different around you.” She goes back onto her phone as she leaves. “But what do I know? You never know what that kid is thinking. Oh do you mind bringing Wheezie her suitcase? It's in the closet in the hallway.” “Yeah.” You call out stuck in place. 

After a moment you snapped out of it and made your way to get the suitcase. Grabbing it you drop it off in her room. “Here you go kiddo.” You barge into her room. “One suitcase for your travels.” She is standing by her dresser going through it and tossing clothes everywhere. “Do you think this is good to bring?” She’s holding up a dress the two of you got a few weeks back when you were at the mall. “Depends, do you plan on spending the week doing camp activities in that dress?” You reply sitting on the edge of her bed looking at her. She walks over, putting the suitcase next to you as she starts to pack. “It’s not for camp. A cute boy in my grade is going and it’s for when he asks me out.” You laugh, swiping the dress from her hands before she can pack it. “Very funny young lady. When you are at camp you will be doing camp activities, not boys.” You fold the dress putting it back into her drawer before closing it. 

“Uhh.” She cries out, flopping onto the bed. “You’re no fun. It’s fine he wouldn’t have asked me out anyway.” Glancing at her you can see her in deep thought. “He would be stupid if he didn’t. You are so beautiful and amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” You crouch next to her on the floor and she turns her head to the side to see you. “Thank you.” Your right arm reaches up and pushes her hair out of her face. “Just telling the truth… Now finish packing, we don't need a repeat of Cabo.”  You both giggle and you leave her alone.

Making your way down the stairs to your room the sound of a door catches your attention. It closes softly, barely loud enough to hear it. You stop midway on the staircase just in time to see Rafe make his way from your room across the hall to his.  

What was he doing in your room? Rushing down the rest of the stairs you burst into your room. Nothing looks out of place, everything is exactly where you have left it. The bed was still made, your desk perfectly intact, your nightstand has the book you left there last night. If everything was still there what was he doing? Looking around once again you can’t find anything. Your legs start to move before you can think about where you are going. Even though deep down you know exactly where. 

Not even thinking you open Rafes door but stop as soon as you see him. He’s laying on his bed, the shirt he was wearing earlier pulled up to his chest. Your eyes scan down his body and your eyes widen seeing what he is doing. Rafe's right hand is wrapped around his dick stroking it in fast strokes.  “Fuck baby. Just like that, feel fucking amazing.” But what really catches your eyes is the red lace fabric he has pressed up to his nose. He takes a big sniff before bringing the panties down to his dick. You thought Rose's statement shocked you but you are truly frozen now. It’s like every muscle in your body gave up and every neuron in your brain died. No matter how much you wanted to say something or move you couldn’t. The grip you had on the door tightened as you heard him moan.

“Oh god.” His strokes get faster making the veins in his arms pop out more. Another moan leaves his lips. The noise draws your gaze up to his face, which was a mistake because you could ignore the throbbing happening in your shorts. But Rafe’s eyes were screwed shut, head thrown back making his neck look biteable. Yeah looking at the pleasure expression he had right now was a mistake. The little voice in your head telling you to run starts telling you to join him. “Fuck Sunny don’t stop.” Your jaw drops hearing your nickname. The one he gave you a few weeks into working here. 

“Knew you were a slut. Begging me to teach you a lesson.” A sloppy smacking noise reaching your ears. He was thinking about you? You knew he wanted to fuck you but you never thought he would steal you panties just to get off on the thought of you. “Bet your dripping right now. Soaking those little shorts of yours.” This made your eyes shoot up to look at him. Crystal blue eyes meeting yours as his pupils dilate enveloping the sea of blue. He moans as he cums moaning out your name without breaking eye contact. White ropes shooting up and coating his toned stomach. You can feel the blood rush to your face at the thought of being caught watching Rafe masturbate. Well more of the fact that you like watching Rafe himself off. 

“If I knew you were into voyeurism I would have left my door open a long time ago.” He chuckles, running his hand over his buzz cut. “I-I’m sorry. I saw you come out of my room and I.” The words die on your tongue watching as he gets up from the bed, wiping off his cum with my panties. His moans keep playing in your head as you just stare. He makes his way over to you, striping from his shirt leaving him completely bare in front of you. “It’s okay I liked that you watched me. Maybe next time I won’t have to use your panties.” He taunts waving the red lace in your face. 

With your brain not functioning no comebacks came to mind and you didn’t feel his hand wrapping around your waist. “So tell me if I reach into those pretty panties will you be as soaked as I think you’ll be.” The soft fabric brush against your lips finally snapping you out of whatever daze was put over you. You push him off of you and snatch the panties out of his hand. “You fucking wish asshole.” You exclaim practically running out of the room to yours and locking the door.

Your chest rises and falls in fast motions trying to have you catch your breath. What just happened? The events keep playing in your mind as you throw the solid garment into the hamper and go to wash your hands in the ensuite bathroom. Scrubbing furiously you get the remnants of his cum off of your hands. You lean against it with your head hanging between your shoulders. It wasn’t until you licked your lips and tasted salt you remembered the moment. He had wiped the painties on your lips before you had stormed off. You still had his cum left on your lips.

[krirebr]

Quick drabble/riff prompt! First thing that pops into your mind for: Curtis + possessive + “Well that escalated quickly.”

You could feel Curtis’s eyes on you from across the party. You rolled your eyes to yourself a bit as you leaned in closer to better hear your friend. And because you knew how it would look. It was too fun to get him all riled up. Sure enough, moments later, Curtis was beside you, his hand on your wrist, dragging you away with a curt grunt to your friend. He pulled you down the hall, shoving you into the bathroom.

He pinned you to the wall, covering you with his body. "That’s the coworker that likes you?" he growled, in between nipping at your neck, his hands roaming all over your body, like he needed to touch everything at once.

Your friend had gotten very drunk at after-work drinks a few weeks ago and had confessed to you that she'd been so bummed when she found out you weren't into women because there were all sorts of things she wanted to do to you.

You'd told your boyfriend when you got home that night because you'd found the whole thing to be both very flattering and very funny, and ultimately, completely harmless. Apparently, Curtis didn't quite agree.

"No," you gasped, as he ran his hand under your skirt, up your inner thigh. "That's the coworker who wants to fuck me, that's what she said." You stuttered at the end of your sentence as he yanked your panties to the side.

"Yeah?" he asked, as his thumb began to circle your clit, and he pushed one then two thick fingers into your cunt in quick succession, making you choke on air. "You wanna fuck her? Think you have the right?"

"No!" you cried as his fingers curled in just the right spot that had you panting into his neck.

"And why not?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear, his body still pressing you into the wall. "Who do you belong to?"

"You! Just you! Fuck, Curtis, fuck fuck!" You shouted as he pressed hard against your g-spot and you fell apart around him. You panted against him as he held you up through your orgasm. Then, after a moment, once you finally started to come down, and he'd gently removed his fingers, you chuckled against him. "Well, that escalated quickly."

He gave you a shark-like grin and shook his head. "We're not done yet. Go get your coat. We're going home so I can fuck you into the mattress and really make sure I've gotten my point across."

[thestalwartheart]

if you're still taking prompts from the list:

💙 drunken kiss / tipsy

Hey @dude-watchin-with-the-brontes! Thank you so much for this prompt, and apologies for taking so long to get something written! Here's a short little prompt fill for you. Enjoy 💙 Read it below or on AO3.

drunk.

When they emerge from the pub, it’s still light out, which seems like madness until Q remembers the recent turn of the clock. Daylight savings. The most wonderful time of the year. The night sky is a haze of pink and orange, and if he were a different man, Q would call it romantic.

“It is.”

“Hm?” Q turns to the man beside him. Bond. The last man standing, as ever. He looks remarkably sober for having polished off an incalculable amount of hard alcohol.

“Romantic,” Bond says. “The sky. I was agreeing with you.”

“Right. Yes. I definitely—” Q swallows a small burp. “I definitely meant to say that aloud. Christ. I’m ratarsed.”

Bond laughs. Laughs. It’s such a rarity that Q closes his eyes for a moment. Tries to seal it into his memory and lock it away with everything else that should only be declassified in seventy-five years.

When he opens his eyes, the sky is even pinker, and Bond is standing in front of him. His eyes are lovely, but lovelier are the laugh lines around them.

Deep, they are. Well-worn.

Q knows it’s just genetics. DNA-sequencing. A pinch of his mother, more of his father. The creases of his face don’t mean Bond’s laughed so much in life, really, and yet he smiles easily when they’re like this: drunk under London’s sky, meandering through the city, usually while it’s raining. Thank goodness it isn’t tonight. Q hasn’t an umbrella on him, not even a dangerously experimental one.

“All right, Q?”

“Fine. Yes. Lovely.”

“And ratarsed.”

Q wobbles on a loose paving stone. Bond’s hand steadies him.

“Mm. But a merry sort of ratarsed. I think the fresh air’s helped.”

A laughing couple walk past. They’re handsy, all over each other, and their loud public affection might normally prove annoying, but it isn’t tonight. The sky is lovely, and the company is even lovelier, so why shouldn’t everyone kiss where they like?

Why shouldn’t Q?

He leans in.

But Bond’s hand moves from his arm to his chest, and Q is kept at bay.

“Q.”

“What? But we—” Q breaks off, frowning.

They’ve done this before. They’ve done this in Q’s office, and they’ve done it in Bond’s. They’ve done it in a hospital, and they’ve done it once in Cyprus amongst the olive trees. Infrequent as it is, Q’s habitual drunken snog with Bond is one of the two constants in his life. The other constant is the cats, and he can’t very well snog them.

“I know.”

“Is there someone else?”

He cringes as soon as he says it averting his eyes. He sounds like a desperate wife concerned about Bond’s mistresses—all those overseas trips, the late nights at the office. It’s nine o’clock. Where’ve you been? Absurd, if only because Q’s the one who’s always staying late.

So. They’ve snogged a few times. So what? Q shagged a man named Iain a few weeks ago. Bond’s fucked three women with three different names since. Q forgets them. He’s sure Bond hasn’t.

There’s a messy, drunken taxi line forming outside the pub. People waiting for their Ubers, give their friends one last hug, then two, then three. A weight sinks in Q’s stomach and sloshes about amongst seven pints.

“Too many people, then?” he ventures.

“Q, look at me.”

He does.

“I’d have you in front of a football stadium if that’s what you wanted.”

Q’s breath feels punched out of him.

Bond steps closer, slides his hand up Q’s jaw. Their foreheads touch; Q’s messy curls, greasy from the day, pick up the clammy sweat on Bond’s forehead. Bond’s lips are so close. They look cold. Q wants to warm them.

“I’d just prefer to have you sober,” says Bond.

“Oh. Yes.” Q digs his hand under Bond’s jacket and urges him closer. Behind them, someone lets loose a catcall. “Yes.” He bites his bottom lip. “Perhaps one for the road, though? While I sober up?”

Bond smiles. He turns his head until his lips meet Q’s cheek—or rather his jaw—and there is nothing chaste about the kiss he places there. It’s louche and incendiary in the way of all Bond’s actions. Q’s body does not know the meaning of whisky dick.

When he surfaces from the haze of the last few minutes, an MI6 driver is waiting to take him home. He climbs into the car with Bond, knowing that when he gets out, he’ll be getting out alone. The thought doesn’t smart like it might have on some other night. He creates a reminder in his phone for the following morning — CALL BOND - DATE?? — and leans back against the headrest.

Bond’s hand is waiting for him; it tangles in Q’s hair. Outside, the day disappears into a navy blue sky.

[fuck-customers]

So this customer placed an order late last week and one of the items was special order (listed as such on the website, with an estimated timeframe) so I sent them an email letting them know we'd send the rest right away and restating how long the special order would take.

They email back upset that the website didn't say the item was "backordered" (again, it says right on the website this is special order and takes longer to ship, also special order is not the same thing as backorder) and demand that we cancel that item because they're in a hurry. I tell them we can do that if they want, but it will actually make the rest of the order take significantly longer, because instead of some items going out that day or the next and the special order going out later, we'll have to take the whole order out of the queue and put it on hold until the refund is processed and an updated invoice is generated, which can take 2-3 business days, and then it will go back into the queue at the end of the line, which will be another 2-3 business days to get through shipping again. I ask them to confirm that knowing this, they still want to cancel the special order item. They say yes, they definitely want to cancel it.

Today (three business days later) right before closing they call in blazing mad that their order hasn't shipped. I pull up the order and recognize it, and tell them hey, looks like it got held up for a bit because there was a request for a partial cancelation, but the refund has been processed, it's back in the queue and based on its position it will probably go out tomorrow.

Customer loses their mind yelling that this is insane and next time she'll buy direct from the manufacturer (who is on the other side of the planet and only sells through dealers, but never mind) explains slowly and loudly that "slow is BAD" like she's talking to a toddler and hangs up on me.

Like, yeah it sucks that we're so short handed it takes a few days for cancelations to be processed, but YOU waited until the last minute to order your stuff, YOU didn't read the estimated shipping time frame on the product description before ordering, and when I specifically told you the cancelation would cause a significant delay YOU confirmed you understood that and still wanted it done. If you hadn't gotten impatient it would have gone out days ago. Heck, even the special order would be halfway here by now. We might be slow, but the extra delays on your order were entirely caused by you and your unwillingness to read or listen. We're transparent about how long things will take and have actually consistently been within the time frames we provided to you since the order was first placed.

Also screaming at me after shipping is closed for the day speeds up nothing, it literally cannot go out until tomorrow, which is when it would have gone out anyway at this point if you hadn't called and thrown a fit. There is nothing I can do to make it get to you faster.

Posted by admin Rodney

[cantfightmoonlight]

@lunarcovestarters

Option A: Leyla

TW Blood

Shit. A shaky breath left her lips as she placed the heavy bucket of soap and water down with the thud. Every muscle in her body was begging her to curl up into a tiny little ball, to pull the covers as high as they would go and stay in bed for the next eternity, or even worse, do what the Selvi's did best- run without ever daring to look back. Her best friend was in the hospital thanks to her biological sister who, from the not so subtle message sprawled across the windows of her coffee shop, had used Aiyla's own blood to write it. She felt she was going to be sick, but rather than letting herself break down into tears, Leyla did the only thing else she knew how to do. She threw herself into task, scrubbing away at the horror scene of vandalism before her rather than let anyone feel the gut-wrenching sensation that she currently did. She had gotten nearly all of it but 'think again' cleared up before she felt the presence of someone behind her. "Fu-dge," She jumped, spinning around on her feet to catch the other's glance. "You scared me," Leyla mumbled out, ringing out the sponge in her hand and trying her best not to wrinkle her nose too much as she watched the blood run down her hands into the bucket.

Option B: Jasmine

"Mhm," Jas winced slightly as she rubbed her sore wrists. The metallic cuffs glistening in the sun almost could be mistaken as a fashion choice. Almost, except for the fact that they were latched onto her skin. The distinct and ancient charms cut off any access she had to her magic. Now, as she sipped her cup of coffee, attempting to reschedule all of the ghost tours the Seen It Route was having this week, the cuffs, besides the relatively hefty weight for bracelets, weren't much of a bother. They were clunky, for sure, but they no longer hurt. Though, the immediate pain she had felt when they had been placed on still lingered in her thoughts along with the fact that for the first time in weeks, the world seemed silent. While, she hadn't exactly been looking forward to paying the cost for something she had done over six months ago, she'd be lying if the fact she couldn't be harassed by the dead or overwhelmed by the coven's judgements that she had 'gotten off scott-free' while Rohan had not, had been nice. And now, hopefully, her name wouldn't be able to be thrown around as a weapon against her sister, the Supreme, or her boyfriend, the Alpha's character. The only problem remained, how the hell was she going to rebook five different tours and how many refunds was she going to have to give? A groan slipped out as she rubbed at her temples. "Who knew scheduling would be so complicated."

Option C

PTSD, Depression tw

Meena sat at the end of the bar. It was one of the first times she had sat, period, after the past few days. Aaliyah was finally healed up and headed back home. The emptiness in her house was hardly lost on her. Her eyes drained of even the slightest hint of a spark as she milked the glass of wine in hand. Her thumb and forefinger swirling the stem back and forth as if she was completely and utterly memorized by the red liquor. She was more angry than anyone could possibly imagine. The Catalyst had hurt her own and one who was older and, by proxy, physically stronger than even she was. But, on top of ever fiber of her being being filled with rage, she also felt entirely drained. The typical curve of her lips, her signature smirk, was no where to be found. Instead, the clan leader was entirely and utterly numb. Too exhausted to even bother to fake it anymore. It wasn't until someone slide into the open seat beside her that she finally took a moment to glance up. "I'd say care to join me, but I take it you already have?"

Option D: Elif

"Oh hey, come in, come in. Please make yourself comfortable," She assured them as she ushered her next client into her office. She'd be lying if she said business hadn't been slow recently, which one likely wouldn't expect with a therapist's office given how much had been going on in town these days. From the attacks to a witch getting their magic stripped to a death curse, you would think, now, more than ever, her scheduled would be booked solid. But, instead, the office almost felt like a ghost town. As if people were too afraid to attempt to start to process what they had collectively gone through, let alone talk about it. The chill in the air these days was unsettling to say the least. But, thankfully, there was one brave soul who had come to see her today and maybe that alone was hope.

[ot3]

tangentially related to 30 rock... i just finished watching girls5eva because its the level of sitcom that's fine for me to watch while working and someone brouht it up in my inbox a week or so ago. but when i saw the tiny fey EP credit i was like ahhh okay that makes sense.

showrunner of girls5eva was meredith scardino who was a writer on kimmy schmidt, which also tracks. the 30 rock dna is really trickling down through those shows and i can't tell if its getting weaker as it goes or if its just that since this style of humor is no longer novel it doesnt hit as well

girls5eva was fine i watched the whole thing (i accidentally started on season 3 and did not realize until it was finished. i dont know why netflix decided to start this show at season 3 for me when i hadnt watched the previous ones?) and it definitely had some funny moments but i felt it just like it wasn't quite getting where it needed to humor-wise for me. like all of the ribbing about the horrible misogyny and shit that was just Everywhere in the 00s was fun but i think over all just nothing about it was fresh in a way it would have needed to be to make the show stand out

i never finished kimmy schmidt but i do remember it being pretty funny. havnet watched it since the first few seasons were originally airing, maybe ill go back and do that to compare. but theres also something to be said for how much shorter every show has to be now. girls5eva is 3 seasons with 22 episodes total (dont know if its getting a 4th but it's still listed as 2021- on everywhere), kimmy schmidt was 4 seasons with 51 episode. meanwhile 30 rock had 7 seasons and 139 ! episodes. that's a pretty fucking significant difference. so it may be that just having more leeway to throw spaghetti at the wall gives you the chance to be funnier.

im not exactly tapped in to the sitcom market but i feel like it's been probably around a decade since we've gotten a new one that's really managed to produce what i view as stand-out and novel humor. definitely the best one since 30 rock has been community, but i also do think brooklyn 99 managed to really nail a lot of good Bits even if the way it made people act was intolerable a lot of the time. captain holt you will always be famous. but other than those 2 i don't think anything really groundbreaking has been done in the US sitcom landscape since the aughts

im sorry abbott elementary stans its perfectly enjoyable television but it's just like Doing a Parks and Rec again which was in turn Doing An Office But Twee itself.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Are you still taking prompts for the sleepy time ask game? Can you do 17 & 40 for Curtis & Honey??

Thank you so much for sending this ask, I am so sorry its late babes. I hope you like this little drabble.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You were close to finishing, your pen tapping against your cheek as you glanced at the old clock ticking away in Curtis's kitchen. Twelve A.M.

Curtis had gone to bed a couple hours ago, saying that he was absolutely beat and needed to sleep before his shift tomorrow. With an affectionate kiss to your jawline while you muttered that you would be up soon.

Soon never came and your essays were still piled up, needing to graded. Your kids worked so hard on them and you had assured them that they would be ready by the end of the week. End of the week was almost here and you weren't even half way through them.

Your head dropped to the table, letting your eyes close. "Just five minutes." You mutter to yourself.

"Honey?"Curtis's deep voice cut into your five minutes, making you blink with a sleepy groan. "Baby, you're done for tonight. Come on up." His hand swept over your shoulder while rubbing against the back of your neck.

"Can't." You say around a yawn while pushing back up to a sit, gasping to yourself when you saw that you drooled on the table, very quickly wiping at your mouth.

"Can't? Honey it's two in the morning and you gotta be out of here by seven." His hand felt good massaging the back of your neck that you relaxed into it with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Got these. too much, end of the week." Sentences were too hard to form right now. Curtis chuckled above you, his hand moving to cup your chin and tilt you to look up at him.

“You’re so cute when you’re tired and speaking in half-sentences Honey." You gave a little dreamy smile up at him, your eyes fluttering closed. He felt good, like you would sink into him.

"Cute enough to continue what I gotta do?"

"No." He said a bit sternly and that made you give a bit of a pout.

"But I-"

“I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep.” Curtis rumbled out.

"You wouldn't." As soon as the words spilled out, his blue eyes flashed at the challenge and he moved like he was gonna, making you squeal out quickly. "Im coming! Right now." You went to gather everything and he caught your hands, tugging you out of the chair and into his arms.

Yeah, that felt good. You let yourself sink in against his chest with a hum of relent. "That can wait Honey, come on."

You fell asleep as soon as Curtis had you spooned in bed. The next morning, your alarm jarred you awake, seeing that Curtis had already left.

Making your way downstairs for coffee, bypassing the kitchen table, your scattered mess was now all neatly organized, everything in place and your huge pile, half the size as Curtis had worked on grading a few for you.

A note was left on top of the nearly finished pile-

Honey, I will help you finish these tonight. Between the two of us, we can have them ready for you Friday. But Friday night, you're mine Pretty Girl. Love you ~ Curtis

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 6: Something Fishy

Summary: A curious visitor comes to Emerald Grove.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 4,831

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

‘Ah, Halsin, there you are!’

‘Good morning, Jaheira,’ he greets the florist back with a bright grin. He wipes his muddy shoes on the rubber mat outside until they are presentable enough to go in. Behind him, Scratch sits at the door, unleashed, waiting for Halsin to be done with his visit before heading home.

Jaheira grins at the white dog and whistles, calling him inside. The dog eyes his owner hesitantly, but when the latter gives him an approving nod, Scratch trots up behind the counter to be petted by his host. She grabs the banana she was snacking on and takes off a piece she offers him.

Halsin approaches the counter and smiles at the sight, always happy to see that his dog is accepted somewhere. While petting Scratch behind the ears, Jaheira looks at his visitor and smirks.

‘Walked around the forest this morning again?’

‘Indeed. The weather was perfect, but last night’s rain made the ground a bit soft, as you could tell from my boots.’

‘It’s always like that. At least they say that this spring will bring more sunny days than usual,’ she adds, chuckling as the dog lies down at her feet. ‘Anyway, did you happen to see Minsc at all? I’ve been trying to call him for two days because he ordered a fresh bouquet, but now the flowers are waning.’

He leans on his elbows and fidgets with one of her business cards on the counter.

‘I did, he was patrolling the area by the other bridge. Had I known, I would have reminded him.’

‘Oh, don’t bother. It’s always like that with him. He tends to forget what he orders on a whim. He’s always ready to support my shop since I opened but he never picks up his orders. He did, once, but that was a flower for Boo’s birthday and he ordered flax seeds. That was it.’

They share a laugh. Minsc certainly is quite the character, anyone meeting him can tell. Quite eccentric compared to the rest of Heawick, but he adds to the charm of the community. Whenever somebody needs help, whether when the flower shop was merely an idea sprouting into Jaheira’s mind or with Beaky’s incident with the bear trap, he never hesitates to lend a hand, even though it tends to distract him from his daily tasks and chores. Yet, there is no better forest warden.

Jaheira flips through the pages of her logbook and finds Halsin’s recent order.

‘So, the spider plant, was it?’ she says absent-mindedly. ‘Found a gorgeous one for you. Fluffy, in good health. Perfect for your counter.’

‘Eager to see it!’

She chuckles and heads to the back to fetch the plant. She returns with precisely what she promised him, setting it down on her counter for him to examine. He touches the long leaves between his fingers, sensing the freshness of their greenish white stripes and admiring the way that they curve elegantly around the gold-painted bucket serving as its display pot.

‘What a beauty!’ he coos, his eyes sparkling in awe. ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Eighteen gold coins.’

‘Perfect, thank you.’

He takes out and begins to rummage through his coin purse, which takes Jaheira by surprise and causes her to smile. Shaped like the head of a teddy bear, its fur is made from light brown fleece, and the eyes and nose are embroidered in black and pink thread. He bought it at a flea market a few years ago on one of the rare holidays he allowed himself to take. Many raised an eyebrow to see a grown man buy it for himself, but even though he is far from materialistic, it is one of the few objects that he has grown particularly fond of.

He places the eighteen gold coins in the palm of Jaheira’s hand and slips two more into her tip jar.

‘Thank you,’ she says with a brief bow of her head. ‘Don’t forget to repot it from time to time, the roots tend to grow fast. And water it once to twice a week. It’s usually alright if you skip a week, as long as you don’t do it for a month straight.’

The veterinarian laughs and watches the florist remove the plant from the yellow pot. He purses his lips and tilts his head.

‘How much for that pot? It suits the plant quite well.’

Jaheira stops and eyes the bucket.

‘Oh, this? Ah, just take it. On the house.’

‘Certainly not,’ Halsin protests, unzipping his coin purse again and counting the coins in it. ‘Name your price.’

‘I insist, take it. I bought it years ago but it doesn’t suit my home, I use it for visualisation most of the time… Or as a pencil pot.’

She nudges it towards him with a wink. With a sigh and a heavy blush, Halsin slips ten gold coins into the tip jar and winks back. Once the plant is back in the bucket, he calls out for Scratch, who seeks one last pet from Jaheira, then rushes to his owner’s feet. The veterinarian and the florist exchange cheerful goodbyes, and the former exits the shop with his dog in tow and the spider plant tucked in the crook of his elbow.

Halsin whistles a tune as he crosses Heawick with his free hand buried in his pocket. He nods politely at everybody he sees with a smile and continues his walk back to Emerald Grove. The town is still awaking from its slumber and some of the shops are only just opening. Sometimes it still surprises him that Jaheira decides to open hers this early, but as she once said to him, she prefers to tackle her daily routine in the early hours, then close one or two hours before most shops so she can enjoy the town herself and have a longer evening to relax or meet up with her friends at the old pub on Westway Street.

Come to think of it, it is not such a bad idea. Shop owners and employees seldom have the opportunity to shop for themselves, unless they work half shifts or rely on partners who have the time to buy everything they need. More often, their only occasion to do so is on Saturdays, but the busy aisles deter quite a few. Since Heawick has a wider variety of establishments of all the nearing towns — not counting the city, of course —, its streets bustle with visitors on that particular day.

As he turns onto his street, he switches hands to hold the plant and fumbles through his pocket to find his keys. When he pulls them out and looks up to make sure that he does not walk too far, he notices the figure of a man peering through the windows of the practice. Dressed in black from head to toe, matching with his silky and spiky raven hair, the man does not seem to have come with a pet and does not seem particularly eager to enter.

‘Good morning,’ Halsin greets him with an eyebrow raised. ‘May I help you? Do you have or need an appointment?’

The man is startled despite the veterinarian’s soft tone. He straightens up and looks over at Halsin, seemingly analysing him in detail. The stranger rubs his index and thumb together and scowls at Scratch, who does not dare approach him at all. His demeanour already betrays the fact that he comes from the richer quarters of the city and is not used to visiting the area at all. There is a haughty air to him in the way that he carries himself, as if the word ‘peasant’ is about to slip off his tongue at any moment to describe Halsin and his shockingly unleashed pet.

‘No,’ he replies in a honeyed tone still tinted with firmness. ‘But I will come back later.’

Without uttering another word, the man spins around on his heel and walks away, leaving Halsin utterly confused with his key in hand. What a strange character.

The veterinarian shrugs it off and enters the dark practice, ushering Scratch inside before closing the door again behind him. He walks over to Karlach’s counter and finds a suitable spot for the plant, making sure to stand on both sides of the desk to ensure that the view is not obstructed for neither his assistant or a patient’s owner. But in the end, he finds that it does not quite fit there with the cards and flyers and tip jar, so he carries it over to the small coffee table in the centre of the waiting room. At least, if the anxious pets munch on the leaves, they will not be sick from it.

After a brief shower and a change into scrubs, he lets Scratch rest upstairs and heads back to the practice to follow the daily opening routine. As he takes a minute to make himself a cup of fruity tea — a bold decision considering how often he drinks his signature mint and honey infusion —, his mobile phone pings. Karlach’s name appears on the screen.

‘Morning doc, sorry but I’ll be late today, Vixen just won’t start! I’ll be there ASAP, promise promise!’

Halsin grins and immediately types back as he flicks the light switches on and shuffles towards the front door without paying much attention to his surroundings.

‘It should be quiet for the first hour, hopefully you will have found a way by then. Good luck finding an alternative! Perhaps you can ask Gale? Halsin. PS: I hope that Vixen will be alright. Too bad that she is not the type of vixen that I would treat at the practice :-).’

His wrist flicks to unlock the door while he re-reads the message to correct any typos he might have made. Eager to let some fresh air in, he opens the door wide.

‘Morning, doctor!’

Halsin nearly drops his phone when he jolts in surprise, not having expected that somebody might have already arrived. After all, he does not have any appointment planned before an hour. Outside, wiping her feet on the mat, Tav smiles at him with twinkling eyes and a light flush from noticing that her sudden greeting startled him.

His heart instantly leaps inside his chest and his lips mirror her grin.

‘Oh, good morning Miss Ashguard! I apologise for my reaction, I did not expect such an early visit. Is everything alright?’

Tav quickly combs her fingers through her freshly-cut curtain fringe. It suits her incredibly well, he catches himself thinking. The way that it sweeps across her eyebrows, its colour only highlighting the deep blue of her irises… It nearly steals the breath from his lungs.

‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine!’

He steps aside and invites her inside. As she passes him by with a light step, he closes his eyes for a second, savouring the aroma of her flowery perfume. As he realises what he is doing, he clears his throat and follows her to the reception.

‘Do you need anything more for the case against Mr Bongle? Perhaps I have forgotten to include some information in the report?’

She leans her elbows on the counter and does not seem able to eff the smile across her rosy cheeks. The sight, however sweet and pleasant, does stir something within him and he curses himself internally for reacting the way that he does.

‘No, not at all. The lawyer said it was quite complete, actually. She’s revising the case and I just have to wait now,’ she chimes with a shrug. ‘I’ve come here because there’s a stray cat in my street that’s been going around for a while but lately he’s been looking quite thinner. The old lady who used to feed it everyday died a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure anyone feeds him anymore.’

Her gaze wanders over to the rows of kibble bags on the display shelves.

‘I’d like to buy some food for him just to be on the safe side, and since I don’t want to risk giving him the wrong stuff, I thought I’d buy it here.’

‘I see,’ he responds with a nod. His eyes brighten up at the thought that she cares for an animal that is not hers. Most people he has seen refuse to approach stray animals out of fear that they might catch diseases or fleas, and while some caution is always advised, too many of them end up suffering all sorts of infections that go untreated and only cause them agony. Knowing that there is someone like Tav out there caring enough to notice the change in the cat’s weight gives him hope.

Halsin steps back to peruse the selection he has got, heading straight to the cat section.

‘Do you know how old the cat is, approximately?’ he asks.

‘Mmh, he doesn’t look too old. Hears and sees properly from what I know, his fur isn’t too patchy. Some neighbour said the old lady fed him for about three years.’

‘Then let us take one for adult cats to be on the safe side. I suppose that you do not happen to know what type of kibble she gave him?’

‘Not at all. Sorry.’

He nods and asks her a few more questions about what behaviours she has noticed from the cat in general. Once he is able to define a clearer profile of the animal, he picks a bag and sets it down on the counter, pointing at the information written on it with his pen.

‘This is food that is perfect for a cat used to the outdoors, aged five years or more. If it turns out that he is slightly younger, that should not cause any trouble. Since you said that he is on the lighter side, I would recommend thirty grammes of kibble per day. See how much he manages to eat and add a little more if he starts gaining a bit of weight again. But do not give him more than forty-five grammes, since it is likely that he hunts mice or birds on the side.’

‘Noted!’

Reaching into a cabinet behind the reception, he takes out a measuring cup and places it next to the bag.

‘This should help you measure the food without a kitchen scale.’

‘Practical. Alright, let’s take it!’

Halsin smiles and circles the recommended doses on the bag so she does not forget the amount he has told her to give the stray cat. He signs in to his software and enters the right reference to log the sale.

‘Would you like me to add it to your patient account in case you need to buy some new kibble later on?’

‘Gladly,’ she responds cheerfully, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand while watching him typing on the keyboard.

‘Done! That will be twenty-two gold coins, please. The measuring cup is free.’

Tav takes out her credit card and pays for the bag. Once her wallet is stored away into her small cross-body bag, she carries the dry food under her arm and holds the measuring cup between her fingers.

‘Thank you very much, doctor.’

‘You are most welcome. If anything, I should thank you for caring for the cat.’

She returns his smile and tucks her hair behind her pointy ear, whose tip is reddening. Before he starts staring at it, Halsin drums his fingers on the counter.

‘Oh, before I forget, I beg you not to leave out milk for the cat, because—’

‘— because cats are naturally lactose intolerant,’ she completes his sentence with a smug expression that can be likened to this of a pupil who is proud to show that they have learnt their lessons by heart.

‘Indeed,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, it seems that the cat is in most capable hands, I can sleep soundly at night.’

Tav laughs and readjusts her grip on the bag.

‘When I’m released into society, I’m the type to always bring up that fact and everyone gets annoyed,’ she laughs.

‘At least you are spreading the good word out there. I did not know that you were doing public service on top of jingle compositions.’

‘I’m full of surprises, doctor.’

They share a playful grin, which lingers perhaps a bit longer than it should. His heart stirs when he notices the twinkle in her eye and the subtle reddening of her cheekbones. When her fingers unconsciously loosen around the measuring cup and it slips out of her grasp, he skilfully catches it before it bounces on the floor and hands it back to her.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbles bashfully, tucking it under her free arm. ‘If anything goes wrong with the cat, can I try and bring him here?’

‘Of course. I will be happy to help.’

‘You’re the best! Thanks again. Have a lovely day, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard. If you have any doubts, you can always contact me.’

‘I will!’

She waves at him and walks out of the practice. His eyes follow her as he sighs dreamily. However, his distraction is quickly cut short when he finds himself face to face with Astarion stepping inside with a cup of blood from the butcher.

‘Morning.’

‘Ah, good morning, my friend! Could I ask you a favour?’

The vampire grunts and slides his sunglasses up, letting them rest on top of his head. His ruby irises scowl at the veterinarian. Favours are never good in the younger man’s book. Or rarely.

‘I suppose I don’t have a choice,’ he mumbles. ‘What do you want?’

Halsin crosses his arms. No matter how much he tries to connect with him, even if just on a superficial level, Astarion always keeps his guard up and his distance. Honeyed words sometimes ornate his speech, but they never feel genuine, merely a façade that shelters him from others. He does not need to befriend him, of course, but he wishes that they could get along as well as he and Karlach do. But again, everything is easier with her. Sometimes, she might be too social and kind in a world that does not always value such qualities.

‘Karlach’s motorcycle broke down this morning, so she will be late. Do you mind working the reception until she arrives?’

Panic fills Astarion’s eyes right away. He furrows his brow and tries to act nonchalant, but his hesitation clearly stands out.

‘Wh— I don’t even know how any of this works!’

‘Do not worry, I am not saying that you must do all her tasks. If you could keep an eye on the appointments list and welcome the patients, that will help tremendously already. If the phone rings, answer it and write down the names and numbers, I will call them back between consultations. If it is urgent, do not hang up; call for me instead.’

‘Mh. That sounds doable. Alright.’

Astarion walks to the kitchen to drop his jacket and sunglasses, then comes back to the reception. He sits behind the desk and Halsin shows him everything he needs to know. Then, the veterinarian walks into his office and logs in to the general inbox and answers some emails himself.

Soon enough, the first appointment of the day arrives and Astarion directs them to the waiting room, where Halsin eventually comes to call them in. The consultation goes smoothly despite the very reticent puppy howling dramatically at the prospect of receiving one of her first shots. When he is done, Halsin guides the owner and the pet to the reception and registers the payment himself, before offering a treat to the brave puppy.

When they walk out, Halsin’s phone pings again.

‘Found a way, Dammon is bringing me. Be there in ten. Btw, doc, did you just make a joke?? And use a smiley??! Who are you and what did you do to Doc Halsin???’

Halsin laughs and updates Astarion on Karlach’s estimated time of arrival. Before the second consultation, a grumpy customer enters and asks for an anti-flea treatment suitable for a corgi. Once he has explained how to apply the solution efficiently, the veterinarian slithers back behind the desk and Astarion rolls a few inches away with his chair to give him enough space to deal with it all. 

‘Do you already have an account?’ Halsin asks the amber-eyed tiefling, whose tail is whipping around behind him in annoyance.

‘This little shit is not my dog, thank the Gods!’ the customer answers with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. ‘He’s my sister’s.’

‘I see. Does she have an account?’

‘Listen, can I just buy the treatment and go? I feel like I’m being devoured by fleas myself as we speak!’

‘Of course.’

Without protesting, he processes the sale and gives the little pipettes to the young man, who turns around with another scoff and leaves as fast as he can, scratching his head harder than he probably should.

Eyeing the man with concern, Halsin leans towards Astarion.

‘Do you think the dog is at risk with him?’

Much to his surprise, the vampire laughs while filing his nails and admiring the result.

‘Most likely. I know him. Well, know is perhaps a strong word, but I’ve spoken to him a few times. As you can clearly tell, he’s from the city. He’s one of the most arrogant pricks I’ve talked to, and it takes one to know one. He owns a bookshop specialised in academic publications of all sorts, and my husband happens to love the place.’

Could it be? Is he actually opening up by accepting to gossip with him? Not that Halsin particularly likes hearsay and talking negatively about people in their backs, but this exchange already brightens up his day.

The vampire carefully taps his glass nail file on the edge of the bin under the desk to rid it of dust, then tucks it away in its little sleeve.

‘But don’t worry, Rolan’s all bark and no bite, he won’t hurt that pup,’ he continues while shoving the file inside his shirt pocket. ‘You know, he’s clever and all, but Gale took him down a notch a couple of times. You know what? I think my husband’s at his hottest when he gives arrogant people a reality check.’

‘That is good to know, I suppose.’

‘Trust me, doc, I think your next appointment’s here.’

Indeed, the next patient comes in and Halsin welcomes him warmly. Halfway through the consultation, he hears the faint sounds of the sewing machine upstairs, and he concludes that Karlach must have arrived in the meantime and relieved Astarion of his temporary duty.

Halsin does not see her until he finishes the next examination and logs everything into the computer. His assistant pokes her head in when the patient leaves and speaks in a hushed voice.

‘Morning, doc! Uh… There’s an odd chum lurking around in the lobby, doesn’t have a pet or anything and he keeps ignoring me when I ask him if I can help him.’

The veterinarian turns around with an eyebrow raised and instantly rises from his high stool.

‘Go back to the reception, I will talk to him.’

Karlach nods and does as he instructed her, sitting back on her chair and anxiously browsing playlists for something that will calm her nerves while being acceptable to play from the practice’s speakers. Situations like this one is among those she has been dreading most about working at Emerald Grove. Owners losing their pets and leaving without their furry or feathery friends remains the worst of all, but weird and creepy people are close.

In previous jobs, she had her fair share of lurking visitors and customers who made her feel uncomfortable, but the employee handbooks always stated that she could not shoo them away outright. Either a manager or security had to do it. Sadly, it often left her feeling incapable of fending for herself and infantilised.

Soon enough and much to her relief, help is on the way and Halsin arrives, clicking a pen. Without making himself look menacing either, he puffs up his chest slightly. If anybody seeks trouble, he is hoping that his size and his brawn will dissuade whoever stands before him. But as he catches a glimpse of the man in question, his stomach tightens. Intent on not showing his discomfort to Karlach, he smiles and speaks as naturally as possible.

‘Good afternoon, sir. I believe we have met this morning, you were looking inside the practice before opening time?’

The man turns around with a smug smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes so dark that one cannot quite pinpoint their colour. Now that Halsin is closer, he can discern the man’s outfit more clearly. Tucked into high-waisted trousers, his tailored black silk shirt with the top five buttons left undone allows his black chest hair to peek out. His overcoat adorned with golden embroideries has its collar upturned, completely covering the back of his neck. If anything, it gives him a menacing look, as though he is the villain of a fairytale come to life, but dressed as a model.

‘You are the veterinarian who owns the practice, aren’t you?’ the man answers at last with a brief squint of his eyes.

‘Indeed, I am. May I be of any help?’

‘Oh, I am merely looking around.’

As he says so, the stranger buries his hands into his pockets and paces around, inspecting the walls and the layout of the reception and the waiting room. Karlach sneaks a glance towards her boss, wondering how he is going to handle this most peculiar situation. Without blinking, Halsin steps forward, tucking his pen into the breast pocket of his scrubs.

‘May I know what you are looking for, sir?’

‘This is a beautiful working space you’ve got here. Most impressive.’

Before he can press him on, the stranger faces Halsin with a smirk, rubbing his fingers together in the same unsettling way that he did earlier this morning.

‘Tell me, have you ever considered selling this practice?’

Halsin crosses his arms. This time, he has no intention to behave in the same friendly manner. While he knows that escalating such a ridiculous situation would be useless, he knows now that he does not want this man lurking around anymore.

‘No, sir. We have only just opened, thank you very much. Now, if you do not wish to make an appointment or buy anything for a pet, I kindly ask you to leave. I must soon tend to another patient.’

‘Oh, that’s a bloody shame. Well. I’ll see what I can do.’

The man reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a business card, which he hands the veterinarian by tucking it between two well-groomed fingers.

‘In case you change your mind, I would be very happy to discuss it with you. Here’s my contact information. The name’s Enver Gortash.’

Without as much as a goodbye, Gortash walks out of the practice, leaving a dumbfounded pair at the reception. Karlach stands up from her chair, her gaze shifting between the door and Halsin.

‘What in the hells just happened, doc? What the fuck was that about?’

Her boss examines the business card he is holding with a deep frown.

‘I have no clue, Karlach. I am quite at a loss, to be honest with you.’

‘What did he say his name was?’

Halsin hands her the business card. Before she even gives it a look, she sits back on her chair and drags her keyboard towards herself, instantly typing the name in her browser. His curiosity piqued by the results, he joins her behind the desk and leans in to read what comes up on the screen. Karlach clicks on a biographical article from a business-centred media website and begins to skim it.

‘Fuck me, Gortash’s quite the big guy,’ she mumbles pensively. ‘Owns a big company that owns lots of brands itself. Apparently, he’s known for gentrifying the shit out of many neighbourhoods in several cities already. He’s kicked out independent shops to establish a coffee chain and turning flats into offices.’

His eyes scan the same words and the more they read, the tighter the lump in his throat feels. Karlach hands him the mouse so he can peruse the article himself and open others. He checks several sources, and much to his dismay, the information they read in the first article seem to be confirmed through others.

‘I do not like how that sounds,’ he whispers.

‘Me neither, doc. But now that you told him off, he’ll lose interest, right?’

‘Mh. I doubt it. But now I wonder if he has shown interest in other places in Heawick. There is only one way to know.’

The assistant looks up quizzically as he sighs heavily and crosses his arms.

‘If anybody in Heawick knows anything, it is Melly.’

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @reignydeys @cakenpiewhyohmy @beardedladyqueen

[barbieaiden]

they're practically lying next to each other!!!!!

[anistarrae]

why is it just floating there. sickening

[hua-fei-hua]

read a sick as hell arlebina fic by @followerofmercy a few months ago, and the title ended up sticking in my head. i actually meant to do this more carefully on calligraphy paper, but then earlier today i noticed that i refilled my pens with colors that all go together for once and decided to ride the impulse to see how la colombe envie les cygneaux might look with them. fortunately, the light on the train decided to cooperate.

[beannary]

Ok so I was at work today and before I left my mom was like hey we’ll visit you at work today what time do you finish etc etc and she was like ok I’ll text you when we’re on our way and so I go the whole day being like I am waiting for a text from my mother saying that she my dad and my grandma are on their way to the museum and then it gets to the end of my shift and I have received no text so I’m like ok they clearly aren’t coming otherwise they would have let me know so I clock out and leave and ten minutes after my shift ended my mom calls me and is like hey where are you and I’m like hello??? I finished work??? I’m walking back to the car??? And she’s like ok well we are here and I’m like 🧍‍♂️ ok so I walk back to the museum and I get there and she’s like hey now we can go see the galleries together and I’m like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ girlie last call happened ten minutes ago we cannot go see the galleries because the museum is fully closing in 30 minutes and she’s like oh I didn’t know that and I’m like yeah you should have looked it up?? Or like asked me??? Or like come when I was working my shift because then you can like guarantee that everything is open

Anyways I’m just annoyed and it’s not even that much of an annoying thing I’m just extra annoyed because I’ve had an awful headache all day and I had to do twenty minutes of extra walking around with my parents and my grandma after work when I should have been driving home and listening to a podcast