#this is what I get for over doing it today

[felassan]

Cliff notes on the new info on Dragon Age: The Veilguard in today’s issue of Game Informer (magazine hub link):

Edit/update: I tidied up this post. ^^

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In CC you can customize things like shoulder width, chest size, glute size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, nose crookedness, and more

There are hundreds of sliders for body proportions

CC detail: “Features like skin hue, tone, melanin”

There is nudity in DA:TV, “which I learned firsthand while customizing my Rook” in CC

Rook’s backstory also affects “reputation standing”, along with the other previously-known things like in-game dialogue etc

Lords of Fortune are pirate-themed, “piratic”

Rook ascends because of competency, not because of a magical McGuffin, contrasting with the 'destiny-has-chosen you’ angle DA:I has for the Inquisitor

Rook is here because they chose to be, “and that speaks to the kind of character that we’ve built. Someone needs to stop this, and Rook says, ‘I guess that’s me'”

The 4 voices we can choose for Rook each have a pitch shifter in CC

The game starts inside the bar (as previously detailed in other coverage)

In some dialogue wheels there is a “romantically inclined ‘emotional’ response” option. These are the replies that will build relationships with characters, romantic and platonic alike, but you can ignore them if you want to. Giving a companion the cold shoulder might nudge them into another companion’s embrace however

Bellara’s surname is Lutara

In the streets of Minrathous (in the opening segment of the game), there is a wide, winding pathway with a pub which has a dozen NPCs in it (is this The Swan tavern?)

The devs used the DA:TV CC to make each in-world NPC, except for specific characters like companions

There is smart use of verticality, scaling and wayfinding in the gameplay

If you play as e.g. a qunari Rook, the camera adjusts to ensure larger characters like them loom over those below. The camera also adjusts appropriately for dwarves to demonstrate their smaller stature

Neve Gallus is described as being capable

The Venatori Cultists we fight in the opening segment of the game are seizing the chaos caused by the demons unleashed by Solas’ ritual to try and take the opportunity to take over the city

As you traverse deeper and deeper into Solas’ hideout, more of his murals appear on the walls, and things 'get more elven'. Rhodes says “this is because you’re symbolically going back in time, as Minrathous is a city built by mages on the bones of what was originally the home of the elves”

At the heart of Solas’ hideout is his personal eluvian

Demons are fully redesigned in this game, on their original premise as creatures of feeling that live and die off the emotions around them. “As such, they are just a floating nervous system, pushed into this world from the Fade, rapidly assembled into bodies out of whatever scraps they find”

In the opening, we stop Solas’ ritual and save the world. “For now” anyways. Rook passes out moments later and wakes up in a dream-like landscape to the voice of Solas. He explains that a few drops of Rook’s blood interacted with the ritual, connecting them to the Fade forever. (I guess this is why they said in the Discord Q&A on June 14th that Rook has good reasons to want to avoid blood magic)

He also says that he was attempting to move Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain (confirming who the two Evil Gods are) to a new prison, because the one he had previously constructed was failing. Unfortunately, Solas is trapped in the Fade by our doing, and the two gods are now free. “It’s up to Rook to stop them”, thus setting the stage for our adventure

Rook wakes up after this with Harding and Neve “in the lair of the Dread Wolf himself”, a special magical realm in the Fade called The Lighthouse. It’s a towering structure centered amongst various floating islands. This is where the team bonds, grows, and prepares for its adventures. It becomes more functional and homier as you do. “Already, though, it’s a beautifully distraught headquarters for the Veilguard, although they aren’t quite referring to themselves as that just yet”.

Because it was Solas’ home base, it's gaudy, with his fresco murals adorning various walls, greenery hanging from above, and hues of purple and touches of gold everywhere. Since it’s in the Fade, which is a realm of dreams that responds to your world state and emotion, the Lighthouse “reflects the chaos and disrepair of the Thedas you were in moments ago”

Clock symbols over dialogue icons signal optional dialogue options

At this point you can head over to Neve, engage in dialogue, and try and flirt with her

There is a dining hall in the Lighthouse. A plate, cutlery and a drinking chalice are at the end of a massive table. Matt Rhodes says that this is a funny and sad look at Solas’ isolated existence, and an example of the detail BioWare’s art team has put into DA:TV. “It’s like when you go to a friend’s house and see their bedroom for the first time; you get to learn more about them”

There is also a library, which is the central area of the The Lighthouse. It’s here that the party will often regroup and prepare for what’s next

The team decides that it must reach the ritual site back in Arlathan Forest. Corinne Busche said that the writer was "missing unique dialogue options here because I’m qunari; an elf would have more to say about the Fade due to their connection to it. The same goes for my backstory earlier in Minrathous. If I had picked the Shadow Dragons background, Neve would have recognized me immediately, with unique dialogue”

The team decide their next move. They go to Solas’ eluvian and back through to the ritual site in Arlathan Forest. However, it’s not fully functional without Solas, and while it returns them to the Forest, it’s not exactly where they want to go. Then a demon-infested suit of mechanized armor known as a Sentinel attacks them, and two NPCs appear to save you: the Veil Jumpers Strife and Irelin. Harding recognizes them, which you would expect if you read the comic Dragon Age: The Missing. They are experts in ancient elven magic. A cutscene ensues and we learn that Strife and Irelin need help finding Bellara Lutara. This cutscene is long and has multiple dialogue options.

“There’s a heavy emphasis on storytelling and dialogue, and it feels deep and meaty, like a good fantasy novel. BioWare doesn’t shy away from minutes-long cutscenes”

For Rook, this story is about what does it mean to be a leader? We define their leadership style with our choices. “From the sound of it, my team will react to my chosen leadership style in how my relationships play out.” This is demonstrated within the game’s dialogue and a special relationship meter on each character’s companion screen

Bellara is deep within Arlathan Forest, and following the events of the prologue, something is up here. Three rings of massive rocks fly through the air, protecting what appears to be a central fortress. Demon Sentinels plague the surrounding lands.

In gameplay/combat, players complete every swing in real time. Special care was taken in development for animation swing-through and cancelling. We can dash, parry, charge moves, and a completely revamped healing system that allows us to use potions at our discretion by hitting right on the d-pad. You can combo attacks and even ‘bookmark’ combos with a quick dash, which means that you can pause a combo’s status with a dash to safety and continue the rest of the combo afterward

Abilities can be used to customize your kit. They can be used on the fly as long as you account for cooldowns

When you pause and pull up the ability Wheel, it highlights you and your companions’ skills. There you can choose abilities, queue them, target specific enemies, and strategize with synergies and combos

Each character plays the same in that you execute light and heavy attacks with the same buttons, use abilities with the same buttons, and interact with the combo wheel in the same way, regardless of which class you select

Sword and shield warriors can hip-fire or aim their shield and throw it like Captain America

Warriors can parry incoming attacks which can stagger enemies. Rogues have a larger parry window. The mage the writer played couldn’t parry at all. Instead they throw up a shield that blocks incoming attacks automatically, so long as you have the mana to maintain it

On the start/pause screen: it has the map, journal, character sheets, skill tree, and a library for lore information. You can use it to cross-compare equipment and equip new gear for Rook and their companions, build weapon loadouts for quick change-ups mid-combat, and customize you and your party’s abilities and builds via an easy-to-understand skill tree. There aren’t in-depth minutiae, just "real numbers". For example, an unlocked trait might increase damage by 25 percent against armor, but that’s as in-depth as the numbers get. Passive abilities unlock jump attacks and guarantee critical hit opportunities, while abilities add moves like a Wall of Fire to your arsenal if you’re a mage. As you spec out this skill tree, which is 100 percent bespoke to each class, you’ll work closer to unlocking a spec, complete with a unique ultimate ability

“Sentinels and legions of darkspawn”

Combat is flashy and quick, with different types of health bars. Greenish-blue represents a barrier, which is taken down most effectively with ranged attacks

The game is gorgeous, with sprinkles, droplets, and splashes of magic in each attack a mage unleashes

The game looks amazing on consoles both in fidelity and performance modes

The mission to find Bellara is called “In Entropy’s Grasp”. You find her. She is the first companion you recruit (as Neve auto-joins). If your background is Veil Jumper, you get unique dialogue here with Bellara. She explains that everyone there is all trapped in a Veil Bubble, and there’s no way out once you pass through it. Despite the dire situation, she is bubbly, witty, and charming. She is spunky and effervescent

Companions are the faces of their factions, and in this case with Bellara, their entire area of the world. She is our window into Arlathan Forest. She is described as a sweetheart and a nerd for ancient elven artifacts, which is why she’s dressed more like an academic than a combatant. Her special arm gauntlet is useful both for tinkering with her environment and taking down enemies. While Neve uses ice magic and can slow time with a special ability, Bellara specializes in electricity, and she can also use magic to heal you. Her electric magic is effective against Sentinels. “However, without Bellara, we could also equip a rune that converts my ice magic, for a brief duration, into electricity to counter the Sentinels”

If you don’t direct your companions in combat, they are fully independent and will attack on their own

You progress at this point through the Forest, encountering more and more darkspawn. Bellara says that they have never been this far before because the underground Deep Roads, which they usually escape from, aren’t nearby. However, with “blighted” (BLIGHTED!) elven gods roaming the world, and thanks to the Blight’s radiation-like spread, it’s a much bigger threat in DA:TV than any prior DA game

The Forest has elven ruins, dense greenery and disgusting Blight tentacles and pustules

The style of the game is more high fantasy than anything in the series thus far and almost reminiscent of the whimsy of Fable. Matt Rhodes says that this is the result of the game’s newfound dose of magic: “The use of magic has been an evolution as the series has gone on. It’s something we’ve been planning for a while because Solas has been planning all this for a while. In the past, you could hint at cooler magical things in the corner because you couldn’t actually go there, but now we actually can, and it’s fun to showcase that.” The Forest’s whimsy will starkly contrast to the game’s other areas. The devs promise some grim locations and even grimmer story moments because, without that contrast, everything falls flat. Corinne says it’s like a “thread of optimism” pulled through otherworldly chaos ravaging Thedas. At this point in the game, Bellara’s personality is that thread

We can advance our bonds with our companions on their own personal quests and by including them in our party on main quests. Every Relationship Level you rank up, shown on their character sheet, nets you a skill point to spend on them. “The choices you make, what you say to companions, how you help them, and more all matter to their development as characters and party members”. Each companion has access to 5 abilities.

Each companion has issues, problems, and personal quests to complete. “Bellara has her own story arc that runs parallel to and informs the story path you’re on” (They’ve said that all of the companions have this too in previous promo material)

You progress deeper into the forest and Bellara spots a floating fortress and thinks that the artifact needed to destroy the Veil Bubble is in there. To reach it, we must remove the floating rock rings, and Bellara’s unique ability, Tinker, can do just that by interacting with a piece of ancient elven technology nearby. Rook can acquire abilities like Tinker later to complete such tasks in instances where Bellara, for example, isn’t in the party

Bellara has to activate three of these in the Forest to reach the castle. Each one you activate brings forth a bunch of Sentinels, demons, and darkspawn to defeat

You can create Arcane Bombs on enemies. It does high damage after being hit by a heavy attack

It sounds like mage characters can charge heavy attacks on their magical staffs. “then switch to magical daggers in a second loadout accessed with a quick tap of down on the d-pad to unleash some quick attacks”

Some enemies are “Frenzied”, meaning that they hit harder, move faster, and have more health

After a few more combat sections, including against a Frenzied sentinel, we reach the center of the temple. In there is an artifact called the Nadas Dirthalen. Bellara knows that this means “the inevitability of knowledge”. Before we can progress, a darkspawn ogre boss attacks, hitting hard with unblockable, red-coded attacks and a massive shield that you need to take down first. It is weak to fire

After defeating it (it’s a climactic arena fight), Bellara uses a special crystal to power the artifact and remove it from the pedestal, which destroys the Veil Bubble. Then, the Nadas Dirthalen comes alive as an Archive Spirit, but because the crystal used to power it breaks, we learn little about this spirit before it disappears. Bellara thinks that she can fix it (fixing broken stuff is her thing), so the group heads back to the Veil Jumper camp. The writer’s demo then ended.

The design of the game is not open world. The devs describe it as a “hub-and-spoke” design where the needs of the story are served by the level design. A version of DA:I’s Crossroads return (the network of teleporting eluvians) and this is how players will traverse across northern Thedas. “Instead of a connected open world, players will travel from eluvian to eluvian to different stretches of this part of the continent”. e.g. Minrathous, tropical beaches, Arlathan Forest, “to grim and gothic areas and elsewhere”. Some of these areas are large and full of secrets and treasures. Others are smaller and more focused on linear storytelling. Arlathan Forest is an example of this, but it still has optional paths and offshoots to explore for loot, healing potion refreshes, and other things.

Each location has a minimap, though linear levels like In Entropy’s Grasp won’t have the 'fog of war' that disappears as you explore like in some of the game’s bigger locations

The game has the largest number of diverse biomes in DA history

The Thedas of DA:TV “lives in the uncertainty”. “the mystery of its narrative”, “the implications of its lore”

The writer is surprised by BioWare’s command over the notoriously difficult Frostbite engine, and by how much narrative thought the dev team poured into these characters, even for BioWare.

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[source: the Game Informer pages from Issue 367 - the cover story from June 18th (link), two]

[sgtgarricks]

begging kyle to do it raw :(

saw this tweet and thought to myself: how do i make this about kyle garrick? (afab!reader)

cw: nsfw, breeding kink!!!!, fingering, vaginal sex, uhh kyle garrick is a warning

reblogs are appreciated ♡

Kyle was, by a huge margin, the sweetest guy you have ever dated. He would always make time to text you a 'good morning' or 'good night' even when he was busy, had scheduled flower deliveries if he was going to be away for a while, and make sure you were always taken care of financially.

However, you found out recently he could have a little bit of a mean streak in bed.

His lips travel slowly from the column of your neck to your chest before finding your nipple. He licks tentatively while his hand travels south to your navel. You moan when his finger reaches your pussy, moving back and forth making squelching noises from how wet you are.

"Kyle, please.." You moan out, unable to take his teasing. Your fingers grip his strong arms as he breathes out.

"Mmm.. be patient, sweetheart. Let me play with this pretty little pussy first." He comes back up to pull you into a slow kiss, his tongue meeting yours. The way he kisses drives you insane, his tongue skillfully exploring your mouth. He groans when you try to kiss him rougher and slips a finger easily into your walls.

"Ah, fuck.." Your back arches as he slips his finger deeper into you, momentarily breaking the kiss as your eyes close. The moment you do, you feel a bite on the side of your neck and your eyes open in surprise.

"Don't look away from me. Look at me when I make a mess out of you." He leans back, giving you a perfect view to his finger that's thrusting in and out of your slick pussy as his other hand plays with your clit.

You feel your breath get heavier, eyes hazy, and mind cloudy from the immense pleasure you feel. You can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move like hawk as his cock begins to twitch.

His hand begins to move faster and you can hear the sound of your slickness as he fingers you. One of your hand goes to your nipple, fingers pinching and rubbing lightly. With your other, you grasp Kyle's leaky cock in your hand, squeezing him lightly as you begin to stroke him.

"Fuck, you're doing so well for me," His praise shoots straight to your core as you start squirming in bed. "You wanna cum, baby?" He doesn't falter in his pace, inserting another digit as your walls begin to clench on his fingers.

"Y-yeah, wanna cum so bad Kyle.."

"Mmm.. that right? You wanna cum on my fingers?" You nod, unable to speak. You feel pressure build as your heart begins to beat faster, you were so, so, close.

And then he stops.

You whine out in protest and stare at him in confusion. You feel the pressure subside as Kyle grins at you, stroking himself.

"The only thing you're cumming on is my cock, baby." You couldn't even protest, legs spreading immediately to accommodate him. He hums at your submission and strokes your thigh. You hear a plastic rip and you see him about to put a condom on. Using protection was a normal part of your sex life, but today, something in you didn't want the latex barrier between you and Kyle.

You sit up and grab the condom on his hand as he looks at you questioningly. One of his eyebrow raises and you feel heat rise to your cheeks.

"Can we.. not use the condom?" You ask shyly. He was motionless for a second, before his face morphs into a cocky grin.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you raw?" He inches his face closer to you, lips a breath away from touching. Nodding, you slowly take the condom away from his hand and throw it on the floor.

"Say it." He goads as he slowly pushes you back. "Say what you want me to do to you." He taps his cock on your clit a few times, dragging it over your slick folds and positioning it at your hole. You stay silent, hand over your face in embarrassment. He leans over you and pulls your hand away.

"I'm not gonna fuck you until you say it." He threatens. You huff out, pouting as you stare up at him.

"Kyle.." He only raises an eyebrow, continuing to thrust shallowly, the tip almost slipping in. The head of his cock rubs on your clit teasingly and you feel lightheaded. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me raw, want to feel all of you in me. Need you to feel you cum inside me." You plead, hand going to his neck and dragging his mouth down to you as his cock slips in your walls. He groans into your lips and begins rocking forwards, inching more of himself into you.

"So fucking good for me, telling me what you want." He's fully in you now, hips moving to pull out halfway before slamming in fully.

"Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you want. I'll fill you up nicely, keep all of me inside you until it takes, yeah?" He whispers breathily. Your legs cross between his back, pulling him closer every time he bottoms out.

"Y-yeah.. fill me up Kyle, want it so bad, want you so bad." You whimper when his tip hits the gooey spot inside you. With the way your bodies are pressed together, you feel every clench of his abdomen as he thrusts his leaky cock in you, the raw feel of him causing tingles up and down your spine.

"You're so fucking tight, how long have you wanted this huh?" His hand grabs both your cheeks as you can feel yourself start to drool a little. Tears fill your eyes at the immense pleasure Kyle is giving you.

Your walls clench to his rhythm, hips colliding against one another as he grunts with every thrust. The combined mess of your juices are spilling out of your hole, causing a wet mess on the bed.

You can only grunt out 'ah, ah, ah's as Kyle fucks you absolutely stupid. His dick is overwhelmingly thick, filling you like never before and the heat of him causes more pleasure to shoot through your body.

"You're gonna let me fuck you raw from now on, aren't you? Let me fill your sweet little pussy?" The logical part of your brain knows you should think about it more, but with every snap of his hips and the tip of his cock hitting your cervix you know you could never go back.

"Yeah, yeah. Gonna let you fuck me raw whenever you want," You nod, tears fully flowing from your face from the sheer pleasure. "Want you to cum inside me," Whining, you stick your tongue out, searching for his desperately.

He coos at you and relents, giving you what you want. Your tongue continues to explore his mouth when you feel his finger rub at your clit again.

"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?." He whispers, moving his finger in circles as your body begins to twitch.

"S-so close, Kyle. Please, let me cum." You beg, legs dangling uselessly behind him as he's basically folding you in half now.

"Been so good to me, go on. Cum for me." Instantly, you feel your core clench hard on his cock as your back arches. Your entire body tightens as your mouth opens despite no sound coming out. Your orgasm washes over you in pulses, legs still twitching as you come down from your high.

Kyle continues fucking you slowly through it, eyes staring at you in wonder. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and presses kisses to your face.

"Beautiful." He whispers on your skin, fucking you slowly but deeply still. You were still slowly coming down from your high, not knowing how long Kyle stays moving inside you. The wetness from your cum helps him move even easier now as he starts moving faster again. Putting your mouth to his ear, you begin to whisper in his ear.

"Cum in me Kyle, want to feel you dripping out of me," He groans at your words as his rhythm starts to become frantic and you know he's close.

"Oh fuck," He grinds deeply into you, moaning. You feel the hot spurts of his cum coat the inside of your walls, branding you from the inside as his.

You moan out at the feeling and pull him closer to your chest as his cock continues to twitch out every last drop of his cum. He huffs, breathing heavily for a few minutes.

When he starts to pull out, you feel globs of his cum begin to leak out of you when he grabs your hips and tilts them upwards, preventing anymore from leaking out. He flops down, using both his arms to prevent his full weight from crushing you.

You were running your hand through his hair slowly, feeling yourself start to drift off when Kyle speaks.

"Hope you know I was serious about fucking you raw from now on."

notes: blushing and losing consciousness as i finish writing this goodbye i am going to go on ao3 and scour kyle garrick tags

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist / warning: cancer

“Wait… I’m sorry, I… I think I misheard you…”

The doctor gives you a very kind, but very practiced smile and pats your hand gently. “It’s a brain tumor.”

Oh god. Oh my god. You’re going to throw up. White hot fear rockets up your spine, spreading through every nerve, vessel, piece of tissue like a crack of lightning, obliterating everything in its path.

A tumor. A brain tumor.

“Okay… uh,” you don’t know where to begin. What kind of questions do you ask? What happens next? “Do I… get surgery or something? What… what do I do?” She nods, pointing to something on the tablet screen, scans of your brain lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

She’s explaining something to you, something you don’t really understand, but you vaguely catch the end of it. “-to try to shrink it. The chemo will hopefully do that for us, and we can move to next steps.” Chemo. Chemo?

“Oh.”

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we’re going to do everything we can.” Everything we can?

She sends you home with a stack of papers, pamphlets, and more appointments than you could possibly remember.

Your empty apartment suddenly feels more sad, more morose than it ever has before, and for the hundredth time today, you think of Simon and Johnny.

Pathetically, you want to call them.

Maybe Simon would let Johnny come over. Maybe he’d let Johnny hold you.

Maybe Simon would even want to hold you too. You snort. Unlikely.

Instead of someone to lay with, be with, you slip fitfully into a restless sleep, buried in a pile of pillows.

Your days turn into Russian roulette.

You meet your oncologist, you start chemo. You take medical leave from work, considering you can’t do anything except go back and forth between appointments, and try not to think about the monster that’s living in your head, sucking you dry. Mornings roll into nights, and you become some sort of zombie, dragging your feet around the building, unable to eat, unable to sleep.

You can sometimes stomach soup though. Soup of all kinds, chicken noodle, ramen, tomato, you name it. It takes two weeks for you to get through your mostly broth diet before you’re forced out into the world to buy some more.

The grocery store is a nightmare. The lights are too bright, the people are too loud, and it’s freezing, even though most people are in shorts and short sleeves.

You’re bundled up. It’s a little ridiculous.

You take your time in the soup aisle with your basket, glancing over your options, trying to push down your nausea and figure out what you might feel like eating later. It’s a daunting task, considering what you threw up before you left the flat.

You fill your basket with as much as you think you might need, ignoring the throbbing in your head as much as possible, and round the corner to the frozen section, looking for some ice cream. Something sweet doesn’t sound so bad, you think. Maybe some mint chocolate, or cookies and cream.

You stand in front of the frosted doors, debating your options, oblivious to the world.

Oblivious until you hear someone calling your name.

When you turn your head, there’s a flash of a mohawk from the corner of your eye, and then Johnny is standing in front of you with his jaw dropped.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi?” He bleats. “Hi? Bonnie, ye… ye look-“

“Like shit?” You finish for him, unimpressed, and he shakes his head.

“No. Sick. Are ye alright?” Truly, you want to lie. Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to come home with you, cuddle you, help you.

You can’t though. You know you can’t.

Johnny’s heart doesn’t belong to you. Neither does Simon’s.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just tired.” His eyes narrow, your own heart bleeds. “Swear.” He shakes his head.

“Ye’re lying.” You’re about to tell him to mind his business, to tell him you’re not his business anymore, when his eyes go incredibly soft, and he steps closer. “If this is about what happened-“

“I don’t… I can’t do this.” You move away, backwards. “I just wanted to get some ice cream. I don’t want to do this with you.” You cast a mournful look at the freezers behind him, and then turn away, a barely there goodbye whispered over your shoulder.

[gyuswhore]

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

[hoshifighting]

hii lyla, can you do a smut reaction of them getting horny bc their s/o started massaging them?

e tbm, amo ler oq vc escreve pq me ajuda MUITO no inglês, beijos linda

Seventeen getting horny because you started massaging them.

a/n: que gracinha!! eu comecei assim!! fico feliz que te ajuda também 😭 🙏 um monte de beijoooos!

Seungcheol: lies on the bed, muscles aching from his recent workout. you decide to focus on his massive thighs, kneading the tight muscles with determined pressure. every groan you let out in effort sends a shiver down his spine. your hands inch closer to his groin, and he stiffens, feeling his cock start to harden. the combination of your groans and the proximity of your hands is too much.

suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping you with pleading eyes. “i... i can't take it anymore. please, i need you.”

Jeonghan: feels a rush of arousal the moment your hands touch his back. you’re straddling his hips, your fingers occasionally scratching his skin lightly with your nails. he bites his lip, fighting the urge to flip you over and take you right there. but he waits, knowing how you’d sulk if he didn’t let you finish the massage.

“are you okay?” you ask, noticing his tension.

he smirks, “just enjoying myself. keep going.”

Joshua: he regrets agreeing to the massage as soon as your hands start gliding over his back. he shivers, his breath coming out in shallow pants. you haven’t even gotten into the massage properly, and he’s already struggling to control himself.

“are you teasing me?” he groans, turning his head to look at you with heated eyes.

Junhui: has the self-control of a monk. he lies there, letting you finish the massage without a word. but the moment you’re done, he grabs your oiled hands, pulling you towards him.

“now, it’s my turn,” he whispers, positioning himself above you.

Hoshi: is rock hard the second your hands start massaging him. whether it’s his thighs, arms, shoulders, or back, it doesn’t matter. your touch has this effect on him. he doesn’t even let you finish, flipping you over in the middle of the massage.

“fuck! ah–! you never let me finish,” you sulk between moans.

he thrusts into you, grinning. “can’t help it. your hands drive me crazy.”

Wonwoo: he starts to doze off as you massage him, occasional groans escaping his lips. by the time you’re done, he’s turned onto his back, and you see the hard bulge straining against his shorts. he hisses slightly, his arousal almost painful.

“you really have that effect on me,” he murmurs, pulling you closer.

Woozi: he really tries to hide his arousal, using a cushion on his lap or his hands to cover himself. but you notice the change in his moans, the way they get louder and more desperate.

“is something wrong?” you ask innocently.

he blushes, looking away. “i... you just feel so good.”

Minghao: he is used to your massages. it's a comforting ritual in your relationship, one you both enjoy immensely. today, however, he’s feeling unusually horny and sensitive. your hands work expertly over his back, and he lets out a low, contented sigh.

“feels good?” you ask, smiling as you knead the knots from his muscles.

“yes, but today... it’s different,” he murmurs, shifting slightly.

you pause, sensing his arousal. “different how?”

he looks at you with a heated gaze. “i’m too horny. today is your day..."

Mingyu: he's cooking when you come up behind him, massaging his shoulders through his shirt. he lets the knife rest on the cutting board, placing his hands on the counter and closing his eyes.

“mmm, that feels nice,” he murmurs.

you feel him tense slightly and ask, “what happened?”

he lets out an embarrassed moan, saying shamefully, “i’m... hard.”

you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his hips and palming him through his shorts. “looks like you need another kind of massage.”

Seokmin: he loves your massages, always asking for one after practice. he usually falls asleep, but today is different. he just returned from tour, and when you offer a massage, he eagerly accepts. but instead of falling asleep, he feels the longing for your touch in a different way. his cock is rock hard, staining his white underwear with precum.

“for once, can we have a different kind of massage?” he asks, glancing at his erection.

Seungkwan: seungkwan got hurt playing badminton and is now listening to you scold him while you massage his thighs. your hands graze his cock occasionally, not intentionally, but enough to make him groan.

“you always push your limits,” you scold, “and now look at you.”

he shifts, his arousal evident. “you can keep scolding me if you want to, but could you ride me, please?”

Vernon: you find vernon working on his music, hunched over his macbook at the hotel desk. you decide to help him adjust his posture and start massaging his shoulders. he closes his eyes, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“you need a break,” you exclaim, kissing his cheek.

he nods, mouth slightly open. “yeah, i do.”

noticing the bulge in his sweatpants, you smirk. “how about a special break?”

Chan: chan is tense about his work, massaging his temples as he places his computer on the center table. he throws himself on the sofa, still and tense. your delicate hands suddenly start massaging his shoulders, and he spasms before melting into your touch.

“you’re so tense,” you murmur, working out the knots.

he nodded, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. the night turned into you giving him head, your hands and mouth working to help him finally relax.

[togumie]

“GONNA SHOW HIM YOU’RE MINE.”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + LOVE BITES. ft. togame jo, hayato suo, kaji ren, sakura haruka, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request: “Can I request for umemiya, sakura, suo, and kaji where they see reader with another guy friend and they get jealous because the guy is being flirty and obviously trying to make moves but reader is dense so then the boys give reader a hickey for the first time to show that reader is taken??”

mdni ! suggestive. 1.5K WC ; added togame ! :>

TOGAME JO. pet name ‘doll’ used!

“him again?”

you adjust the straps of your top before twisting and turning to get a better look at your outfit. “mhm,” you hum in response, “said he needed help asking someone out today. i’m gonna help pick the flowers.”

togame's eyes narrow a bit at the obvious intent of your friend. it didn’t help that you really didn't have a single clue in the world, and on top of your obliviousness— you're dressed so cute.

the combination was just a recipe for disaster, and he wants to finally put an end to it today.

“ah— what are you doing?” you yelp when he suddenly tugs at your wrist, pulling you off balance as you stumble and fall onto his lap. his arm comes to loop around your waist before you can even stabilize yourself, hugging you tight against his chest.

“togame, let go,” you whine, “i’m gonna be late!”

“don't wanna.”

the casualty of his tone makes your eyebrow twitch. he almost sounds bored with how slow the words come out of his mouth, and despite that fact, his arm doesn’t seem to budge at all when you try and push against him.

“plus…..” he’s choosing to ignore your efforts to move him— or he just doesn’t notice them in the first place, “you don’t need to meet with a guy like that anyway.”

“and why is that?” you retort, arms crossing in frustration as you give up and resort to simply glaring back at your boyfriend. "..are you jealous?"

"course i am, doll" he lulls, fingers pulling your top’s strap out of the way before his lips attach themselves to the side of your neck, sucking at the skin as you shiver. his hand tilts your jaw to the side, giving him the space he needs to better suckle and kiss your neck.

you can’t help the little noise that slips out when he releases the skin with a loud pop, exhaling deeply against you before peppering kisses beside the dark mark he's given you.

“can't stand when guys are tryna get at what's mine.”

HAYATO SUO.

“that friend of yours..” suo coos against the shell of your ear, “really likes you, doesn’t he?”

he's looming right over you, his familiar smile looking a little different today when his arms are caging you right beneath him, and you suck in a sharp breath when he leans down, tassel earrings tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“h-huh? he does?” your voice comes out a little breathless from the way his lips are just barely hovering over your skin.

“he does. you couldn't tell?”

in any other situation, he would think your innocence would be endearing. but after watching your friend get all close to you like that, holding your hair up and then fixing your necklace for you— he couldn't help it. a part of him is thankful for how steady his voice comes out, because you'd never be able to guess that just below his calm exterior- he was absolutely fuming with jealousy.

“no, i didn't know,” you whisper, “but you know i would've turned him down if he said anything-”

“i can help with that,” he interrupts, tone sweet and soothing. he plants a kiss just below your ear, his breath grazing your ear, and it sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“h-how?” you squeak.

you can feel him smile against you before his hand comes to tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him. “just like this,” he whispers before he's taking a sharp inhale, lips latching onto you as he sucks harshly.

the noise that comes out of you riles him up even more. he's sucking harder before he even realizes, calm demeanor crumbling just a bit when he hears the noises you’re making just for him.

you think you felt his teeth graze your neck for a second when he releases the skin, pulling back a bit to admire the mark he’s left on your neck.

"it's a good idea, right? turn your head the other way for me now."

KAJI REN. calls you ‘my girl.’

“w-what's wrong, kaji?” you manage to stammer between kisses, “you're a lot rougher today— something on your mind?”

he pulls back a bit when your hands tug at his hair, a part of him content when he sees the way your lips are slightly swollen, your mouth parted to catch your breath as your chest rises up and down from the intensity.

there was a lot on his mind, but marking you up was at the forefront of his brain. he could already tell that only kissing you just wasn’t gonna cut it after all that’s happened today.

“‘s fine,” he mutters before he’s back on top of you, his lips roughly latching onto the skin just beneath your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you gasp above him. “oh- t-that feels good,” your voice comes out as a breathy sigh, “are you… mad still?”

“mad at that friend of yours,” he growls against your skin, pressing a quick kiss onto the mark until he's moving onto another part of your neck, lips hovering just below your ear. “he was tryna get at my girl right in front of me.”

“i'm sure he wasn't— ah!” you gasp when his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you flush against his body as he tilts his head to better nestle into the crook of your neck.

“got me pissed off just seeing him looking at you like that,” his teeth graze against your skin when he sucks particularly hard, “gonna make sure he’ll get a nice and close look at these next time.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

kissing sakura is much, much different today.

he’s rough— hands trailing along your back, sending an shiver straight down your spine as he deepens the kiss, breaths mingling with urgency. the way he’s kissing you so desperately today has little gasps escaping your lips, which do nothing but encourage him to touch you more.

"f-fuck," he gasps between kisses, pulling back to inhale sharply before your fingers come to tangle in his hair, pulling him right back into you.

“someone's in a bad mood.” you giggle, and he scoffs in response, a dusting of pink over his cheeks. “‘m not mad.”

"you sure? what's got you so worked up?"

and he hates that he doesn't know. he doesn't know what this feeling is, so he has no idea how to get rid of it. all he knows is that it didn't feel nice when he saw your friend all up over you.

it should've been him instead— he thinks. and all he wants now is to have you.

your breath hitches in your throat when his lips begin to trace a path down your neck, pressing wet kisses between each inch of skin. “i don't know,” he admits through a deep blush, “just want…this.”

just thinking about the earlier events makes his blood boil again, and it shows in his next kiss. he accidentally sucks at your neck for a moment, and a lewd moan slips right through your lips.

your hand slaps over your mouth a moment too late, and he freezes in place, deep blush spreading to his ears at the sound. he’s never heard you never make that noise before.

"d-don't stop, sakura,” you urge, tugging at his hair, “feels good.”

he pulls back a bit to roughly shake his head, shake off the irritating blush before his eyes finally flicker towards the subtle mark he’s left on your skin. it’s a deep shade of purple, and something about it makes him feral— it scratches at the itch he’s had all day.

he doesn’t think he’ll be stopping anytime soon, at least.

“f-fine,” he growls, “turn your head.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

umemiya sighs when your phone buzzes again, the sound catching your attention as you scroll to check your messages again. you're leaning back against ume's chest when you open it, letting him rest his head on your shoulder with a dramatic pout.

"he's tryna steal you away from me," he whines, arms hugging tightly around your core. "s no fair."

how you were able to reduce bofurin's strongest— the one standing at a staggering 6’2 to a needy little puppy is beyond him. but in his defense, he thinks he's been waiting for your attention for ages by now.

it seems like the second you're finally putting down your phone to turn your attention to him is the exact moment your friend decides to send yet another message, your phone buzzing from the notification— and your attention shifts back to that guy just like that.

it's a never ending loop, and he's getting desperate.

“he's not, ume,” you mumble, fingers clicking at your screen. “he's just my friend. and he’s asking to get dinner with everyone tomorrow.”

you don't notice the way his bottom lip pokes out in a pout, eyes then narrowing into a glare directed at your screen before he's pulling you a bit closer to himself, arms holding you impossibly tighter against his chest.

it was really not fair.

it only takes a few more seconds of pouting before his eyes suddenly flicker to the bare skin of your neck, and he perks up when he thinks of an idea. a great idea.

“..you gonna go with them? tomorrow?”

you give him a nod, and if umemiya had a tail— it would be wagging now. his lips start to excitedly ghost over your skin, taking in the scent of your perfume, and his gaze is focused and intentional as he tries to gauge your reaction.

nothing, so far.

so he presses an experimental kiss onto your shoulder, eyes watching you closely— and still nothing. you only perk up a bit when he finally decides to proceed with his plan and takes the skin in his mouth, sucking at it for a bit before releasing it with a lewd pop.

"ume— d-did you just leave a mark?”

“i did,” he’s grinning now, staring at the mark he's left— and he thinks it's surprising dark for how gentle he was. it was only the first one tonight, after all.

“want another one?”

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP

✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them

✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗

✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗

reblogs are really appreciated! :D

RHYSAND

No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.

Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard

You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing

Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.

“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”

“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.

He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.

“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.

He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.

“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.

“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.

You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.

“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.

ERIS

Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.

He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet

Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.

“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.

After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.

He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.

The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.

Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.

It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.

Only after an hour of silence does he speak

“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”

He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”

You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”

The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.

Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you

“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”

CASSIAN

“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap

“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.

His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.

His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that

“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest

He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.

A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.

“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.

He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.

You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.

LUCIEN

There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two

One look between you two is enough.

Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.

“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.

“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.

“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.

“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”

“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.

“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”

“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.

“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.

AZRIEL

Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.

It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.

It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.

Azriel especially likes the fuck part.

He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy

He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once

Fucking torture is what it is honestly

“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”

“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”

He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.

His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly

Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.

“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone

In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.

He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗

[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤlike what you seeㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤflustering them by staring for too long ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanderer, heizou, xiao, ayato, childe ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( p.s. amai never proofreads)

"anonymous order; ...can i have the prompt 'screw you and your cute face' with wanderer, heizou, xiao, ayato, and childe ? — message cut."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤi just love the idea of flustering these guys ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthank you and hope u enjoy, xoxo ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

if you think the easiest way to fluster this man is by staring at him with that lovesick look in your eyes, then you're absolutely correct.

he could be minding his business and you'd take your place beside or in front of him, and after a few minutes he can just feel the way you stare at him. your eyes burn into his skin, but not in the way he'd grow uncomfortable under your gaze, instead, in the way he could feel his face heat up.

he would huff before looking up at you, about to nag you for staring, but he always finds his words locked in his throat when he locks eyes with you. archons, the way you look at him is always so hypnotizing, it makes him feel vulnerable in a way that he'll never admit he likes.

he tsks, "can't you go, i don't know even just a minute, without staring at me ?" he snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to hum and look away from him. no, no don't stop staring. i didn't tell you to stop. his eyebrows furrow.

you chuckled, "sorry sorry," you turn back to him, chin resting on your palm, "i can't help it when you're so handsome." and you just had to back that up with a grin. archons you were doing this on purpose !

as much as scaramouche tries to fight back the warmth in his chest and the shudder your voice sent through his body, the shaky breathe he let out betrayed him as he opted to look back to the textbook he was reviewing.

he stuttered, "w - whatever ! just stop staring so much." before burying his nose back into the textbook as you laughed at him. "i can try ~"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤshikanoin heizou !ㅤ

in your relationship, it's usually heizou doing the flustering. and he does a whole lot of that staring too, especially when you're busy and he happens to be bored out of his mind, but ironically enough it's his weakness too. especially like this . .

the two of you had a free afternoon ahead of you, and what better way to spend it than to wind down in a hot spring ? you stepped into the water first, beckoning heizou to join you.

he turned his back to you, rather shy to take off his shirt, and you happened to make him even shyer by whistling once he slipped his shirt off. he turned to you over his shoulder, a smirk on his shocked red face, only for you to return a cheeky grin as you leaned against the rocks of the spring.

he shook his head, choosing to retaliate by teasing further. "so, you like what you see ?" he turned to you, hands on his hips with confidence that you'll be the one turning red, only to watch your eyes look him up and down. "yeah, yeah i do." you hummed, closing your eyes, missing the way heizou's face burned up again.

he cleared his throat, now stepping into the spring and taking a seat beside you, trying his best to brush off your gaze on him. since when did you know how to look at him like that ? he leans back, relaxing in the warmth of the spring and closing his eyes.

"if i get to see this sight everytime i take you here, i might just buy this entire place for ourselves." you spoke, piquing heizou's attention as he opened his eyes to turn to you, and not even the heat of the spring could compare to the heat he felt on his face as he met your gaze.

he chuckled, embarrassed, "well, aren't you bold today ?" he tried to tease, scratching the back of his neck. "why, don't you like it ?" you joked, cupping his chin to make him look at you, earning a shy smile from him. "i do, i do like it actually."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalatus xiao !

being new to the concept of expressions and reactions to certain antics, xiao is easily flustered, though he is yet to realize it.

"is it a natural habit for you mortals to. . stare ?" he quizzed without looking at you, his eyes still closed as he savored the rich flavor of the almond tofu you had brought him. he opened one eye slowly and gazed at you you from the corner of it, perking up to the sound of you chuckling softly to yourself. "i suppose you can say that," you waved a hand in front of you.

"more like, it's natural for us to stare at something, or someone, we find interesting, puzzling, or alluring." xiao now fully turned to face you in curiosity, the bowl of half-eaten almond tofu set on the fencing of the balcony.

there was an emphasis on alluring, he mentally noted. was that intentional ?

"i see, so, which do i fall under ?" he asked, his gaze now fixated on you with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. you tilted your head at him, "what ?" "do you. . stare at me because i'm interesting, puzzling, or —" "alluring." you smiled at the way amber eyes seemed to widen for just a split second before they were replaced with the back view of messy sacramento green locks as the male turned away from you.

"i stare at you because you're alluring, xiao. very alluring, even." you hummed, leaning your elbow against the fence of the balcony and resting your chin on your palm ever so casually, watching and noting the way his shoulders tensed then relaxed.

he might consider being thankful that your view was locked on his back, hence you couldn't see the humiliating red he could feel his face burst into. he tried to clear his throat, his hand grabbing the bowl of almond tofu and spooning the rest into his mouth to distract himself.

"every part of you is alluring, even how red your ears are." and at your words, one of his hands reflexively came up to cover his ear, causing you to laugh out loud as the adeptus turned to glare at you lightly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤkamisato ayato !ㅤ

if this man thinks he's not easy to win over, he is funnily mistaken.

sure he's the smoother one with words, he knows all the right words and habits to adapt to make you swoon. but other than that, he's more vulnerable to your simple antics as he lets off.

"ayato," the way you'd say his name and drag on the last syllable, as if cooing at him, how he loves it. "ayato," the way your touch would linger on him even at the lightest taps, something so simple could tug his lips upward into a grin. "ayato !" a soft hit to the back of his head caused him to turn to you, finally.

"ah - good afternoon, darling." "i called your name three times ?" "ye. . yes, pardon me. i thought i was lost in my imagination again." he admitted as he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles gently.

you hummed, "and what was so engrossing about your imaginations this time ?" you questioned, taking a seat next to him while his hand rested on your waist, now leaning his head against yours. "you, i was just thinking about you." he hums, "you smell sweet."

and a few minutes of comfortable silence followed after, enveloping the two of you in a rare calming atmosphere, ayato's head was now laid in your lap as you stroked his hair softly. ayato then started to feel your gaze on him, by how familiar it was. he smiled, looking up at you.

"staring much ?" he teased, sharing laughter with you as you playfully messed with his bangs. "i can't help it, you're very pretty like this."

"only like this ?" ... "stop staring at me, darling, answer my question." ... "please ?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤchilde !

"childe."

now, you wholeheartedly think your boyfriend's eyes are pretty, regardless of how lifeless they are whenever he's not gazing at you like this.

"tartaglia."

but, at this moment, you can't help but find them a little bit irking. just a little bit. just a tad.

"ajax."

it's the third call of his name, yet he's still sitting there, chin on his palm and everything, with that smug smile on his face ! while you're here, trying to cook a full course meal, he's sitting there staring at you like you're the food.

but in his defense, is there a law against admiring your lover ? there better not be ! he's done nothing but sit there innocently, just drinking in your pretty face, because if he can't do it no one else can !

it's when you softly pinch his side—not enough to hurt, but enough to make him snap out of his daze—that he finally raises his hands up in surrender. "what, i can't ogle at my own darling lover anymore ?" he makes a show of jutting his bottom lip out in a pout, but you just huffed at his antics. "you can, if you would actually help me cook." "help as in ?" "cut some carrots maybe." "but i can't stare at you intently if i'm cutting something." "maybe that's the point."

ah, how you wound him.. kidding, a day without your attitude is a day incomplete for him. he fakes a sigh before standing up from his chair. he grabs a chopping board, a knife, and a few carrots, then gets to work.

it's a few minutes later that he feels your eyes on him, so from over his shoulder he turns to see you, in your seat with your cheek propped up against your fist, smiling at him. he grins, "now you're staring at me." "what, i can't ogle at my own boyfriend anymore ?"

he raises an eyebrow at the way you turned his words back onto him, but he laughs nonetheless before shaking his head and going back to work, assuming you would too.

you did not go back to work. he could still feel your eyes burning into his back. and he would never, ever—he would, out of the blue just to fluster you one day—admit that it was starting to shake his focus. his cuts were starting to get uneven as a result.

"are you going to keep staring at me ?" "is there a law against me admiring my handsome boyfriend ?"

alright, you win. just this once.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[bunnis-monsters]

Yandere vampire x chubby reader

A/N: this is a request for my 5K event! I am doing ALL requests I get within the next 24 hours, send one while you can!

“What did I tell you about leaving the manor grounds, my dear?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when your captor placed his arm around your plump waist, his face nuzzling its way into your neck.

“I-I just wanted something from the bakery… I heard they were selling my favorite pastry today…” you said in a half lie. While it was true that the bakery sold your favorite pastry, that’s not the reason you had been trying to leave.

You wanted to escape.

“Oh, my love…”

He purred against your throat, his fangs grazing your neck. “You should have told me… I could have sent one of my servants to fetch it for you. Tell me what you would like, and I’ll buy all of it for you…”

So now you sat in his arms, munching on your favorite pastry as he drank from your neck and fucked into you.

He was never quite able to drink from you without his cock sinking into your cunt, and he loved to watch you eat and enjoy food that he couldn’t. It was all suck a turn on for him.

You cute chubby cheeks full of food, your tummy growling when you were hungry… it made him remember when he was human himself.

He bounced you on his cock, his finger tracing over your belly. “My little angel… you need to stay right here, where you’re safe and well taken care of…”

——————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @sunset-214 @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y

[tojiswhore-aventurinesslut]

Aventurine and morning wood and you

He wakes up and looks over at the clock. It reads 6:20AM. 10 minutes before he needs to get up.

He exhales, running his fingers through his bangs, noticing the ache in his pants for the first time. He palms his erection, feeling the stiff morning wood with his free hand and lightly flexing his hips.

Tedious, he thinks. But it'll go away faster if he takes care of it.

"And I guess I have time." He mutters to himself.

He pulls his pants down just enough for his length to spring out, looking at the dot of precum on his pink tip.

He sighs and lets his head hit his pillow as he strokes himself.

His mind is already racing with all the things he has to do today: people he has to meet, paperwork he has to submit, calls he has to make. His most challenging task, though, is you. You have intel the IPC needs, and Aventurine has been tasked with getting it from you.

His grip tightens.

But no matter what he does, you elude him. You're immune to his well-timed compliments, his lavish gifts, his intimidation. It's like a game of cat and mouse but he's not sure who's who. He's never been so frustrated by someone in his life.

His pace picks up, sweat starting to dot his brow.

What would it take? How could he break you? Everyone has something, something that they desire or something they would do anything to avoid, and he was determined to find what yours was.

Cum leaks down his shaft, his breathing picking up in time with his slippery strokes.

He's never met someone who resists him so easily, who thwarts his every calculated move. As irritating as it is, he can't help but also be intrigued by you. It almost seemed as if you were the antithesis to his famed luck. He became an ordinary gambler in your presence, losing more often than winning. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the game a bit more this way.

He felt a familiar tightening in his core as he got closer to climaxing. His strokes growing sloppy.

But why you of all people? What made you special? Why was it in you that he met his match? Was it your subtle cunning and intelligence that let you see through his schemes? Your way with words that had him tripping over his own? Your confidence that overshadowed his intimidation? Your looks that had everyone turning their heads, including his?

His release came suddenly, coating his stomach and hand, a light grunt leaving his mouth. Thoughts of you continued playing through his mind as he came down from his orgasm.

He sighs as he feels himself soften, glancing over at the clock to see it reads 6:45AM.

Aventurine's eyes go wide and he scrambles to get out of bed, tripping over his lowered pants in the process and falling face first onto the floor.

"Damned woman isn't even here and she's already messing things up for me." He grumbles, rubbing his head.

He gets up with another sigh, pulling his pants with him and heads toward the shower, wondering what else you had in store for him today.

[wosoamazing]

Celiac

McFoord x Child!R

Warnings: Vomiting, Celiac Disease A/N: Doesn't really have a plot and I don't like the ending, only short but at least it's something

“Ma, I don’t feel good,” you told her as your stomach cramped, you were sitting beside her as you watched some of the girls train, your Ma having a quick break.

“Oh Munchkin, do you think you’re getting a bug?” you shook your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach tighter, “what have you eaten today?” you listed off everything you’d eaten that day. 

“Kyra, did you check the oats were gluten free?” your Ma asked the younger Australian, as you leaned your weight into your Ma’s side, stomach feeling worse by the second.

“Um, no, I thought they were, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise, I should’ve checked anyway just to make sure, I-” “It’s okay really, don’t worry, you didn’t do it on purpose and we know you tried your hardest, could you just tell Cait that Y/N/N is having an episode and to talk to Jonas, I’m just going to take her inside.” Your Ma asked the now guilty girl who nodded before quickly jogging off to your Mum.

-

“Hey Monkey, you not feeling well?” Your Mum spoke softly to you as she walked into the locker room, you just shook your head slightly in response to her, “Jonas said we were right to go home,” she told your Ma, from just a quick glance it was clear you were quite unwell. You were sitting in your Ma’s lap cured into a ball, her arms tightly wrapped around you, she rocked you slightly back and forth as she murmured comforting words to you, hating how there was nothing she could do to help you. 

“I think the oats Kyra used in the Anzac Biscuits she made for us all weren’t actually gluten free, she felt really bad but I told her not to worry and that it wasn’t her fault, do you want to have a shower and then I will and we can take her home?” Your Mum nodded before quickly heading to the shower.

-

“That’s it Monkey, let it all out, hopefully it will make you feel better,” your Mum encouraged you as you were hunched over the toilet in the bathroom, stomach harshly ejecting it’s contents, you sat in her lap and she held your hair back with one hand while the other rubbed soft circles into your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” your Mum told you as you collapsed back into her, curling into a ball, pressing your side against her front. Your stomach was super bloated but also intensely cramping and you felt really tired.

“Do you think we should try your tablets? Maybe the anti-sick ones first and then you muscle ones?” she asked as her hand carded through your hair.

“P-please,” your voice answered barely above a whisper.

“Okay, let's just stay here until Ma comes out of her shower, I’ll message her to bring them to us,” she murmured into the top of your head before kissing it.

_______

Your Mum’s were quite thankful for their now quiet day, not realising how much they both needed it. Thankfully the anti-nausea meds had worked and you had only thrown up once. Your muscle relaxers helped a bit but you were still in a lot of pain and your stomach was still cramping quite badly. When you arrived home your Mum’s took you into their room, where you almost immediately fell asleep on your Mum. You had moved in your sleep and now you were sleeping on top of your Ma, hand clutching the fabric of your Mum’s shirt to make sure she stayed. They had a movie playing in the background as they organised some things, in the middle of a discussion about the Olympics and whether you would go on camp with your Mum or go and watch some games with your Ma when the doorbell rang. Your Mum pried your hands off of her shirt and quickly got up to find a guilty looking Kyra on the other side of the door when she opened it.

“Kyra? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at training?” Your Mum questioned her.

“I feel really bad about y/n/n, Jonas let me go early, I bought some things for her,” she told your Mum as she presented the gift basket to her. 

“Thank you Kyra, that’s very kind of you, and honestly it’s not your fault, it was an accident, we understand.” Kyra nodded as she fiddled with the bottom of her hoodie, “you can see her if you want, she is currently asleep, and not very well, but I’m sure she won’t mind you coming to say hi,” the young Aussie nodded and followed your Mum through to where you were. You had woken up now, and Katie was helping you drink some water, you were still quite unwell, and looked like you were falling asleep sitting up.

“Monkey, Kyra came to see you,” your Mum told you as she walked into the room.

“Kyra?” you said groggily and she softly nodded her head, the younger girl stepped inside the room and sat down on the bed next to you, to which you climbed into her lap and fell asleep.

[clockwayswrites]

Part 2

Part 1

Danny & Cass, Cyan, Wind chime bells @wandixx

Cass placed the backpack down on the kitchen counter, unzipped it, and spread the opening purposefully.

Alfred looked from the bag to Cass, one pointed white brow raised. Keeping her eyes locked with Alfred, she took an apple from the fruit bowl and placed it inside the bag.

A moment later the brow lowered and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Ah, looking for a picnic, Miss Cassandra?”

Pleased he had gotten it, Cass nodded eagerly and held up two fingers.

“A picnic for two? Is one of your siblings joining you?” He asked.

Cass shook her head.

“Ah. Are you off to see a friend?”

Cass nodded and scooted the bag a little closer towards Alfred.

“Well then,” Alfred said after a beat, “any allergies your friend has?”

She took a moment to think about and then shook her head. She’d always seen Danny eat everything that either of them could get their hands on.

“And is your friend human?”

That was an odd question. Cass’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“You would not believe the things that both Master Richard and Master Jason got up to,” Alfred answered, looking like a man who had been long suffering.

Cass gave a little giggle, which softened Alfred’s expression.

“If you will give me a small time, I will put together a meal for you and your friend. Perhaps, while I do so, you would go and let Master Bruce know that you are going out.”

That seemed odd, but Cass figured it was part of being in a family now. They often liked to know where she was or tell each other when they were going somewhere not the manor or would be be back to the manor. It was still taking time for Cass to be used to all of these rules that weren’t rules.

Knocking she understood now, it was apparently polite and sneaking through the shadows was not. To that end, she knocked on the door to Bruce’s study and waited for the slightly distracted ‘come in’ to enter.

“Cass,” Bruce said with a smile when he looked up from his work. “How are you doing today, honey?”

Cass gave him a thumbs up as he turned on the tablet on his desk and spun it around for her. Her tongue stuck out just slightly as she looked for the right images.

🦢🫱🥪🎒 🏠🐦‍⬛➡️🌆

Bruce watched her put in the images. “Ah… Alfred is putting food in a bag for you and you’re going into the city?”

Cass nodded.

“Alright…,” Bruce said slowly. He tapped the edge of the tablet in a soft rhythm. “Thank you for letting me know. First off, do you have your phone with you?”

Cass pulled it out of her back pocket.

“Good. Do you remember what we talked about with the emergency button? How even if you don’t think you need the help, you should press it if there’s any trouble?”

Cass swiped over to the left screen and the large button on it before locking the phone again.

“Alright. Are you willing to wear an alert bracelet too?” Bruce asked and purposeful leaned back into his chair and forced himself to relax. “That way if your phone is taken or breaks you can still press the bracelet. It has a tracker in it, but we won’t use it unless we need to or you tell us too.”

It didn’t really mater to her, she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t trust them, so Cass gave a little shrug and help out her wrist.

Bruce gave an amused snort and opened up one of his drawers. “If you’re any example, daughters really are easier than sons.”

The bracelet, black of course, was a little snug, but it was low profile enough not to get in the way. Cass adjusted it just slightly before she was satisfied. She was confused though when Bruce stood.

He gave her a soft smile. “I’ll drive you into the city. I have some paperwork there I should get anyways.”

That was a little bit of a lie, but Cass decided not to call him on it and simple held out her hand for Bruce to take.

-

“You aren’t supposed to come out here anymore,” Danny said. He’s trying to look mad— arms crossed with a wide stance, but the way he looked at her from under his black bangs gave him away.

Cass patted the spot on the roof next to her. It’s one of their favorite spots to watch the sunset together. Not only was the view of the sunset over the waters amazing, but when there was a breeze they could hear all the bits of metal tied to the bridge next to them clink in the wind. It made Cass sad to think of Danny watching it up here alone now.

He gave an aggrieved sigh but took the indicated spot. Once he’s seated, Cass starts pulling out the food. There are bulging sandwiches, fresh fruit, salty chips, and best of all cookies.

“Wow,” Danny said. His hand twitched like he wanted to just reach out and start eating before the food disappeared.

Cass handed him a sandwich.

“You still shouldn’t be out here,” Danny protested, but the words were muffled by the large bite of food.

Cass just smiled and started on her own.

Part 3

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 

Labor of Love - Part II

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: zero smut, angst angst angst, mention of past trauma, expletives, pregnancy, contractions, heavily described labour, blood, mild physical violence, reader is really going through it, ralak is too but he'll be alright i promise, brother!neteyam makes a star appearance, cute family fluff, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 6.5k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hope you're enjoying your tour in angst town...we're almost finished. You could say we're nearing the final attraction, so continue to keep your seatbelts buckled. lol why am i like this? anyways... please don't hate me for this chapter, and i will try my best to get the next one out quicker so you guys can get some closure lool :)

Synopsis: You didn't plan for things to turn out this way. But no amount of denial can make reality go away...

<- Previous -> Next

And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished.  His karyu.

Time chips by at a torturous pace. You spend the first hour sitting on the beach, eating some fruit whilst watching what your brothers get up to. Neteyam, of course, is bearing most of the responsibility whilst Lo’ak and Tuk are taking a more easy approach to the day. Mom and dad made sure to leave them with a list of things to get done whilst they’re away—number one being to keep an eye on their sisters. 

Number one, check. 

All that floods your mind is your mate and if he’s okay. You try to process everything he’s said but it’s all too much to wrap your head around. All too new. Your brothers aren’t much help either, as they claim to be ‘out the loop’ as much as you are. You know it's bullshit, and probably just another thing that they’ve been ordered to keep from you so as not to ‘stress you out’. 

Regardless, it’s all you can think about. 

Until you feel your son do a flip in your womb, big enough to make you gasp. Your hands immediately fly to your belly, feeling around to gauge his position. A pressure begins to grow against your bladder. One so intense it presses into your tailbone too. The pads of your fingers sink into the skin, tapping around as you make out a leg, then a knee. A hand to the left. 

Is he…head down? You think to yourself. 

“Everything alright?” Neteyam asks, concern wrinkling his forehead.  

“Hm?” You look up, seeing the outline of his silhouette in front of the sun. 

“You okay? You’re…you look a little—”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. He’s moving a lot today.” You smile, catching Tuk excitedly running over in the corner of your eye. 

“Really? Can I feel? Please?” She squeals excitedly, falling to her knees in the sand next to you. 

“Of course, Tuk.” You smile, and place her hand on top of your stomach, right where his foot is. Only a few seconds pass by until your son gives Tuk a strong kick, making her mouth open with glee. 

“Wow! Tey, you gotta feel this!” Tuk exclaims, tugging your brother by the hand so he’s next to you too. Neteyam looks at you, unsure if you’re okay with it. You nod with a gentle smile, tugging his hand over to the other side of your stomach. His hand hovers as he hesitates for a moment, this is his first time feeling his nephew move. He gives you a final look, and gently rests his hand on your belly

A few moments pass and nothing. 

“Aww, he stopped moving.” Tuk sighs with a pout. 

“Patience, Tuk.” You whisper, feeling him kick on cue. Her face lights up with a beaming smile and Neteyam seems to be in awe with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. 

“Woah, y/n. Your tummy’s getting hard.” Tuk says innocently, looking at her brother to see if he feels it too. 

“Hm?” You hum, feeling a bit spaced out and achy.   

“It is.” Neteyam lets go and keeps his hands to himself, feeling like he’s invading your personal space. A heat floods your back, and you feel your thighs spasm. You begin to groan, holding your breath until the strange feeling subsides. “Hey. You okay?” 

You nod, finally release your breath, and hear Tuk’s excited voice. “It’s all soft now!” 

“All good.” You smile, but Neteyam doesn’t seem convinced at all. “Ronal says they are normal. They aren’t the real thing. Mom had them with Tuk, remember?” 

Neteyams' features soften as he nods, prying his little sister's hands off of you. “Ease up now, Tuk.” 

“Sorry, sis.” She says quietly, ears laying flat to her head. 

“Nothing to be sorry about.” You say as you roll to your side to get up, shamelessly using Neteyam to gain some momentum. “Think it’s time for me to take a walk, though.” 

“Yes, sure. Where are we going?” Neteyam asks, ready to accompany you anywhere.

“I’m going down to the rocks.” You emphasise on the first word, making it clear you need some alone time after being babysat all day. “I think Lo’ak needs some help with the net.”

Neteyam and Tuk look over to see their brother struggling with a tangled fishing net, and turn back to see that you’re already waddling down the beach. 

——

Suddenly, Ralak’s back inside of his family marui pod on his iknimaya night. Trapped. Small. Powerless. Cornered by a person he once looked up to. A person he trusted. Manipulated by her heat— her pheromones. A crime punishable by banishment. Forced to give, forced to receive. A betrayal he’ll never forget. A face he swore to himself that he would never see again. 

No wonder they ‘demanded’ his presence.

Tonowari and Ronal lose their colour when their eyes land on her. It’s been so many years. They quickly look over to Ralak, who is seemingly falling to pieces where he stands. The expression on his face is no short of pure shock and… terror. Truthfully, the last time they’d seen such an expression on his face was the deaths of his parents and spirit brother. Jake and Neytiri aren’t aware of what’s going on, but they know it must be serious for Ralak to be so…expressive. 

They can even see his shoulders heave from how hard he’s breathing, and how his face of terror quickly morphs into something of fury. Tonowari notices the way he tightens his grip on his weapon, and his eyes as they gloss over red with rage. It takes a lot to make this man blind with anger. Tonowari knows if he doesn't step in now that this could turn sour in the blink of an eye. 

——

Two.

Releasing a shaky exhale, you begin your walk back to your siblings. That was the second ‘practice’ contraction you’ve had since starting your walk, and your third since coming here with your brothers. Your waddle is becoming more sluggish with each step and the fire in your back is beginning to burn hotter rather than fade out. 

“Not now, little one.” You whisper as you caress your bump. “…please.” 

Weariness sets in as you make it halfway back, making you perch on your knees to take a break. The fire spreads from your back to your thighs, and up your stomach. You brace yourself for the tight feeling, holding your breath in the base of your chest. You grumble a little, swaying side to side until it passes, which thankfully doesn’t take more than a few seconds. 

Three.

Finally making it back to the beach, you see Neteyam and Lo’ak hauling a few sacks on their backs, with Tuk skipping behind them. You overhear Lo’ak trying to convince Neteyam to let him be with the other warriors, and Neteyam reminding him of your parents orders. They stop mid sentence when they hear your heavy, muffled footsteps, taking one look at you and knowing that something isn’t right. Lo’ak in particular, to your surprise. 

“Damn. You look exhausted.” Lo’ak says, earning a jab in the rib by Neteyams elbow. “What? She looks like she’s about to pass out.” 

“You can’t say that to a pregnant woman, skxawng [idiot].” Neteyam hisses.

“It’s fine. He’s not wrong.” You say, tail dragging low and heavy behind you. Ralak still clouds your mind, and you’re eager to know if he’s back yet. “I want to go home now. I really need to lie down.” 

Neteyam just nods, understanding that something deeper is going on. “I will take you.” 

“I got it, bro.” Lo’ak interjects, plunking the sack off his back and onto the ground.  

“Stay with Tuk.” Neteyam orders, clicking for his skimwing. 

“Why don’t you stay with Tuk?” Lo’ak snaps back. 

“Guys. Please?” You sigh, waddling towards the winged beast, throwing a leg over its tough back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Come ‘teyam.” Neteyam smirks, making the bond with the beast and mounting it in one swift move. 

As you arrive at your marui, you see Zu’té at the outside fire pit, concentrating on not burning yet another type of meat-on-a-stick. Hearing your arrival, Zu’té turns and acknowledges your presence. He puts down the sizzling meat on a leaf, allowing the fire to continue to burn as he begins to make his way over to collect you. Neteyam and him exchange glances and silent greetings, and suddenly the air is thick. 

“Right…I’m going up. Thank you, tey. See you.” You say out of breath, giving him a quick hug.

“Let me—” Neteyam begins.

“No, I’m okay.” You cut off your brother, hualing yourself off the tsurak. 

“Right. Kìyevame [see you again soon]. If you need me, send your watchdog.” He speaks clearly, holding you by the wrist to steady you as you get off. 

“I will, tey.” You chuckle lightly and make your way to the marui. Neteyam waits patiently, making sure you get in safely. 

Zu’té is only half way there when you reach the bottom step, already offering his arm for the stairs. You sigh and shake your head, hurriedly climbing the stairs as fast as your swollen ankles will allow it. For some reason, his gesture really annoys you. Your mood is off and you feel queasy and achy—like your entire body is throbbing. 

All you want is for everyone around you to stop babying you, and let you be alone for the rest of the day. 

“I got it.” Your voice strains as you wobble ahead, leaving Zu’té and your brother behind. Neteyam remains silent for some time, locking eyes with Zu’té. 

‘Keep a close eye.’ Neteyam signs with disquiet wrinkling his forehead. Zu’té gives him a puzzled look at first, but slowly nods when he successfully deciphers the message. Neteyam nods as well and dives underwater. 

By the time Zu’té gets to the bottom step, you’re already at the top, clutching onto the railing as you lean forward in pain. You couldn’t even make it into the pod without another hitting you so soon. You take a few deep breaths rather than holding it in, waiting until the tight feeling subsides. 

Four.

Zu’té darts up the stairs to your side, offering a hand in support only to be swatted away. “What is it?”

“It is nothing.” You catch your breath and insist that it was nothing—because it was nothing, right?

His brows furrow in disbelief, a look of concern washing over his face. Zu’té allows his eyes to fall to your bulging, veiny belly for the first time, taking in the sight. “You were in pain.”

“I’m fine.” You’re short with him, stony eyes staring into his.

“Someone once told me no good comes from pretending that things don’t hurt.” 

“Well nothing’s happening until my husband is back. Okay?” You try to remain nonchalant, to believe your own words. 

He simply stares down at you for a bit, analysing your facial expression. Despite your stone cold facade, he can easily  see the fear etched into your features. Fear that this baby may come before Ralaks return and that if you allow yourself to accept reality, then it may really come true. He glances down at your hand still stuck to the side of your stomach and swallows, looking back up to you. 

“Understood.” 

“Right. Now...” You huff, contemplating if you should say what you want to say. You feel like telling him to back off—to give you some space. But he’s obviously just making sure you’re okay. “...I need to lie down. Just, keep an eye out for—” 

“My brother? Sure. Rest well.” 

——

“Ay’ana.” 

The Olo’eyktan lets out a lengthy growl, earning a look from the traitor herself. 

“Waari.” She sings with a grin, shifting her leer to his mate behind him. “Ronal.” Her eyes fall to her swollen belly, “You are expecting…again.” 

It wasn’t a, ‘congratulations’ either, no. But rather a ‘I see that you are the most vulnerable.’

Ronal scowls, hissing through her teeth. Tonowari steps in front of his mate, blocking her from Ay’ana’s view. 

It was one thing to commit kawngkem [a crime; evil deed] and be banished for it, but it’s another to seek uturu with the enemy. She is no longer considered to be among the ‘banished’, but is now the ‘enemy’. 

Ay’ana looks behind Tonowari, not at Ronal, but at the two deeper skinned, slender na’vis. She scoffs, the corner of her mouth pulling into an evil smirk, revealing her sharpened teeth. Tonowaris eyes widen when he sees that she’s completely adapted to this vile peoples’ ways by putting a file to her teeth. Her eyes flick past them to the last person, the most important. 

“Ralak.” She slowly moans his name as she peers up at him with sultry eyes, allowing her tongue to glaze over her canines. “Such a pleasure.” Ralak winces, chest heaving violently as it fills with repulsion and loathing. “Ah. I remember you being quiet, but not this quiet. Nothing to say to your karyu?”

——

A couple hours have passed and the pain is enough to disrupt your rest. The sunlight dulls with each passing minute, casting a familiar orange hue into the marui. It comes in waves, rippling through you like a bolt of lightning striking the tallest tree in the forest. Making it hard to tell yourself that things are okay—making it hard to keep things quiet. 

“Agh!” You groan suddenly, feeling another jolt of electricity shoot up your spine. It stops you in your tracks, the tracks you’ve been burning into the floor with your constant, nervous pacing. You quiet down into a whisper, “...please wait for your sempu [daddy], my child.” 

“You—uhm.” You hear Zu’té clear his throat at the door, projecting his voice so that you can hear him through the curtain, “You alright in there?”

“Mmn—yes! Fine.” You grate out, making your way back to the bed to lie down. Your feet are so sore.

“Hungry?” He asks, food in hand in the case you were. 

“‘m not.” You try to speak up, but you’re still in the height of the contraction. 

He grits his teeth, leaning into the frame of the marui door. “I didn’t burn it this time.” 

You wish you could laugh, but you can’t even muster up the strength to raise your voice.

Zu’té lingers at the door quietly, knowing plain as day that you weren’t okay. “...what about water?” 

“No...I’ve got.” You say at a normal volume, finally released from the constraints of your pain. 

You begin closing your eyes in hopes that sleep may find you, even if it's just for a few minutes. Zu’té remains at the door for a moment longer, feeling so helpless and useless. He sinks back to the floor, putting down the meat and picking up a new, special piece to weave. 

Weaving passed the time, distracting him from the tiny sounds that managed to escape your mouth. 

Until night fell, and those tiny sounds morphed into deep, lengthy groans and high pitched wails. 

——

“Let us begin.” Tonowari speaks over Ay’ana, averting all attention back to their leader, another female that goes by the name of ‘Varang’. 

She’s almost grey in colour, embellished with a red headpiece that resembles something of an ikrans wings. Her eyes narrow as she looks straight at Tonowari, standing close to his height. 

“Let us.” She hisses with a smile, leading Tonowari to a smaller, private room sectioned by a leather curtain. She motions to Ay’ana to accompany her, leaving the rest of her men to stay with the others. Tonowari lets out a soft grunt, and grits his teeth. He knows he must choose, but his mate is heavy with child and Jake has no interest in leaving his mate in such a place alone. Therefore, he must choose his right hand—Ralak. He motions with a quick tilt of his head, prompting Ralak to clutch his weapon close to his chest and follow closely behind. 

——

“Y/n.” Zu’té’s at the curtain again, half considering to pull it back and come in on his own terms. But he would never invade your privacy like that. And by the sounds of it, things are picking up. “Do you need the healer?”

“No!” You shout out of breath, wobbling to the door with a hand clutching your stomach. You lean all your weight against the wall, knowing he’s on the other side waiting. “No healer.” 

You’re drenched in sweat, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. He hears your back slide against the surface, and he mirrors your movements, sitting on the floor too. Only a wall sits between your backs, separating you two. 

“You’re in labour.” Zu’té speaks, his poor attempt at urging you to face reality.

You know that. Of course you know that. But you don’t want it to be true—you didn’t expect it to happen this way—you didnt want it to happen this way. You take a few deep breaths, concentrating on breathing through the remainder of this horrible feeling. And when it’s finally over, you rest your head against the wall and close your eyes—leaving silence to fill the air. 

Where are you, Ralak? 

——

The room is much smaller than the one they were in, equipped with some sort of table or workbench with a few spears and bows mounted on the wall. Ralak stands quietly behind Tonowari, as does Ay’ana to Varang. 

As they negotiate the terms of the treaty, Ay’ana keeps her eyes locked onto Ralak with a smug look on her face. Her hungry eyes wander, shamelessly taking in every inch of the man before her, surprised by how much he has changed. He’s much bigger, more filled out in his warrior attire. His muscles—more defined, thicker. His skin—calloused and scarred. Inked, unlike before.

And as her eyes trail down the line between his abs they lay upon the six stripes that peak out over the band of his loincloth. Her eyes widen and glisten with greed before darting back up to his face, meeting his eyes that bore into her fearlessly. 

What’s worse is that she can see that his mind is elsewhere. 

That his mind runs on you. You’re all he’s been thinking about since he stepped off the reef. He feels deep in his heart that something isn’t right back home. That you need him. That perhaps, you’re calling for him right now, swollen and heavy with his child. 

And it bothers her. 

“It is decided, then.” Tonowari speaks in a confident tone.

“Yes, it is.” Varang’s smile is uncanny as she unsheaths a small, double edged knife from her hip. 

She grabs Tonowari by the hand, placing the blade in the middle of his palm, and closes his fingers around it. She rips it from his hand, drawing blood, and then hands Tonowari the knife and gives him her hand. He returns the unsettling act, slitting her palm. She keeps a smile on her face, locking hands with him until their blood combines and drips to their feet. 

Supposedly, it is a method of establishing some level of trust between the two. Where each has the ability to do much greater harm, but makes the deliberate choice not to. Then, when blood has been drawn, it is mixed by bringing the hands together, sealing the treaty. 

“Bound by blood.” Varang whispers, letting go of his hand to bring hers to her mouth for a taste. 

She sighs and smiles, popping a thumb in her mouth before gesturing to him that they leave. Tonowari fights the flinch on his face, disturbed by her behaviour. Ay’ana stays back, watching the two leaders exit the room. But as Ralak is about to leave behind Tonowari, Ay’ana calls for him. 

——

Another couple agonising hours pass, and you’re constantly changing positions in hopes of finding some relief. Desperation sets in, making you beg the great mother herself to guide you through this. To bring your mate back home. But there’s still no sign of his return. The night dew settles on all the surfaces around you. Pacing no longer helps, leaving you to take refuge in your bed, panting and shivering. 

No matter how much you twist and turn, your stomach only tightens more. Deep groans rip past your lips to cope with the feeling—the pain shooting through your core. Beads of sweat roll off your body at an alarming rate, soaking the sheets on your bed. You feel him move further down, his head now sitting plush in your pelvis, creating an immense pressure that’s almost unbearable. His feet press into your ribs, and with each strained breath you begin to yearn for your mate more and more. For his comforting touch. For the bond.  

“Ralak…” 

——

“Ralak.” She sings, making him stop dead in his tracks. “A word.” 

His ears tuck back and he looks at Tonowari, who gives him a begrudged nod. Ralak sighs and turns around, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face. He remains silent, his hand practically bonded to his spear. 

“Still tight lipped, hm? Come now, tak. That is no way to treat your karyu.” She speaks in a condescending tone, approaching him warily. 

Ralak nearly takes the bait, a heat growing in his chest so hot it makes his jaw tense. How dare she call herself that? To taint such a word? He swallows, taking a single, deep breath to recenter himself as he looks away from her. 

“I have to admit.” She steps towards him, the crown of her head meeting the bow of his shoulder. “You have grown into a fine man. You are taller than me now.”  

Ralak just looks down at her, still as stone, his mind consumed with the fact that he could be on his way home to you but this…vile creature is keeping him away. But he will do what he needs to keep you safe, even if it means to tolerate this for the time being. 

With no reaction, Ay’ana grows frustrated and begins circling him, a single finger tracing around his body. 

“You know…My body still yearns for you.” She speaks with a sultry voice, stopping at his side and bringing herself to the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear, “...especially when I’m in heat.”

For a second, Ralak succumbs to her tactics, the ones she used to use on him years ago. A memory, forcibly resurfaced, reminding him of the way she whispered in his ear on that night. It makes him feel so small. Impotent. But only for a second. Ralak recoils, stepping back to create distance between them. He towers over her, dwarfing this small, lanky woman, regaining his confidence and power. 

“Is that all?” He growls, looking her dead in the eye—facing his past with no fear. 

Facing the reason why he lived in a bottle before he met you. You. You. He can feel you. He can feel you yearn for him and he’s ready to come home to you. For this to be over. 

He’s too focused on you to even notice Ay’ana’s face of shock. Shock to know that she’s been releasing her pheromones this entire time and he’s been completely oblivious to them. Which only means one thing. 

“You’re mated.” She gasps. 

And he’s back. 

Staring at a mirror now that he is, too, in a state of shock. Ralak’s heart leaps out his chest, beating so hard that Ay’ana can hear it. How could she know that? He watches as a grin spreads across her face, ear to ear. She knows she’s got him now, despite the jealousy bubbling inside her. She could use this to her advantage—it didn’t matter to her that he’s called for, after all. 

“Using tsaheylu for such useless things.” She bellows a wicked laugh, which fades out when she sees an even more serious look on his face. A look that tells her he’s trying to mask something more, something deeper. “Oh? Is there more to it?” The twitch of his brows and quick flare to his nostrils reveals the truth. “I have to know. What is it, hm?” She nears him once more, two fingers walking up his chest. “Come now, you were never this hard to read.” 

Ralak remains silent, focusing on slowing his heart rate. 

“Is she ill?” She asks as she searches his eyes, fingers grazing across his quivering jawbone. “No, no. It’s not that.” She sighs, stepping closer and closer until his back hits the wall. He moves his head away from her touch, still looking her in the eye—refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Her eyes light up and her ears stand tall.

“She carries your child, doesn’t she?” Her eyes gloss over green with envy. “Pregnant.”

Ralak swallows his spit, the lump in the column of his throat quickly undulating. 

“There it is. I knew you would make strong babies.” Her hand slips down his chest, slithering over his abs and down to the twine of his loincloth, causing him to jolt. “Ralak.” She moans his name slowly, “Oh, Ralak. The last I see of you, you were barely covered in this vile ink with no one at your side…and now you are mated and a father to be.” Her fingers tickle the raised skin on his most intimate tattoo. “I have always longed to be bred by you.” Her fingers attempt to burrow themselves under the band of his loincloth.

“Enough.” He lets out a deep growl, shoving her away, dropping his weapon in doing so. She loses and quickly regains her balance in a few seconds, throwing herself on him. He grabs her by the wrists, restraining her with ease so that she can’t come any closer to him. 

“Perhaps we need to renegotiate the terms so that you are a part of them, yes?” Her voice is full of desperation, trembling as she strains against him. “How does that sound numeyu? You know we have a population problem, right? We could all use you.”

“I have no interest in being your stud.” Ralak spits, forcefully shoving her away, causing her to stumble back and for her head to hit the table. 

He moves quickly, picking up his spear off the ground and heading for the door. She lunges at him, dagger unsheathed from her hip and armed in her hand, whilst her other arm snakes around his throat to pull him onto the ground. 

During the struggle, Ralak drags her off his back, resulting in a nasty gash from his collarbone and down his shoulder blade. He hisses from the burn, instantly assuming an offensive stance to plunge his spear through. Ay’ana returns the hiss, crouching with her bloodied dagger ready to strike.  

“I will kill you.” Ralak threatens, nearing the pointed tip closer and closer to her chest. “And I will take great joy in doing so.”  

“Is that right?” Ay’ana hisses, tail wagging in excitement with unsettling smile spread across her face. She looks as if she’s toying with him. As if she’s playing a game and she’s winning. “Let me have a taste of you.” 

“Nìtam! [Enough!]” Tonowari roars as he yanks back the curtain, instantly averting Ay’ana’s attention to him. Perhaps it was her roots calling her to respond to her true leader. Varang appears beside him with a scowl stained on her face, displeased with her subordinate. One more move and the treaty would’ve already been broken. 

“Easy, Tak.” Tonowari murmurs, and Ralak relaxes into position next to him, blood trickling down his chest and back. 

“Come with me.” Varang snarls at Ay’ana, seizing her by the queue.

“Night has fallen. We will take our leave.” Tonowari speaks roughly, trying his hardest to contain his anger as he rests a careful hand resting on Ralak—leading him out the room.

“In another ten years, Olo’eyktan.”

Tonowari grunts as he and the rest push past the swarming ash people. As soon as they’re far enough, he stops Ralak and has Ronal safely look at his wound. It’s weeping and open, prone to a nasty infection if not dressed immediately. She unclasps her medicine pouch from her hip, and retrieves a small bottle of iridescent liquid, a viscous concoction of herbs, and a needle and thread.

“Come, son.” Tonowari speaks softly, ripping the cork from the small bottle with his back teeth and spitting it on the ground. “That vonvä’.”

Ralak sits on the nearest rock, elbows propped on his knees and head hung low to hide his face. Jake and Neytiri observe in silence, cringing as Tonowari douses the gash with the liquid as Ronal prepares the needle and thread. 

Ralak groans, biting down tooth on tooth. 

Tonowari leaves a little left in the bottle, offering it to Ralak who is visibly trying to keep it together. He plucks the bottle from Tonowari’s hand and knocks it back, puffing out a sigh. 

“Keep still.” Ronal orders, driving the wooden needle through his skin. 

Ralak grumbles, letting his head hang between his knees and his hair fall forward. At this point Neytiri looks away, but Jake can’t. His eyes are plastered to the scene unfolding before him as he recognizes his son-in-law’s strength and perseverance. 

“That should hold until we are back.” She declares, gathering her supplies and stuffing them back into her pouch. 

“Irayo [thank you], Ronal.”

“You’re strong, boy.” Jake mumbles, patting Ralaks back as he gets up. “Anyone care to explain what the hell happened back there?” 

Ralak just shakes his head, leaving Tonowari to speak for him. “I will explain on the way back. You all have someone waiting for you.”

Ralak’s ears spring up at the thought of you, giving him a burst of energy to spring to his feet, gather his gear and lead the trek himself. The women walk behind him, concerned about his wound. Tonowari and Jake are left at the back, sharing a look before they begin their journey. 

——

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant, looking down at your trembling hands that sink into the bed through double vision. You sway from side to side, trying to take steady, deep breaths, but the pressure between your legs is starting to make you panic. The possibility that you may have to do this alone is quickly becoming a reality. 

Zu’té is the one doing the pacing now, unable to sit still in his spot for much longer. He has long abandoned his woven pieces, burning lines into the patio floor as he walks back and forth outside—conflicted on his next move. 

He doesn’t want to go against your wishes and call a healer without you requesting it. But he must keep his word to Ralak—to keep you safe—which means calling for a healer. He chews on the toughened skin on his thumb, listening to your continuous whimpers and whines. By the sounds of it, you’re in active labour now, ready to give birth at any moment. 

——

A few hours have passed since they started the trek back home. Everyone has fallen into new positions that work for them. Ralak, eager to be at his pregnant mate’s side, leads the pack, clearing the path for the others. Jake and Neytiri stay not too far behind him, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings. Tonowari and Ronal are far at the back, linked together as she trudges on despite her extreme weariness.

“Let us take another break.” Tonowari speaks quietly to his mate, hand on her stomach. They share a look, speaking to one another with their eyes. She doesn’t want to hold up the group much more than she already has. 

“No. We are almost there—ugh!” Ronal lets out a sudden groan, clutching her stomach as she doubles over. 

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, turning around with wide eyes. Tonowari supports her, and carefully walks her over to a nearby fallen log, lowering her down onto it. She takes a few deep breaths as Neytiri and Jake rush over to her. 

“Is it time?” Neytiri asks, crouching down next to her. Ronal nods once, completely in tune with her body and aware of exactly what’s happening.

Which is why she insisted they continue, or else she won’t make it back in time. Ralak watches at a distance, his face contorting with sheer worry. No, borderline distress. He looks almost mortified, but not for the reasons that one may think. They all know why, it's obvious. If Ronal is in labour,

…that means you probably are too.  

“Go ahead.” Ronal pants, beads beginning to form at her temple. 

But Ralak doesn’t move. He can’t move. He’s at conflict with himself. An internal battle of knowing that he should stay and help, even though he really wants to go—needs to go. 

“We got it, son. Go to her.” Jake huffs as he helps Tonowari lift Ronal to carry her. “Go on!” He shouts, prompting Ralak to look to his father figure for approval, to which he meets him with a quick nod before averting his attention back to his labouring mate. And with Neytiri’s soft smile of reassurance, Ralak takes a few steps back before turning his heel and booking it home. 

——

“Haah…holy fuck—holy fuck.” You moan, feeling another contraction start up and the pressure between your legs intensify. 

This one has you on your hands and knees, clutching the bed head so hard your nails dig into the wood. It’s undeniable now. This baby is coming whether you like it or not. And as the contraction reaches its peak, you scream. 

“Zu’té!” It pains you to cry out for his name and not your mates. Hearing your call—your permission to enter—he finally bursts through the door and rushes to your side. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” He’s out of breath and on edge.

“I think—oh god—I think the baby’s coming!” You cry out, swooping your hand between your legs to try and feel what’s happening. 

“Shit. Like now? Like right now?” Zu’té panics as he watches you, hands hovering around you, unsure of what to do. 

“I d-don’t know! I—I don’t—I want Ralak! Fuck, fuck. I want lak!” You cry out in sheer agony. “I want my mate. I-I need him!” 

“Y/n. Eywa.” Desperation is potent in his voice now. 

The fact that you’re calling out for his brother means the time has come and he feels like a fool to have let this get this far without stepping in. He swallows and takes a breath to calm down, just as your contraction ends and leaves you sobbing on your knees. 

“I’m getting the healer.” He says firmly, turning his heel to leave but you grab his wrist before he can walk away. 

“No! Don’t leave…Please don’t leave me alone.” You beg, fear glossing over your eyes until it spills onto your cheeks once more. He looks at you with furrowed brows, lamenting for you. Now he’s really conflicted, because this means…it’s him or no one. 

“Ah, shit. Shit. Uhm.” He rakes his fingers through his scalp, thinking about his next move. He’s seriously considering going regardless, able to see the situation for what it is.

“Please, Zu’té.” You plead weakly, slowly lowering yourself onto your behind and off your knees, leaning back into the bedhead. 

“Okay, okay.” He nods and you let go of his wrist, immediately using your hand to support your stomach. You let your eyes close, they’re swollen and heavy. “Uh–right, right.” 

For some reason he can’t stop repeating himself twice. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping grounded. He heads straight for the bucket of water and rag to bring it over to you. He dips the rag into the water, and wrings it out. You barely open your eyes at the sound of the bucket making contact with the floor, and see that he’s nearing you with a damp cloth and raised brows. He’s waiting for your go ahead. 

“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse and trembling. 

Zu’té begins to wipe away the sweat that’s dripping in your eyes, your forehead, neck and chest. Dipping the rag back into the water, he wrings it out once more and wipes down your shoulders and arms. You can’t help but sit there and close your eyes, allowing him to do it all, exhausted.

Feeling something press against your lips, you open your eyes in a daze. Zu’té holds a cup of water to your mouth, and you drink ardently, gasping for air and closing your eyes when it’s emptied. Sleep calls to you, taking you as you barely manage to mutter out a weak, “...thank you.” 

Zu’té calculates another five minutes before your next contraction, giving him enough time to fetch a fresh pail of water—something absolutely necessary for the birth. He leaves you sat up against the bedhead, rag on your forehead as you sleep. But not even three minutes go by before he hears your languid moan. 

Abandoning the bucket, he rushes back into the marui, finding you standing and holding onto the marui stilt with one hand as the other tugs at the strap of your top. Seeing you try to undress has him stopping in his tracks and turning his head to look away. 

“Y/n—”

“Ughhaa—” You grunt, untethering the knot of your top. Your body is trying to get comfortable for the birth of your son now, and these pieces of cloth feel suffocating. “Get out!”

With that, Zu’té turns and retreats back to the patio, hands on his head as he begins to make his plan. If he flew on his skimwing, he could make it to the village and back with a healer in about ten minutes. But would that be enough time? What if you didn’t have ten minutes? Your pained groan turns into a howl and it makes his ears twitch. 

By the sound of that, you might not even have five minutes. 

“Come on, baby brother. Don’t make me do this. Please. Don’t make me go back in there. Oh shit—I’m going to have to go back in there, aren’t I? Eywa. Eywa. Okay—It’s okay. I can do this. Childbirth. It’s just childbirth. Right? Right.” 

Zu’té tries to convince himself that he’s capable of this despite this not being what he signed up for. 

“Okay, Toto. Just do it. Go in there.” Zu’té sounds breathless as he speaks to himself, turning around to face the door. He hears your whimper and his jaw tightens. “Shit. Okay. Right.”

Just as he raises his hand to pull back the curtain, he hears a winded voice. 

“Brother.”

[russo-woso]

Jealous girl || Alessia Russo

Warning smut 18+, strap on, fingering, squirting, cunnilingus, breeding kink, face sitting, orgasm denial, dom!alessia, sub!reader

If you were being honest, you wanted the night to end how it did.

From the moment you woke up, Alessia had been teasing you.

In fact, before you even woke up.

Alessia decided she was going to make it fun for herself today.

Waking you up, she pressed gently kisses along your neck, before beginning to suck on a part of your neck where she knew you loved.

You let out a muffled moan into the pillow as your senses awoke.

“Less…” You attempted to tell her something but when she whispered a shh to you, you knew that Alessia was in one of her, as you’d always put it, one of her teenage boy moods.

“Relax, baby.” Alessia whispered, her tongue soothing the fast forming red mark on your upper neck.

Moving to tower over you, Alessia connected her lips to your revealed collarbone, nipping and sucking at your delicate skin.

You placed a hand in her hair, pushing her head more into your skin, desperately not wanting her to stop.

Whilst focusing on your lower neck and collarbone, Alessia’s hand travelled down your body, lifting the oversized T-shirt up your torso.

You whined as her fingers connected with your clit, feeling the pleasure you’d wanted.

“Lessi, please don’t tease.” You whispered, a pleading look in your eyes, as Alessia circled her fingers at an agonising pace.

“I’m not teasing, pretty girl.” Alessia told you, clearly lying.

“Please go faster.” You begged

You were close to doing the job yourself but you knew the punishment that would go with it.

“On my face.” Alessia said, gesturing for you to sit on her face.

As you switched to the new position, she took your top off completely, admiring your clothes less body before guiding you onto her face.

“Less, fuck.” You cried as Alessia’s tongue ran through your folds.

“You taste so good, baby.” Alessia mumbled, causing a moan to escape your mouth.

You gripped onto the headboard as Alessia’s mouth roped round your clit, pleasure coursing through you.

You started rolling your hips against her tongue to match her pace.

“Less - fuck - you’re gonna make me cum.” You managed to say between ragged moans and cries.

Alessia’s tongue continued to move against your clit, giving you the perfect amount of pleasure.

Your movements died down as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your longing orgasm so when Alessia grabbed your ass, helping you to move against her, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum. Less, oh god-” You started saying but was cut off by Alessia promptly lifting you off her face.

You have her the most angry look you’d ever given her.

“What a shame, baby, look at the time. Jonas wanted us at the stadium for ten. We best start getting ready.” Alessia pointed out, a smirk clearly evident on her face.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, pretty girl.”

———————

After a well deserved win against Brighton, the season was over and although you’d finished third in the league, everyone was happy.

You had been eager all day to get back home to finish what you’d started this morning.

The moments shared with Alessia was on your mind constantly throughout the match.

What didn’t help was Alessia made it so difficult to make you forget.

Every chance she got to tease you, she took.

When she scored, she picked you up curing her celebration, squeezing your ass, before whispering, ‘I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.’

Her confidence and randomness shocked you but you pushed, attempted to push, it to the side.

During the regular lap around the field, thanking the fans, you felt Alessia’s hand wrap around your waist, guiding you to the tunnel.

“Less, what—” you begin to ask but was quickly cut off by Alessia shushing you.

“—You’ll see, baby.”

Alessia dragged you to the changing rooms, pushing you against the wall.

“You looked so fucking hot with the new kit.” Alessia told you, before placing her lips on your jaw.

Her hands had a hard grip on your hips, allowing barely any movement.

A whine left your mouth as she sucked at your pulse point, Alessia growing more harsher the more noise that left it.

“Less… please.” You mumbled, trying to focus on speaking but it was hard to when the feeling off Alessia’s mouth was on your neck.

You didn’t know what you pleading for. You didn’t know if you wanted her to continue. You didn’t know if you wanted her to stop.

“Hmm, I think we best stop, don’t you? Don’t want any of the girls walking in do we?” Less pulled away, wiping her thumb over her mouth to break away a string of saliva.

“I really hate you. I really do.” You stated, barging past her and to your cubby.

That’s what lead you to getting revenge.

Going out that night with the team meant that you got to dress up and look your best.

Perfecting your hair and makeup for hours, and picking out the perfect outfit, meant that you could get the bestest revenge on Alessia.

The night started well, you were sat next to Alessia, cuddled up in the corner, making conversation with some of the other girls.

As the drinks started to kick in, some of them decided to head to the dance floor.

You decided to join them too, wanting to make the night memorable and fun.

To begin with, the dancing was harmless, you were dancing with some of your best friends with a massive smile on your face, and Alessia was loving it too. She loved seeing you happy so she was more than enjoying seeing you dancing.

But her smile dropped once she saw a man approaching you.

Your smile turned to a grin once he started speaking to you.

Unknowingly to Alessia, you had a grin on your face because you wanted this to happen, this was your revenge.

Alessia watched on, you and the mystery man dancing as one of his hands rested on your hips, where hers should be.

“Someone’s got your girl, Russo.” A thick Irish accent was heard across the table and for once, Katie was scared by Alessia, the face full of anger would have managed to scare anyone away.

Just as the song finished, you turned to face your teammates but before your eyes could get to them, they were stuck on a very angry looking Alessia.

“Hi, baby.” You smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

You noticed the confusion on the guys face and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Let’s go.” Alessia commanded, taking your hand in hers and practically pulling you out the bar.

“Less…” you began, not knowing her emotions.

"You're mine, pretty girl. No one else." Alessia began, leading you to the car.

"I know, but-"

"-No buts. You know better." Alessia cut you off, flagging down a taxi, opening the car door, allowing you to get in.

The rest of the way home was silent, the tension slowly building up.

Once Alessia had paid the driver, you entered your house, Alessia immediately pressing you against the hallway wall.

"Be a good girl for me and strip and wait on the bed for me. I'm gonna show you that you're mine."

And with that, you walked ran up the stairs, stripping as soon as you got to the room, leaving you in the red set of lingerie, Alessia's favourite.

You'd put it on when getting ready, hopeful that Alessia would actually get to see it.

“You look gorgeous.” Alessia told you as she walked into the room.

“All for you, lessi.”

“All for me, huh?” Alessia questioned and you nodded.

She approached closer and closer until you could feel her breath on your neck.

“You let somebody else touch you, and nobody touches you. Only I get to touch you.” Alessia repeated similar words from earlier.

“Only you touch me.” You confirmed, looking wide eyed at her, your eyes secretly begging her to do something.

“Good.”

With that, Alessia connected her lips to your neck, sucking the life out of it.

Your hands found her back, trying their hardest to take her shirt off.

Eventually, she pulled away from your neck, allowing you to pull her shirt over her head.

At the same time, her hands wrapped around your back, I clipping your bra, before placing her lips on your hardened nipple.

“That feels good.” You hummed as her tongue swirled around it.

You felt Alessia’s hands work their way down your body, her finger looping round the side of your underwear, pulling them off.

“Less, please no teasing.” You begged and Alessia nodded.

“No teasing, pretty girl. I promise.” Alessia said against your stomach, placing a kiss there and lowering herself.

“Please hurry up.” You whined and Alessia tutted in response.

“Desperate are we?”

“I’ve been waiting all day, baby. Please do—” You began but was cut off by a cry leaving your mouth due to Alessia’s tongue flattening itself across your folds.

“That feel good?” Alessia asked into your pussy, vibrations coursing through you.

“Yes, lessi, so good.” You breathed out, your breath already erratic.

Alessia continued to flick at your clit endlessly, pushing you closer and closer.

“Please don’t stop, baby.”

Your hand was in Alessia’s hair, pushing it more into your pussy.

“Never.”

You knew Alessia was going to let you cum, she was also just as desperate. She wanted to watch you fall apart and know that it was because of her.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop. Please.” You rambled, not really caring what you were saying. “I’m coming. Fuck, less.”

Alessia gently sucked at your clit, allowing you to ride out your high.

“You taste so good.” Alessia shamelessly moaned into your pussy as she licked your juices. “Stay here, baby.” Alessia commanded, leaving you to catch your breath as she walked to your closet and reached for the box at the top, pulling out the biggest strap you owned.

You felt yourself drip even more at the thought of it in you.

“On your knees.” Alessia stated, helping you onto your hands and knees. “Good girl.”

You let out a muffled moan at the praise, as you buried your face in the bed, awaiting for what was about to happen.

Alessia rested a hand on your back, her thumb rubbing over it, whilst she guided the tip in.

With ease, the strap entered you and Alessia continued to thrust in until her hips met you.

“That’s it, good girl.” Alessia said, grabbing your hips.

You let out a cry as Alessia pulled out and thrusted back in.

After a few slow thrusts, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please go faster, baby.”

To your surprise, Alessia actually listened and sped her movements, causing pleasure to run through your body.

“Fuck, baby, you look so perfect.” Alessia told you, as you moaned uncontrollably into the duvet.

A loud smack was heard as a bright red mark appeared on your ass.

Alessia grabbed it and massaged it whilst thrusting in and out of you.

“Fuck, you feel so good, less. I’m gonna cum.”

“I’m gonna cum too, pretty girl. Gonna fill you with my cum and make you a mummy. God, you’d be such a pretty mummy. Gonna be pregnant with my baby. Mine. Not his. Not anyone else’s. Mine.” Alessia rambled, her eyes closed at the thought.

“Let me have your baby, less. Cum in me, please.”

“I will, baby.”

Lifting a leg on to the bed, Alessia pounded into you harder and faster, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

Without warning, clear liquid shot out your pussy, soaking Alessia’s abdomen and the duvet.

Your moans were muffled as your arms gave way and your face buried in the duvet.

“Fuck, pretty girl, I love it when you squirt.” Alessia said, rubbing your back as she slowed her movements to not overstimulate you.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, tired, as Alessia helped you into a comfortable position.

“You were amazing, baby.” Alessia gently kissed your head after you rested it on her chest.

“I mean, I’ve been waiting all day.” You told her. “I even purposefully let a man touch me so I could cum.”

“Naughty girl.” Alessia tutted, a small smirk on her face as she realised your plan. “You’re mine though, no one else’s.”

“I’m yours, lessi. No one else’s.” You told her, melting into her.

“Good.”

“My jealous girl.”

[mclarengf]

orange / lime comfort fic with max pls stressed reader pls ty cuz i wanna die

thinking about... max verstappen looking after stressed reader during finals season

a/n: projecting my finals stress onto reader rn. why do all my max blurbs end w them falling asleep he just looks like a sleepy guy idk also i think tumblr cuts out like the last paragraph and a bit of this on mobile so sorryyy? no idea how to fix it x

---

max’s breath hitches as he lays eyes on you.  then he lets out a soft sigh when he takes in the state of the room you’re in. 

there are textbooks everywhere, notepaper flung about, coloured sticky notes dot the wall. 

you, sat in the middle of the mess, have your headphones on, furiously scribbling down something from your laptop. 

“baby,” max calls. there’s no reply from you.

he carefully steps over the spread of paper and makes his way over to you. you’ve still not clocked the other presence in the room yet.

he lays a hand on your shoulders gently, and you finally lift your head to look at him.

“hey,” you blink up at him, wide-eyed, “sorry about the mess, i’ll clean it up after i’ve finished this lecture, i promise.”

he presses a kiss to your hair.

“that’s alright. you don’t have to rush.”

you lean into his touch, breathing in his scent.

“missed you.”

max knows you’ve been studying non-stop for the last few days he’s been gone. from what he remembers, the test you’ve got coming up is worth 20% of your grade, and you need a 90% pass to continue your studies into next year.

you had, however, taken a break to watch his race, sending him a picture of the tv accompanied by a message of ‘gl today! thinking of youuuuu.’ he had been grateful for that.

“have you taken a break yet, schatje?”

you frown, trying to remember how long ago you’d gotten up to refill your water bottle.

“maybe a couple of hours ago? i’m not sure.”

he takes your hand in his. 

“come to bed with me,” he pulls you up, helping you to your feet, “i’m so tired right now; i just want my love with me.”

you offer him a smile.

“okay, but only for a bit, alright?” you look back over your workspace, “i’ve gotta cram what i can before my exam. you know how important this is for me.”

he waves you off, leading the way to your shared bedroom.

“baby, you have time. just stay with me for now.”

you’re going to ace your exam, he knows. you’re the smartest person in his life, and the most hardworking too. taking a little time off today can’t hurt too much.

you hum as he lets go of you to take his travelling clothes off.

when you’re both stripped down to your underwear, he hops under the covers and holds his arms open for you.

“thirty minutes, max,” you point at him warningly.

“yes, yes, okay,” he spreads his arms wider, “now come in, schat, i’m getting cold!”

you crawl up next to him and tuck yourself in his embrace, inhaling in his smell and holding him closer to you.

“i missed you,” you say.

he kisses the back of your head.

“i missed you too. i always do, you know that.”

[auteurdelabre]

So Much to Lose Part 13 : Family Dinner

words: 7.5k

story rating: 18+

tags: emotional, sexual tension, idiots in love

a/n: two days ahead of schedule! I had to add another chapter in before 'coffee flavored kisses' chapter so it makes dramaturgically (please get that reference). I hope you enjoy, its one of my favorite scenes I've written for this story.

masterlist

Chapter 13: Family Dinner

"Are you even listening to me?"

You glance over your shoulder to where Jennifer leans against your counter. She's wearing a purple sweater dress today, her own creation. She's holding a coffee and giving you a small smirk.  

"Sorry, what?"

"You're distracted today," Jennifer muses.

The two of you are in your kitchen this morning, the early morning sun shining through your windows. It melted a lot of the snow, allowing bits of green to poke through. 

Jennifer saw you returning from the market with all the baking supplies you'd need. She'd commented that she wished she could bake as well as you and so of course you'd offered to teach her. 

She is so willing to spend her time teaching you to shoot, to take care of you, of course you wanted to pay her back in some small way. But ever since she crossed the threshold this morning with two coffees in hand chattering away about the town meeting you've felt this deep pit in your stomach.

Why did he do that? Why did you let him? Why did you want him to do more? You certainly hadn’t shied from his touch; you’d begged him to make you come right there. Your cheeks flame at the memory, thinking back to that evening.

You’d given Jennifer some bullshit excuse about a headache after she found you moments after you staggered out of the closet. Then you’d jogged home, your heart racing as quickly as your mind.

"Just haven't made a cake in a long time," you lie, turning away from her as you mix the batter. "Guess I'm just super focused on it."

The truth is you're completely distracted today. You have been ever since the town meeting with Joel's hand down your pants and his voice in your ear commanding you to come. You're ashamed to admit that since that night you've been bringing yourself off to the memory. 

Are you actually attracted to asshole? Or is it just that he makes the world feel safe? That he can make your brain turn off and make it all go quiet? 

There's also a humiliation there. "You think I didn't hear you on patrols?" 

You force the thought from your mind. You don't need to think about that right now. You turn your attention back to your friend who is mixing her own chocolate batter. 

"I was asking why you're making a cake of all things?" Jennifer says, frowning at the lumpy contents of her bowl. "You making it for Luke?"

She says it in a singsong voice, grinning toothily at you. 

"No," you say with a smirk. "Just making it for practice." 

Luke is another fly in the ointment as it were. While Joel's personality is abrasive at best, Luke is tender and sweet and patient. When he talks to you he really seems like he cares to know your opinion. Unlike a certain Mister Miller.

"Maybe I'll give this one to Joel," Jennifer muses, as if reading your thoughts. "They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach after all."

You give her a weak smile. 

While you're ashamed that Joel's treatment of you is turning you on more than you want to admit, you're more ashamed that the woman in front of you is supposed to be your friend, your best friend, and you're keeping this all from her. 

It wouldn't matter as much if she didn't like Joel. You could excuse your lack of sharing on being a private person. But you know that Jennifer likes Joel and keeping this from her is dishonest. But you're also a coward because you can't find the words to tell her.

"How was shooting practice with Luke?"

"Good," you tell her honestly, feeling a blush overtake your cheeks. "I shot four cans from a pretty fair distance."

"That's amazing!" Jennifer wraps you in a hug from behind. "See I knew you just needed a little practice!"

You grin shyly, feeling pleased and pretty damn proud of yourself.

"So did you like being with Luke alone?" Jennifer says casually as you set the temperature on the stove. There's something about the way she says it that gives you pause. 

When you look up she's grinning into her bowl, a sneaky little grin just for herself. The answer is there before you even ask the question. 

"You planned that?" 

You stare at her open-mouthed. Jennifer shrugs at you, as if she is not the most devious person in the room. 

"I mean I did need to help with textiles but I didn't need to miss practice." She winks at you. "And I may just get called away at the last minute next week too." 

"Jennifer!"

The two of you dissolve into laughter, the rest of the morning bathed in shades of pink. Jennifer has that uncanny ability to bring color into every room.  

A short while later you remove the dual cakes from the oven, praising Jennifer on hers. With your coaching her cake is going to be edible (which is more than you can say for her past baking ventures). 

"Okay these need to cool before we ice them."

"Good, its lunch let's go get something."

You follow her out your front door, both of you pulling on your jackets as Jennifer chats on about how the textile group has needed her for the occasional shift. 

"I don't mind though," she says tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder. "I love seeing all the fabric." 

You wish that you could listen to Jennifer, to give all of your attention to her. But it's just not possible at this point, your mind is elsewhere. 

It's back in that room with Joel. 

Tommy and Maria are eating when you and Jennifer arrive to the dining hall. They wave you over with a smile and the two of you bring your trays to their table, joining them. 

Maria is wearing Douglas across her chest and he is milk drunk, passed out and grunting slightly in his sleep. 

"Hi you two."

Maria looks exhausted with dark hollows under her eyes. But she smiles anyway, kissing Douglas's forehead and turning to you. 

"How have you been?"

"Good how about you?"

"Tired," she smiles weakly. "Oh, I meant to ask if there was any chance you'd be willing to make some more flowers for us? I don't mean to be selfish but I'd just love Douglas to have some bright yellow ones in his room."

"Of course!" You're delighted that you can do something to help your friend. "I'd love to, I'll work on it this weekend." 

Maria gives your upper arm a gentle squeeze of thanks, whispering to Douglas that the nice lady was going to make his room beautiful. 

"Seems we're all gonna be working hard this weekend," Tommy muses over his coffee. "Gotta start getting some of the holiday stuff out of storage at our place."

You wrinkle your nose in surprise. 

"Christmas isn't for over a month."

"Yeah but it takes a lot to put on a holiday party for the town," Tommy says through a bite of salad as if you should know this already. 

"Tommy this'll be her first one," Maria reminds him. 

"Oh shit that's right," Tommy nods just as Jennifer retakes her place across from you. Tommy motions to her with his fork.

"Jenny knows all about it."

"What do I know all about?"

"The yearly holiday party."

Jennifer immediately grins enthusiastically.

"My favorite event of the year. The whole town comes out, everyone brings food, there's a band, dancing, booze, presents... It's always so much fun and goes until the next morning usually."

"We decorate the big barn by the stables," Tommy continues and you see the genuine joy in his eyes, like thirty years have been stripped away and he's just a sweet, boy on Christmas morning. "It's a big job, but with enough volunteers it goes pretty smooth." 

"We'll help you," Jennifer says out of nowhere before looking at you. "Right?"

The thing you love most about Jennifer is also the thing that drives you the most insane. She's always wanting to help people, and that would be fine if she didn't try to rope you in with her. 

Even if you didn't want to volunteer there's no possible way that you can say no now. Tommy is glancing over at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrows, Maria matching him. 

"Yeah of course. What do you need done?"

"Well we got music, set up and tear down taken care of, that's usually the hard stuff," Tommy says, rubbing his beard absently as he looks off in the middle distance. Then he snaps, remembering. "How about decorations?"

"Sure," Jennifer nods. "I love decorating, plus I worked in textiles so I have access to fabric and stuff." 

"Great," Tommy says looking overjoyed. "Joel'll be happy to have the help."

"Joel?""

Both you and Jennifer blurt the name out at the same time, though for very different reasons. 

"Yeah Joel is in charge of cutting down and decorating the tree this year. Guy who normally does it broke his leg last week." 

"Decorating a tree doesn't really sound like a three person job," you reason, pushing your carrot stick around your plate. 

"You haven't seen how big the tree is," Tommy grins. "Joel's gonna get a big one, at least twelve feet. Plus there's hanging the lights around the barn and all that stuff."

"Leave it to us, Tommy." 

Jennifer is fucking beaming as she goes back to her lunch, Maria and Tommy are exchanging smiles, but all you can do is hold in the nerves that begin in your stomach. 

Tommy and Maria depart shortly thereafter with the latter giving you a squeeze to your shoulder before she leaves. 

"I can't believe it, more chances to be alone with Joel," Jennifer giggles.

"I'll be sure to give you two a lot of alone time," you snark. "Take a page from your book."

The last thing you want is to be witness to more of them flirting, especially when thoughts of Joel have you feeling so churned up.

Jennifer laughs, about to reply to you when you both hear her name being called. An older woman with spiky grey hair is standing by the entrance to the hall and signalling for Jennifer to come over. Jennifer groans, muttering under her breath so only you can hear. 

"I know that look. She needs help with something at the shop,” Jennifer rolls her eyes as she stands. "Any chance you could ice my cake? I'll pick it up later if that's okay?"

"Uh, I might be out for a walk," you say hurriedly. "How about I just bring it over to you later?"

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"You're a peach!" Jennifer gives your hand a squeeze before excusing herself to join the woman standing expectantly at the dining room doors. 

You watch after your friend, musing that it’s so like Jennifer to want to help everyone. But now that you know why she keeps her days so busy your heart aches for her. How can you think of being attracted to Joel when you know your friend likes him? A friend that's done so much for you. 

Joel Miller isn't worth this anxiety or stress. It's not like he even enjoys your company. You're fairly certain he just gets off on ordering you around. You need to push him from your mind. 

You'll go to dinner tonight, you'll do patrols with him, but you'll keep it professional. You are going to help Jennifer get with Joel. The decision is made. It's the least you can do for a woman who has been through so much. 

Your name is called, breaking you from your thoughts. You glance over your shoulder to see Arthur and Penny headed in your direction with trays. 

"I thought that was you," Arthur says with a grin. "Mind if we join you?" 

"Please do."

The two of them sit shoulder to shoulder across from you. They fold their hands, muttering a quiet prayer for grace and then start digging in. You watch them, amused at how mis-matched a pair they are.

"So whaddya you do around here sweet pea?" Penny asks through a bite of toast. Up this close you notice her front left tooth is cracked. 

"I do patrols," you say. She curls her lip at you, perplexed. 

"Whassat?"

"It's when groups of us that take turns going outside the walls to make sure infected and Raiders don't get in or do damage to the dam." You pause hoping you've explained it decently. "

Penny gives a low whistle. "Dayum, that seems like an awful job. I'd rather clean up garbage any day." 

“It's pretty much just been carrying a gun and riding a horse so far for me."

And mutual pleasure from my nemesis.

"I don't envy ya," Penny says shaking her head and dropping back to her lunch. 

You don't know what to say to that. You watch them eat for a moment, intending on leaving them to it when Arthur starts talking.  

"I wanted to ask you, when did you want to get together for the portrait? I'd love to get back into it and I know I promised you, so I've set up my table by the window and Maria's given me some paper and pencils." 

"She did? That's great." 

You haven't been by to see Maria since the meeting and her anxious looking face keeps floating back into your mind. You know that she must be feeling overwhelmed with everything on top of Douglas. 

"She's a sweet lady," Penny observes. "Gotta bad case a' baby blues though."

You stiffen.

"Why do you say that?"

"Could see it the second I met her," Penny says absently drinking her tea. Her large eyes scan the room, obviously still nervous at the crowds. "Mothers know these things." 

"You have children?"

You don't miss the look of anguish that touches both their features. Before she speaks you know what she'll say.

"Used to."

Arthur is somber when Penny goes quiet, as if behind his pale eyes, his mind is concocting images of the face of the nameless child. Feeling guilty and uncomfortable you want to change the topic, your brain clinging the first thing that comes to your mind. Which happens to be the previous topic. 

"Arthur, I know I asked you about portraits, but I'm actually wondering if I could trade in that favor for a different one."

Arthur shoots you a watery grin.

"Lay it on me." 

///

You take a look at yourself in the mirror over your dresser that evening. It's faded, warped from age and damp. But it does the job and it reflects your tired eyes and your simple clothing. 

You blink at yourself before pulling on a new crimson-colored sweater, one of several that Jennifer gave you a few weeks ago claiming they would go wonderfully with your skin tone. 

You don't know why you're so nervous as you head to Rancher Street with the cake in your hands. You've been invited for dinner, it's sure to be a pleasant night. The cake wobbles in your nervous grip, the frosting gleaming in the fading sunlight. 

When the house comes into view you see Joel sail by in the window, going from one end to the other, reading something. His gaze is fixed, his head tilted to the page. From here you see his strong profile, the curve of his nose, and the pout of his lips. 

Fuck. Don't think about his lips. 

You swallow nervously as you make your way up the creaking porch steps. You take a full moment to stare at the door, looking at the chipped paint and the swept porch deck. 

It's just a dinner. Ellie will be there. I'll be fine. 

You knock gingerly with your free hand, shifting from one foot to the next as you hear footsteps approach. 

Joel opens the door sharply, brows furrowed before he realizes it's you. His dark eyes widen slightly, scanning you and the cake. Immediately your heart begins to pound in your chest, your cheeks heating the longer his eyes linger on your face. 

He's dressed as he always is, flannel and jeans. His hair is tousled, as if he's been running his fingers through it. You look at Joel's wool socks, strangely fascinated. They're a deep grey, worn and thick, they're so human. He stares at you, looking confused and a little surprised. 

"Can I help you?" 

His voice comes rumbling from his chest, deep and measured. You can't stop looking at his neck, noticing the sharp of his jaw, the fullness of his mouth. It has you feeling strangely distracted. 

You lick your lips nervously, inhaling quietly when his gaze drops to your mouth and then back again.

"Uh... I'm here for dinner," you say breathlessly. "I brought the cake." 

He peers at you, confusion clear in his expression. 

"Dinner?"

"Uh, yeah..." Your neck is starting to heat because Joel is crossing his arms over his chest, tilting slightly against the door frame and he doesn't look like he has any idea of what you're talking about. 

"Didn't you invite me to dinner tonight?" 

He shakes his head slowly. 

"But Ellie sa-" you start before slamming your lips together as realization belatedly dawns in your features. 

Ellie wanted you for dinner. Ellie realized that you'd never stay if you thought Joel didn't expressly invite you.

Ellie played you. 

"I'm sorry, I think there's been a misunderstanding," you say, feeling humiliated as Joel continues to stand there staring at you. 

You thrust the cake towards him, your eyes on the ground. 

"I made this for Ellie," you tell his socks. "Could you just give it to her?" 

Joel takes the cake from you, his fingertips trailing over yours as he does. You swallow again, feeling the little bolts of lightning that start at his touch. You watch as Joel quietly prepares to close the door, his eyes now on the ground. 

You hear the twist of the knob and can only make a little scoffing noise in the back of your throat. What had you been thinking? Had you really been so stupid as to think Joel Miller invited you over for dinner when he can barely stand you? 

"Hey," he begins, but you're already starting to move down the porch, humiliation coming off of you in waves. 

You both hear your name and your head jerks up to see Ellie coming up the walkway to the house, her arms laden down with bags. She sees you at the door and smiles broadly before she sees you heading away from the porch. 

"Where are you going?"

"Ellie, I don't really know why I'm here." 

Ellie's immediately deflates, her good spirits dimmed. 

"I wanted you to have dinner with us."

It's impossibly sweet of Ellie to want to spend time with you, but is Joel a necessary part of the equation? 

"Why did you tell me Joel invited me to join you both for dinner?"

"Because I knew if I didn't you wouldn't come."

Ellie's gaze sails away from you and over to Joel who stands with his shoulder against the doorway, arms crossed and brow raised. He looks unimpressed with the pair of you. Ellie gives a grunt, heading towards him with a frown. 

"I invited her for dinner."

"Without askin' me first."

"Last time I checked it's my house too." Ellie shifts the bags in her hands. "I brought dinner and she brought dessert."

"Fine by me. I'll give you two some space." 

Joel goes to retrieve his jacket from the hook by the door but Ellie makes a disapproving noise. 

"No, you have to stay too."

Joel gives an exasperated roll of his eyes. 

"Ellie what is this?"

Ellie looks like she's halfway between a cry and a shout. She doesn't answer until he reaches for his jacket again. 

"It's my fucking birthday, okay?"

Joel goes still, his large eyes looking at her with confusion. A quiet moment passes between the two of them. 

"Your birthday?"

"Yes."

There's a lot of confusion now on your end. The way they act you'd assumed they must have known each other for most of Ellie's life. But that can't be the case if her birthday is such a shock to him.

"I didn't know."

"Obviously. Now will you stop being a grumpy asshole so my friend can have dinner with us?"

Joel looks appropriately admonished, a hand sliding to the back of his pinking neck. He's about to speak but you cut in. 

"Ellie this is a family thing," you try to appeal. "Here, take the cake and you two enjoy."

You go to hand her the cake but she shakes her head resolutely as she moves around Joel. 

"Both of you."

With that she disappears inside leaving you and Joel on the porch in tense silence. He sighs quietly before shifting his eyes to your face. 

"C'mon in then, I guess." 

You follow the two of them into the kitchen, citing that you need to put the cake in the fridge just in case. It's been a long time since you made butter cream icing and you don't want it melting.

You set it amongst the array of vegetables and water bottles inside the ice box. Ellie grabs some plates and utensils while Joel stands watching you both.  

"Grab the lemonade man," Ellie calls over her shoulder at him. You follow her into the other room, watching as she sets the table and indicates for you to take the nearest chair. 

“Joel look what they're serving tonight!" Ellie laughs, holding up the huge plate full of ravioli from the dining hall. Joel gives a droll chuckle. 

"My favorite."

Joel and Ellie exchange a secret smile, but not one that feels exclusionary. More just sweet to witness. Ellie scoops the pasta onto the plates and Joel fills up the glasses and the three of you take your seats and start eating.

You focus all your attention on the ravioli on your plate, taking small nibbles as your stomach is roiling. 

You feel eyes on the side of your face and glance over to see Joel's eyes skimming back to his plate. He looks so sullen, his jaw clenching with every bite. Your eyes drift to the other side of the table to see Ellie. She's eating her pasta with gusto but you can see the defeated look in her face.

Some birthday dinner this turned out to be. 

Joel sits on one end of the table looking uncomfortable, Ellie sits on the other end totally oblivious and you're in the middle of both with your eyes stuck on your dinner. You need to break this silence.

"So how old are you turning?"

"Fifteen," Ellie replies through a mouthful of ravioli. 

"Same age I was when everything happened," you muse. 

"Really?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Maybe that's why we get along so well. I haven't matured past fifteen."

You think you hear a small huff of amusement from Joel's direction but that might just be wishful thinking. The three of you eat your pasta in comfortable silence before Ellie turns her attention on you.

"Were you shooting yesterday? I thought I saw you and that tall guy."

Joel's attention drifts to you; you can feel it boring into the side of your face. 

"Yeah," you answer quietly. "Our friend Je-“ you catch yourself, "our other friend had to work. Normally it’s the three of us.”

“Are you any good?”

“I’m better than when I started,” you smile, motioning to Joel with your fork. “But you can ask Joel, that’s not saying much.”

You dart a glance to see Joel smirking into his dinner. Ellie laughs through a mouthful of ravioli, before she shines her attention over your way. 

“Did you hear about that party next month? Tommy was talking about it today.”

Who could forget the holiday party? The continued forced proximity with a man you just can’t quite figure out.

“My friend volunteered us for decorating,” you say, ignoring the way Joel’s motions still out the corner of your eye. “So I guess we better show up. Plus I’ve never been to one before so I’m curious.”

“We never had shit back like this in the QZ,” Ellie tilts back in her chair. “Closest we got is a pair of socks wrapped up with a bow. Fucking pathetic.”

“Language.”

Ellie rolls her eyes at Joel before looking back at you. “I hope this one is better than that.”

“You might need a dress if you go.”

The two of you glance over at Joel gulping back some of his lemonade. When he sees your dual questioning looks he raises his eyebrows, silently asking what?

Ellie stares at Joel as if she's been struck across the face. "The fuck would I wear a dress for?"

"In the south women dressed up for everything," Joel tells Ellie as he passes her the salad. "Just how things were done. My grammie wore a dress and pearls to go shoppin' in."

You can't help but discreetly glance down at your worn jeans and oversized sweater, suddenly seeing the snags and uneven loops in material. Not exactly dressed up. But you don't own nice, pretty clothes me up of soft feminine fabric. You have denim and leather and wool. Hard, fierce materials for the elements. 

"I hate dresses," Ellie frowns. "And things have changed since your day old man."

"You little shit."

You smile into your pasta. The silence is back over the table and you feel the need to fill it, despite it being a comfortable one. Emboldened by the relaxed mood in all people at the table you shift your question to Joel. 

"Are you going?" You ask casually, your attention on your meal. You hate how the flutter has begun in your chest. 

"I better. I volunteered to help with it."

"I figured you might have just been doing it for Tommy," you shrug. "Can't say I picture you at some big event with dinner and dancing."

"Joel dancing?" Ellie sputters a laugh into her glass of water. 

Joel arches a dark brow at Ellie. 

"Just can't picture it," she says giggling. 

"You know I wasn't born an old man," Joel says amused, turning his attention back to his dinner. "Did plenty of dancin’ in my day."

"Really?"

"S'half the reason Sarah was born," he says with a small smirk before he realizes what he's said.

The table grows quiet as his smile vanishes. Ellie notes the tension, shovelling pasta into her mouth.  You feel a lurch in your stomach at Joel's queasy expression. As if you'd dug a blade down his sternum and exposed his still beating heart to the world. 

It makes you speak without thinking, desperate to show him he's safe to share that side to him. Desperate to let him know he's not alone. 

"My sister loved to dance," you offer up, feeling the dual gazes of the people at the table. 

"My sister was in ballet but she'd uh, she'd do this stupid dance called the Macarena." You laugh a bit to yourself as you recall it. "It was really popular, was on the radio all the time and my dad hated it. I think that's why she kept doing it. He'd act all irritated but he'd always end up laughing." You smile at the memory. "She could always make people laugh." 

Ellie is smiling broadly, fascinated by your stories of this time before and there’s something so comforting, so normal in talking about your sister like this. Like the world isn’t ended and ugly, like she could come walking through the front door right now.

"One time my dad waited until we were in the backyard and then he turned the hose on her when she started singing and doing it,” you say, laughing bubbling forth from you. Ellie joins in, amusement painted in her expression.

Joel is listening with a gentle curl of his mouth. Ellie turns her attention over to him.

"You ever do the Macaroni dance, Joel?"

"Macarena," Joel corrects. "And fuck no, I didn't."

His horrified expression and just hearing the term Macarena in his husky drawl has you laughing loudly, a bright, noisy thing that bursts from you. It brings Ellie along with it, giggling and snorting as Joel rolls his eyes, his mouth twitching as if he's unable to keep the smirk from spreading over his features.  

The laughter ebbs comfortably and you shoot Joel a grateful look. 

"It's nice to remember the good times."

The smile he gives you in return is soft and sweet.

"Yeah. It is."

His gentleness makes your chest ache in a way you don't quite understand. It makes you feel compelled to change the topic. You shift your attention over to Ellie who is watching you both with a small curve of the corner of her mouth.

"Uh, so, I didn't know it was your birthday but I guess I actually got you a gift,” you tell her. “If you want it and Joel's okay with it."

Joel looks on edge, brow raised in confusion. Ellie wears a twin expression, but more relaxed. 

"Really?"

She looks around you for a box or wrapped item. 

"I, uh, found someone to do your tattoo to cover up your scar."

Immediately the room is silent and Ellie’s hand unconsciously places itself on her forearm, hidden under her striped sleeve. Your eyes ping pong between the two of them, concerned you’ve done something wrong. Joel is quiet, his dark eyes surveying your face as if he doesn't know what to make of you.

"If you wanted it," you amend. 

"Are you serious?" Ellie is wide-eyed.

"Yeah it's this new guy, Arthur. He just came to town with his wife. He does stick and poke tattoos and he owes me one so..." You trail off before forcing yourself to finish. "If you wanna see his work I'll introduce you to his wife. She's covered in them and they're gorgeous." 

Joel is still quiet and you're not sure what to make of the silence. You frown over at him, grimacing slightly. 

"Is that okay, Joel?"

Joel tilts back, one forearm lying casually on the table, the other resting on the back of his chair. 

"I'll wanna meet this guy. Make sure he's trustworthy."

"Of course."

"If he is... Well, it's not my body not my choice. But if you want my opinion Ellie, I'd say it's a damn fine idea."

Relief blooms in your face as Ellie gives a squeak of delight. Joel is still looking at you though, face relaxed. 

Ellie is still staring at you a beat before whipping her gaze to Joel. The two of them share a private grin before Ellie turns round to look back at you. 

"Can we go tonight?"

You laugh. "No, but I can see if there's room in his schedule later this week. If you come to lunch in the dining hall tomorrow his wife might be there."

"Awesome!" 

You smile back at her, feeling a familiar tug under your ribs every time you're happy. A measure of guilt mixed with joy. It makes your eyes wet and you push back from the table needing a moment to breathe. 

"I'll go grab your cake," you mutter, striding from the room. You hear the two of them chatting quietly behind you as you pull the cake from the fridge. 

You search the drawers for three plates and a knife, sniffling slightly. All you can think of is this bubbling joy and how she's not here to see it, to feel it, to live it too. 

You take a moment to stare at the pale pink cake. The icing on it is lumpier than you would have liked, but you'd been rushed for time. You look at the sliced strawberries and delicate whirls and you frown. 

This cake couldn't be less Ellie. Ellie is dark berries and bittersweet chocolate. She's not strawberries and pale pink icing. You idly wonder why you made this specific one for her today. 

You know why.

You cut into the cake to shut up the voice, noting how dense it ended up being with each pass of the blade. You cut it into several pieces, wiping at your eyes with the back of your sleeve with each slice. 

You feel a presence behind you; footsteps slow as they make their way next to you. Joel deposits the empty dinner dishes into the sink with a light clatter. You inhale his clean laundry and wood shavings scent, feeling dizzy. You wait for him to leave, but he’s standing there beside you, his frame sturdy. You drag your eyes up his chest to his face.

"That was kind of you, doin' that for Ellie."

"Oh, I'm not doing anything," you say with a shy lift of one shoulder. "Just the organizer."

Joel nods, tongue lodged in the side of his cheek as he stares at you thoughtfully. You let your hair fall in front of your face, worried he'll see the sheen to your eyes. It effectively blocks him out as you plate one of the cake pieces. 

"She's a good kid," you offer, knife gliding over the dish. "She deserves good things." 

"She does."

"Arthur is really nice," you tell him, hoping that if you continue to distract yourself by talking that your tears won't spill down your cheeks. "And I know he'd be discreet." 

"S'good."

"So if you want to-"

You break off when you feel Joel's fingers sliding through your hair, moving it over your left shoulder so he can peer into your face. His fingers slip down your shoulder blade before leaving your body. You track each movement, body tingling. 

"You okay?

You blink quickly, pulse jumping. His eyes hold nothing but concern in their depths, confusing you. 

"Yep. I'm fine."

He cocks his head slightly, one hand braced against the counter. 

"And the truth?"

You swallow, plating the remaining slices of cake. 

"Do you ever feel guilty that you're alive and others aren't? Like... Every time I feel a little bit happy it's like its wrong." 

Joel nods but he doesn't offer more than that. You're thankful because you're not sure any words could have brought a modicum of comfort anyway. 

You scrub at your eyes with the back of your sleeve before taking a page from Jennifer’s book; forcing a wobbly smile onto your face and motioning to the cake.

“So are we singing Happy Birthday?”

“Not a fuckin’ chance.”

You grin at him, handing him his slice of cake and following him back into the dining room. Ellie there, looking excitedly to you as you slide her cake in front of her. She plucks the strawberry off the top, popping it into her mouth.

You take your lemonade glass and raise it. 

"To Ellie on her birthday," you say with a grin. "May your coming year be full of adventure."

Ellie smiles with a shy tilt of her face into her shoulder. You're surprised when you see Joel raise his own glass. 

"And less joke books."

Ellie sputters a laugh at this, head back her shoulders shaking. Joel chuckles at her and once again you feel like you're witnessing something sweet without being left out. Like they're letting you peek into their secret selves. 

“So was this an okay birthday dinner?” you ask.

“My first real one,” Ellie shrugs. “So it’s a good one for me. Plus I don’t actually know my birthday. I just decided I liked November so…”

She shrugs trailing off, her eyes stuck on the cake like she’s ashamed. You dart a look at Joel to see him similarly surprised at this admission. How could he not know? You glance back at Ellie who looks somber.

“I love that idea,” you enthuse. “I never liked my birthday. I think I’ll move mine to the summer so it’s always sunny when I celebrate. I guess you’ll have to make me a cake for mine, Ellie, so you better start practicing.”

Ellie grins over at you as you stick a fork into your piece of cake, the tension broken. The three of you are quiet as you savor the burst of flavor on your tongues.

“This is so good,” Ellie enthuses. “Way better than anything in the dining hall.”

You smile into your cake, flushing at the praise.

“So aside from a tattoo what would you want for your birthday?” Joel asks Ellie, his soulful eyes sincere. In moments like this you can see so clearly that he is a father, and a dedicated one at that. If Ellie asked for the moon you have no doubt he’d manage it.

“I wanna see a dinosaur,” Ellie replies seriously. “Or see space like in those books you got me.”

"Time travel," Joel nods, grinning. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of you chat casually about things in town, about Ellie and school until your plates are empty and Ellie is announcing she’s full after her third piece.

 Before you can start helping with the dishes she has your wrist in your grasp and is announcing to Joel that you and her are going to do girl stuff so he needs to leave you both alone. Joel hides the amusement in his features, nodding as you’re dragged away.

She pulls you into her bedroom, closing the door and motioning for you to follow her. You smile at her, feeling a bit of that sisterly affection flow through you as you watch her pace around her room, looking for something. She moves things on her shelves as she talks to you over her shoulder.

"Are you going to the party with that guy you're always with?" 

"Luke?" 

"Yeah that sounds right. Is he your boyfriend?"

Your eyes fly wide before you give an awkward chuckle. 

"No. Not my boyfriend."

"But you want him to be?"

"I don't really know," you answer honestly, fingers trailing along the edge of her desk. “Jennifer keeps trying to get us alone together.”

Ellie makes a face at this, halfway between exasperation and disgust as she throws back the pillows she moved. It makes you giggle but then feel guilty because Jennifer is truly one of the best people you know. 

"Why do you dislike her so much?"

"I dunno," Ellie shrugs her left shoulder. "Just think she's phony is all. Just like Diana."

"I used to think that too," you tell her honestly. "Jennifer suprised me though. I think you'd like her if you gave her a chance, Diana too."

Ellie just shrugs again, hands in the pocket of her jeans in a way that is all Joel. So much of her is, from her scowl to the way she sticks her lower lip out in thought. She looks over at her dresser, eyes brightening.

“That’s where I left it.”

You watch as she pulls out a dark blue ribbon holding it in front of her.

"I never pictured you as a ribbons in your hair kind of person," you tell her honestly. 

"I'm not." She hands the ribbon to you. “It’s for you. It’ll look nice in your hair.”

You’re touched by this, taking the ribbon, fingers dancing along the frayed edges. It’s a midnight blue, the deep of an ocean. You smile at her gratefully before pocketing it.

“Thanks Ellie, but it’s your birthday you’re the one that should be getting presents.”

“I got enough tonight,” Ellie says, looking away from you shyly. She strides over to the bookshelf, bringing out a book you didn't see during your last visit here. She holds it up to you as you approach. 

"Did you ever read this one? Joel says it's a good one." 

Charlotte's Web. 

You feel your stomach churning the longer you look at the title. The pale watercolor girl and pig. 

"Yeah," you say in a quiet voice. "It's a good one." 

Ellie nods, looking back at it before tossing it onto her bed, obviously her evening reading. She's quiet for a few moments, contemplating something before gazing over at you. 

"Don't tell Joel I'm thinking of going to the party. He'll just make a big deal about it."

You smile, touched by her trust in you. 

"Our secret."

///

When the moon hangs low in the sky and the world feels quiet you find yourself under the big window in your bedroom sitting under a knitted blanket, eyes wide. Your pupils look like little moons themselves, eclipsed when the reflection is shifted as you tilt your head. 

You've always loved looking at the moon. Unlike the sun that can be harsh and unforgiving, the moon is calm solemnity. It's quiet and forgiving. It bathes you in a soft glow and your neighborhood in a quiet still. 

You realize that being with Joel is like being exposed in the sun. Often harsh, unforgiving rays that burn your skin, but when it's warm and gentle attention is on you it's so enticing you want to bask in it. It's not as if you actually enjoy his company. He's fucking insufferable. It's because he withholds so much that when he finally relents and allows a bit of softness to trickle through it's like a stream you want to drown in. 

You were always been the one who wanted to befriend the feral cat, to earn their affection, to let them know you could be trusted. You suppose that must translate into this life now, a desire to tame the wild. 

And now you sit in the night, gazing at darkness, lost in thought. Tonight is one of those nights, the kind where your mind won’t quiet and the world seems more confusing than normal.

Sometimes on these nights under the moon you watch people wander up and down the streets. The night owls that aren't bidden by a clock like the rest of the town. But it’s almost three in the morning and the streets are empty.

It leaves you with nothing but your increasingly frenzied thoughts because if you focus you can still feel the sensation of Joel’s wide fingers buried in your cunt, the rasp of his warm breath on your neck, the husky urging of his rumbling voice telling you to come for him.

I know what you feel like when you're close. Don’t fight it.

Be a good girl and do it.

Give it to me. S’mine

You could write it off as nothing but lust but then dinner with Ellie? It had been a softening, a sweetness you peeked through the cracks of his hard planes. You’d seen love in his eyes for her, compassion for you. And above all you’d felt safety there in his home, a brief flash of it before your past memories caught up with you, nipping at your heels. Then the sensation of his hands moving your hair over your shoulder, the touch all tender and asking nothing in return but your honesty.

Joel Miller confuses you.

And then like some phantom you see him.

He’s there amongst the dreary wet snow, walking – well, stumbling slowly towards your home. He must have been at the Bison – he has the look of a man who’s had one too many, something you’ve never truly witnessed in him before.

You tense up, watching him in your window, knowing he can’t see you in the darkness but still paranoid he’ll sense you. With the moon high in the sky you can see him perfectly, the blue-black shape of his broad body and soft curls. You see when he comes to stand in the center of the street and you inhale softly when his eyes fix on your bedroom window.

He stands there for several minutes just staring, sort of wobbling from foot to foot. For some reason his presence compels you into pulling on a robe and rushing downstairs. Your blood is roaring in your ears and you know your pulse is doing its own little tap dance but it doesn’t stop you from jerking open the door.

"Joel?"

Joel is standing on your porch now with his dark eyes squinting against the light from your home shining out behind you. 

"Joel, it's three am."

Joel just stares at you, a long lingering thing. Something about the intensity of it makes any further remarks die on your tongue. Why did you come down here? Why did you open the door? Why did you invite this awkward moment into your life?

Joel stands there with glassy eyes fixed on your face. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets and for a moment you worry something might actually be wrong. You pull your robe tighter around you before you take a step towards him.

"Joel are you-"

You go silent when he holds up a hand in front of him, palm facing you, silently asking you to stop talking. 

"Just ..." he trails off, voice thick with sleep and alcohol. 

He makes no move to come closer, no attempt to touch you. He just stares at you a few more minutes and then with a satisfied little nod to himself he walks off your porch and into the night. You watch him trail down your steps and then his long legs carry him in the direction of Rancher Street.

------------------------------------------

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