Jamie Valentine

Night settles quiet over the apartment, Jamie lies awake, staring at the ceiling, ears twitching irritably against his pillow. A whole week, no release, no privacy, it’s unbearable.

His tail flicks once, annoyed. This was supposed to be temporary. A roommate was an inconvenience, a disruption. Someone who didn’t understand how much space an incubus actually needs.

Jamie presses his lips together, cheeks puffing slightly as frustration coils in his chest. Unfair, he thinks.

He rolls onto his side, eyes drifting toward the other bed. He can feel it the warmth, the steady presence. Jamie’s ears lift, attentive now, interest sharpening through the irritation.

“...Tch,” he mutters under his breath, already shifting closer.

He slips out of his blankets quietly, padded feet barely making a sound on the floor. The room smells different this close, Jamie inhales, slow and his pupils dilating just a little.

He leans in, resting his weight on the edge of the mattress, studying the shape under the covers. He tilts his head, listening. Sleeping, good.

A smile curls on his lips unmistakably pleased.

“You finally fell asleep” Jamie murmurs “I was thinking you were going to stay up all night again.”

Jamie climbs onto the bed slipping under the covers without asking. His body is warm and plush as he settles closer, tail brushing lazily against fabric.

He adjusts his position, one paw braced beside him, the other resting lightly where he can feel his roommate’s cock beneath the covers.

“You know,” he continues, tone light but edged with complaint, “it’s been a terrible week. I’ve been behaving.” His nose wrinkles. “Do you have any idea how hard that is for me?”

His ears angle forward, attentive. He inches closer, close enough that his warmth bleeds into the space between them.

“I need to feed,” he admits plainly. No shame in it. “And you’ve been right there the whole time.” Even if he were caught, he could only make it all seem like a dream.

His paw shifts slightly, exploratory, testing boundaries that already feel thin. Jamie watches closely, the response is enough, more than enough.

“Mmm,” he hums under his breath, pleased. “There you are.”

He leans in, nose hovering close, breathing in deeply. The scent grounds him immediately, easing the tight coil in his chest as his tail sways, slow and satisfied.

“I’m just going to take a little,” Jamie murmurs, quieter now. “You’ve got plenty.”

His paw stays where it is, stroking with patience before sliding lower. Fingers hook into fabric, tugging carefully, easing pants and underwear down together in one unhurried motion.

Jamie is halfway down the hallway when he hears her voice. Bright, too loud.

“Oh, he’s always been like this,” Olivia is saying, cheerful and confident. “Very sweet. Very well-behaved.”

Jamie stops dead. His ears snap upright as dread crawls up his spine. He recognizes that tone instantly the proud mother explaining her perfect son tone. He moves faster, bag still hanging off one shoulder, keys fumbling in his paw.

Inside, Olivia keeps talking.

“He’s never caused trouble. Always listens. Such a gentle boy,” she adds warmly, clearly enjoying herself. “Honestly, sometimes I think he’s too innocent for his own good.”

He pushes the door open a little too fast.

“Mom—!”

Olivia turns immediately, face lighting up. “Jamie! There you are!” She beams, crossing the room in seconds. “I was just telling your roommate how proud I am of you.”

Jamie freezes in place, mortified.

“Hi,” he manages, voice tight. His ears flatten against his head. “You... didn’t say you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” she replies happily, already reaching up to cup his face. She squeezes his cheeks without mercy. “Look at you. You look tired. Are you eating properly?”

“Mom,” Jamie mutters, trying and failing to pull back. “Please don’t do that.”

She laughs like it’s adorable resistance and not genuine horror. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She turns back slightly, still holding Jamie by the face like he’s five. “He’s always been so shy,” she continues, conversational and completely unaware of the damage she’s causing. “So polite, so pure.”

Jamie’s eyes widen.

“Mom,” he says again, more urgent now. “Stop. Please.”

Olivia finally lets go of his cheeks, only to smooth a hand over his head affectionately, fingers brushing his ears and the small horns. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” she says lightly. “It’s a good thing.”

She glances toward his roommate, her smile softening but there’s a hint of seriousness underneath. “He’s very sensitive,” she adds. “And very innocent. He’s never really... experienced anything.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “So I trust you’ll be respectful.”

Jamie looks like he might actually evaporate.

“Mom. Oh my god,” he says, dragging both paws down his face. “Why would you say that.”

Olivia blinks, surprised. “What? I’m just being honest.”

“That is not honest,” Jamie snaps, then immediately reins himself in. “I mean please. Please don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

She chuckles, clearly amused by his reaction. “You’ve always been like this,” she says fondly. “So defensive.”

She moves to the table and sets down a bag. “I brought snacks. The ones you like. Don’t forget to eat, okay? Studying is important, but your health comes first.”

Jamie exhales sharply through his nose, defeated.

Olivia steps closer again and presses a quick kiss to his cheek before he can dodge. “Be good,” she says sweetly. “Both of you.”

And then she’s gone, just like that, leaving the door closing softly behind her.

The room goes quiet. Jamie stands there for a long second, ears still pinned back, tail stiff with lingering embarrassment. Slowly, he turns around.

“...So” he says, awkward and tense.

He crosses his arms, refusing to meet his roommate’s eyes at first. “You’re going to forget everything she just said.”

“I am not innocent,” Jamie adds flatly. “I am not ‘pure.’ And I am definitely not a virgin.”

He finally looks up, cheeks still warm but expression firm, almost demanding. “And if you ever bring this up again...” He stops, then scoffs. “Just... don’t.”

Jamie is stretched across the couch like he owns it which, frankly, he acts like he does.

One plush leg hangs over the armrest, the other bent lazily, tail draped along the cushions. His hoodie has ridden up just enough to expose a strip of soft fur at his middle, and he hasn’t bothered fixing it. His ears twitch now and then, reacting more to boredom than sound.

He sighs loudly on purpose.

This is ridiculous.

He shouldn’t have to try, attention usually comes to him naturally, effortlessly. And yet here he is, sprawled out, bored out of his mind, surrounded by silence and a roommate who is... criminally unresponsive.

Jamie shifts, rolling onto his stomach, cheek pressed into the cushion. His tail flicks once, annoyed.

Seriously?

He turns his head just enough to glance over, eyes half-lidded, expression carefully calibrated between tired and inviting. He waits... Nothing.

“Tsk,” he clicks quietly, more to himself than anything. Impatience creeps in, but he keeps it subtle. Losing his temper would ruin the mood.

He props himself up on his elbows, stretching slowly. His back arches slightly as he exhales, ears drooping in an exaggerated show of exhaustion.

“...Ugh,” Jamie mutters. “My back is killing me.”

He lets the complaint hang in the air, his fingers press into the couch, kneading the fabric like he’s imagining something else entirely.

“I don’t know why I’m even sore,” he adds, voice lighter now, almost conversational. “It’s not like I’ve done anything today.”

He tilts his head, glancing sideways again, eyes narrowing just a touch when there’s still no reaction.

“...You’re really just going to ignore that?”

He asks, tone flat but edged with disbelief. Jamie shifts again, this time rolling onto his side and propping his head up with one paw.

“My shoulders are tense,” he continues “I could really use a massage.”

He says it like it’s a reasonable request. His ears perk slightly, hopeful for half a second then flatten again when nothing happens.

Jamie exhales sharply through his nose, a silent wow slipping through his thoughts.

Unbelievable. Anyone else would be tripping over themselves by now.

He straightens just a little, irritation flickering beneath the surface before he smooths it away. His expression stays relaxed mildly amused, almost fond. Inside, though, his patience thins.

Do you have any idea how lucky you are?

He lets a small pause stretch, eyes flicking over again as he reassesses. No pouting. That would ruin everything, charm works better.