#incidentally there is only one bed

[thevioletcaptain]

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[moonstruckme]

Hi! I dont know if you write smut, but if you do, I was wondering if you could do a bestfriend!james and reader going further above the just touching? Like, they're cuddling and then suddenly grinding, leading to some you knooow!! Hehe, thank you!

I do ! This one is fairly tame though, sorry, it just felt more right for them in the moment. Thanks for requesting babe <3

cw: pg-13 smut

bestfriend!James x fem!reader ♡ 658 words

James is hardly the poster boy for cleanliness, but even he won’t stoop to getting in bed with jeans on. Which is how the two of you always end up like this, curled up under his covers and pantless for a midafternoon nap. 

The first time you did this, you were hardly able to sleep, but now it feels fairly normal. It helps that you’ve got the world’s least sexy underwear on, full-coverage and worn, a pinkish beige color that you suppose was probably supposed to be someone’s skin tone but you’d only bought as part of a multipack. And James has the comfiest bed in the world, a weighted comforter and the sort of heavenly mattress only generational wealth can procure. His arm is strewn loosely over your side, his front pressed to your back, and his breath is a steady rhythm on the nape of your neck. You’ve never felt so blissfully warm and heavy. 

You know without knowing how that James is starting to wake up just like you are, slow and lazy. You stretch out a leg, feeling the muscles tense all the way up your back, and he splays his hand on your abdomen as though to keep you in place. Makes a soft, sleepy sound. 

Later, you’ll say that you don’t even remember deciding to do it. Maybe you’re too tired to think straight, maybe you’re still halfway in a dream, but you nudge your hips back into James. A subtle movement. Incidental. 

Only, James nudges back. And he tilts his head so his mouth moves closer to your shoulder, mumbling something incoherent into your skin. 

It feels good. You keep going. After a while, his hand has migrated up to cup your tit, not hard, not squeezing, just a lazy perusal of unexplored skin. There’s not much of your skin James doesn’t know, but this is some of it. 

There’s a nice, sluggish warmth seeping into your core, sweet as a river of honey. Your breaths are still relaxed, syncing now. 

“James,” you whisper, his name hardly more than breath. 

“Yeah.” His hand trails back down to your hip, helping you turn over. “C’mere.” 

Your mouth practically falls onto his. There’s no parting of lips, no tentative pecks. Your mouths find each other warm and open. James tastes like basil, the pasta you’d had for lunch, but somehow also like himself, like even his saliva is a little bit sweeter than everyone else’s. 

You end up on top of him through a team effort, your leg hooked over his and his hands helping you the rest of the way. He holds your hips gently, guiding you back and forth over him. 

It’s slow and easy, like leaves swaying in the breeze or the tide coming in. So natural you wonder if this is actually the first time it’s happened. Maybe you and James have been doing this, somewhere just outside the reaches of your consciousness, forever. 

“Jamie,” you say in between kisses. Your voice hardly sounds like yours, breathy and still stretched with sleep. “What’re we doing?” 

“Dunno.” James’ voice sounds just as lax. It’s oddly comforting. “Don’t stop, yeah?” 

You weren’t planning on it. You let your head fall beside his on his pillow, face nestled in the downy softness of his curls while you kiss at the skin behind his ear. 

James makes a murmured sound of encouragement. His thumb begins to make smooth, indolent circles over the fabric of your underwear. 

“I fucking love these ones,” he sighs. 

You guess they’re not so unsexy after all. Once you decide you’re done with his neck, he takes a turn, slipping your sleeve off your shoulder to give you a pretty mark just to the left of your collarbone. Your bodies are warm everywhere they touch, that heat in your core a steady comfort. 

You don’t talk any more. You fall back asleep with your nose smushing into his cheek. 

[mokulule]

A Man Has Needs - Part 2

First | Masterpost

DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main Summary:

In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 2

Danny awoke Wednesday morning to the second coming of his human shaped bedmate. Of course with the terrible shape the guy’s core was in he hadn’t expected the first time to be the last time.

He sighed and rested his forehead on the warm bare chest right in front of him, closing his eyes again. Despite the dumpster smell, Danny was really freaking comfortable in the guy’s arms, pressed skin to skin, enveloped in his larger frame. Sighing again he slipped intangibly out of the hold. It was one thing to cuddle incidentally while sleeping, entirely another to continue while he was awake.

The guy was here because he was starving.

Danny cast a longing gaze over his shoulder - was it so wrong to long for someone who’d hold him like that just to hold him and not because he gave off surplus energy?

Danny frowned and floated over to his closet to pull out T-shirt and jeans, he didn’t want to risk getting caught in his underwear again. It had been embarrassing that he’d forgotten the last time, but it was only when the guy came out dressed he’d realized. Maybe he needed to start sleeping in a shirt? Maybe it would be less awkward. - Less like waking up from a one night stand without the benefit of even having gotten laid.

That was a thought - Danny couldn’t really have someone staying overnight.

Not that he really had much game in the first place, but a small part of him had hoped maybe getting away from his parent’s infamy and his own unfortunate high school reputation might change things a bit. And while Danny wasn’t discounting the possibility that he could end up doing something ridiculously embarrassing that would make him a social pariah for the rest of his college experience, these first two days had been really nice.

Nobody could replace Sam, Tucker and Val, but he’d met some really nice people that felt like they could be good friends.

It wasn’t like Danny had had plans to start dating or end up in bed with strangers, but it was college. There were gonna be parties - that he might even get invited to! And he’d been open to the possibility, if it happened. Mutually consenting adults doing adult things because they wanted to. Danny knew and embraced the fact that he was something of a bi-disaster.

Not that that mattered right now. Nothing could happen.

Danny finally pulled the shirt on over his head and stared unseeingly at the closet door. Ghost animals wouldn’t have been a problem, they were generally shy and wouldn’t join him if he wasn’t alone. But Danny’s ghostly visitor was part human and not only that he was starving and sick.

Not only did he not want to explain to a one night stand, or worse someone he was dating, why an unfairly handsome man joined them in the middle of the night, he also didn’t know how his guest would react to Danny not being alone. The starvation might make him territorial over his food source. It also wasn’t out of the question that he would seek out Danny elsewhere in the city.

It was just a potential disaster best avoided entirely.

Danny sighed and finished dressing. Lamenting temporary restrictions on his non-existent love life didn’t help any. Breakfast and coffee however, that was something he could do.

Oo o oO

Mint and frost in his nose.

Jason’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Not his room, not his apartment.

Memories flooded into his brain and he buried his face in his hands. How could he have forgotten this had happened? How had he not done research? He had crawled into some guy’s bed to sleep, been fed breakfast and sent on his merry way, and Jason had forgotten? Or well not exactly. Rather he’d been distracted and the strange events of Saturday morning hadn’t seemed important.

What was wrong with him?

Jason rubbed his forehead. Somehow it had happened again. He quelled the rising alarm. Panicking would do him no good.

There was the rustling of movement beyond the not quite closed bedroom door. Jason’s head snapped up.

For a moment he just breathed watching the door. He would be on the other side of the door. There was the scent in the air again beckoning him to follow. His head spun as he breathed in deep.

Jason should have conducted a proper background check on the guy after the first time. He had no real excuse, but he’d gone to Sunday dinner at the manor. They’d all been so surprised and happy to see him, that had been a surprise for him. He’d expected their surprise but not their happiness. He’d even managed to interact with Bruce without any scathing words. He’d scarcely been able to believe how well it went.

He’d gotten so much done since Saturday and then, what had happened last night?

He was on patrol and he’d suddenly been hit by exhaustion, like a sledgehammer. He’d had to call off relatively early. The last thing he remembered was stashing his gear and then nothing.

Mint and frost.

Would the man have called the police on him this time? First time could reasonably have been called an accident, but a second incident? Didn’t seem near as accidental.

Jason’s eyes fell on the pillow his head must have rested on just moments ago and promptly had to strangle the urge to burrow his face in it and breathe it in.

Disturbed, he jumped out of the bed. Something was up with him. Something weird.

He collected his clothing and boots, just as scattered around the room as they were last time. He couldn’t find his left sock. His shoulders wound up in tension. Just his luck.

Like last time, he considered jumping out the window, but he really should face the music, and he wouldn’t figure out anything if he ran away. Maybe this time he would be able to apologize for the intrusion.

He opened the door the rest of the way and promptly his shoulders lowered as the tension left him in a sigh at the sight of the guy in kitchen area.

Jason didn’t know what to do with the reaction. It didn’t make sense at all. Nothing about his situation had changed. And yet, it was okay now. The idea that the guy would call the police on Jason was ridiculous, because he was safe here.

The guy watched a sizzling pan intently, his black hair was an unruly nest on top of the bent over head. He was clothed today, which wasn’t something Jason should be disappointed about.

“There’s a cup of coffee on the table,” he said, without taking his eyes away from the pan.

Jason’s eyes moved to the small table they’d eaten at last time. Sure enough, a steaming black mug with white text sat there innocuously.

Okay, so they were doing this again.

Carefully he made his way to the table, looking around. There were a lot less moving boxes this time. A bookcase had been assembled next to the window on the right wall and half filled with books. He was too far away to read titles, but the size of most of them pointed toward textbooks rather than literature. There was still an open place on the floor over there suitable for a small couch.

He sat down and folded his hands around the warm mug, then immediately unfolded them as he caught a glance of the word dead. He turned the mug around.

Are you a half-dead or half-alive kind of person? The mug asked to Jason’s bemusement. It was clearly a pun on the glass half empty or full saying, but rather on the morbid side.

“Gift from my friends, they think they’re hilarious,” the guy said, and Jason looked up to find him smiling at him even as he rolled his eyes at his friends. Jason’s lips turned slightly upwards of their own accord.

“Anyways breakfast! And not even burnt,” the guy declared setting a plate down in front of Jason: A piece of buttered toast with two fried eggs sunny side up. And indeed not even burnt. If that was a concern that certainly explained his intense concentration earlier.

Guy sat down with his own plate. Just two fried eggs.

“No toast?” Jason asked before he could help himself.

“I hate toast.”

Now even more confused Jason looked at the toast on his plate. Why did he even have it then? He lived alone, far as Jason could tell.

“My sister brought it,” guy explained exasperated, “she says I should eat some bread too, for variation.”

Jason snorted, then looked down to the breadless plate, and back up with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah, you laugh it up. I bet you don’t do everything your older sibling tells you to either - if you have one, that is.”

Jason did actually laugh at that. He raised his mug. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Guy’s face went from momentarily confused to a feral smile and he lifted his own mug to clink against Jason’s. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Breakfast continued mostly silent after that point as they both ate. Jason was careful not to touch the other man, he remembered the strange reaction he’d had last, but otherwise he felt good; relaxed, languid and full as if he’d eaten quite a bit more than a single piece of toast and two eggs.

Guy was leaned back in his chair head resting on top of the backrest eyes looking unseeing at the ceiling, long line of his neck on display. It was good Jason felt so sated, it made it easier to ignore the fact he kinda wanted to lick and bite his way up that throat.

It wasn’t like Jason didn’t have any libido but it was an odd thought process to have for him with someone he barely knew.

Guy’s hands were curled around his mug and he occasionally took a sip, throat bobbing with the motion. He looked as relaxed as Jason felt. After one such sip, he checked his phone and the atmosphere was broken with a “Shit! Forgot the time!”

The guy rushed around the apartment grabbing coat and keys and backpack. Jason followed him outside into the hallway as he finished tying his shoes while somehow walking. He straightened and locked his door.

“Take care of yourself,” he called after Jason as he ran down the hall.

Jason was left mildly shellshocked staring down the now empty hallway. He had managed to get through the whole encounter without any strange electrifying touches. Why did he feel so bereft?

Something was clearly up. With the guy? With Jason? He wasn’t sure, something in him rebelled at the very idea of labeling the guy as a threat, and that set him on edge.

One thing he knew for certain; he had a long overdue background check to do - and he felt full of energy to do so.

-

And so it continues, I actually wrote this months ago, but wasn't entirely happy with it, but then @ollietheotaku commented on part 1 and I was reminded and realized maybe my eyes would be fresh on it now and here we are. Never let it be said commenting on older fics doesn't work!

I also started writing part three but with Dead on MAYn starting in a week I really must focus on my fics for that!

Hope ya'll enjoyed! I don't always get around to replying to all comments but know they are appreciated and so is speculation what is gonna happen.

If you wanna subscribe you can do so at the Masterpost

[gilverrwrites]

I’m so obsessed with Perv!Dick as if I wouldn’t end up incredibly depressed in that scenario, butttttt

Dick bringing Roy over to have fun with you, telling you that Tim is into threesomes and you shouldn’t worry now because Roy isn’t nearly as intense as Kon (Tim’s threesome partner of choice) while he’s backing you up until your back hits Roy’s chest, caging you between the two men? Is this something?

IT’S SOMETHING! Anon, this ask shut off my brain for like 8 hours straight and then a bunch of other times intermittently whenever I thought about it. Oh to be sandwiched between Dick and Roy, I would die happy. Here is the most cohesive response I would muster with the stray pieces of thoughts I could pluck from rattling around my brain. Good work anon 💖 Warnings: Perv!Dick, F/M/M, coercion, manipulation, Dick being possessive ━ [Part 1] ━ [Part 2] ━ [Part 4]

Dick knows he’s pushing his luck; his heart feels heavy with guilt as he watches you pick at the beds of your nails.

“I don’t know, Dick.” You’ve had this look on your face, like a kicked puppy, all big wet eyes and pouty lips since you’d opened the door to find not one, but two pairs of eyes staring back at you. He feels bad, but more than that he wants to fuck the pitiful expression right off your face. “I’ve been thinking maybe I should save some firsts for Tim.”

“I get that, you’re right.” Dick agrees purely for the sake of giving you some perceived agency back, ignoring the way Roy crosses his arms and quirks a brow from behind you. That’s another part of it, proving to Roy that he really does have you wrapped around his finger after bragging about you incessantly. “If you would rather your first threesome be with Tim and Kon, I totally understand.”

“K-Kon?” You stutter, eyes growing even bigger at the sound of his name.

Dick knows you’ve met Kon exactly once before at a birthday gathering for Tim and that it hadn’t been the best experience for you. Kon rarely has bad intentions, he’s just a little rough around the edges. You’d incidentally gotten in his way on the dance floor at some point, and it had resulted in some pretty nasty, but entirely accidental bruising and Kon hadn't really been given the chance to apologise, which he absolutely would have, if Dick hadn't swept you off the dance floor so he could 'tend' to you before Tim or Kon could get a look in.

“Oh, that's right, those two are tight.” Roy clues in on the play and you swing around to watch as he goes on. “Good guy, bit much though. Doesn’t know his own strength. I once watched hi- Ah, you… don’t wanna hear this, hon.”

“No…” You’re looking at Roy with that same innocently curious look you’d given Dick the first time he’s sunk his fingers into your tight little pussy. Roy’s chest immediately starts to puff up, his freckled skin turning reddish with arousal as he throws Dick a glance that says ‘wow!’. “I think I do.”

“Really you don’t.” Dick tells you and you turn to face him again, stepping back when you realise how close he’d gotten while your back was turned. You raise your hands unconsciously and Dick takes them in his own, tenderly pressing your palms to his chest, to his heart, really amping up the soft, understanding 'brother-in-law' angle as he goes on. “If you want to wait for Tim and Kon to tag team you, that’s totally your prerogative, but the offer is on the table.”

You’ve also only met Roy once more before tonight. He had this easy sort of confidence with the ladies. Before Dick has purposely interrupted, selfishly wanting you all to himself, Roy had offered you a charmingly mellow smile that has intrigued you. Before he'd even introduced himself, he had a hand on the small of your back, strong fingers massaging your skin in much the same way he does now.

You hadn't even noticed how Dick had been herding you toward your guest until your back was pressed against Roy’s solid chest. Roy’s hands tread ever so carefully around your hips, creeping under your shirt, the tips of his fingers are hard and warm against your skin. He leans into your shoulder until his stubble scratches at your neck and his voice reverberates down your spine as he talks directly into your ear. “We can be real gentle with you.”

They won’t be gentle. They’ll start off slow and calm. Roy kissing your neck, stroking your hair, whispering sweet words to you while Dick warms you up. Getting you off and stretching you out on his fingers, just like he’s done countless times before. He’s got your pretty pussy memorised and he’s gonna make sure you’re wet and ready to take them both.

But once your lips are around Roy’s cock and Dick is balls deep inside you, all bets are off.  

"Fuck- You suck it like a pro, doll."

"Who taught you that, baby?"

Even if your mouth weren't to full, you're to cock drunk to interject when they converse about how good your pussy feels, or how well you take it while they pile into you from both ends.

You're nervous about loosing your anal virginity, but between that and taking them both in your cunt, you'd much rather let Dick put it in your ass, and he coos in your ear the whole time about how you're such a good girl, you're doing such a good job, making them both feel so good.

But when Roy applauds how tight your pussy is when he starts stretching it out in places Dick's cock couldn't reach; Dick tells him to pull your hair, cause he knows how it makes your walls clench and your eyes roll back.

It's overwhelming, four big strong hands groping and caressing you incessantly. The sick, wet sound of skin slapping echos through the room. The scent of sex and musk fills your nose. You can't look away from them both at the same time, and whenever you close your eyes Dick pries them open again or slaps your buttcheeks until you get the point. He can't stand not getting the full picture, he loves how expressive your eyes are.

When it's over Roy gives you his number. "In case you ever wanna trade Tim in for 'an upgrade'."

Dick smacks him across the back of the head.

[edenavari]

On the Matter of Mirrors

Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else. 

‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed. 

But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right? 

“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps. 

They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.

All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him. 

“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.

He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger. 

“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts. 

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”

“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again. 

“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”

Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”

It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”

“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope. 

Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic. 

Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested. 

His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss. 

He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life. 

The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief. 

Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”

A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute. 

“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge. 

Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own. 

“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.

“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly serious. 

“You should forget all about Nancy.”

Steve frowns too. “That so?”

“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”

“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats. 

“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget. 

When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.

Give us a kudos, if ye dare x

[yuyuwritesss]

AFTER DARK +18

Pairing : Simon "Ghost" Riley × Reader.

Summary: you and Simon get acquainted on the subway.

Cw : smut, public sex, reader is pent up.

————————————————————————

Chronically tired, sexually frustrated and working nights. Could it get any worse for you?

Luckily you get off just in time to catch the first subway of the day, saving you some bucks and lessening your burden.

Incidentally that's around the same time Simon, home from deployment but still used to the early hours, finishes his morning training at a boxing gym he frequented as a teenager which he no longer lives close to now and has to commute back from, muscles aching from his training and morning run.

It has become a habit for you and Simon to ride the sub together, sitting away from each other. With him keeping an eye on you while you doze off.

You're usually the only two people on it up until the end of your commute, with you getting off a few stations before he does, his eyes watching you jolt out of your light, restless sleep at the sound of the automated voice announcing your station's name, and you're out of the door in seconds, but not before throwing him a glance.

The masked, hulking stranger who usually makes his way into your dreams, an hour later when you've gone to sleep in your bed, turning them into wet fantasies of being taken by him in the sub, filth whispered into your ear. An orgasm, which has been out of reach for months due to low energy and stress induced mental blocks, finally ripped out of you.

You always feel his gaze on you when he thinks you're sleeping. You wear your prettiest pencil skirts and tights to give him something to look at but you're still too reluctant to actually strike up a conversation.

Which turns out to be unnecessary when one morning, he chooses to sit right next to you, boxing you in between his hard body and the window, no words spoken.

You don't look at him at first but a large, warm hand on your thigh causes you to turn your head toward him, his brown orbs already on you, gauging your reaction.

He lightly squeezes your thigh in silent question, causing you to freeze and your eyes to widen. You slowly face ahead, the realization settling in that you could finally turn your dreams into reality and release some of your painfully pent up frustration.

Just as he began to withdraw his hand, an apology for causing discomfort bubbling up,  your arm hooked around his and you slowly leaned your head against his strong shoulder. Feeling you relax against him, he returns his hand to where it previously was, and slowly starts running it up your thigh, going under your skirt and pulling it up, your legs spreading to allow him access.

When he reaches your crotch, his other hand is brought over to rip a hole in your tights enough to push your underwear aside, soliciting a gasp  at both ruining your tights and the sensation of his fingers sliding over your folds.

"Shh, I'll make it up to you, doll.", his deep voice sends warmth coursing through you, your hold tightening around his arm.

He gently spreads your wet folds before scooping out some of your wetness with his index and middle finger. He then rubs your clit, getting it wet and prepared enough for the stimulation to come. His hand cups your sex, his calloused forefingers squeezing your clit between them, then he begins moving his hand in a circular motion, leaving you gasping in his shoulder as the pleasure slowly builds up.

Your hands claw at his hard bicep, the fabric of his hoodie pulled taut under your hand. You feel his cheek against the top of your head.

"You like that ?"

You barely hear him as you feel your release approaching, with his hand going faster causing your breath to hitch and soft mewls to spill out of your lips.

"You gonna come for me ?" You quickly nod against his shoulder, your hair ruffling and your other hand gripping his arm, hugging it to your chest even tighter to increase the pressure on your clit.

He nudges his nose between your ear and his shoulder and whispers "cum.", wringing it out of you, sharp waves of pleasure pulling you under and nearly suffocating you with how intense it is to feel yourself come undone again after months of denied pleasure.

He slows his movements down as your clit continues its spasms between his fingers.

"That's a good girl." He gives your clit one last pat, startling you.

Then after readjusting your underwear pulls the leg on the other side to him and leans down, softly speaking by the crown of your head.

"We just missed your station. Come home with me?"

And you, made dumb by your orgasm and wanting more, nod against him for what surely wouldn't be the last time that morning.

[mreowsu]

DRABBLES, ONESHOTS / itoshi sae x fem!reader

part two

Have you ever wondered why and when Sae started wearing his baby bangs up? :)

cw my writing. español conversational monologue is google translated, please correct me for any mistranslations and I apologize in advance. both are 14-15 in this since I speculate the reason started all the way back. hopefully, once the mangaka reveals more of sae's backstory in españa, he isn't far too emo yet at this age.

wc 2.5k

Sae had never been one for vanity. His appearance was something he wore like his jersey—unremarkable in his eyes, but a source of endless fascination for others.

He’d stick to the basics—clean-cut, effortless, and sharp enough without even trying. Though, his fans obsessed over every detail, from the sharpness of his jawline to the way his bangs, short and neat, fell softly over his forehead, framing his teal eyes. To Sae, all of this was incidental—just another part of his preference for simplicity.

It was one of those days, during a rare quiet (courtesy of you) evening at the academy dorms. Dinner had been a casual affair, with nothing much to do afterward, and as you wandered back to your room, the brightest idea struck you: why not pay a visit to—bascially, your only friend—at the other side of the academy housing?

When you were both scouted at the ripe age of 13 to play in Spain, both of you had left behind everything you knew—your families, your home, your language. The sudden plunge into an entirely different environment had been jarring. The culture, the food, the constant buzz of español around you—it was overwhelming. High expectations pressed down on your shoulders, with the academy’s reputation and dreams of a professional career constantly looming.

There was no support system to fall back on. Your parents were thousands of miles away in Japan, unable to offer more than occasional video calls and mailed letters. The club staff and academy members tried, in their own way, to act as mentors and parental figures, but it wasn’t the same. The homesickness, the struggle to adapt, and the pressure to perform all felt crushing. Conversations had been stilted and awkward, especially with the two of you still learning to speak in broken, halting español. But over a year later, you’d found a rhythm. When no one else understood, he did. You both knew what it felt like to miss home, to feel like an outsider, to be surrounded by noise but still feel alone.

As cliche as it sounds, in the end; it was you and, annoyingly, Itoshi Sae against the world.

The male dorms were quieter than you expected, a stillness hanging in the air that made your footsteps feel far louder than they were. You had no business being here, not really, but that never stopped you before. And besides, Itoshi Sae didn’t seem to mind your intrusions. Or so you told yourself.

The sharp knock you gave was met with his voice, calm and cool as ever.

“Come in.”

You opened the door to find him sitting at his desk, the glow of his laptop casting shadows across his face. His bangs shifted with the turn of his head, teal eyes flicking up with an expression that was neither surprised nor annoyed—just Sae. Acknowledging you before returning to whatever analysis or footage he was engrossed in.

“You again.” he said, his voice neutral, almost bored.

“You should be honored, really,” you poised, breezing past his room like it was yours too. “And unfortunately, you’re my only option Sae.” You drawled.

“Lucky me,” he said dryly, though he didn’t tell you to leave. “You know, most people knock and wait for an invitation.”

“You’ve never needed to invite me before,” you said, settling onto the edge of his bed. “Why start now?”

He didn’t argue, but the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. For all his complaints, you knew Sae appreciated having you around. You were the only piece of home he had here, just as he was for you.

No matter how much the world outside demanded of you—how high the expectations, how foreign the environment—in moments like this, with him, you could breathe.

Sae's dorm was a plain space that reflected the utilitarian nature of the academy housing, yet much derived of personality compared to yous: sparsely decorated but immaculate, everything in its place. A couple of freshly folded jerseys on the shelf, a framed photo by the bed—nothing excessive, just functional and quietly personal. It was so… Sae.

“Well, you’re early.” He remarked, shutting the laptop and leaning back in his chair, his eyes briefly meeting yours before shifting to the clock on his desk.

“Dude, it’s literally evening, and everyone just finished dinner,” you exasperated, rolling your eyes.

He shrugged, a faint smirk at his lips. “For you, that’s early. You usually show up when you’re about to pass out from boredom.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended, before mirroring his smirk. “Damn right I did.”

“Of course,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You need to lighten up,” you teased, flopping around his bed unceremoniously. “This place feels like a showroom. Do you even live here?”

He rolled his eyes, standing up to retrieve something from his shelf. “It’s a dorm, not a hotel. What do you expect?”

“A little personality wouldn’t hurt,” you quipped, watching as he settled back into his chair.

He glanced at you, expression calm but faintly amused. “If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

You grinned, knowing full well you aren’t going anywhere. “Nah, I think I’ll stay. Someone has to make this place feel alive.”

Sae sighed, but there was no real annoyance in it. “Just don’t make a mess.”

“Right… So, what’s the plan?” You asked, kicking off your shoes and leaning back on your elbows. “Am I supposed to sit here in silence while you work on drills in your head?”

He stood, walking over with that signature calmness of his, and sat criss-cross beside you on the bed. The mattress barely dipped under his weight, as if even gravity couldn’t unbalance him.

“Maybe,” he teased, voice soft but laced with dry humor. “Unless you have a better idea.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone and shoving it toward him. “How about we pick a movie? Something that isn’t Taxi Driver for once.” As much as you loved the movie, it was getting repetitive, and you were starting to feel like you knew every line by heart.

Sae glanced at the phone, then back at you, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “You don’t like it anymore?” he teased, his voice the usual mix of indifference and amusement.

“I love it, but I don’t need to watch it every time I’m over here,” you replied, scrolling through the options. “We’ve literally watched it four times this week.”

“Then pick something better.” He leaned back against the headboard, his posture as controlled as always, like he had no intention of exerting effort in this decision. But you could tell by the way his teal eyes followed your movements that he was paying attention. Typical Sae.

You sighed dramatically. “You know, it’s a lot more fun when you at least pretend to care.”

Sae raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking to the phone before returning your sigh ten times more dramatic, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Fine. But if it’s boring, we’re switching back to drills.”

You picked a new movie, something lighthearted, easy to watch, and settled back against the pillows, feeling oddly content.

The lights were killed, and the room slipped into a cozy darkness, save for the faint glow of the screen. Everything was ready to go and the movie started. But as it played on, your attention drifted back to Sae, completely absorbed in the film. His burgundy hair fell slightly over his eyes, distracting you for a moment. Without thinking, you reached over and brushed it back into place, the soft strands slipping through your fingers.

Sae’s eyes flickered incredulously toward you, but made no move to pull away.

He was uncharacteristically still as you perched beside him, fingers idly trailing through the silky strands of his hair. Your eyes flickered to his back and shoulders, noticing his now stiff posture. Though he didn’t speak, you could feel the subtle tension in his frame.

You murmured to appease him, “Sae, hold still.” The soft brush of your fingers through his hair seemed to ease the tension, so you continued with slow, deliberate strokes. When you brushed his bangs back, his eyes became the centerpiece of his face—sharp, vivid teals. They were like swirling oceans caught in the throes of a storm, deep and endless, with flecks of light dancing like sunlight on restless waves.

There was an intensity there, the kind that made you feel as though he could see right through you, peeling back every layer with a single glance. But beyond the sharpness, there was something softer hidden in their depths— like the stillness just before dawn.

Without the curtain of his bangs to soften the edges, his gaze became piercing, almost dangerous, like shards of sea glass—beautiful, but with a sharpness that could cut if you weren’t careful.

It was impossible to look away, not when his eyes held that kind of quiet power, commanding attention without a single word.

But then, Sae blinked.

He looked up at you with a slight frown.

"What are you doing?”

You felt the trance slip away, leaving you almost disappointed at how quickly reality snapped back into place.

You blinked back at him, brushing your hands off like you hadn’t just been lost in his eyes for longer than you cared to admit. “Nothing,” you replied innocently, tucking a few strands back into place and brushing his bangs, so they no longer fell over his forehead. “Your hair was in your face.”

“It wasn’t bothering me.” He said, though he didn’t pull away or stop you.

“Yeah, but it was bothering me.” You shot back, smoothing the strands until they stayed where you wanted them. His hair was surprisingly easy to manage, soft and silky under your touch. You backed up to admire your work.

His hair stood upright now, his whole face on display—sharp lines, ahem piercing eyes, the kind of look that stopped hearts if you weren’t careful. Gulp. “You look good like this. Cooler, maybe.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his attention seemingly back on the screen, but the slight tilt of his head toward your hand betrayed him. He wasn’t just tolerating it—he didn’t mind.

He scoffed, “You’re ruining it.” He finally uttered, voice flat. Though he didn’t make a move to fix it.

“Ruining what? You barely even care about how it looks.” You teased, letting your fingers drift through his hair one last time before settling back against the headboard.

His lips twitched, almost a smile but not quite. “Maybe. But now you have to watch the movie. No more distractions.”

“Fine, fine.” You smiled, turning your attention back to the screen. Yet something about the quiet approval in your gaze stayed with him.

From then on, Sae started keeping his bangs up.

It was a subtle yet significant change that didn’t go unnoticed. His fans speculated endlessly about the reason behind the new style—some attributing it to his growing maturity, others to a shift in his on-field persona. But smugly, only Itoshi Sae knew the truth.

* * *

The stadium roared with life as the final whistle blew, signaling another victory for the Re Al youth team. Sae, as always, was the picture of composure. His hair, damp with sweat, stayed stubbornly defying gravity in its upright style, the way he’d styled it before the game.

You watched from the stands, pride swelling in your chest amidst the thrumming energy of the crowd. Unlike your usual matches with the female Re Al youth team, tonight was all about the boys. Your district didn’t have a match, so you’d ended up in the crowd, cheering for a game you didn’t have to play in.

Sae’s teal eyes scanned the rows until they found yours. He didn’t need to smile or wave—just the faintest nod in your direction. It was so like him, subtle and understated, but somehow, and alarmingly, made your heart flutter all the same.

As the team took their victory lap around the field, Sae broke away, making a bee-line toward you. The crowd stirred, curious eyes following his every steps.

When he reached you, there was no hesitation. You leaned over the railing, your fingers instinctively brushing through his sweaty hair. His bangs, stiff from hairspray, you assume, and effort, softened under your touch, falling slightly out of place.

For a second, everything stilled. The roaring crowd, the flashing cameras—it all melted into a backdrop as Sae stood there, letting you fix him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The stadium fell into a stunned silence before the spell broke, erupting into cheers and whistles.

One of his teammates, whose name you didn't really care enough to remember, shouted from the field. "¡Oye, Sae! ¡No sabía que tenías un peluquero de guardia!" Oi, Sae! Didn’t know you had a hairdresser on call!

Hollering followed, and Sae shot them a quick, unimpressed glare. He turned back to you, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks, leaning just a little closer. “You’ve made quite th scene,” he said, voice low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, your fingers still lingering in his hair. “Can’t help it. You looked like you needed it.”

For the first time that night, Sae let out the faintest chuckle—a soft, almost invisible sound that felt like a treasure meant just for you.

When he walked back to his team, his bangs slightly tousled from your touch, the teasing began almost immediately.

“No sabía que nuestro Sae-chan podía verse tan humano.” Didn’t know our Sae-chan could look so human. They teased, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“O tan mandilón.” Or so whipped.

“Ni siquiera puedo imaginar que pueda sonreír así.” Can't even fathom he could smile like that.

“¿Es esto lo que el amor le hace a un chico?” Is this what love does to a guy? One of them added with a dramatic shake of his head, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

Sae ignored them, of course. But as he glanced back at you one last time, there was something different in his expression—something warm and quiet, a look reserved, meant only for you.

Meanwhile, the crowd’s whistles and playful jeers had you feeling just as flustered. Your cheeks burned, and you could tell by the way Sae’s ears tinted pink that he wasn’t immune to it either.

It was a simple thing, really. A touch, a moment, a look. Nothing too out of the ordinary for the two of you. After all, you were just friends. But amidst the crowd’s cheering, the teasing of his teammates, in the way Sae’s gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary, and in the way your heart raced, it felt like there was more to it.

And then the whispers started.

Backstage chatter, curious glances, and the media’s ever-watchful eye. They’d always known you and Sae were quite close, two prodigies from Japan.. childhood friends, even. But now... now, it seemed the world was starting to wonder if there was more to your bond than just friendship. Perhaps it was.. puppy love? Was there something more to the way you interacted? The teasing? The hair stunt you pulled? Was it all casual?

For now, that was all it was. Just speculation. But for Sae, maybe that small, fleeting interaction was everything.

Maybe.

And maybe that’s why, no matter how many times his teammates teased or fans speculated, Sae never explained why his bangs were always styled up.

* * *

© 2024 mreowsu HAPPY NEW YEARS! 🥳 🎉 🪅

sorry that i didn't write the way i usually do—in a poetic sense, anyway. This was just pure unfettered bluelock brainrot and the last epiodde from s2 had me going haywire i swear the animators were in the flow ong 😭🙏

[pricegouge]

ugh i was at a hotel last night and something happened and all i could think of was ‘i HAVE to tell gouge!’

essentially i was in the hottub sipping a little cocktail by myself until i was joined by two older men. they kept their distance and kept to themselves (i assume to avoid scaring little afab me on my own) but ALL i could think of was Nik and Price finding cute little reader alone in a hotel hottub and doing the absolute opposite.

like each of them taking a place on either side and continuing their conversation as if reader isn’t there but squishing the poor lamb between them.

eventually they get handsy, maybe feed the sweetheart a few more drinks than they can handle. and of course they can’t leave the sweet little thing drunk and all on their own! the only responsible thing to do would to be take the little lamb back to their room with them😵‍💫

anyway i might be insane.

~💉

got yourself in hot soup :/

honestly, you should have known better, taking your third drink for a walk. you would have been fine - really- it's just, well, who are you to say no when a handsome man with a devastatingly hot accent offers you another?

he says his name's nik. he hadn't had his leg against yours at the time, borderline indecently cut shorts letting the fine threads of his copious leg hair grate against your thigh. you'd flinch away, but the man on your other side is almost worse. nik calls him john, but he introduces himself as price. where nik's soft, price is made of steel wool. denser. a little bit meaner, too.

not that either of them are rude, exactly. they're plenty charitable. in a sense; share their drinks with you when you run out. fix the straps of your top when they slump. it's just that you hadn't planned to drink with two strange men tonight, and they're a little bit too insistent, price's gruff bark just a bit too teasing whenever you try to pull yourself to your feet.

'nough already?

yeah, kinda.

you've had enough of their hands, at least, but weren't sure how to stop that, either - not now that you've let it go on so long, each touch more innocent than the one that followed until you're not even sure where it began. maybe when nik had first handed you that drink, blunt fingers lingering. maybe later, when he'd laid his arm across the back of the tub. ostensibly, it was an excuse to dig strong fingers into the tense belt of muscle that blanketed his mate's shoulder, but the crook of his elbow sat just a bit too snug against your neck to be an accident.

or maybe you were looking too far into it. there was no way two grown men who'd clearly come together were hitting on you, after all. not when their big hands kept churning the water, reaching across you to pet at one another. even if it kept you incidentally locked in their strong arms.

'just keepin' ya upright,' john winks, and you've half a mind to tell him off for thinking you need it, but next thing you know your tops come untied and you're clutching your chest, embarrassment boiling worse than the tub. sloppy. maybe you do need their help.

they're nice enough not to laugh, at least. nik tuts as he gathers your ties, big hands surprisingly gentle, matching his voice when he leans in close and asks if you think you're ready for bed yet. you don't trust yourself to speak so you just nod, hide your face in price's shoulder as he helps you to your feet with a warm hand spread across your back. you're so busy why your skin already feels familiar with his touch there that you barely notice as they corral you into an elevator, nik confidently selecting the top floor without asking for you input.

you're not sure why you apologize but you do, meek when you tell them you're actually staying on the fourth floor. nik says that's nice. john says it sounds like a good place to grab breakfast. neither of them select it.

"where are we going?" you try again, stomach falling out beneath you as the lift rockets up without it.

"our room, of course," john scoffs as if it should all be very obvious. his fingers toy with the strings of your top again. again?

nik's tone is final when he speaks again, a low rumble you can barely hear over the whirl of machinery. "said you were ready for bed, milaya," he reminds you, just as john gives one last tug to your strings.

nik is not as nice about helping you retie it this time. good thing they've got the whole top floor.

[deepspacenova]

Zayne’s insomnia + Sylus being the perfect cure HCs

Zayne x Sylus (x Reader)

Incidentally, reader is third wheeling in like, this whole list (but somehow I feel like many of us won’t mind).

[Inspired by the replies in this post with @leighsartworks216 where we spiraled about Zayne + Sylus… dynamics that made my brain go into full HC mode.]

Sylus taking care of day to day Onychinus business when he starts to notice traces of Zayne around the house at night: a medical tome left open on the coffee table, a glass of ice water (but mostly ice) on the counter, one of Zayne's rings on the end table;

Pretty sure he understands, Sylus ventures out of his office more often. Each time he sees Zayne, he looks more exhausted but the one time Sylus raises a brow at him, he’s brushed off with an, "I'm fine.";

Sylus, of course, takes it as a challenge and makes it his mission to become the biggest tease. I mean, he's king of pushing the limits of your self control, so Zayne’s cinder block wall exterior is the ultimate challenge and he’s set on tearing that shit down brick by fucking brick;

It starts with touches. Brushing Zayne's hand, playfully squeezing the back of Zayne’s neck when he walk past him on a business call, using his evol to pull Zayne's books, phone, snacks out of his hands;

But then there's Sylus' words. And when it comes to those, Zayne's a goner. He's used to you being forward in your affections with him but he can't help but clear his throat at Sylus' double entendres and flirty quips, or feel heat in his abdomen when Sylus uses his drawling rasp;

"You’re always so tense, Z. Want me to loosen you up?";

"Those medical texts aren't doing anything to put you to sleep. Maybe you need something that penetrates deeper... into that overactive mind of yours.";

"I know you're the doctor, but maybe you need someone else to prescribe your... treatment tonight.";

It’s not long before it becomes a subconscious thing for Zayne — seeking out Sylus whenever he jolts awake at night. Zayne's very adamant that it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb you in bed though (sure baby boy);

But there's something about Sylus’ ruthless teasing and the mind games they play that has him tired out within an hour of even the worst of his nightmares;

And he'd never admit it out loud but sometimes, Zayne falls back asleep imagining the satisfaction he'd get from finally silencing the Onychinus leader's teasing by stuffing his cock down his throat;

Of course Sylus can tell when Zayne’s frustration and tension finally snaps. His new favorite thing is seeing Zayne try to resist him before he gives up and crawls back into bed;

Sylus knows exactly how to wear him down. Sometimes, it’s pulling the book from Zayne's hand with his evol, only to say "Careful, doctor. Grabbing it like that might get you into trouble,” when Zayne reaches over to snatch it back;

Sometimes he sneaks up behind Zayne, kissing the back of his neck while his Evol tugs Zayne's hips back against him;

Cut to Zayne, pants pulled down to his ankles, legs over Sylus's shoulder, getting the best fuckin blow job of his life. Sylus holding onto his thighs, refusing to let the doctor hesitate to squeeze around his head. Zayne's hand in Sylus's hair, pulling and tugging and trying to keep some semblance of control;

Zayne throwing his head back against the couch, breath choked in his throat, hand tight in Sylus's hair to keep his nose pressed to his stomach, but then Sylus pulls off of him. It's frustrating, it draws unexpected noises from him. And Sylus just smirks and says he promised to tire him out, kissing all up his hip and legs; (credit to @leighsartworks216 for these pieces of genius).

On particularly bad nights, Zayne goes to the balcony to catch his breath and some cold air to calm himself down. One night Sylus, effortlessly smug with the phone at his ear, at work, uses his evol to force Zayne to his knees. "Handle it today," he says to the person on the phone, "you know how I like to put men in their place.";

Speaking of, Sylus loooves edging Zayne. Leaving him a panting, writhing mess, pulling away just when Zayne’s hand tightens in his hair or his breath hitches in his throat. “I said I’d tire you out, but I never said I’d make it easy.”;

For a guy who doesn't say much, Zayne's vocal and very demanding in the heat of the moment - which wakes you up sometimes.

Knowing all about Sylus' scheme to tire Zayne out, you love sliding into bed hand pressed to his chest, "Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing, maybe we need to do some tests?" Sylus chuckles darkly, watching Zayne’s eyes flutter between both of you. The idea of you both teaming up to tire him out finally makes Zayne’s control slip;

The best time of day is twilight, a few hours before you and Zayne start the day, as Sylus is ending his. The three of you fall into bed, Zayne's body is exhausted and his mind is quiet. Barely keeping his eyes open when his fingers twine with yours. Sylus pulls you close from behind, his hand on top of both of yours. Sylus smirks at both of you, proud of himself. "The only nightmare you two are allowed to have is me."

[assortedvillainvault]

Disney villains reacting to you nonchalantly calling them your husband/wife please?

Sure thing Anon! You didn’t specify who, so I’m going to go for Hades, Jafar, and for funsies...Mim.

Disney Villains vs The Accidental Matrimonial Pet Name Slip Up

Hades

MHM!

Yeah baby flex his title, say his name! He can’t stop his flame from swooshing up and only barely resists the urge to pump his fist.

VERY likely to holler it across the street at random incidental strangers. Hey, you! Yeah schmuck you heard, he’s your HUSBAND, get it right!

Honestly he’s smiling like SUCH a goober, he can’t keep his hands off you now. Shoulders, waist, lower back – pretty much everything to say you’re an item without actually hollering it across the street like he just did to some poor bozo.

He’s also gonna swing you round into a big ol’ kissy and amp up the PDA.

Have you considered maybe matching outfits babe? Not- y’know, that he’s into ‘coordinated looks’ and all that garbage, but, know, maybe same pins? Same colours? Anything really, to mark you out as an item on his arm.

Much as he loves claiming you and making that abundantly clear, he’s also very much into being claimed in turn, y’know? Nice to know you’re proud of being with him, gets him all happy and excited. Loudly and proudly claim that he’s your husband in a public space (esp in front of his family) and he’s going to be an absolute sap for anything you wanna do.

Aphrodite has never seen such a lovestruck fool in all her life and honestly? She thinks half of Olympus could take notes on what love looks like after marriage from you two. Not that she’s ever going to say that when Hera is within earshot...

Jafar

He's startled... then sinks into a smug smile at how adorable you are.

Yes, he IS your husband, isn’t he? Why, he wouldn’t mind you saying it again, slower, maybe….

He’s one to get touchy, like Hades, but much more possessively. He’ll play with your hair, tug you close when you least expect it, and is a BIG fan of pulling you into his lap as a break from work.

Granted, he’s also very fond of subtly using his status as your husband to manipulate you into doing things for him. It IS your duty to him, after all…why is he holding his staff up like that-

Make sure to collaborate with Iago to push him down the stairs every once in a while to temper his ego. Put mousetraps on his side of the bed. Fill his shoes with sand and bat your eyes at him when he complains. Give and take.

He expects you to use your status as his partner for your own gain. Of course? Why wouldn’t you? Go on, tell the guards who you’re married to, see how quickly they get out of your way.

He’s also going to kiss you with tongue about it, but that’s a given.

Madam Mim

I have genuinely no idea if you’ve actually managed to get a ring on this menaces finger or just called her wifey for the vibes and a joke.

Regardless, she’ll blink owlishly...then a slow cheshire grin full of unpleasant promise and gleaming green eyes will split her face and honestly? You’re beyond help.

The Game has begun.

Will IMMEDIATELY use her wifey title to nag you then knock something over.

She’ll burst in to whatever room you’re in to trip you up, ‘straighten’ your clothes and force feed you a meal that could wrench whole kingdoms into developing indoor plumbing four centuries early.

The sound of mad old woman giggles is going to follow you everywhere you go.

If you chicken out and try to tell people she’s not your wife she will LOSE IT

Crying, wailing, screaming - throwing herself dramatically over public furniture to ‘cry’ about how you’ve betrayed her and how she ‘does so much for you’ and oh! The INGRATITUDE, taking advantage of a poor old woman-

Ants! Wardrobe full of ants for 10’000 years.

Thanks so much for the ask!!

[sillygoofyqueer]

Hooooold now!!!! you can't just drop in shen qingqiu attic-wifing crow!yuan and then say JUST KIDDING, i want to hear more!!!

i looove the idea of that shen qingqiu is super suspicious and waiting for the other shoe to drop, for shen yuan to finally reveal the knife hidden in his pocket and stab them in the back, only to find out shen yuan is just... actually Silly & Goofy Like That, and not a threat at all, and also shen yuan isn't scared of him, not even a little bit, and not in the way of most stronger cultivators who shove it in his face that they're more powerful than him, but in the way that shen yuan casually relaxes around him and looks at all his shinies without apprehension.

he doesn't care at all about the rumors either (he's done his own research, and why care about things that aren't true?), but he isn't hanging off his robes either like yue qingyuan, making him the only True Neutral presence around him. so well. attic-wifing it is<3

ATTIC WIFE ATTIC WIFE ATTIC WIFE- Listen, I'm always partial to Shen Qingqiu showing feelings and care by just...shoving people into his home and not letting them leave. I think SQQ would be slow about it, casually making Shen Yuan stay longer - "it's far too dark and even an imbecile wouldn't be stupid enough to try and venture out THIS late" - making him share a bed/sleep where the head disciple would usually stay. He would analyse how SY makes mini/temporary nests and then make the comfiest nest possible for the demon. Then he would start distracting SY with shiny things, leaving them out and carelessly saying that SY can keep them - "does it look like it matches my home? No, go put it in your room." (SY doesn't know when it started being referred to as HIS room, but he lets it happen anyway). SQQ is the one that suggests that SY recruits his corvids to deal with any requests or prayers, so he has more time to "read those frivolous books and practice those instruments that you're dreadful at playing", incidentally, inside SQQ's home. Meetings start being held there, instead of anywhere else. By the time the other peak lords figure out what's going on, SY hasn't been seen outside of Qing Jing Peak for weeks. They're petrified about what SQQ - the one most adamantly against SY's existence on the peak - has done to SY, and go rushing to see what's going on in their shixiong's home. When they get there, they find SY comfortable in SQQ's home, letting him preen his wings as he rants relentlessly about a new book he's reading, pausing to greet them with a confused smile as SQQ smirks smugly from where he's perched, wrapping his arms around an oblivious SY.

[gravehags]

at the altar of venus

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: body worship babyyyy, self-consciousness, body issues, handjobs, fingering, crying, possessiveness, two fools in love and lust, two fools being gross and making each other laugh

Words: 4,251

Summary: When you watch your beloved turn and turn in front of that mirror, you know something is off. Lucky for him, you have much to say on the matter.

a/n: I JUST THINK HANDSOME OLD MAN APPRECIATION TIME with yknow. a side of total filth and desperate desire.

~~~

What a day.

You wiggle your nude body in Copia’s soft sheets, nuzzle into your pillow and look across the room. Your lover is standing before the full-length mirror next to the dresser - also nude - turning his body to consider himself at different angles in the low lamplight. You watch him for a moment, watch the way his fingers card through his graying hair, loose from the grip of the day’s pomade. He runs his hand down his chest thoughtfully and comes to rest at the slight paunch of his belly. He cups the skin and his lips tug downwards into a frown.

“Amore?” he asks quietly, “do you think I’m eh, nice looking? Handsome?”

Any other time you’d laugh out loud at such an absurd question but you can tell from his slumped posture that he’s feeling downtrodden and that simply won’t do.

“The most handsome man I’ve ever seen. And that is not hyperbole. You’re the only man to ever turn my head.”

He sighs heavily through his nose and looks back at his reflection.

“You don’t think I’m…too old for you?”

Now it’s your turn to frown.

“My love…come here.”

He turns to look at you again and you crook your finger and throw back the covers. Fidgeting awkwardly he ambles over and slides into bed and you waste no time in pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

“Shall I tell you how handsome I find you? In great detail - from tip to toe?”

He scoffs and moves to pull the covers up over his chest but you gently rest your hand on his to stop him.

“You eh…you would do that?”

Now you do laugh.

“With pleasure,” you murmur, “let me just–” you pull yourself up and swing your leg over to straddle him, “--there we go. Let’s start here.” You rake your fingernails through his soft, wavy hair and smile when he shivers.

“I love your beautiful, full head of gorgeous thick hair and I love the bits of silver threaded through it most of all. I’ve told you before I’ve always had an, ah, thing for older men and well…what sort of older gentleman aficionado would I be if I didn’t love graying hair? I love the way the light catches on the silver and how it feels between my fingers when you’re uh…busy between my legs.”

He laughs softly through his nose, which is incidentally where your journey takes you next.

“And speaking of when you’re between my legs,” you say, waggling your brows as you drag your fingertip down the slope of his nose, “when this beautiful, stately, elegant thing nudges at my clit…oh. Copia I’ve always loved your nose since day one but what this thing is capable of…”

Your eyes unfocus for a moment as you lean in to kiss it absentmindedly.

“You’re getting distracted, amore mio,” Copia murmurs, eyes glittering. Eyes. Those pretty, mismatched eyes and those long brown lashes…

“As always, you are too kind to me,” he chortles, reaching a hand up to stroke your hair. Sathanas, you didn’t even realize you had said that out loud. “I used to hate my eyes when I was a kid, you know? Always a reminder of the bloodline I was a part of but never really a part of…not according to Nihil anyway. Where others thought the white eye was ‘commanding’ on Secondo or ‘alluring’ on Terzo, it was always eh, ‘unsettling’ on me.”

“Hmm,” you say thoughtfully, “I certainly don’t think you need them but did you ever consider contact lenses?”

“Oh, sì, sì,” he nods, “tried them once too in my twenties but eh…something was just…off. Personally I thought I looked creepier with two green eyes.”

You lean back a little and raise a hand to cover his white eye, and then the green while tilting your head.

“Shoulda got a white contact for the green eye instead so you could go around looking like some sexy demonic husky.”

Copia bursts out in laughter, his chest shaking beneath your palms.

“I thought this was supposed to make me feel better?”

“It is! I made you laugh, didn’t I?” you say with a grin, leaning down to place a slow, soft kiss on his lips that has his hands settling on your hips.

“Love these too,” you breathe when you finally separate, “love how soft and plump they are and I especially love the little freckle right here–” you place the pad of your thumb on his full lower lip, “--God you have no idea how it drove me mad day in and day out whenever we’d work together. Driving me to distraction. All I’d ever want to do when you got close to me is…” You lean forward once more and catch his lip gently between your teeth, sucking on it until you feel his cock twitch against you.

“Mmm,” you pull off him with a wet noise that has him panting into the dimly lit room, “is someone starting to buy into the truth that he’s the most handsome man in the abbey? Perhaps even the world?”

“Don’t push your luck, dolcezza, I’m just eh, excited to have a beautiful, soft, young thing on top of me. One who is very good with her mouth, I might add.”

“Oh, that’s too bad you still don’t believe me when I say you’re beautiful. Try harder and maybe I’ll give you a little treat, hmm?”

He chuckles and tilts his head back.

“I’ll do my best. Done with the face, then?”

“And skip your glorious little mustache and impeccably crafted sideburns? Cardinal, you know I’m a woman who pays attention to the details. To say nothing of the freckles that are scattered over your face and down–” you trail a finger down his throat and tap on his clavicle, “--over your chest and shoulders? I’d kiss every single one if I thought I’d live to accomplish that.” You amuse yourself for a moment by playing connect the dots with the marks until your fingertip slides over and traces the lines of his tattoo.

“You never did tell me the story with this.”

He smiles, thumbs brushing soft circles on your thighs.

“Terzo did it. I had just entered the priesthood and he came to my quarters and got me drunk and convinced–”

“Wait, when you say ‘Terzo did it’ you mean Terzo gave you the tattoo?”

“Sì,” he nods, “He knew how much I loved the Omen movies and always complained that I never did anything wild so…”

You lean forward and inspect the ink.

“That looks…a lot better than anything I would have expected from Terzo.”

Copia snickers.

“His lines were surprisingly steady, but his hand not nearly strong enough. I had a professional touch it up later but that stays between us, sì?”

You give him a salute and lean back, raking your fingernails down his chest.

“Back to the topic at hand,” you murmur, “unholy fuck I love your body hair. It’s so thick and soft and I love the way it scratches just right at my nipples when you’re fucking me into the mattress.”

He sucks in a breath so fast he nearly chokes.

“You’re really not holding back, are you cara mia?”

“Nope,” you confirm, watching the way the tip of his tongue slides out to wet his lips as he eyes your breasts. Briefly, your hands abandon his torso to come up and cup them, thumbing across your hardened nipples. You pull away and grab his hands, placing them where yours once were. Greedily, he palms the flesh as your hips make little circles.

“These,” you breathe, your hands covering his, “these gorgeous, big, strong hands with these thick fingers…I can’t even count how many times I brought myself off to the thought of them.”

“O-oh?” he pants, removing one hand and bringing it up to cup your face, “with the gloves a-and everything?”

You lean into his touch.

“Especially with the gloves. Copia, the way I’d fantasize about being able to feel every stitch and groove of those things when I’d picture them inside of me…” You turn your head to place a kiss to the scar tissue at the center of his palm and his thumb strokes your cheekbone. “Mmm, you got me distracted again. Where was I?”

You look down and remember, scooting backwards down his body to settle in between his thighs. He whines now that you’re only touchable if he sits up, too tired to make an effort. Not, however, too tired for other things, you think as you look down at his hardened cock resting heavy against his belly, smearing pre on the hairs there.

“We’ll address this,” you say, gesturing to his erection, “in a bit. But for now…this.”

Your word is punctuated by the way you run your hands over his slight paunch, grinning as you knead the flesh. Copia’s shoulders twitch as if he’d like nothing more than to fold in on himself, eyes trained up somewhere over your shoulder.

“Your soft tummy is so sweet and perfect and–” you make a noise like a big cat growling, “--I just want to eat it up.”

“Clearly from its appearance I’ve eh, done enough eating for the both of us.”

You frown deeply.

“Copia,” you say, your tone deadly serious, “since when do you have problems with a belly? I hope you don’t have problems with my belly and mine is a lot bigger than yours—“

“Amore, never!” he gasps, horrified, “You…you are perfection. You are soft and plush and-and a goddess. This–” he says, gesturing lamely to his paunch, “--is the result of old age. Old age and too much spaghetti.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why it’s hot,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “My love, this little belly shows that not only have you enjoyed life, reveled in it the way Sathanas intended, but that you’ve survived. Endured. I love this belly the way I love every single line on your face. You wouldn’t be my Copia without them. I didn’t fall in love with some guy in his twenties with a waxed six-pack. Quite frankly…ew. Respectfully, beloved, I fell for the kind, smart, handsome, distinguished gentleman in his almost-fifties. Who is sort of goofy and really good with his tongue. I mean…really good.”

He laughs softly through his nose, regarding you with watery eyes. His lips form the words to thank you but no voice comes out. That’s alright, though. You’re not telling him these truths for your benefit.

“Shall I continue?” you ask gently, smiling when he nods.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, where you massage the flesh.

“You know I hadn’t even seen these - like, really seen them - until our first official date? When you wore those tight, tight pants? Lord have mercy these things are thick. I’d be content to gnaw on them like a dog with a bone if you’d let me.”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” he murmurs, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you say with a wink, “I’d compliment your juicy ass too if I could get to it so just remind me to give it a healthy smack next time you’re standing, huh? The first time I saw you in profile in your cassock I almost passed out. Goddamn.”

He laughs and tilts his head at you.

“Ti adoro follemente,” he says, “thank you for making this old man love himself, even if it’s just a tiny bit.”

“I’ll take a tiny bit for now, we’ll work on the positive reinforcement.”

“Oh? And what kind of positive reinforcement did you have in mind?”

You ghost your fingers along his half hard cock, wrapping them around the shaft and leaning forward to spit thickly, your saliva landing on the head. The act has Copia moaning and shifting his hips up into your touch as you stroke him back to full hardness.

“Ah, dolcezza,” he sighs, half-lidded eyes watching your hand slide along the shaft, “if only you had known what I fantasized about with your hands.”

“Well go on, bello mio,” you purr, swiping your thumb along the slit to gather the pre leaking from the head. “Tell me.”

He grunts and ruts up into your touch.

“W-we’d be in your office…working on some…some administrative thing. And I’d watch the way those clever little fingers would fly across your keyboard–ah, fuck–and I’d imagine you leaving your desk a-and settling on your knees between my legs. Lifting my cassock up and palming me through m-my trousers. S-sometimes you’d use your mouth too but…always your hands. Always those s-soft fingers wrapped around me j-just like this. I–oh, cazzo–”

His voice cuts off with a moan as you spit on him once again, the wet slide of your pumping hand and his harsh breathing the only sound in the room. With your other hand you reach down to cup his balls, gently caressing them as you continue to stroke the length of him.

“I-I’m not going to last, amore,” he rasps out, thrusting into your grip, “just like that bellezza mia.”

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, “you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, and I love you just as you are.”

You know the last handful of words will send him over the edge and send him they do, until he’s coming in spurts over your knuckles and gasping your name. You continue to stroke him until he has nothing left to give and when he’s spent, you raise your hand to your face and fastidiously lick every drop of his spend from your fingers as he watches with his mouth hung open. When your tongue passes over your middle finger for the final time he grabs at you, eagerly hauling you up his body and slotting his lips over your mouth in a slow, decadent kiss. When you finally pull away, it’s with a smile and you nudge his nose with yours. Gently, you roll off of him and nuzzle into his side, lazily kissing his shoulder. When he rolls onto his side to face you, you move to do the same but he presses you back down into the mattress.

“Copia, your stamina is impressive but you literally just came I don’t expect–”

He chuckles, gently dragging the bedsheets down to expose your body.

“Your turn, dolcezza.”

“My turn–oh.”

The realization hits you as the fingers of his right hand tease at the underside of your breasts and against your belly, dipping further down to cup at the wet heat of you, driving a gasp from your lips. He leans towards you to inhale deep along your neck, lips ghosting over your hair.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start in praising you, bellezza mia. Sweet - in both disposition and taste, tender in body and heart, beautiful in all ways. Tongue and mind as sharp as a tack and ridiculously amusing. Perfetto–” two of his fingers dip down into your labia majora and you see him smile out of the corner of your eye at how slick you are for him. “My perfect girl. Kind. Perhaps too kind and indulgent to this old man but…” his fingertips circle your clit and your hips spasm, “he will show you just how thankful he is nonetheless, sì?”

You whimper as his fingers tease at your entrance before sliding inside you knuckle deep, palm pressed flush against your clit. An echo of how you would touch yourself to the thought of him not that long ago.

“I’m not wearing my gloves but eh, I hope this will suffice for now?”

Your laugh comes out breathy as he begins to fuck into you at a decadent, leisurely pace, pressing open mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

“I never dreamed at my age I’d find someone like you,” he confesses, “Like you were–like we were made for each other. Every morning and every night I thank Sathanas for bringing you to me, thank you for allowing me to worship you. Anima mia, I adore you so much I wish to devour you. To join our bodies and minds and souls together for eternity and further. I told you before that I love you so much I fear driving you off but…I think we are equally matched in our passions, sì?”

You let out a delighted sigh, spreading your legs further to better accommodate him. It’s nice like this - lazy, unhurried - and he smiles as you clench around him.

“Perfectly matched,” you breathe, meeting the languid thrust of his fingers with the tight circling of your hips, “Copia I am yours in every way - yours to use and fuck and–ah–consume as you please. All yours. Always yours–oh fuck.”

The fervor of your words makes his breathing and his fingers quicken, pumping in and out of you with greater force.

“I would have you all night if you let me,” he growls, his breath hot in your ear, “Say you’ll let me, per favore. Please give me this gift. On my fingers, tongue, cock, it doesn’t matter I need you amore, need to watch you come undone and help mend you back together. Please, I–”

He’s crooked his fingers inside you, pressing against that sweet little spot that makes you whine and cant your hips eagerly. You can feel the tears prick the corners of your eyes and you’re breathless as you nod.

“Copia, please, please, please, need you, need all of you–oh, fuck baby that’s it, don’t stop, don’t–ah!”

Your moan is pitchy and borderline desperate as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. 

“Mine,” he growls, “Solo mio come sono tuo. La mia bellissima ragazza perfetta. Il mio cuore e la mia anima. Il mio riflesso. La mia luce e il mio buio. Per sempre. Mia scellerata benedizione, non ti merito. I love you more than anything. Anything.”

Panting, you blindly reach down to still his hand between your legs and he sobs into your shoulder. Gently, you extricate his fingers from you and bring his hand up to your face, tongue darting out to taste yourself. Tears slide down his cheeks as he watches, entranced, as you suck each finger into your mouth before dragging the muscle up the center of his palm. His eyes are wet and bright, pupils blown as you lean up and place a soft kiss to his lips. When you pull apart, you thumb away the tears remaining on his cheeks and smile softly at him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, sniffling, “I don’t know what got into me, amore, I–”

“This was a lot,” you murmur, reaching up to push the loose strands of hair off his forehead, “but I hope you know how loved you are by me - everything about you, all of it - and that there is no one more beautiful on this planet to me than the man I see before me right now. And I’ll remind you of this again and again and again until the end of days and even further. You are so special to me, Copia. I hope that even for a little bit tonight you got to see yourself through my eyes.”

When he leans forward to place a kiss to your forehead, he’s trembling.

“C’mere,” you say, drawing him into your arms as he drapes his body over you, arm around your waist. The weight of him is solid and comforting as you press kisses to his hair, enveloping yourself in the orange blossom scent of what little remains of his pomade. 

“I promised to ravish you all night,” Copia murmurs, his voice comically muffled by his lips squished against your breast. You snort inelegantly.

“We’ve got many nights ahead of us for that, my love,” you say with a smile, hand stroking along his freckled shoulders, “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. But more importantly - are you alright?”

He pulls away slightly to rest his chin on you.

“I don’t think I have been for a long time,” he says quietly, “Not really, anyway. But ever since you arrived…columba mia, it’s like I have a purpose again.”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to get watery.

“I know exactly what you mean. Exactly. I…I really need to thank Sister Imperator someday for bringing me here, in the end. I mean yeah she had nefarious intentions but…in a roundabout way she kinda helped save my life.”

“Amore, I don’t mean to sound like some kind of eh, Christian but…Sathanas has a plan for us. And it doesn’t involve any of that child bearing bullshit that was being spewed at you…no. He brought us together for a reason and for that I am thankful every day. Thankful every day you did not run screaming from Imperator’s office the day of your interview. Thankful you saw this…peculiar, awkward, old Cardinal…and saw not only a friend but a-a soulmate. I thank Sathanas but like I said earlier - I thank you more. I would forsake my Unholy Father in a heartbeat for you, amore. You are my true religion now. Know that.”

The noise that comes out of you is wet and embarrassing as you cup Copia’s cheek and rest your forehead against his. After a moment of shared breath, you pull away.

“My love, I’m so sorry to ruin the moment but I desperately need to blow my nose.”

He laughs - one of his weird little “ehehe” numbers - and the sound makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Anything for the woman I love,” he announces grandly, leaning over you to grab the box of tissues on the nightstand and present them to you. You pluck one out and hold it to your face while Copia watches fondly from a very close distance.

“Uh, hon?”

“Mmhmm?”

“You might want to back up a little? I don’t trust the integrity of these things and you do not want to be in the splash zone.”

Copia rolls off you making the most revolted noise as you laugh and struggle to breathe through your congested nose. Sitting up, you blow into the tissue while he watches looking supremely disgusted.

“‘Splash zone’,” he grumbles, shaking his head, “Amore, you are not well.”

“Yeah, I think that’s been established in our year of knowing one another. And, I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was speaking to the pinnacle of mental health over here.”

He pinches the meat of your thigh mid-blow and it makes you choke. In retaliation, you throw one of your crumpled, used tissues at him and it bounces off his chest.

“Augh, it’s wet!”

“Duh, that’s my snot,” you chirp pleasantly. “What you don’t like it? What was all that before about how I’m ‘your beautiful, perfect girl’, and ‘your reflection’, and ‘your heart and soul’ and–”

“...You understood all of that?”

You smile.

“Not all of it, but most. I’ve got a pretty impressive Duolingo streak going from all those nights you have confession duty, you know.”

He props himself up on his side and stares at you with a goofy smile.

“Amore mio, I take back my disgust. You could use me as a tissue and I would say thank you.”

That makes a horrible noise come out of you.

“Copia, I’d call you a simp but I think there would be some pot calling the kettle black action going on there so I’ll refrain. Ugh, what a fucking day.”

You gather up your used tissues with the intent of heading to the bathroom with them but Copia turns to you with his hands cupped expectantly. Gently, you smile before depositing them and watching him get up and pad over to the garbage in the other room. When he comes back after washing his hands and climbs into bed, making his delightful old man noises, you grin.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” you murmur as you nestle into his side.

“Indulging you? As if I wasn’t the one getting showered with compliments by a beautiful, nude, young woman?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, trying your best to stifle a yawn. “For hearing me out, for letting me show you how perfect you are to me…all of it. And thank you for the very kind things you said about me in turn. I…will not easily forget that.”

“I certainly hope not but like you, I am prepared to remind you over and over and over of how precious and perfect you are.”

“With fingers, tongue, and cock?” you ask innocently, parroting Copia’s earlier promise. He snorts.

“Dolcezza mia, however you want it.”

“Mmm,” your eyelids are getting heavy as you listen to Copia’s steady breathing, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I would expect nothing less from such a demanding mistress.”

“Oh you haven’t even seen my demanding mistress side yet, beloved.”

He’s got his eyes closed but makes the dirtiest, most intrigued noise you’ve ever heard and it makes butterflies ricochet around in your stomach. His hand trails teasingly up your arm, causing a shiver to roll through you.

“Well, Padrona,” he murmurs, low and enticing, “I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for bed just yet.”

You’re already sitting up with a sigh and straddling his hips for the second time that evening as you say: “Insatiable as always, Your Eminence. Hmm, do I get to wear your grucifix and biretta? Perhaps I’ll get that pretty red rope out too?”

“Oh amore…I insist.”

[charrlote365]

SAND, SEOYEON AND S*X Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE SEOYEON Word Count: 13.077 Tags: Romance, massage, Kpop idol, fromis_9, Lee Seoyeon

As the sun set below the horizon, painting the desert in hues of orange and pink, I couldn't help but dazed at how surreal our honeymoon felt. Here I was, in the middle of nowhere, with Lee Seoyeon, the love of my life and, incidentally, a member of fromis_9. The expansive desert stretched out before us, an endless canvas of dunes that seemed to go on forever.

Seoyeon's laughter echoed through the air, her unique husky voice making the sound even more enchanting as we hiked up yet another sandy hill. Her joy was infectious, "CAMPING, CAMPING, CAMPINGG!!~", she kept singing loudly while jumping around in the sand, and despite the sweat trickling down my back, I felt like the luckiest man alive. Fate indeed works in a mysterious way, who would have thought that our paths would cross like this, leading us to this moment?

"Hey, look at that cactus!" Seoyeon exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a tall, spiky plant standing high amidst the sand. She ran towards it, her oversized white shirts waving around. I jogged to catch up, grinning at her childlike enthusiasm.

"Be careful, babe," I warned playfully. "Those things can be pretty prickly."

She turned back to me, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you afraid of cactus? Just be afraid of me ~, because I can bite! Happp!! hehehe~"

Before I could respond, she stumbled, her foot catching on an unseen rock. Time seemed to slow down as she was falling forward, right onto the cactus. My heart skipped a beat.

"Seoyeon!" I shouted, rushing to her side. She sat up, a look of shock on her face, now adorned with tiny cactus thorns. Despite the situation, she started to giggle, her husky laugh vibrating through the air.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," she said, her laughter bubbling up. I couldn't help but join in, the absurdity of it all hitting us both at once.

"Let's get you back to the hotel," I said, helping her to her feet. "We'll have you de-thorned in no time."

We made our way back, the heat of the day giving way to a cooler evening breeze. Back in our room, the light was soft and warm, casting a comforting glow on Seoyeon's face. She sat on the edge of the bed, still giggling intermittently. I fetched the first aid kit, trying to suppress my own laughter.

"How many staycation stories start with a cactus attack?" I said, sitting beside her with tweezers in hand.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Not many, I bet. But it makes for a great story, don't you think?"

"I do. And it's all part of the adventure," I replied. "Just our little secret."

She smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. "Our secret staycation in the desert. No media, no fans, just us."

I started to gently remove the thorns, one by one. She winced occasionally but kept her spirits high. "Does it hurt?" I asked, pausing to look into her puppy eyes.

"Um, a little," she admitted, her voice sulky. "But it's okay, it's worth it for the memories. Besides, it’s kind of funny. I mean, who else can say they hugged a cactus on their honeymoon?"

"Of course, the great and the only one, Lee, Seoyeon," I replied, chuckling. "You never cease to amaze me."

She giggled, her husky voice making my heart flutter. "You know, this reminds me of that one dream I dreamt few days ago, I tripped and fell into a bush during a festival performance. The fans thought it was part of the choreography."

I laughed, imagining the scene. "So, did you play it off like a pro?"

"Of course, even in my dream I'm still that great dancer of fromis_9" she said with a wink.

I continued to carefully pull out the thorns, the process surprisingly hard. Her laughter made it easier, turning what could have been a painful event into a bonding experience. Occasionally, she would make a funny face, and we would burst into laughter all over again. And for every laugh she does, the more I fell deeper for her.

"You know," she said softly, "I've always been in the spotlight, even in my childhood. My life is always about performing. But now that I'm with you, I can just be myself. Even with a face full of thorns."

I paused, looking at her with nothing but love. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," I said. "You're perfect, even with thorns and all."

She smiled, reaching out her hand to touch my right cheek. "Thank you for always being there, for making even the craziest moments special."

"That's what love is, right?" I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Being there for each other, laughing through the chaos."

By the time I finished, her face was free of thorns, and she looked radiant despite the disaster. We sat there, in our little desert oasis, enjoying the warmth of our love and laughter.

"I need to take a shower," I said, standing up and stretching. "Make sure you don't get into any more cactus-related trouble while I'm gone."

She laughed, her husky voice following me into the bathroom. The warm water felt amazing after the long, adventurous day, and I took my time, savoring the moment of solitude.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I was greeted by a sight that made me burst into laughter. Seoyeon was laying on the bed, her face and upper chest covered in gummy bears made from honey.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked, still chuckling.

She looked up at me with her silly face. "Honey is supposed to be good for healing scars, right? So I thought these gummy bears might help." She explained playfully.

I couldn't stop laughing. "You do know you look like a walking candy store right?? Come here, you."

I got on the top of her and slowly picking off the gummy bears one by one, popping each one into my mouth. She squealed in mock protest, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Yaaa..Stop eating my medicine!" she scolded jokingly, swatting at my hands.

"But they taste so good," I replied, grinning. "And besides, you're already healing. Laughter is the best medicine, remember?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "You're just the worst."

"And you love that about me right," I said while leaning myself down to kiss her. Despite of her small face, her lips are rather thick, they wrap my lips like a warm blanket, our saliva mixed all together and it tasted like honey thanks to the gummy bears I just ate. Our tongues were slipping against each other like they're going to melt to be one. I then stopped and walked away from her, she was wondering why I didn't continue. "Where are you going? Let's continue, I still need your love to heal, you know?" She lamented.

"Yes, mam! wait a minute, I have something you will like", I said as I reached into the first aid kit bag again, this time pulling out a small bottle of essential oil. "You know what this is right?," I asked, pouring a few drops onto my fingertips. Massaging her body with oil has been our routines. She loves it when her body is sticky with oil and when I rub her body, she always squeals and giggles.

She raised an eyebrow, Pretending not to know. "What's that? I know nothing about that, I'm innocent, officer", while trying to avoid eye contact with me.

Ignoring her respond, I started to take off her white shirts and bra. I could see her breasts which upper part filled with bruises and scars from the thorns, and also red line mark on her shoulders from her bra straps. I poured some oil onto her body and gently dabbed the oil gently on her shoulder where the thorns had left small marks. She shivered slightly at the touch, a giggle escaping her lips.

"That tickles," she said, her voice husky and playful.

"Sorry," I said, grinning. "I'll be gentle." I continued rubbing the oil to her neck and her face cheeks. Looking at her silly face up close which now filled with some scars and bruises from the fall, I couldn't stop myself to kiss her lips again, wanting her to know that I will take care of her from now on, no matter what. I closed my eyes slightly and used my lips to rub over the oil on her scars slowly, she felt ticklish yet aroused from all the kissing and started hugging me tight. Her breasts pressed against mine so tightly that I could feel her heart beat getting faster.

"This feels nice," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," I replied, my heart swelling with love for this incredible woman.

I continued rubbing her body with my lips. I kissed her nips which laced by oil, and rubbed the other nip with my finger. She let out a little moan. Her breath is getting uncontrollable and she started biting her finger. Her eyes were locked on me, they're filled with trust, love, excitement and lust. Just looking at her expression made me filled with pleasure.

I sneaked my right hand into her pants and started rubbing her pussy. I could feel sticky substance already soaked her underpants. I licked my finger that's laced by her love juice and put it back inside her. She shouted as 2 fingers in were too much for her.

"Ups! Sorry. We just started and you're already soaked, Seoyeon-ah." I teased her.

"Shii.. just be quiet and get it over with, I'm still in pain, you know..", she replied with pouty mouth on her face.

I stood up and removed my bathing robe, letting them drop to the floor. I went back on the bed and slowly took off her jeans. She couldn't say anything as her heart beat faster, knowing what's going to happen next.

I raised her legs up and opened them wide. I could see her pussy bare open and I couldn't hold myself to suck and bite her clits slightly hard. She was surprised by it that she screamed so loudly I was afraid people in the next room might hear us. Luckily, I realized no one's gonna hear us since we're in a hotel that's close to be nowhere on the map and she continued to moan loudly. I continued licking her pussy like I was a cat licking butter and put my middle finger into her pussy. Her pussy neck is so short that I could feel her womb gate with just my finger. I teased her womb by squeezing them inside and she started pulled my hair yelling how good it felt. I kept teasing her womb and I could feel her pussy wall suddenly got tight as she arched her back and sprayed her love juice all over my face and the bed.

As if it wasn't enough I put 2 fingers back into her and rubbing the upper part of her pussy, teasing her g-spot with every thrust. She felt her high coming again and within seconds she reached her climax for the second time and her body shuddered roughly. I licked and sucked her pussy to clean it from her love juice, including the thick, white liquid oozing from her that tasted like cheese, my favorite delicacy. lmao.

"Hmm, your pussy is so tasty", I teased her while she was still gasping for air from her second orgasm. Yet suddenly, right after she stopped, she raised up and gripped my hard rock penis. "Ouch!", I yelled as I didn't expect her move. "Now it's my payback", Seoyeon said while looking at me with sharp gaze after what I just did to her. She suddenly bit my penis tip hard making my knees weak and I shouted "Yahh! Seoyeon-ah!! Please be gentle!".

"Just be quiet and man up", she replied with a little giggle. She then sucked my dick like its a boba drink that she likes. Every suck feels like my soul getting suck into her mouth. My penis barely fit to her small mouth that it felt as tight as her pussy. Her mouth walls wrapped my dick with its warm, wet and intensely. Slowly but sure, I feel the tickling sensation turned into ecstasy, my head's got lighter and just like that I spurted my sperm inside her mouth. I grip her head and push it closer and deeper into my crotch as I went high up to heaven. My sperm flowed so much that it started to spill on the bed. She then opened her mouth to show how much sperm I just unloaded roughly into her tiny mouth.

"Wait, lemme get the tiss..", but before I could even finish my words she replied "I already drank it", with her giggle and husky voice, delightly. Aftermath was a mess with our bed was wet, stained with our body fluid. We quickly cleaned them up as we didn't want to be fined by the hotel and even used the hair dryer to dry it up quickly. It was so tiring, that still naked, we lay down on the bed, with no energy left in us.

As we laying side by side, facing each other closely, we leaned in for another kiss, I felt the warmth of her breath against my lips, mingling with the sweetness of the honey and the floral scent of the oil. The room was filled with the scent of the desert, a blend of flower oils and our fluids, lingering reminders of our wild day. Her eyes, shining with love and amusement, held mine as we shared this intimate moment.

Cuddling her close, I whispered, "I can't wait to see what other crazy adventures we'll have."

She smiled, her husky voice soft in my ear. "As long as we're together, I'm ready for anything."

And as we kissed, sealing our promise, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, with laughter, love, and a spirit of adventure that would see us through anything. In that moment, our secret honeymoon in the desert felt like the most perfect beginning to the rest of our lives.

[luminoustarlight]

As Fate Would Have It | DILF!Anakin Skywalker

Anakin Skywalker gets a new assistant, who also happens to be his favorite OnlyFans performer.

◂ previous ▸ chapter two

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: modern!au, undisclosed age gap, SMUT [use of toys (dildo and fleshlight), mutual masturbation, squirting, watching of pornography]

After midnight is Anakin’s favorite time of the day. His kids have been asleep since 8:30 pm— their weekday curfew— and he’s finally stopped working on the project he brought home from work. It kept him from watching 101 Dalmatians with Luke and Leia but “it needed to be done.” 

He completed it well after the twins went to sleep, his neck was aching, and he needed to unwind. Now, he’s settled on the left side of his king bed, back propped against the headboard and his tablet waiting for him on the nightstand. He’s been thinking about this all day. Ever since he got the notification at 1:48 p.m. that HoneySuckle uploaded a new video. 

While he was at work. On a very busy day, he might add. As much as he wanted to get away to watch it immediately, he couldn’t. But now he has uninterrupted time to enjoy himself and the woman he’s about to watch. 

Anakin watches HoneySuckle exclusively. For over three years now, he has been subscribed to her page for $7.99 a month, which is an absolute disgrace to the quality of content she puts out. That’s why he tips her at least $200 for each video. It’s a number that hardly means a thing to Anakin. But to HoneySuckle, it is everything. It’s a cushion for incidentals. For the flat tire on her Mini Cooper. The vet bill for her orange tabby, Panini. She has expressed her thanks to him in their private messages, but it never seems to be enough. 

Their casual conversations are never enough. 

It comes as a great surprise to Anakin to see that her newest video is dedicated to him. Him— Anakin Skywalker AKA skyguy81. AKA HoneySuckle’s biggest fan and number one supporter. 

Squirting for Sky 🖤

He’s never clicked on anything faster in his life. The edges of his brain are beginning to fog. The mere thought of Honey getting off to the thought of him makes goosebumps prickle along his skin and his cock begin to swell. But then he sees what she’s wearing. Or, not wearing for that matter. Usually, she’ll begin videos with a full set on. Whether it’s a lacy bra and panties, a teddy, or a babydoll, teasingly taking off her lingerie is part of her brand. 

Not in this video, though. In this new 23 minute video, she is wearing a black garter and thong with roses embroidered in the mesh along her hip bones. Sheer black stockings are pulled up to her thighs and as she spreads her legs— dear God— Anakin sees that her panties are crotchless. 

Every video is expertly angled so only the bottom half of her face is on camera. She’s mentioned to Anakin in the past that this is not her full time job and therefore some anonymity is important. He doesn’t need to see her whole face to know she is beautiful. 

“I bought this just for you,” Honey says directly to Anakin. “You said you liked black. I hope you like this.”  She goes to grab the vibrator next to the pink dildo on her bed. 

“I love it,” Anakin mumbles. Running her hand over one of her bare breasts, she turns on the vibrator. The familiar hum of the toy reminds Anakin to put on his headphones. Just in case. 

Now with that taken care of, Anakin can begin taking care of himself. It doesn’t take long for the guy to get hard when he’s watching Honey. Hell, he can just think about her and he’ll be horny. The melodic cadence to her voice, the angelic sounds she makes when she cums, the lustful desire to bury himself in her cunt. She is the only woman he has desired since his wife and he doesn’t even know her name. But he knows the curves of her body as if he’s felt them with his own two hands. God, how he wishes he could touch her, kiss her, pleasure her. 

It’s pathetic. He is pathetic for wanting the impossible. Anakin Skywalker is a smart man. A genius in many regards. Yet he’s delusional enough to think her messages might mean something. That this video dedicated to him means something.

Of course, it doesn’t. Everything about his conversations with Honey is transactional. It’s part of her job. That’s it. Nothing more. You’re not special. 

But fuck, does it make his cock hard thinking this is all for him. Well, this is for him. The title of the video says so. With her legs spread nice and wide, Anakin can see how wet she has become from the vibrator on her clit. 

Stiff and dribbling precum on his belly, Anakin wraps his long fingers around his equally long shaft. He swipes his palm over the tip to lubricate the rest of his dick. Honey has now turned off the vibrator and grabs the dildo. Despite its playful color, it’s a formidable size. A similar 7 inches to Anakin’s cock, she opens her mouth and the tip disappears. Then a little bit more… and a little more… until she’s gagging. She pulls it out of her mouth with a loud gasp. Messy strings of saliva fall on her chin and chest. 

“Fuck,” she breathes. “I love choking on your cock. Feeling it so deep in my throat until I can’t breathe.” 

This sends a jolt through Anakin’s whole body. His cock lurches in his hand and he knows all too well that his hand will simply not suffice tonight. He pauses Honey’s video and reluctantly gets off of bed to retrieve his Fleshlight from his hidden stash in the closet. Usually, his hand does just fine. He’s used to it by now. Being a single dad in his early forties and the CEO of his own company, he doesn’t have time to go on dates. He has one woman on his rolodex of hookup numbers and even then, he doesn’t contact her often. Usually it’s her who needs him. He prefers it that way, anyway. 

Anakin returns to his bed with the barely used Fleshlight in hand and immediately resumes the video. Honey continues to give the dildo a blowjob, making Anakin ache for it to be his cock in her mouth. He can only imagine how warm it is. How he’d make her relax so he can shove his entire length down her throat. How she’d sound choking on his dick and not some pink toy. 

Again, she holds it in her mouth until her lungs are screaming for air. Anakin ruts his hips up into his fist. He’s waiting to use the Fleshlight until she puts the toy in her cunt. 

Which is right now. She lines the tip of it to her opening, pushing the head in teasingly before removing it and dragging it along her folds. 

“Have you been good today? Do you deserve to fuck me?” The seductive nature of Honey’s voice is so familiar to Anakin, yet every time dirty talk drips from her lips, his spine tingles. 

“Please, Honey,” Anakin whispers, hovering the opening of the Fleshlight over his cock. “Put it in, baby.”

As if obeying his command, Honey pushes the toy into her hole. At the same time, Anakin lowers his own toy onto himself. The tight Fleshlight sucks in his dick and it damn near has Anakin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’d forgotten what it feels like… how similar yet different it is to real pussy. Fuck, what he would do to have his cock in Honey’s actual cunt. The best he can do is use his overactive imagination. 

Honey is thrusting the dildo in and out of her and soft moans fill Anakin’s ears. He yanks the Fleshlight up and down—a lazy way of using it, he knows— but it does the job. “That’s it…” he breathes. His heartbeat is racing impossibly fast, chasing down an orgasm that is going to arrive far too soon. “I fuck you so well, don’t I, Honey?” 

“Mm…” she whimpers, pushing the toy deeper and further into her.  “Your cock’s so big… fills me up so well. Feels so good!” 

“You have no idea how good I could make you feel,” Anakin growls. In his mind she’s on her back, just as she is now. Her knees are pushed up to her ears and Anakin is thrusting into her tight hole to no end. He’s so deep, he can see himself in her stomach. He kisses her, finally tasting her on his own lips. Their tongues are doing a dance, his fingers are on her clit for maximum pleasure. And she’s screaming his name. She can’t believe how good he fucks. How he, at 42 years old, can last as long as he has. “I’m not fucking geriatric,” he’d say. He’d make her cum at least twice before he does, just to prove a point. 

Honey then takes the dildo out of her cunt and brings it back up to her mouth. Anakin removes the Fleshlight. She hollows her cheeks around it whilst reaching for the vibrator. She turns it back on and returns it to her clit. Her toes curl at the sensation and a moan is muffled by the cock in her mouth. 

“Let me hear you,” Anakin encourages, no matter how silly and pointless it is to do so. “Please, Honey. I love hearing you moan.” 

She takes the dildo out of her mouth to announce that she’s going to cum. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” 

She’s squirming on the bed, mouth shaped in that glorious ‘O’. As her orgasm rattles through her body, she keeps the vibrator on her swollen nub and returns the dildo to her pussy. Anakin follows suit and sheathes his cock once again, thrusting his hips up to the speed Honey is fucking herself. 

“I hope you…fuck, that feels good,” she is interrupted by her own pleasure. It’s her authenticity that Anakin adores and enjoys the most. It never feels like she’s performing. “I hope you’re making yourself feel as good as I feel. Are you fucking your hand? Your mattress? A pillow? I bet you wish you were in my tight cunt. Don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Anakin breathes. He is on fire now. He’s not sure the coil in his belly could get any tighter. He’s going to cum soon and Honey hasn’t even squirted yet. There’s five minutes left of the video. “You wouldn’t believe—ah, fucking hell— wouldn’t believe how badly I want to fuck you.” 

“I’m gonna squirt! Oh my God…please cum for me. Cum while I squirt for you!” Honey removes the dildo as the clear liquid sprays from her cunt. Anakin abandons the Fleshlight and takes over with his tried and true hand. He’s pumping quickly, he’s mesmerized by Honey and how she squirts a little more each time she puts the dildo back inside of her and pulls it back out. Her back is arching off of the bed as she drops both toys and cums one last time. 

Anakin is cumming now, too. His sack twitches up toward him while he releases his load on his belly. He stuffs a fist into his mouth to silence his moan. He bites down on his own hand with fervor, and it hurts. He isn’t completely finished when he hears her utter the words ‘last video.’ 

Wait, what? 

He needs to go back. Surely, he didn’t hear her correctly. 

“I hope you all enjoyed yourselves while watching. I know I did. This is a bit of a last hurrah for me. I’m starting a new job next week and I just don’t think I’ll have the time to upload, so this might be my last video. Thank you for all of the support over the last three years. I had a great time. Kisses, HoneySuckle.” 

And that’s the end of it. Anakin is stunned. He watches her video again. And then once more. There's a lilt to her voice that makes Anakin think she is happy to be done with this. He should be happy for her. But he hangs onto the word ‘might’.  

Honey said this might be her last video. Anakin shouldn’t feel so fucking relieved that his favorite OnlyFans performer might still upload videos. What is wrong with him? He has no real connection to her whatsoever yet he feels disappointed by the idea of not having her videos in his life anymore. 

Fuck it. He sends her a $500 tip, a little message and goes to wash up. 

.

.

.

Panini is pressed against your side, purring contentedly while you stroke his back absently. You’re wrapped in a sherpa cozy in bed while watching The Great British Bake Off. It’s your bedtime show. You’ve probably seen every series at least 3 times, simply because it’s the show you put on to go to sleep. But most of the time, you end up staying up to watch it as if you’ve never seen it before. 

Your phone lights up with a notification. You glance at it but immediately do a double take. You grab your phone off of your nightstand and stare at the screen with your jaw dropped. 

Skyguy81 sent you a tip!

$500

You pause in the middle of Prue Leith giving her thoughts on someone’s Showstopper. You swipe right to open the message.

That was spectacular, Honey. From the lingerie to the beautiful way you cum. You certainly know how to put on a show. I must admit, I was a bit disappointed to hear that it might be your last video. You are the only performer I watch. I will miss you. I wish you the best of luck with your new endeavor. 

And I know what you are going to say. “It’s too much.” It is not. Please accept the tip as a token of my appreciation. You helped me feel less lonely on the days I needed someone the most. - Sky 

Why do you feel like you’re about to cry? Sky has been your top supporter since you began uploading videos during COVID. It was just supposed to be a way to make ends meet. To pay off the student loans and any other financials that came up. The tips started off relatively small. $50 here, $75 there. He was the first to give you a $100 tip. 

Then, after about a year, he upped it to $200 after each video. Your thank you messages to him turned into conversations. Short ones, never deep or personal, yet you feel like you know him. You feel like…no, it’s silly. You feel like he could be a friend. If you both weren’t hiding behind a screen and fake names, maybe you actually could be. 

You begin typing a response. 

Sky- I am going to say it anyway. THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH!!! You have been far too generous to me over the years. I don’t deserve it. 

 He replies in a matter of seconds. 

I have to disagree, Honey. I wish I could do more for you. 

Like what? 

I would take you out to a nice dinner. Perhaps share a bottle of wine while we get to know each other. 

Would you take me home after?

Whose home? 

Whichever you’d like. 

I’d take you back to your house and leave you with a goodnight kiss.

That’s all? 

You would like more? 

What the hell are you doing? Are you actually flirting with this man? He could be 60 years old and bald! Not that there’s anything wrong with being 60 or bald, but come on. You’re in your 20s. You have to have some limit. You stare at his username. Skyguy81. Maybe 81 is his birth year? So, that would put him at 42. 42 isn’t too bad… 

Oh, what the hell. It’s not like you’re actually gonna meet this guy, right? 

Well, I might wear something special underneath my dress. Something that I paid for with the money you’ve given me. Wouldn’t you want to see it? 

Yes. I would. 

What would you do if you took me home? 

When you don’t hear back from Sky after thirty minutes, you assume he fell asleep. It is nearly 1 a.m. on a Thursday night. Or is it early Friday morning? Regardless, he probably has work in the morning. 

With a rather loud yawn, you decide it’s time for you to go to sleep, too. 

.

.

.

Luke and Leia barge into Anakin’s room at 7:30, dressed and ready to go to school while their dad is still fast asleep. He must have slept through his alarm. Luke is poking him in the side and urging him to wake up. 

“Alright, I’m up,” he grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Have you two eaten?” 

Leia nods. “Eggos and orange juice.” 

“I wanted a Toaster Strudel,” Luke says. 

“And I told him we don’t have any Toaster Strudels,” replies his twin sister. 

“Yes we do! You just didn’t look hard enough.” 

Anakin pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels a headache coming on. He didn’t drink last night, so why does he feel hungover? “Ahsoka ate the last one when she was here on Tuesday, remember?” 

“Oh yeah,” Luke recalls. 

“Dad, we’re gonna be late for school if you don’t get out of bed,” Leia says. 

Anakin checks the time on his phone. Your message from last night is at the bottom of his notifications. He already has five work emails to answer. His calendar pings with reminders about meetings and his assistant’s retirement party. “Bring your things to the front door. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

In the rush of getting himself dressed, not only does he put on two different pairs of socks but two different pairs of shoes, too. He doesn’t realize this until after he enters the office and Dorothy, attentive as ever, points it out as he’s walking past her desk and into his office. 

Dorothy is 74 years old, a widow, and owl fanatic. She has been Anakin’s assistant since he started the company 20 years ago. “Did you get dressed in the dark, Mr. Skywalker?” 

Even after two decades of Anakin’s insistence on calling him by his first name, Dorothy continues to defy him. “I overslept,” Anakin answers. “I was rushing to get ready because you know how Leia gets when she’s late to anything.” 

Dorothy nods. “Yes, she is the most punctual 9 year old I know. I presume you did not eat breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.” Anakin opens his emails. 

“Why don’t I get you an egg sandwich from Dexter’s after I retrieve a matching pair to one of your shoes.” 

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to.” 

Anakin cracks a smile. Dorothy has always been two steps ahead of Anakin. She’s been somewhat of a mother figure to him over the years. She believed in him when no one else did. How many people are going to put their faith in a cocky 22 year old with wild engineering innovations? Dorothy was there when his wife passed away and nannied the twins off and on for a few years while Anakin regained his bearings. His heart contracts. He is truly going to miss her. “Do you have to retire, Dorothy?” 

“I’m afraid so,” Dorothy replies with a bittersweet smile. “You will be just fine. And I trust my successor will attend to your needs just as well as I have. I picked her myself. I know exactly what you need in an assistant, Mr. Skywalker.” 

Did Dorothy just wink at Anakin before leaving his office? What the hell does she have up her sleeve? 

.

.

.

Gold and brown leaves dance across the concrete in the courtyard of Skywalker Enterprises. The autumn air bites at your cheeks and you’re thankful you decided to wear a beanie along with your plaid pea coat. 

You notice Dorothy’s silver hair before the rest of her as she walks toward you with two cups of something hot in her hands. “Good morning, Y/N.” she hands you the cup. 

“Good morning, Dorothy,” you reply with a smile. You lift off the lid to smell the contents. The steam tickles your nose before recognizing the warm spices of Chai. “You remembered my drink order?” 

“Of course.” Dorothy sits across from you. “I trust you went over the files I sent you regarding Mr. Skywalker? How are you feeling about the job?” 

You take a meager sip of your Chai latte. It’s still too hot to drink. “I read all of them at least three times. He doesn’t seem too high maintenance.”

“Far from it,” Dorothy replies. 

“But…” you begin, wondering if you should even mention it. 

“What is it, dear?” 

“I just find it a little strange that I haven’t met him. I would’ve assumed he’d be part of the hiring process. Isn’t it important we get along?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anakin gets along with everyone! He’s a charmer,” Dorothy sips on her drink. “He entrusted me with finding a replacement for myself because I know him better than anyone. I know his needs better than he knows them. And you, my dear, have shown you are more than capable to take over. Your references spoke very highly of you.” 

Right. Your references— one of which was your best friend who pretended to be a famous influencer who you “assisted” for 2 years after college. The other was a family you nannied for for only 2 weeks while the wife was out of town and the dad thought he could pull off some fantasy of fucking the nanny. The only good thing that came out of it was him telling you he’d give you a stellar reference for your next job. Turns out he wasn’t lying. 

“So, I’ll start on Monday? By myself? No shadowing or anything?” 

Dorothy nods. “I will officially be retired by 5 p.m. today. After which, Mr. Skywalker is yours.”

Don’t you wish. You’ve seen photos of him in Forbes. It’s an understatement to say he’s handsome. And it would be a lie to say you didn’t apply for the job because of his looks. By some miracle you were chosen out of hundreds of applicants and hired. You’ve signed the papers already. You’re officially on the Skywalker Enterprises payroll. Of course, you’ll be on probation for 90 days but Dorothy seems confident you’ll be a good fit. 

Hopefully you will live up to Anakin Skywalker’s expectations.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter two

[grugruel]

Movement

Pairings: mob!bucky x undercover!f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Working undercover wasn't what you had expected. Dancing at events was, privately entertaining the boss wasn't. Your story climaxes tonight, leaving Bucky cuffed to a bed and you bent over a windowsill.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: pinv sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism ish?, choking, edging, creampie, thigh-riding ish, fingering.

AN: Not edited yet! Got a dirty dancing vibe from nowhere, so I ran with it. Yall will notice. Please do comment your thoughts! It really motivates me :)

I look around me, gaze drifting over the crowd. My eyes meeting a particular set, catching him staring. I turn my head away, and all of a sudden. Everything, was for him.

Every move, every sway, every sweep of my arms and rock of my hips. I did to his liking, for his approval.

The music blurred around me, so lost in the moment. . .

A soft purple light shone down upon me, giving everything an intimate glow. Illuminating my body and making my long dark dress sparkle, while casting shadows around me. Bulging and dipping, the candlelit chandelier had the darkness join me in dance. So private, yet so open. The hundreds of people slowly whirling over the dancefloor disappeared from my mind, and in its stead, only he was left. My eyes locked with his as a slim path cleared between us, the bodies of couples molding to eachother incidentally moved out of the way.

I smiled, daring him. Curling my finger, motioning for him to join me. Like a bird of paradise, I moved to impress. I moved with the rhythm of the music, brushing my knuckles over my abdomen, trailing all the way up along my torso, over the tip of my breasts and dip of my neck. My fingers messily burrying themselves in my hair, running along my scalp, hair matching the movement of my body.

Hungry eyes devouvered me, but his was the only ones I cared for. Transfixed, he moved forward, pushing people out of the way. Shouldering them to the side as he walked toward the stage, toward me. Theres was no time for curtesy, no time for clients or associates stopping to shake his hand. He waved them away, eyes never leaving me.

This had been our routine since he hired me a few months back, and unfortunately. I'd lie if I said I didn't like it, it had become personal. Even though I told myself it was just for the mission.

But this was not a game I'd let him win. Stepping off of the stage, I dove into the masses. Blending in, and dissapearing.

I, along with some other girls were the entertainment for the night. A ball James hosted every year, in attendance was only the richest and dirtiest.

Static crackled on my ear, 'Back-up on standby. .' The voice spoke as I walked toward the bar.

I was about to answer, when somebody grabbed me–

A yelp esacped me as a hand enveloped my bicep. Gripping it tightly, immidietly pulling me backward. I didnt have to look to know who it was. He'd caught me, but I couldn't avoid those beautiful blues. My eyes meet with the familiarity, they smile, and I mimic.

'Just say the word. . .' The voice came stressed, their eyes on the unfolding scene.

But I carefully raised my shoulder to my ear, playing it off as a scratch, and turned the device off. In the same moment, the music swithces from classical to something more intimate, and the room heats. Couples move from swaying together to moving against eachother, grinding smoothly to the body of the other.

With a smile, his hand slides from my bicep into my own and he pulls me back onto the grand, marbled dance floor. In a flurry of bodies, he yanks me against him. I collide with his chest and throw my arms around his shoulders in the motion. We match our movements to the others as his thigh slides between my legs, supporting me as I grind onto him. The slit in my dress exposing my thinly clothed core to his thick thigh, I bite my lip at the feeling.

Our acts disguised as nothing more than intimate dance.

The music thumps lowly, the vibrations caressing my skin deliciously as he ruts his hips against my own. My hands intertwine behind his neck and our faces come an inch apart, our heavy breaths symphonising with eachother. 'Missed you. . .' He murmurs against me.

I hum, biting my lip as a smile tugs on the corner of my mouth, 'Prove it to me, James.' And a particularly good grind treats me well, making a whimper leave me.

He grunts, capturing my bottom lip in a bite, gently tugging on it.Then speaks through clenched teeth, 'It'd be my pleasure doll.' And grabs my hand again, pulling me into the massive halls of his manor.

A few minuters later, after following dimly lit, large wood paneled walls, we arrive at his room. Like so may times before, his guards stop by the door, standing by.

Kissing we stumbled inside, the guards didnt even bat an eye, so used to this by now. The music from the ballroom dampened as the door slammed shut behind us and Buckys dark, big bedroom welcomed us. His hand glide from my hand to my waist, holding me as he backed up toward the bed. Falling back, he circled his arms around my back. Pulling me closer, he rested his chin against my abdomen, never taking his eyes from mine, big and wanting. He kissed me up my stumache to center of my chest, I sighed happily as my knuckles caressed his cheek. Eventually coming to rest in his hair, combing through it gently. Appreciatively, he hummed, kissing me more. I leaned down, met his lips– and pushed him backward.

With a swift thud and the sound of springing feathers, he hit the mattress, his body shifting back and up against the headboard. Prowling, I crawled on top of him. Stradeling his lap, I unbuttoned his blazer and shirt while sitting on his hard member. I took his hands in mine and led them to the headboard. Meanwhile, I leaned into him, my lips brushing over his. A millisecond before they met, my hands slid to his wrists and–

Doubble "Click"s sounded out.

Opening his eyes, 'Tell me this is a part of it.' He whispered against my lips, the slightest growl to the voice. I shook my head, and sat back on his lap before he lunged for me. But as predicted- he didnt get far. Hands locked in cuffs around two bars of his headboard. I laughed, 'I could lie, but it wouldn't be the first time.' And rocked my hips against his clothed member, humming from the friction his pants and my dress created. He hissed, eyes boring into mine, filled with a burning hatred as his breathing turned heavy, burdened with a long-standing lust.

Sighing mournfully, 'We could continue this thing of ours you know, still have some fun.' I hummed, taking his chin between my fingers to look at him. But he jerked his face from my grup, hands straining against the cuffs, rattling them, then lunged forward again.

I pulled back, 'Ooh-' and mocked, pretence fear lining my body language as I crawled backward and slipped to my feet at the foot of the bed. 'I can still take care of that for ya'.' I nodded toward his erection, a huge hill bulging in his pants.

He huffed and looked away.

I cocked an eyebrow and turned around, walking toward his desk, 'You underestimate me James, I've had you fooled for a long time.'

Chuckling, he answered 'Fooled? I've had you on your knees for just as long, doll.' He worked the cuffs, testing the strength of the bars.

Annoyance bubbled up inside me, 'And what about all the times you've begged me for a taste? Its laughable.'

'Yeah?' He laughed, 'And you begging me to fuck you isnt?'

My cheeks burned hot, needles of irritation pricking my skin. When I got an idea, something to. . . Give back, or get back. Whichever. 'We both knew this wouldnt last.' I said curtly, walking around his desk, riffling through it.

He nodded slowly, 'Didn't think you'd have the stumache to turn me in, still think you don't.'

I huffed, 'Yeah?' Pulling out a particular set of documents, the ones I needed to put him in his place, and held them up for him to see.

'Yeah.' His eyes narrowed on the papers.

I browsed through it, then met his eyes with a smirk, 'Fascinating.' I jerked my eyebrows upward in challenge.

'You wouldnt.'

'I would.' And nudged my earpiece again, 'I got them.'

He shook his head, dissapointment ruining his beautiful features. It stung, It really did. I didn't want to hurt him. Fuck, I really did care for him.

Static, 'Copy, extraction team will meet you at the edge of the property.' At that I turned it off again, everything wasn't for them to hear.

I walked up to him, his gaze followed my every step. Although mad, he didnt want to forget me. Furiously, he studied my curves, intent on not forgetting.

'How come you've not called your guards?' I asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him, tracing a finger along his abs, observing the way his skin grew goosebumps.

'I wouldnt stoop that low.' He jabbed, the pain in my chest might as well have come from the tip of a knife, his knife.

I cleared my throat, 'Well. . . As I said–' my hand slipped downward, '–I could do you a kindness, and take care of this for you.' I whispered, cupping his bulge, 'Maybe set a start to my making up to you.'

'Fuck.' He groaned, bucking into my touch. Closing his eyes, he shook his head again.

'No?' I retracted my hand, my dress strap slipping as I did so. Revealing a tad more of my chest, his eyes opened, and stared. I quirked an eyebrow, and he met my eyes. Pleading. Silently, we understood eachother. We felt what we could not say because of who we were.

I smiled, working my shoulder to let the strap slip further. Revealing my breast, nipple turning hard from the cool air. He sighed, eyes turning soft with adoration. I stood and backed up, and he leaned forward to follow me. But cuffs yanked him back, resteaining him. A glint of annoyance sparked in his admiring eyes. At this, I smiled again. Wicked this time. I walked over to the desk, jumping up on it with a hop and crossing my legs.

'How often will you think back on our memories together?' I ask coyly, a finger trailing up my leg through the slit of my dress.

'More than I do now.' He answered, voice gruff. Pain and lust adorning it.

His response pleased me deeply, I uncrossed my legs and spread them wider. Wide enough to catch a glimpse of my lingerie. At the sight, he yanked the cuffs, desperation taking hold of him. His breathing turning heavy, his eyes on the prize. My fingers slide under the skirt of my dress, folding it over my other leg. Hands moving toward my core. He grunts, spurring me on. The sight of him making my core ache, cuffed, animalistic and depraved. For a second, I toyed with the thought of releasing him. Closing my eyes, I imagined the way he would make my body ache in all the ways it craved. I hummed as a finger reached my panties, sliding up and down my clothed slit. All the while Bucky huffed and puffed, only contributing to my illusions. His member was probably straining uncomfortably against his pants by now. I bit my lip, a finger slipping under the fabric, into my core. Instantly drenched in my juices, I heard a whimper, and opened my eyes.

On the bed infront of me, he'd managed to get onto his knees, arms extended behind him, held by the cuffs, keeping him from falling face first. His mouth agape, panting desperatley as he watched me.

I pushed another finger inside, then another. He bit his lip to muffle another whimper, licking them furiously.

Thrusting gently, I curled them into my special spot. Moaning, as his whimpers spurred me on. Pushing me over the edge in a few short moments, I hummed. Trying to stay relatively quiet.

'Gonna beg me for a taste again?' I asked, and he nodded enthusiastically, 'I could sit on your face for you.' And at that, his eyes filled with hope, but my wicked smile returned, letting him know he would't get that lucky.

I stood, dress falling back into place, breast still exposed. Sautering over to him, then got on my kneeson the bed infront of him. Holding my fingers out to him, slick with my arousal. Greedily, he took them into his mouth, lapping and sucking at every ounce of my juice, hungrily moaning all the while. I pulled my fingers back, and he whimpered at the loss. Seding pulses through my body, his eyes roamed over me as I kneeled infront of him, gaze landing on my breast, 'Can I? Please?' He asked, eyebrows furrowing. I nodded, and in a second his mouth closed around my breast, sucking it into his mouth. Humming, I sighed, enjoying it while it lasted. With one hand holding the folder, I ran the other through his hair, scratching his scalp, 'Such a good boy.' I whispered, and he moaned a hot breath against me, 'The great James Barnes, falling apart by a woman's–' I began, but suddenly, he bit my nipple, making me yelp and pull back.

'Youre not just any woman.' He said, a devilish quirk to his lips.

I sighed, but the lip of my corner tugged as I turned around. Pulling my strap up, I made my way toward the fogged up window and opened it. Cool, damp air flooded inside, chilling me pleasantly as I wathched the view overlooking the gardens.

Before I could make my escape, I turned around to look at him one last time. However, not liking what I was met with.

Pulling himself back, he wrapped his hands around the bars and yanked–

To my horror, one of the two came loose with a worrying clang, making him fall forward.

I'd teased him to much for my own good. 'James, lets just-' I began, and his eyes snapped to mine, then he began yanking on the other. Hunger melting together with anger in his features.

A chill ran down my spine as I threw one leg over the windowsill in a hurried motion, then the sound of a second clang rang out.

Terror grabbed hold of me as I threw my other leg over the sill and jumped–

Bit his hands grabbed my waist, lifting me back inside and pulling me to his chest. The warmth against my back contrasting the cool of my front, horror and excitement washed over me, anticipation leading.

One arm squeezed me as the other slid downward, then he leveled his head with mine, his nose nuzzling my temple, and lips gracing my cheekbone as he spoke, 'How about we make a new memory?' He breathed, I could hear the smile shaping his lips. The hand headed downward slipped through the slit of my dress and cupped my cunt, making a pained moan escape me.

He kissed my cheekbone and bit my earlobe, tugging on it slightly. Then put pressure on my mound with a harsh yank, pulling me even closer against him. A mix of a hiss and a whimper leave my lips as my ass tucks snuggly into his crotch, his hard member pressing up against me. His mouth slips to my neck, 'Your fault.' voice muffled by skin, 'You fix it.'

A shattered hum in agreement came from my lips as he began rubbing his hand up and down in rough movements, the warmth from the friction was enough to send pulses of heat through every nerve in my body. He walked us forward as his fingers coverd every inch of my cunt, teasing my core, digits sliding between my slits, and palm rubbing into my clit, his hand getting more and more slick by the second. As if locked in dance, our hips move together, matching rythms. I grind against his hand as he ruts his crotch against my ass, the very hard member recieving long anticipated friction.

We collpase as he slips to his knees, pulling me down with him.

Suddenly, two of his fingers slip inside of me, setting a quick thrusting pace. He sinks his teeth into my neck, biting and sucking, and a scream threaten me as the coil tightens in the pit of my stumache. His other hand move to my back and bends me over the windowsill.

I rest my forearms against the hard wood for support, and just as the blinding pleasure is about to unfold, his fingers retreat. Pulling out of me with a slick sound, I release a painful groan as my walls ache and clench around nothing. 'Fuck you.' I hiss, shutting my watering eyes tightly against the pain of his absence.

I heard movement behind me, then feel his hands pull my dress straps down, making my dress fall to the floor. His touch leaves me again, then I hear a zipper, Thats right.' He said, pulling my panties to the side, 'Fuck me.' And he rams his member into me. All air expells out of my body, my breath lost somewhere to the cool summer night. My fingers curl around the sill, gripling it tightly as the stinging, filling sensation settles in my bones.

He hums and leans over my back as he gathers my hair in one hand, and his mouth levels with my ear, 'You wont be walking out of here with those papers doll, In fact, I doubt you'll be walking at all.' He chuckles, and lays his cheek against mine, looking out through the window. 'So tell those men of yours that they'll have to carry you once the show is over.' And nods toward the edge of his property before leaning back.

I follow his gaze, and a slight movement catches my eye.

The back-up. . . No doubt watching the scene unfold.

But before I got to much time to ponder, his left hand grabbed my right hip, and his other hand gathered a fistful of my hair.

Then, he pulls. Yanking me upward so that my arms stretch, and my hands support me against the sill instead. My entire, naked body on full display to the outside. Asshole.

He begins thrusting, gruesome, hard thrusts. The hand fisting my hair let's go, and circles around my torso instead, folding over my chest, and grabbing the breast furthest away to knead and squeeze. Covering me up in the process.

Apparently, he didnt want them to see it all. Some was just for him.

He rests his forehead against my shoulder, planting sweet, soft kisses against the blade of it, 'Sorry.' He whispers, all the while his thrusts rock my body into oblivion. 'Needed to teach them a lesson.' He says between panting.

The coil began tightening once again, and I smile. Feeling this good, I honestly couldnt care less. Even so, my team had seen me naked before. We shower together, share rooms even, and they know im in it to win it. My only wish was that they'd have the decency to look away, but knowing they're men, It'd be too high a wish.

Nothing could be heard but the muffled music, slapping skin, laboring vocal cords, and the nature at night. Bird song and nocturnal insects filled the calm night, ever so rudely disturbed by our moaning, and– static?

Oh. . .

'Agent, I repeat– "Do you need extraction?"' The voice was uncertain, uncomfortable even.

Fuck, it must've clicked on when he yanked me by the hair. Embaressment filled me, they'd heard much more than they should've. But even so, irritation took the lead. Annoyed that they were interrupting me, I rolled my eyes, 'I'm fine, I'll be right there.' I stuttered out, doing my best to hide my moans. The slapping however, could not be hindered. I reached for my earpiece, the stuttering of his hips against my body gave me great difficulty. But managed to grab it despite being violently rocked back and forth, and threw it far into the gardens.

'Finally alone?' He breathed against me, warming my shoulder, temporarily keeping the goosebumps at bay.

'Define alone.' I scoffed, biting back a whimper. The pressure in me building to a climax, the sounds of nature and our loving dulled. Replaced by a ringing as my vision grows spotty and a faint feeling comes over me. 'Close, so– So, close.' I manage, my words stumbling out of me. He hums, moaning in my ear as his thrusts frenzies. The hand kneading my breast moves upward, grabbing my throat, squeezing lightly as we tumble into our orgasm. Collapsing onto the windowsill.

'Fuck. . .' He breathes, pulling out off me with a wet plop. His seed seaping out off my entrance now that nothing stood in its way. He rolled off of me and leaned against the sill, elbow supporting him as he observed me intently.

I pull my dress back on, then cross my arms on the sill, resting my chin upon them, 'What now?'

'You'll see me again.'

I huff, 'Yeah? How?'

He shrugs, 'Tell them we have a deal, or that I think were involved. Tell them your cover wasn't broken.'

'Think that'd work?' I ask, unconvinced. However, wishing desperately it would.

'It might, if it doesn't. You come right back here and start over with me. I'll protect you.'

I nod, 'Go to bed, so I at least can pretend to slip out.' And smile, believing him.

Not protesting, he kisses my cheek. 'Good night.' He whisperes.

I stay for a few more minutes, then grab my heels and jump out of the window. Closing it behind me. Silently, in the bright blue night, I walk barefoot in dew covered grass.

Eventually met by familiar voices, 'Not a word I say.' Interrupting them before they can comment, 'He thinks I want him.' I raise my brows and chuckle, the team snickers.

'Sure sounded like it.' One of them jokes, and they all abrupt into laughter.

I roll my eyes, 'Ha, ha. Very funny. Dont pretend you werent watching us half hard, palming yourself.' I bite back. Causing "oooohs" to abrupt, and the guy going pale.

At least they seem to believe it.

I gift myself a hopeful smile, I'll be seeing him again. One way or another.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Accidental Meteor Showers

More summoned!König because I'm obsessed with him. Please help me, I think I'm possessed.

Accidental Meteor Showers

no tws, just Summoner trying to fight König but failing miserably.

You flopped onto your bed with a loud groan. Today hadn’t been the worst, but by no means had it been the best. By this point, nobody was bothering you in the barracks. The higher ups backed off, the other soldiers had settled behind them. Nobody wanted to deal with the wrath of your summon, who incidentally, was the source of your ire today.

Not once had he shown up for you today. Most days, he’d at least conjure a tentacle to slap at whatever was being thrown at you, but today he left you entirely on your own. It was a humiliating experience. If it weren’t for König’s intervention earlier, you’d surely be a laughing stock now, if you weren’t already. The next time you saw him-

A shadow flickered in the corner of your eye.

Son of a bitch.

“You!” you drew yourself up to glare at the offending presence, “where were you today?”

The dark shape stilled.

“I know you’re there. The lights flickered,” you growled.

And from the shadows he came. Once, his agile elegance enthralled you. Today, you were preparing to strangle him.

“Summoner?” König at least had the sense to sound off-kilter.

“Where were you?” you snarled as you crawled to the foot of the bed.

König glanced down at your posture, then back up to your face, “You’re not coming any closer, Summoner.”

“Make me!” you launched off the bed only to be pushed back down by an invisible force.

You thrashed fitfully against the pressure only to be flattened like an indignant child. Your limbs were stretched out as König slowly approached to loom above you.

“I had hoped we would be in a different set of circumstances when I had you like this before me,” he mused as you pulled against your immaterial restraints.

“Shut up!” you yowled, “I’m gonna-fuckin-I’m gonna punch you!”

König blinked slowly, “You are going to punch me?”

“Yeah!”

“And you suspect telling me this will encourage me to let you do as you please?” König sounded far too amused for your liking.

“Well, duh,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m your summoner. You listen to me!”

König walked around the side of the bed until he loomed above you. He leaned in until his hood draped over your face, leaving only his eyes visible to you.

“No.”

You managed to get your head up to smack his forehead, but he seemed unphased. Or rather, you phased right through him before falling back.

“You’re such a dick,” you seethed.

“You haven’t even told me why you are in such a cantankerous mood today,” König scoffed as he casually sat on the edge of the bed beside you.

You slumped back onto the bed with a pout. He was right. He was always right. Why did he have to be a cosmic being with unlimited knowledge and power beyond your understanding? Why couldn’t you have just summoned a stupid imp like you’d planned?

You sighed, “Okay, so, did you get any of my summoning calls today?”

König tilted his head.

“Any of them?”

“Summoner, are you saying I didn’t come to your call?” König seemed to tense up, “we both know that would be a strict violation of the bond we made. Are you suggesting that I am threatening the bond that I graciously offered you?”

You flushed, but pushed on, “Then where were you today? I called you at least five times!”

König seemed confused.

“But you didn’t,” König said slowly, almost as though you were the stupid one here.

“Excuse me!?” you spat, “what do you mean ‘you didn’t’!? I was calling you all day! Where the hell were you?”

König squinted. With a flick of his wrist, you felt the pressure relax and you were able to move again. Without missing a beat, you threw one of your fists at him. He caught it with a simple movement and pulled you into his arms.

“Summoner, I have a proposition for you,” he chuckled as you struggled against his hold, “why don’t you try summoning me here? Call it a test.”

“Why? So you can ignore me again?” you snorted.

“Just try, Summoner,” he pushed you to your feet towards the centre of the room.

You stumbled forth like an awkward duckling before catching yourself on a side table. You took the time to cast a dirty look at him, then walked to the center of the room. You took some chalk from your pocket and drew his symbol on the floor, carefully tracing the design on the hardwood with slow and steady strokes. You sat in the centre of your symbol and closed your eyes. You took a deep breath. The ancient words to summon König flowed freely from you, letting you feel the arcane power surge through your entire being, pulling you further to an enlightened place beyond comprehension. Or, well, you would have if König hadn’t placed a hand over your mouth.

You spluttered and pulled back with a furious look.

“Summoner,” König drawled, “you drew the wrong symbol.”

You blinked. You followed his claw to look down at the ground, but everything seemed perfectly in place. You stared at the ground and then back up at him.

“The third moon is waning, not waxing. And here,” he tapped the centre of the symbol, “you drew the constellations upside down.”

You squinted at the squiggles. Then it clicked.

You gasped, then covered your mouth as humiliation flushed over you.

“You’re right,” you squeaked.

“You’re lucky nothing responded to that summon,” König snorted, “or you would have had your flesh stripped from your bones.”

You paled.

“I jest, Summoner,” König playfully shoved your shoulder, “but in truth, you must be careful when drawing my symbol, lest you dredge up undesirable sorts. If you’d like, I can give you a reference.”

You sighed and hung your head.

“Please,” you held up your hands.

He took your right hand in his and brought it to his lips. He kissed it briefly, then let it drop to your side.

“There,” König said as you raised your hand to take a look. There, on the back of your hand, was a burned in tattoo of his summon. He’d branded you. You should have been furious, but you couldn’t help but find it so beautiful on your hand. It looked like it had always belonged there.

“Thank you,” you cradled your branded hand to your chest.

“Anytime, Summoner,” König ruffled your hair playfully, “now come, today has been long. You need rest.”

AU Masterlist