#it's all very tentative it's mostly just been me playing around

[nebulous-rain]

I need to know more about panacea please what is the lore

TO BE QUITE HONEST he doesn't have much definitive lore... all i have right now is that the amputation didn't fully remove reverb from his body, and he slowly got more and more corrupted over time to the point he's barely coherent. he has moments of lucidity but they're few and far between

his drive to find lewis manifested in this weird like. obsession? so he kind of wandered aimlessly looking for him for a long time. his clothes are a mishmash between arthur and reverb's styles, hence the coat and the spikes wristbands :)

for those who remember his whole inspiration came from a lemon demon song (sweet bod) so he DOES end up finding lewis' grave and. digging him up. and turning him into honey

that's it he's just a stinky arthur with lewis corpse honey

[another-lost-mc]

Your First Kiss Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 2.7k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Smutty Smooches Content warnings: Pining demons, anxiety/insecurity, mostly fluff and suggestive comments. Some cursing. Certain demons are a bit, uhh...steamier than others.

LUCIFER

The fireplace in Lucifer's private study crackles nearby. He feels warm from the flames, the bottle of Demonus you've been sharing, and your body curled against his.

A comfortable silence falls over you both, and it's natural for his gaze to seek yours. Your eyes are dark, and it's not a trick of the light when he sees your eyes dart down to his mouth.

Your face starts to move closer to his, and the only thing louder than the cursed record playing is the thrum of anticipation and desire that sets his nerves ablaze.

He's imagined this moment longer than he'll ever admit. He's been waiting for a sign that you wanted to go down this path with him, no matter where it leads. Now that he knows what you want, it's too late to turn back now.

Your hand rests on his chest and he can feel your touch through the layers between you - the clothes he wears, and the walls he’s put up to deter those unworthy of him.

He closes his eyes to savor the experience of kissing you for the first time. Your taste makes him lightheaded, and it's more irresistible than the finest vintage of Demonus.

He follows your lead at first, slotting his lips perfectly against yours and enjoying the sensation of your lips moving gently against his own.

When you put a little more heat into the kiss - your tongue tentatively swiping against the seam of his lips as you move your body closer to his - he cradles the back of your head and slides his other hand down to your waist. He pulls you against him and let's a groan rumble in his chest, undeniable proof of his desire and it encourages you to give him more.

It feels like all you've been through together has brought both of you to this moment, and he's been patient long enough. He takes lead of the kiss, his buried feelings for you spilling from his lips to yours, while his passion consumes you both.

MAMMON

Mammon is caught off-guard by your first kiss.

He looked away in embarrassment after telling you, in a very complicated, round-about way, that you meant the world to him.

He pretended to look at something in the distance, but his cheeks were warm. He had to resist the urge not to look at you again, to pretend that you're not the flame he's constantly drawn to.

His feelings for you are overwhelming sometimes. You're just so fucking amazing, and all his - even if you don't realize it yet.

But Mammon is like an open book to you; you know how he feels, how he's always felt about you.

When he looks at you again, he's startled when your face is suddenly so close to his.

You lean forward and give him a kiss - it's quick, and it's not perfect - but he gets the hint of what you're trying to tell him: You mean the world to me, too.

He sputters about how you shouldn't go around surprising demons like that, and he almost thinks the kiss is supposed to be a joke, but he knows that's not true. It can't be, not when you're looking at him like he hung the moon, and your smile is wide and hopeful.

The happiness in his chest threatens to bubble over, and he knows he'll never forget this moment.

Fuck it. He wraps a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you back in for another kiss. It's still not perfect - you're both smiling so it's a bit clumsy, and your teeth clack together.

He wants more of you - he'll always want more. He wants to pull you close and hold your body against his, and he wants to plunder your mouth with his tongue, but not now. Not here.

He nips your bottom lip before he reluctantly pulls away, and he practically drags you back home to continue this in private.

LEVIATHAN

Levi didn't see the big deal about giving you the collectible game figure you wanted - so why the hell did you lean over and kiss him?!

It was over almost as soon as it began, a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth after you thanked him.

You're too focused on your new toy to notice Levi short-circuiting beside you on the sofa in his room.

His breathing is a bit erratic, and he rubs his sweaty palms on the denim of his jeans.

His throat is scratchy and dry all of a sudden, but licking his lips doesn't help - especially not when he tastes the evidence of your kiss: the sweet, sticky residue from the bag of candies you shared earlier.

He crosses his legs until he can discretely pull a pillow into his lap to hide the growing bulge between his legs.

You're talking excitedly about something, but he can't make out the words - his mind is still reeling from the implications of why you kissed him.

The kiss couldn't have been an accident - you leaned over on purpose, and he felt your chest press against his arm so your lips could reach his.

He thinks that maybe it was a joke at first, or some sort of tease, but he looks at you closely. Your eyes are a bit brighter, and your cheeks are a tinge darker than usual. You keep glancing at him shyly from the corner of your eyes.

He doesn't realize how long he's been freaking out until you ask him if he's alright.

He didn’t notice you spoke to him at first: he was too busy staring at you and your soft, candy-sweetened lips, trying to figure out what he's ever done to deserve you.

He swallows nervously and braces himself when he looks into your eyes properly. "Can we—can we do that again?"

SATAN

Satan’s first thought when you kiss him is that he wishes he had the nerve to kiss you first.

He likes inviting you to his room to read together - his room is lit brightly enough so that you don’t have to strain your human eyes to read the pages of your book.

However, there’s something alluring about the way candlelight and shadow play across your features. It distracts him from the book in his hands as he stares at you fondly instead.

You’re sitting side-by-side on his bed, which he prefers: the scent of the fragrance you wear lingers on his bedding, and sometimes he can still smell you when he goes to sleep.

You thank him for something - lending you one of his rare edition books, something he probably wouldn’t do for anyone else - and you kiss his cheek.

It’s such a sweet, innocent gesture but it still makes his body grow hot. It's not like the raging inferno of his anger, but more like a molten wave of affection that sweeps through him.

He’s not nervous now that he has permission to touch you, and one kiss is not going to be enough to satisfy him.

He cups your cheek and brushes the skin gently with his thumb. You bite your lip to stifle a bashful grin, and he can’t help but press his smile against your own.

His other hand finds yours on his sheets between your bodies, and he nearly whimpers into the kiss when you lace your fingers with his.

Your other hand finds it’s way onto his shoulder and you lean your body closer to his. Perhaps if he were overcome with desire he would wrap his arms around you and pull you down onto the bed.

He doesn’t want to ruin this; he decides this moment is perfect enough. You trade soft, sweet kisses in the cozy haven of his room, where time stands still and only your love remains.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus wants to kiss you desperately, but he doesn't want you to think you're just another passing fancy in his long list of ex-lovers. He feels like he has a lot to prove to you.

He can't charm his way into your heart, and he knows you want him to be honest and genuine with you.

When he admits that he loves you - more than he's loved anyone before, possibly even more than he loves himself - the cravings begin.

He craves your company, and your touch, and your kiss and your body. He craves you. But he promises himself he won't rush things, and he won't pressure you.

He wanted to go shopping - and buy you something, of course - when some idiot demon on a motorcycle nearly ran you over while you crossed the street together. Asmo wrapped his arms around you and held you close while he cursed the demon who kept driving.

He pulled you into an alley off the main street so he could check on you privately. "Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you? I promise, if I ever see them again, I'm going to—mmph!"

Asmo looked concerned when he examined you for injuries, but he didn't expect you to grab his shirt collar and pull his lips down to yours.

He makes a surprised noise against your lips, then he moans when he realizes you're finally kissing him, and he can't fucking believe it.

His hands roam your body - your shoulders, your back, your hips - and he pulls you even closer as the kiss grows more heated. He can't help it, but neither can you, apparently - adrenaline is a helluva drug.

His kiss is hot and frenzied and desperate, and he feels drunk off your taste, and your lips are so soft, and his nerves tingle every time your tongue glides against his own.

You pull away first, gasping for air even as Asmo tries to chase your mouth because he doesn't want to stop.

His lip gloss feels tacky and it's smeared across his lips and chin. Your mouth is messy too, and your cheeks are flushed, and the way you're staring at him is so fucking hot.

He suddenly decides he's not in the mood to go shopping anymore - but he leads you home by the hand and promises he still has plans to spoil you tonight.

BEELZEBUB

When you're friends, you let Beel pick leftovers off your plate, or you cook him an extra large portion of food. When you start dating, he cares less about food and cares more about other things he'd like to share with you.

He's not distracted by the food on your plate, but the way you moan when you eat something especially tasty, or the way your lips shine after you wet them with your tongue, and he wonders what kissing you will be like too.

Every time sauce or cream clings to the corners of your mouth, he wants to lick your lips clean for you.

He tries to be patient and wait for you to kiss him first. Sometimes you look at him like you're ravenous for him in a way he's never seen before, but he's never been good at self-control when he's starving.

One night he sneaks to the kitchen for a late-night snack, but you're already there. You're leaning against the counter, eating ice cream straight out of the tub, and you freeze guiltily when you realize you've been caught.

Beel's stunned by the sight of you in your pajamas, hidden mostly in shadow with a spoon dangling from your lips when you start to sputter excuses.

He can see that there's a dribble of ice cream, just there, above your lip—

He takes the tub and spoon from you gently - and you smile, because you think he wants to share because he likes that flavour - but you gasp against his lips when he leans down and kisses you.

His lips are soft when they move against yours, and he sucks your bottom lip between his own.

Once the lingering sweetness is gone, all he can taste is you. You taste even better.

He freezes when he realizes what he's doing, and he pulls his hands away from your waist like he's been burned. He starts to apologize, and your face is flushed and he thinks you're upset, but then you ask him to kiss you again.

Oh fuck, you're going to be awful for his self-control.

He kisses you again, and again, and again. He whispers broken praise about how good you taste and how amazing you are between hot, opened mouth kisses against your lips.

When you break the kiss with a pleased sigh, his lips drag along your jaw. He wants more.

You're bracketed between his arms and he's crowding you against the counter. The drawer handle digging painfully into your back forces you to gently push him away.

He knows he's staring at you, and he might be drooling a little now too, but he can't help it.

You feed him the rest of the half-melted ice cream - it would be a waste not to - and lead him from the kitchen to your bedroom, where you can continue things more comfortably.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie is still groggy from sleep when he drapes an arm over your waist. You're both laying in his bed in the attic, and as much as he wants to fall back to sleep, his eyes blink open instead.

You're still sleeping, and your nose makes a cute little whistling noise when you breathe. You're so adorable.

He doesn't consider himself to be the romantic type, but you bring that out in him sometimes. In the dimly lit attic, the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling give you an almost ethereal, whimsical glow.

You look so peaceful when you sleep. Beautiful, gorgeous, mesmerizing—

He scoots a bit closer to you, and he's not sure the blankets covering you both are the reason why he suddenly feels so warm.

You're pouting in your sleep, and you murmur quietly too, and he wonders what you're dreaming about tonight.

He always feels so cozy spending time with you like this, even though you're still asleep. It gives him a chance to think about you, and the things he wishes he had the nerve to do when you're awake.

His head is resting on the pillow beside you, and he brushes his nose against yours. He smiles when you scrunch your nose in your sleep.

He kisses your forehead and cheek next - what isn't smooshed into the pillow, anyway. He peppers kisses along your skin, and he thinks about all the things he likes about you, and the things he wants to do together, and the things he'd like to do for you.

His quick kiss against your lips is impulsive. He's wanted to kiss you for so long, but since you're asleep you'll never know—

He panics when your eyes blink open and meet his.

You stare at each other. He's ready to tell you that whatever you think you felt was just a dream, but then a smile blooms across your face.

He tries to shuffle back from you, but you shuffle forward. He gives up when he's nearly falling off the mattress trying to put some distance from you, and you simply raise an eyebrow as if to ask, "What are you going to do now?"

“Nothing happened,” he says lamely, and the lie sounds as obvious as it feels rolling off his tongue.

“That’s a shame, I was having a nice dream that some handsome demon kissed me.” You roll over and sigh dramatically, and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning.

“Handsome, huh?” He follows you - because he’s powerless not to - and leans on his elbow so he can look down at your cute, pouting face. “And how do I compare?"

You reach up and cup his cheek, and he can't resist the urge to nuzzle into your touch. "Nothing compares to you." The sincerity in your voice makes his throat tighten, and his cheeks are on fire, and what is he supposed to say to that?

You grin at him, and your eyes are soft and full of love for him and him alone.

He's determined to kiss that cheeky smile off your face. He lowers his head to yours and kisses you again - properly this time - and hums happily when you move your lips against his like you wanted this as much as he did.

[moonstruckme]

hi!! first of all, i am a frequent reader(???) of your blog because your writing is immaculate and you seem so sweet and fun to talk to you, thank you so much for all the work that you do

second of all, i really hope your request are indeed open so that i am not spamming you🫶 in case they are closed, i am so very sorry and freely ignore this

I was wondering if i could request a little reader x either james or if the spark comes to do poly! i will NEVER say no to that lmao, where the reader seemingly out of nowhere starts feeling down, voicing that she doesn't think she's a good person? because she thought of all the friendships and extremely close people that left her and she just feels hurts and confused?

need some hurt/comfort rn, i know i am a little mean, and probably not the nicest person out there, but thinking of all the failed friendships/folks that i loved so dearly makes me feel like perhaps i am not a good person and that thought plagues me a bit ng

either way, thank you so much in advance, i hope you are well, getting to take care of yourself and have a lovely rest of day, evening of whenever you are reading this!

Thanks for requesting honey, love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James is talking to you about the movie he wants to go see, and if you were a better girlfriend—if you were better, period—you’d be listening, chipping in occasionally but mostly just letting him talk with the same adoring attentiveness he always gives you. But instead, you’re still stuck in the pub you’d left a few minutes ago, watching the surprise play over Sirius’ features. The flash of something you suspect might have been hurt in his cool gray eyes before he covered it up with skillful quickness. 

“And whatever I say, I can’t seem to lure the boys to another sci fi film,” James goes on, “so I’m afraid you might be conscripted for that one.” 

“Okay.” 

“Really?” The disbelief in James’ voice brings you back to attention. “I thought you’d have more qualms after that last one.”

You did swear to James that he’d never be dragging you to another of his nerd movies again. But maybe this is your opportunity to turn over a new leaf. “You want to see it, right?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Then we’ll go.” 

The two of you walk under a streetlight, giving you a clear view of your boyfriend’s skeptical expression. “You’re really alright with it? We can go see that new rom com instead, if you want.” 

See, this is the problem with being around James. He’s so, so good. It makes you seem even worse in contrast. And he makes it impossible to be selfless, because he always has to be the most giving person in any situation. It makes you want to cry from both love and frustration. 

“Let’s just go to the one you want to see,” you say, and despite your best intentions the words come out with a slight edge. 

“Alright,” he says slowly. Now you can feel his eyes on you, your own gaze vaguely ahead as you keep pace alongside him on the sidewalk. You live in a more shadowy part of town, but the clouds obscuring the moon make the darkness complete. James’ voice is tentative. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You chew your bottom lip. “Do you think I upset Sirius earlier?”

“You mean that joke you made?” It doesn’t help your anxiety that he knows exactly what you mean. No chance it flew completely under everyone else’s radar, then. “No, he was fine.” 

“You don’t think he looked…I don’t know, shocked? Like his feelings were hurt?” 

James’ gaze burns into the side of your head, but you won’t look at him. “No, angel. I think your sense of humor can be a little…” he fumbles for the right word, and a worm of unease writhes in your gut “...brash, sometimes, but Sirius is made for that stuff. The last person you’re going to offend with that is him. He gets it.” 

You sigh and nod, doing your best to convince yourself he’s telling the truth. 

“Hey.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What’s going on in that head of yours? I can hear you thinking.” 

“I just don’t really know if I’m a good person.” 

Your voice is quiet, but you know James hears you perfectly. His steps actually fumble for a second, like he might stop in his tracks. 

“Of course you are,” he says. “I mean—listen, of course I would lie to you even if you weren’t, though I guess we probably wouldn’t be together if I thought you were a bad person, but—anyway, you are. You are a good person.” 

You force a laugh, ignoring how your throat contracts around it. “Sorry. I know you’d lie to make me feel better, Jamie. You’re too nice.” 

“I would,” James acknowledges, following as you go up the front steps to your apartment and dig around in your bag for your key. “But I’m not right now.” He ducks his head as you twist your key in the lock, jockeying for a view of your face. “Sweetheart, why would you think that?” 

“I don’t know,” you mumble as you step inside. You set your keys down on the table by the door and knead at your chest, but it does nothing to relieve the hollow ache forming there. 

“Yeah you do,” James says softly, hot on your tail. “I know you, you don’t just say these things. Come on.” He takes your shoulders in his hands, trapping you, and you drop your gaze to avoid meeting his eyes. (You know how that goes. They make you feel all soft and melty and get you to talk and talk and talk.) “I can’t be fully honest with you if you’re not honest with me,” he says. 

“I just know—I know I can be really mean sometimes.” Your voice cracks on mean, and James tightens his grip on you, holding you together while you crumble. The pressure in your throat is hot and thick, but it feels so good to cry. Like your outsides finally match your insides. “I want to be better but I don’t know how.” 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds like heartbreak. His hands slide from your shoulders, wrapping around your upper back and squeezing painfully. “Darling, you don’t need to be better. Or, not more than anyone else. You’re already a good person.”

You make a miserable choked sound, frustrated with him for only telling you what you want to hear and frustrated with yourself for not knowing better.

“You are,” he says, half desperate. “Know how I know?”

You take your face from his shoulder, eyeing guiltily the glossy wetness of your tears and snot on his jumper. James takes your face in a big hand, finally succeeding in angling it towards him. 

He’s giving you a little smile despite his own watery eyes and the deep crinkle between his brows. He takes your look as enough prompting to go on. 

“Because bad people don’t worry about if they’re good people, angel.” The words are emphatic, beseeching. Begging you to understand. “They don’t try to do the right thing. You being worried about Sirius is just proof that you care. Do you think a bad person would get themselves so worked up” —he thumbs at the wet skin underneath your eye, smiling thinly— “over whether they’re being too mean? That just doesn’t happen, love.” 

You swallow thickly, letting James press a solid kiss to your temple. He holds your face between his hands like you’re something special. Something worth having. 

“I wouldn’t be with someone who was always being actually mean to my friends,” he tells you, voice dropping into a lower register. You know he’s being sincere. James would never let anything happen to Sirius or Remus, certainly not by someone he’d brought into their orbit. “But we all know you don’t mean anything cruel by the things you say. It can be a little…” 

“Brash?” you supply, and James smiles. 

“Yeah,” he admits, “sometimes. Anyone who knows you doesn’t take it personally, though. You’re kind in your own way, it’s just not always what people are used to.” James tilts his head, assessing your expression and giving you full view of the earnestness in his in turn. “You’re a good person, sweetheart. And please don’t worry about being that kind of mean to Sirius, alright? He can take it.”

[sweetiecutie]

Valeria Garza sugar mommy hc’s

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, sugar mommy/sugar baby dynamics, age gap, a liiiiittle bit of angst but it’s all good, smut, it’s proofread a few times but I’m dyslexic so there prob will be mistakes lmao😭

In my mind Valeria is a raging lesbian. She always knew that she was attracted to women, but still gave a few goes to relationships with men. And, needless to say, the only things she got from those were trauma and deep disappointment in men. I can’t tell about her relationships with Alejandro for sure - were they platonic or romantic - but I kinda feel like he was the final straw for her. After whatever happened between these two, even an idea itself of being together with a man repulsed Valeria.

So when she laid her eyes on you - pretty little thing, all giggly and bubbly, looking up at her with those adorable doe eyes - Valeria knew that she just had to have you at any cost.

At first she was very subtle with her advances - she wanted to make sure that you were into women as well, to avoid yet another painful disappointment. And she couldn’t exactly ask you straight - that could’ve freak you out and scare you away - last thing Valeria would want. It took a pretty long while - for Valeria’s great dismay and frustration - for a perfect opportunity to finally come. And when you, giggling and blushing, confessed that you were indeed interested in women - Valeria felt giddy. Just perfect.

After this rather informative conversation between the two of you, Valeria finally decided to bring to life her plan of courting you. At first it was very confusing for both you of you. Mostly you. Here she is - this insanely attractive older woman, being genuinely interested in your company, asking you out for coffee or just a ‘girls night’ every once in a while, and you didn’t know how to feel about it all. Valeria was playful and flirty, all the fleeting touches on your shoulders or thighs that made you tremble, your fingers brushing while handing something to each other, longing stares that were a bit too long to be brushed off and it wasn’t long until you developed a crush on her. And rather huge one, I’d say. “But did she actually feel the same? Was she interested in you the way you were in her? Or was she just playing around, like a cat with a trembling mouse, before throwing you away once she got bored?” - these were the questions buzzing loudly in your head, and you didn’t know what to do.

You’ve been fighting your feelings back - ignoring butterflies flaring in your stomach whenever Valeria called you, or stupid smile stretching your lips at the mere thought of her. Your “little crush” turned out to be stronger than you initially thought it was, and it scared you. So, to avoid your heart being broken, you decided to take this whole situation into your own hands. And by that you meant ignoring Valeria until your feeling for her disappeared.

And oh baby, was she annoyed by that. Once eager and happy “Of course, sushi night sounds just great” from you was replaced by “Sorry, but uni really has me in a chokehold, gotta lots of work to do”. This lasted for nearly a month before Valeria’s this thin patience finally snapped - she had to do something about it.

She decided to visit you late in the evening (so that she was sure you were home, to avoid possible frustration by you being absent). Banging on your front door she waited patiently for you to open it, listening to quiet scurrying on the other side.

Soon tentative “who’s there?” came from you, your voice sounded so small - scared, even - not waiting anyone this late of an hour.

- It’s me, hermosa. Open the door, - she said as calmly as she could manage, jaw set tightly and nostrils flaring as adrenaline was rushing through her veins.

You cracked open the door, peeking out to make sure it was actually her, before opening it fully. Valeria felt her rage fading slightly at the sight of you - hair all disheveled and up in a rushed bun, skin flushed and soft from hot shower, small silky bathrobe you had on gave her a pretty sight of your plushy thighs.

You were relieved to see her at your door and not some creep that could put you in danger. But the look of annoyance etched on her pretty face made you gulp nervously, whole body tensing as you could clearly feel a not so pleasant conversation quickly approaching.

You stepped aside, letting Valeria inside your small apartment. She made her way to your living room, stopping in the middle of the room and looking around, not saying a single word. You lingered behind her awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

- Sooo, would you like some coffee? - you started tentatively, playing with your thumbs to busy your hands with something.

- The fuck is happening, Y/n? - Valeria asked harshly, turning around on her heels to fully face you.

- Pardon? - you asked, your eyes widening at the sudden aggression in her voice.

Valeria sneered at your lost expression, looking at the wall behind you and inhaling deeply through her nose, trying her best to control her rage. This woman had a short temper, and you perfectly knew it, internally preparing yourself for a shouting marathon. You watched Valeria close her eyes, taking another deep breath, before saying in a eerily calm tone:

- You’ve been avoiding me. For a month now. Why?

Oh. So she did notice.

You stood there, like a deer caught in the headlights, as Valeria looked expectedly at you.

- So? - she pressed, cocking one of her dark eyebrows as silence went on for far too long. You gulped, trying to swallow a heavy lump constricting your throat, your waterline burning with bitter tears.

- Because I don’t know how to feel about you, - you uttered quietly, your voice small and weak, trembling ever so slightly. You tried controlling your breathing in a weak attempt of calming yourself down, not to let hot tears fall down your cheeks, especially in front of her.

- The fuck is that supposed to mean? - Valeria barked, making you wince slightly. She regretted it immediately, taking yet another deep breath to cool down, waiting patiently for your reply.

You hesitated. Should you tell her the truth? Or you could use an excuse of being busy with your studies, it seemed like it worked perfectly with Valeria. Or so you thought, anyways.

It was now or never - at this point, after you avoiding her for several weeks and this exact conversation happening, your relationship with Valeria would never be the same. So you decided to rip the bandaid off in one harsh move - painful at first, but it’ll be way easier in the future.

- I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. And I decided to end it before it got way too out of hand.

Ringing silence fell between the two of you. Valeria looked at you dumbfounded. Wait, what? Did you just confessed to her? That means that you actually, actually, liked her back?

Garza just stared at you silently, and you felt sick to the bottom of your stomach. You couldn’t control your tears anymore, feeling them flow down your cheeks freely. You quickly turned away, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, angrily wiping salty tears away. Anger was bubbling inside of your chest - this is so stupid, stupid, stupid!

You heard footsteps behind you and suddenly a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, Valeria’s warm body pressed against your shuddering back, molding against you. She rested her forehead against your shoulder, rubbing her face against soft material of your bathrobe, arms squeezing you a tad tighter in a hug.

- Princess, you don’t know how much I wanted to hear you say it, - she murmured against your skin, inhaling a lungful of your sweet scent. Your head snapped to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Valeria.

- What..?

In a swift move the turned you around, warm hands resting on both your cheeks, thumbs wiping your tears away. Before you knew it her plump lips were slotted snugly against yours, sending electric shocks running up and down your spine, electricity tingling on your fingertips. You gasped softly before she broke away, leaning back just enough to have a proper look of your flushed pretty face. Without fully realizing what you were doing you leaned forward, once again meeting her lips with yours, arms wrapping around her shoulders to keep her as close to you as humanly possible.

So that’s how relationships between you two started. You two never actually settled sugar mommy/sugar baby dynamic, but with the age difference and all the money Valeria had from running a cartel?? Baby, you get whatever you want.

Valeria literally spoils you rotten - any jewelry, expensive makeup or clothing piece you may want - you most certainly get it. She also loves to take you to pretty locations like Italy, Spain, Jamaica - you name it. Your vacations never last long due to her work, but it’s enough to make some amazing memories together. But spoiling also goes to some extend - you want another car? Cariño, you already have three new pretty sport cars in garage - the answer is a firm NO.

And speaking of work - Valeria wants you as far from it all as well. It’s most likely you don’t even have any idea of what she’s doing for life. You guess that it’s something illegal - considering all the conspiracy and amount of money Valeria makes. But you don’t think too much into that; Valeria wants you away from all this dark business - so you do just that.

Valeria has a pretty tight schedule, not always having time for sleep, not saying anything about time to spare for you. That means that when she does have free time she expects you to be right there with her, no matter what you were previously occupied with. College? - Skip it. Family gathering? - Babe, you see them pretty often anyways, now get your precious ass over to her. Of course it annoys you as well sometimes, but Valeria genuinely doesn’t see anything wrong with her behavior so you have to patiently explain to her that you can’t always come to her at her smallest whim, causing pretty nasty arguments by that.

Valeria is very possessive. Whenever you extremely one of your friends that you’re really close with? God, it just turns some switch inside of her - her smile disappears, jaw clenching slightly and her whole body goes a bit rigid. She wants you all to herself, she wants you to only think about her and no one else. She knows that it’s wrong, that she shouldn’t feel this way, but she simply can’t help it! You are so smart and kind and pretty and charming - it’s hard NOT to fall for you! It takes lots of reassurance from your side to soothe Valeria’s pointless worries, proving over and over throughout the night that she’s the only one for you, the only one that can make you feel so loved and needed.

Valeria definitely gave you a cute golden choker, inlaid with lots of pretty gemstones. She loves seeing you wearing it - not only it goes well with most of your cute outfits; “mommy’s princess” engraved on the inner side of it translated onto your skin prettily, staying there for several minutes - bare sight of it makes Valeria’s mouth water, fingers twitching with want.

And speaking of sexual activities - I’m a firm believer that Valeria is a dom. Hard or soft - depends on her mood and your behavior. But this woman just doesn’t know how to bottom, not that she wants to. She loves her pretty pillow princess, loves to do all the work for you, having you at her complete mercy. You tried switching roles a few times, but every single time Valeria ended up pinning you down, absolutely ravaging you with her tongue, fingers or strap (or all together👀)

She’s VERY into pet play. Varelia absolutely adores tugging on the leash, making you whimper and ordering you around. Loves seeing you humping her leg like a desperate little pup, being so polite asking your mistress to finger your tight hole<3

Loves loves LOVES making you squirt!!! And don’t have any doubts, you WILL squirt with her! This woman just know how to make another woman cum in a matter of minutes. And all the cute sounds you make? God, it drives Valeria absolutely crazy!

Loves receiving sloppy slow heads. You sitting in between her spread legs, so desperate to please her. Your big doe eyes almost rolling back into your skull, tongue delved deep inside her pussy as you lick and lap at her seeping cunt, nose nudging her clit. Valeria buried her hands into your hair, tugging you towards herself, nearly choking you on her cunt.

And can you guess what Valeria’s favorite activity is? Scissoring you absolutely stupid early in the morning, her clit rubbing tightly against yours, your juices mixing, running down your thighs and ass. And make sure to give her a show, massaging your bouncy tits, pinching these perky nipples. Best way to wake up imho🥰

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[vaguely-concerned]

another really interesting thing in our man bashir to me is that I think this is the point where garak finally mostly relinquishes his self-appointed role as bashir's teacher. he seems to have taken it upon himself early on, for inscrutable but probably partially horny, partially cultivating a promising (and lovely) contact reasons of his own, to imbue julian bashir with some spysmarts and basic bastard thinking literacy skills, in the hopes that he won't go get his bright beautiful excitable ass killed at the first opportunity. there's a lot of mentor/protege undertone there in the early years. (if you want to get into asit stuff, very much in the same vein as palandine and garak's relationship in the beginning.)

but in omb garak really only has one of his little lectures, and it's basically about The thing about being a spy (and a person) that has most shaped his life: That's something else you've yet to learn, Doctor. A real intelligence agent has no ego, no conscience, no remorse. Only a sense of professionalism. There is no joy, no magic, no real delight to this, no winning, no recognition, and most importantly no connection; the reward for work well done is only ever the work itself. You don’t kiss the girl, get the key — you simply get on with turning yourself into nothing as best you can. and julian, who had just been trying to momentarily imagine a world where secrets can be cool and glamorous and for good, meaningful reasons that empower him to help the world rather than shameful and isolating and alienating and like a damocles sword hanging over him and everything he cares about, shoots back with 'well, but what if not that, though? that's the whole point of this game! this is my story not yours, trust me to know it better than you do. (I have more things to teach you too, if you’d just listen. And once he gets shot a little bit, garak does listen.)'

(somewhere beneath all this is almost exactly the same debate they will have explicitly later on -- "Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all"/"If that's true, that's one lesson I never want to learn". Something something the freedom to imagine and play around with different worlds in your head, no matter how cringefail james bond LARP nonsense that world is as long as it brings you hope and joy and new perspectives, kill the part of you that cringes etc. Garak you're allowed to get out of the closet in your head now, Tain is gone, you can imagine different things than what has been and no one will turn it against you. Im… sad)

through most of this episode garak is observing, and when he's not simply bitching about everything from the sidelines (<3), he's tentatively trying to throw in comments to play along, to figure out how the flow goes like he's learning a different language, and he's BAD at it hahaha. he barged in there to put himself in a position to learn something about julian bashir's ~*hidden inner psyche*~, but UH-OH spiritual uno reverse card time he's having to face some shit about his own psyche and the immense barrenness it's been forced to operate under for so long.

The learning between them has of course always been two-way (that’s partially what the whole relationship is built on), but in giving up the more ‘formal’ role — mask — of teacher, garak is also opening up space for realer emotional intimacy, letting one layer of artificiality fall and allowing more realness to shine through. even so he doesn’t let go of control completely until he’s faced with irrefutable (horny) proof that julian’s sentiments and ideals are backed by real conviction — julian knows (possibly better than garak does) what is a game, and what is real, and where he draws the line between frivolous and deeply necessary is different from where garak would and by the end of the ep I think garak trusts julian more, enough to leave the story in julian’s hands without trying to steer or form him even indirectly/sneakily. And to top it all off, the way julian uses his last dramatic speech to signal that he did also listen to what garak told him… augh.  

the teacher role, along with the lies (ever his swiss army knife god bless), has helped garak keep a sort of fine-tuned control of the level of emotional intimacy possible between them, stay in control of what narratives are even on the table. and I think finally letting that fade more into the background transforms their relationship in ways that can pay off big time down the line, for all that it leaves things a bit strange and tentative in the meantime. by garak standards he’s being positively transparent in this episode. for the first time he talks about his time in the order without any coy prevarication, he states his hunger for knowing julian better right down to his ~*hidden inner psyche*~ almost pathetically openly (<3<3<3<3). And this is just my headcanon and definitely not what was meant at the time of airing, the unplanned nature of the augment reveal being what it is, but in context of the whole show as it became it feels a lot like garak offering some of his own authenticity to signal that julian could trust him with his. It feels like garak has figured out at least the rough outlines of what julian has uh got going on and tried to make this gambit, having… perhaps underestimated the extent of the defenses julian has internally/psychologically against Being Known, quite aside from the practical real world consequences of his secret getting out. Anyway. Lots in this episode. Many thoughts.

[shuadotcom]

Main Dish | HJS (M)

☐ Summary: When lunch ends up being inedible, Joshua has to pick something else to eat.

☐ Pairing: Joshua x Afab!Reader

☐ Genres & AUs: Smut, fluff, established relationship!au, absolutely porn without plot

☐ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☐ Warnings: Profanity, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart, honey, good girl), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting

☐ Words: 3.2k

☐ Note: This fic is brought to you by my lack of cooking skills and my insatiable need for Joshua. It was also written for @kpopsblackcreatorsociety Bon Voyage Bingo event! The bingo square/prompt for this fic is camping.

Thank you @horanghater for being my beta ily 🥰

☐ Net Tag: @kflixnet

“Please don’t go off, please don’t go off, please do-”

BEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEP

“Goddamnit!” Working as fast as possible, you grab the pan from the hot stove top, removing it from the heat. The blare of the smoke detector rings out through the apartment and you have to act quickly to open all the nearby windows, waving away the smoke in the air with the dish towel. 

Once the smoke mostly clears and the alarms have subsided, you survey the scene in front of you. Grumbling in frustration you eye the now burnt tofu on the stovetop and let out a disappointed sigh. You had just wanted to cook something fun and new for your boyfriend. He’s been camping with his friends for the past week and you figure he would appreciate a home-cooked meal but, as usually happens with you in the kitchen, it turned out to be a disaster. 

You weren’t a cook by any means, but you knew how to get by with very basic skills. Boiling eggs, making stove-top ramen, and using the air fryer slash toaster oven you had begged for on your last birthday. 

All of the essentials of cooking. 

Tonight, the plan was originally to try a new pan-fried tofu recipe you saw on TikTok because it looked yummy. Instead of looking like the wonderfully golden-fried nuggets that they were supposed to resemble, all that sits in the pan in front of you now are uneven little pieces of charcoal. 

Great. Wonderful. Amazing.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, gnawing at a hangnail in distress, you didn’t even take notice of your boyfriend watching you from the entrance of the room, admiring how cute you looked in your little lounge clothes and apron. His entrance had been drowned out by the blaring of the smoke alarms.

“Don’t chew on your nails, honey, it’s not good for you.”

Joshua’s voice is much louder than the music you are playing from your phone on the counter and you nearly leap into the air when you hear him.

“Jesus, Shua! You scared the shit out of me!” Clutching your chest, you reach over and pause the sound from your phone.

He chuckles as he approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you in for a hug. 

“Sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it.” He apologizes, but the smirk on his face shows he’s not really that sorry.

Joshua places a kiss and your waiting lips and your annoyance at being jump-scared fades. He smells like outside and a little bit like sweat, but underneath that, he still has his usual warm, homey scent that belongs only to him.

You let him take your breath away a little while longer, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. He rests his head against yours when you pull away, his eyes tired but still sparkling down at you.

“How was your guys' camping trip?”

“Well, Mingyu found a spider in his tent and tore the whole thing down trying to get out, Soonyoung got sunburnt and fell into the lake, and Vernon forgot his allergy medicine and spent all week sneezing.”

“So the usual shenanigans?”

With a chuckle, Joshua nods, looking you up and down. “Basically, but I’m having a much better time now that I’m back here with you.” He leans down to kiss your forehead and you still let yourself get flustered by his sweet words, even after three years together. “And what’s going on in here?” He asks when he finally pulls away, eyes looking over your head at the charred remains of your lunch.

“Nothing, just me fucking up in the kitchen again.” Pouting, you cross your arms, wincing as Joshua steps up to the counter, inspecting what’s remaining of the tofu.

“Ah baby, they don’t look that bad…” He uses the chopsticks you left nearby to poke at a piece, raising it to his face and sniffing it.

“Shua, don’t-” Before you can stop him, he pops it into his mouth, chewing extra slowly. Your boyfriend, always so sweet to you and considerate of your feelings, looks like he’s in physical pain as he crunches the food, his nose wrinkling with each shift of his jaw. With a sigh you walk over and grab a sheet of paper towel, holding it up to his mouth. “Spit it out.”

“It doesn’t taste terrible…” he mumbles between chews, eyebrows furrowing as he does.

“Joshua, just spit it out!” At your insistence he does, expression apologetic.

Joshua watches you take the rest of the tofu and throw it away, shoulders slumping in defeat. He moves across the kitchen to stand behind you, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Don’t be upset, baby. It’s just some tofu.”

“But I fucked up lunch for you! I just wanted to make you a homemade meal since you’ve been eating over a campfire all week.” Joshua coos at you, pulling you tighter against him.

“Aw, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do all this in the first place. I think we both know that you would’ve been better off ordering something. There’s a reason I do most of the cooking, remember?” He laughs, his tone teasing.

Gasping, you spin in his hold, round eyes staring up at him as you pout for what feels like the twentieth time tonight. “Joshie, are you saying I can’t cook?!”

Faltering, Joshua’s eyes dart back and forth, strategically planning his next words. 

“I - I didn’t mean that you can’t cook, Y/n. I just -”

“I’m kidding, Shua. Of course, I know I can’t cook.” He’s clearly relieved, rolling his eyes at your giggles. 

Joshua leans down to pepper your face with kisses, holding you close, ignoring your feeble attempt to escape his grasp.

“I guess it’s a good thing then that I wasn’t even thinking about what I’d eat for lunch.” He places a final kiss on your cheek before pulling back to gaze at you.

“You weren’t?”

“Of course not. How could I even begin to think about lunch when all I could think about was tasting you again?” Joshua smirks at you, laughing when you scoff, your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“How did I know you wouldn’t even be a little bit subtle about wanting to have sex as soon as you got back?” 

“Because you know how addicted I am to you and how much I think about you.” You and Joshua are chest to chest, his hands tracing your body, fingertips pressing lightly into your curves.

Joshua’s voice has already lowered an octave, eyes flickering to your lips. You’re in no way surprised at how quickly Joshua turned the situation from silly and domestic to horny, but you’re not bothered in the slightest, more than happy to fuck your boyfriend again. A week has been far too long of a time to go without Joshua’s cock inside of you.

“Oh, so you were thinking of me on your trip? Thought you’d be too busy grilling meat and playing games with the boys.” 

“Baby, I’m always thinking about you, but especially when we’re not together.” Joshua ducks down, his nose brushing yours. 

“And what about me were you thinking about exactly?” You whisper, holding your breath as you await his next words.

“Well, I was thinking all about how sweet your cunt is and how I couldn’t wait to come home and devour you.”

Somehow you hadn’t registered that Joshua walked you back until the counter pressed into your lower back, trapping you between it and Joshua’s firm body.

“Hmm…then I guess lunch is served whenever you’re ready to eat,” Tilting your head up, your lips brush against Joshua’s. You shift your leg forward, knee brushing against the crotch of his sweatpants. A grunt slips out of him when you make contact with his half-hard cock and he surges forward, lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. 

Joshua’s soft lips move against yours, his hands cupping your face to keep you close. Your hands trail up Joshua’s thick arms, tracing every ridge and dip of muscle. You’ve never been shy about how much you enjoy the new gym rat era he and a few of his friends have entered, making sure to be very obvious about the way you appreciate the new muscle he’s worked on gaining. He also doesn’t hide just how much he loves how the bulkier version of him turns you on, your boyfriend flexing for you so the muscles tense and loosen a few times under your fingertips.

Those same strong arms move to hold your waist, holding onto you as he swallows every pant and tiny whine that you let out. Joshua’s tongue wraps around yours and sucks, the kiss descending into lewd territory as Joshua grinds against your thigh still wedged between his legs.

The kiss feels like it goes on forever, which is in no way a complaint. Joshua’s hands wander all over your body, hands skating down to grab at your bare thighs and up to your ass, grabbing a handful to bring your hips impossibly closer. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, feeling your cotton panties clinging to you with each shuffle of the fabric. 

Joshua seems to read your mind as he finally moves a hand under your apron and into the waistband of your shorts and panties, his finger grazing your pussy making you jolt and buck into his hand.

“Would you look at that? You’re fucking drenched just from my kisses?” To illustrate his point, he pulls his fingers from your shorts, holding the wet digits up to showcase your juices to you both.

“Fuck, yeah, I need you so badly. I missed you so much.”

Joshua hums, popping his fingers into his mouth, eyes closing as he sucks them clean, savoring your flavor. The scene is enough to have you rubbing your thighs together, easily recalling just how good his tongue feels when it’s on you.

“Mmm, I missed you too, baby. And speaking of, I’m starving, so I think I’m ready to eat now.”

Joshua plants his hands on your hips and turns you around so his front is pressed against your back, walking with you out of the kitchen and around to the island, leaving kisses on the back of your neck as you go. When you reach the side of the island that you usually sit to eat at, Joshua’s nimble fingers untie your apron and lift it over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your shorts and panties come next as he slides the fabric down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.

Your boyfriend makes a sound of appreciation at the sight of your bare ass, big hands squeezing your cheeks before landing a firm smack on one of them. He helps you up onto the island, sitting you near the edge. Joshua pulls up a stool in front of you, spreading your legs wide, and letting out a low whistle.

“Look at all of this, so messy and sloppy all for me.” Joshua leans forward and places kisses on the inside of your thighs, inhaling your scent as he does, small moans rumbling in his throat.

A few whimpers slip out of you with each kiss over your hot skin, Joshua’s breath hitting your core only serving to make you wetter. Joshua loves eating you out, always talking about how good you taste and how much he loves the way you smell when you’re dripping for him.

He doesn’t leave you waiting for long this time (another thing Joshua loves is to tease you, but he seems to want you bad enough to spare you this time) as his tongue finally licks at your clit, the muscle flattening and adding much-needed pressure. 

A squeal of Joshua’s name tumbles out of you as he licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit - once, twice, three times, each go making you twitch underneath him. Your legs almost snap shut, but his firm grip keeps them open.

“Nuh-uh, keep your legs open, baby girl. I haven’t even started eating my meal.”

Your eyes stay trained on him as his hands grab the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you. You lie on your back in a more comfortable position, hands trembling as they hold onto the front of your shirt in anticipation.

“I’ll never get tired of eating you out, you know that? Never get tired of how fucking sweet you taste on my tongue.” To further his point, Joshua’s thick tongue slips into your pussy, lapping at your gummy walls, letting his nose brush against your clit.

“F-fuck!” Your hands dart down, fingers threading through his brunette strands, tugging at the root as he tongue fucks you on the kitchen island. 

Every grunt and groan that Joshua lets out is deep, deep enough that the vibrations can be felt throughout your whole body. You can’t help but thrash underneath him, loud obscene slurping sounds fill the room as he works. Joshua’s hands keep your thighs pinned down, preventing you from nearly falling off the counter while his face presses closer to your cunt. 

He eats you out like a man starved, a week without your pussy proving to be much too long away for him. The tip of his tongue is still buried inside of you, flicking at your walls at an almost impossible speed. 

Fire begins to quickly pool in the pit of your stomach, nails digging into Joshua’s scalp which only spurs him on more.

“Shua, b-baby so good!”

“Mmph?” You can’t quite hear what he says but it sounds like it has a questioning tilt at the end.

“‘M gonna cum!”

That must’ve been what he was getting at because he picks up the pace and moves his hold on you to the sides of your thighs and makes you wrap your legs around his head. Joshua uses this new angle to force you to rock your hips against his face, leaning into you so far that when you glance down, all you see is the top of his hair which you’re still holding onto for dear life. 

Rolling your hips you go with his movement, desperately riding his face. Joshua lets you, his tongue drilling into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

When you do cum, you stiffen almost painfully as heat spreads through your body, your thighs squeezing around him like a vice, holding him in place. Your boyfriend happily continues lapping at your sensitive core, murmurs of praise accompanying his coos of delight.

“So fucking tasty,” Joshua sighs as he pulls back, finally taking in air through his mouth. He glances at you, watching your chest heave as you catch your breath. Without a second thought, with your hole still clenching around nothing, Joshua shoves one of his thick fingers into you, drawing a gasp out of you. 

“Shua!?”

He has the audacity to blink up at you, faux innocence on his face along with your juices still shining on the bottom half of his face.

“What? I want seconds.” He shrugs, adding a second finger which has you cursing, senses on overdrive. Joshua’s plush lips are back on your clit, sucking the nub into his mouth, ignoring the way your nails dig into his hair again, tugging on his soft locks. 

“Ngh, Josh-Joshua! Please!”

“Please what, baby?” He mumbles, lips still suckling on your clit, your legs quivering as they rest on his shoulders. His fingers have no trouble finding that soft squishy spot inside of you that has your eyes crossing, the squelching sound of your wetness ringing in your ears.

“I’m - I just…” You trail off when your boyfriend curls his fingers, the overstimulation derailing your train of thought as you feel another orgasm hurdling toward you. Joshua smirks up at you, loving the way he can literally watch as your brain short-circuits for him - because of him.

His lips go back to your clit, suctioning around the bud. His fingers delve into you faster, your velvety walls hugging his digits, coating them in more of your sticky arousal. Sweat beads at your hairline and tears prick your eyes as Joshua throws you into another orgasm, electricity coursing through your veins and a choked, desperate cry of Joshua’s name tumbling from your lips. 

“Yeah, just like that, good girl.” He purrs against your overworked pussy, slowly dragging his fingers out of you. You whimper at the loss, only for the sound to be replaced by a loud wail, Joshua’s slick fingers rubbing rough, frantic circles against your clit. 

“Shit! Fuck, Shua I’m - fuuuck!”

“Come on baby girl, one more. Make a mess all over the fucking counter.” The pads of his fingers drag against your clit, body arching as you flail your hands, scrambling across the marble of the counter looking for something to ground you.

The sensation borders on painful, the sensitivity too much to handle as the pleasure builds and your muscles spasm. When you cum this time, it knocks the wind out of you, your eyes rolling back, your mouth open in a silent scream. Joshua leans down, eyes watching with glee as you squirt all over his hand and arm, getting your mixture of arousal on his shirt. He even cranes his head down, mouth open to drink up the remaining spurts of your release.

He rubs lazy circles over your puffy clit, letting you ride out the rest of your orgasm until your hoarse voice begs him to stop and he does, but not before wiping up as much of your wetness as he can on his fingers and popping them into his mouth once again.

“Fucking hell, Shua!” You huff out when you’ve finally sucked enough air back into your lungs.

“What? I told you I was starving.” His cocky grin earns him a half-hearted kick to his shoulder using the minuscule amount of energy you have remaining. He catches your leg, placing a soft kiss on your ankle before he straightens up and sits back to admire your ruined state.

“Are you going to help me up or leave me here for the rest of the day?” 

“I should eat all of my meals in the kitchen, but I suppose I can help you down.” Joshua laughs at your half-hearted threat to kick him again and offers his hands to you. He helps you sit upright and slowly slides you off of the island. 

When you’re back on shaky feet, you move to pick your bottoms up, but he stops you by pulling you against him.

“Wh-”

“Oh, you don’t need those. I’m gonna order some lunch for us, but I need dessert before it gets here.” He presses his hips forward, his rock-hard dick pressing against your ass. Joshua once again envelops you in his warm embrace, lips skirting against the shell of your ear. “That okay with you, baby?”

Between the orgasms he pushed out of you only minutes ago and the dip in his voice, wetness collects between your legs again, pussy clenching at the thought of Joshua fucking you for real.

“That’s more than okay with me,” you rasp, clearing your throat. “I’m feeling pretty empty myself and am dying to be stuffed.”

[samkerrworshipper]

lap dance | alexia putellas x reader

the stripper r x post world champs alexia that everyone has been desperate for in my inbox, made for my horny girlies! wrote this instead of listening to my english lecture 😝 so enjoy the pure smut

warnings: strapons, smuts, cunnilingus, lap dances, stripping 18+ dni

You could feel the adrenaline and one shot of tequila you’d been given coursing through your body as you walked up towards the room you’d been assigned. The dressing gown that was covering your body very quickly started to feel a little bit too thin. You passed a lot of women, some still in their playing uniforms which told you they were players, some were similarly dressed to you, some were workers and security. Nobody paid much attention to you, why would they, you were background noise to them, not a person that was made to be looked at, or not at least like that. You let your heeled feet waltz down the hallway, trying to strum up as much confidence as you could, trying to lift your head from the floor so you looked like you were supposed to be here.

You peered up at the numbers across the doors in the hallway, watching as they slowly ticked closer to the one that was written on the piece of paper in your hands. When you finally did make it to the door you took a deep laboured breath, this shouldn’t have been stressing you out, it was your job, you did this for a living, but for some reason tonight it felt different, like there was more pressure on you. You’d trembled when you’d read the name of the woman you were to see, her reputation preceded her and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit intimidated by the thought of being in a room on your own with her. You mustered up the courage to bring your hand up to the door, knocking on it three times before taking a step back, waiting patiently for it to be opened up.

It didn’t take very long, a few seconds at most before you heard the lock unclick and the door swing open. The woman met you in the doorway, wearing her playing jersey, playing shorts and her medal slung around her neck. Her mostly washed out pink hair was a mess around her shoulders, unkempt, like she’d just climbed out of bed, which you supposed she probably could have. It was nearing 4am now and it wasn’t unlikely that between the partying and celebrations she’d tried to get a wink in, you didn’t really believe so, more just blamed in on the fact she’d just played a full game of soccer and probably partied her heart out, the celebrations were still taking place downstairs, the steady sound of music coursing through the hotel carpet.

“Do you plan to stand in my doorway all night?”

Her voice was hoarse, probably from the alcohol and partying, it added a different level of sexuality to her voice, deepening it, making it rougher.

“Sorry.”

You gulped, your voice sounded so meek in comparison to hers, normally you were cocky, confident but she had an effect on you, made you second guess every single thing that you were feeling or thinking.

“Don’t be sorry, are you coming in or not?”

Her lip curled up into a sardonic smile, her head tilting at me from her spot leaning against the door, her mouth hanging open and sinful thoughts plaguing my mind of just how much that mouth could do.

“Yes, sorry.”

You tucked your head back down towards the floor, letting her open the door further to you and you taking some very tentative steps into the space. She clicked the door again behind you, the click sending a jolt of shocks across your body, the sudden realisation that you were alone with the woman in her hotel room starting to set in.

She walked out in front of you, swishing her way past your body over into the corner, where a lone armchair sat. She sat down, her legs settling in a manspread and her elbows falling down onto them, her eyes falling onto you. You could feel her gaze, and suddenly you felt so self conscious, something you’d never experienced before, your job was to strut around half naked, self consciousness was something that you’d lost over the years, but now it was all you could feel.

“Why don’t you show me what you’ve got on underneath that robe?”

Her voice was thicker, still coarse and almost grainy but less so, like she was trying to emit her dominance in the situation.

You pulled at the tie at your waist, you’d made the decision to pick a red set, spanish colours. You shrugged the robe off of your shoulders, letting the silk pool at your feet. You’d never felt so insecure in your own skin, allowing your eyes to lift up to the older woman’s. She wore a rather tantalising smirk, her pearly teeth showing to you. You bit down on your lip, nibbling on it slightly as you waited for her to say something, normally you’d initiate, or you’d start something but something about this felt so different, so much more personal than you knew it truly was.

“Come here.”

Her voice was commanding, so much so that you couldn’t help but propel yourself forward towards the woman, only stopping when you were a few centimetres away from your own legs knocking against her knees. Her hand reached up to you, coming into contact with your knee and rubbing your milky skin softly with her olive palm.

“What’s your name?”

Her eyes were curious, they betrayed everything else she was portraying to you.

“Y/n.”

She smirked at you a little bit, nodding as she continued to roll your skin through her hands, like you were putty in her hands.

“I’m Alexia, although you probably already know that. How old are you, y/n?”

Your name rolled off of her tongue so perfectly, her spanish accent mixing with the coarseness of her tone sent your mind to places that you could never explain.

“19.”

There was only a ten year age difference between you and yet she felt so much older, so much more experienced, so much more accomplished than you ever would be.

“So young, how long have you been in the business?”

You gulped, Alexia seemed so genuinely interested in you, it was weird, you’d never had a client take any particular interest in you.

“17.”

It wasn’t an age you were proud of, and normally you wouldn’t openly admit that to client, but something about Alexia made you feel like you had to be honest with her.

Her hand kept at your leg, rubbing it ever so gently.

“You want to be here?”

You nodded at Alexia, absolutely no hesitation in your mind.

“Okay then sweet, why don’t you do a dance for me.”

Her voice was so calm, like she was talking about her breakfast. Her hand released from your leg, pushing you a few centimetres away from her, allowing you the room to make up your mind. One of her eyebrows rose, a small chuckle leaving her lips as her eyes raked over your body for the first time, admiring the red lingerie that accentuated your body perfectly. The pieces that you’d picked hugged your curves perfectly, you looked like a goddess. She let out a drawn out exhale, which was enough to give you some confidence, enough to perk you up a little bit.

Alexia waved you over to her lap, walking forwards so you were standing inbetween her legs, looking down at her.

“So pretty.”

Her words were murmured, a chesty whisper that was meant for only you.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed her, swivelling on your heels so you were facing nothing but wall. She quickly grabbed your hips, pulling you down directly so you were sitting on her lap. You gasped slightly at the sudden contact, it was nothing you weren’t used to, hell some clients threw you around like you were a ragdoll, but it surprised you all the same even though you knew it was coming.

“I know calm, bebita, calm.”

Her words were cooed directly into your ear, her hot breath brushing against the hairs on your neck. She gently wrapped her arm around your waist, running her hands from your knees to your hips at an agonisingly slow pace, you unconsciously opened up your legs on her lap, completely opening yourself up for her.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

My words were soft, a whisper, she grunted in response, her hot breath continuing to brush against your neck. You took a quick breath to relax yourself before leaning down against Alexia, pressing your ass down against her lap, beginning to grind up and down on her. Alexia, involuntarily, bucks her hips up into you almost immediately, and you smile at your achievement. Her hands begin to guide you, up and down her body as you grind down onto her, slowly finding your rhythm and rocking back and forth on her body. This is something you know you are good at, something that you know how to do.

Eventually you build up the confidence to reach down to your side, pulling Alexia’s hand from your hip and bringing it up to your breast, letting her hand graze over the silk and lace. Alexia palmed her hand over your tit, her hand almost big enough to hold it in one hand. You leant back into her, letting her hand explore the material and skin, her fingers pressing down, squeezing your breast, she huffs into your ear, clearly affected by your motions. It was normal, you witnessed it at work all the time clients getting hot and bothered, however, this wasn’t just any client, this was Alexia Putellas, world champion, the very woman you gushed over when she appeared on your tv, the same woman who was now panting in your ear.

You feel some worry wash over you as you continue to dance on her lap, using your heels to help you grind down harshly against her bare legs. You shouldn’t be getting wet over a client. Was she a client? Is she paying for you, or is the Spanish team paying for you? A million thoughts were running across your mind, so many unprofessional thoughts. You didn’t allow yourself to engage in sexual acts with a client, just a dance, so this must have been more than that. You were thinking so hard, your brain in another dimension that you didn’t even realise Alexia’s hand running down over your clothed heat. The only thing that managed to snap you out of your trance was when Alexia’s palm rubbed down against your covered clit.

“So wet bebita, all for me?”

Her voice was teasing, gentle but cheeky, like she was trying to edge some kind of fire out of you, some kind of passion, and it worked. You lived for this kind of attention, this kind of adrenaline. You swivelled around quickly, diving into her lips. Her tongue quickly pushed to your lips, requesting entry that you very quickly granted. She grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your legs were placed on either side of her hips, so you were straddling her waist. The only sound in the room was the sound of you and Alexia’s mouths against each other, her lips very quickly asserting dominance in the kiss, her hand finding its way to your chin and gripping it brutally.

She tasted like tequila and champagne, a combination that was welcome to your tongue. Your mouths matched each other perfectly, working against each other in synchronisation. Your hand fell to the hem of Alexia’s jersey, tugging at it. She seemed to get the memo, reaching down to meet your hand at the hem and tugging it quickly over her head, only breaking your kiss for a split second to throw the jersey somewhere across the room. You continued grinding down against her hips as her lips continued their assault on yours.

Eventually, when Alexia’s actions really begin to get to you, you slid yourself off of her hips, ungracefully landing on the floor between her legs and beginning to press a series of kisses to her torso, her abs rock hard under your lips, a perfect contrast to the her soft lips. Her breath hitched when your mouth connected with her clothed mound, making you smile up at her with hooded eyes, your eyelashes fluttering up at her innocently. Her pupils were completely blown, her hazel eyes meeting your own from your spot on the floor.

You ever so carefully hooked your fingers in the band of her shorts, tugging them down her muscular thighs and calves, leaving her glistening, beautiful sex right in front of your face. Her breathing quickens almost immediately the second your lips make contact with her heat, your soft pillowy lips pressing down gently on her clit in a quick peck. She moaned almost immediately, her back arching against the armchair as you let your head dip lower, your tongue darting out of your mouth and sliding perfectly through her wetness, you leave open mouth kisses all over her thighs and pussy. You lick a thick stripe up and down with your tongue, revelling in the way that she moaned deeply at your ministrations. You begin to suck on her clit, leading her to take your hair in her hands, tugging you up further into her pool of heat. You continue to suck shamelessly on her clit, enjoying the amount of pleasure that she was getting from your throat and the amount of pleasure you were getting from her hand being entangled in your hair.

She begins to get frantic with her thrusts against your face, and as soon as you begin to bite on her clit it was clear that she was teetering on the edge, her legs shaking wildly on either side of your head and her thighs tightening around your head as she began to hump your head, grinding down against your lips furiously chasing her own release. You moved down, pushing your tongue into her pussy and it was apparently enough to send Alexia over the edge, her legs spasming and her cunt convulsing around your tongue, illicit moans and dirty words flowing freely from her mouth as you kissed her cunt gently and licked up the cum leaking from her hole as the aftershocks ran rampant through her body.

As her body began to still she pulled you up off the carpet by your hair, reaching out for your waist and bringing you to come and sit down on her lap. She pulled you into a gentle kiss, her lips moving gently against yours and absorbing the taste of her on your tongue. Alexia pulled at your bra, reaching around to the back of the red lace and unclicking the clasp, helping you to pull the straps over your shoulders and then fling the bra somewhere onto the hotel room floor, joining Alexia’s shorts and your robe. Alexia’s hands immediately went to your breasts, rolling the flesh in her hands and groaning at the feeling of your pebbled nipples in her hands. Every touch from her hands set you on fire, a wave of incredible shocks that went straight to the wet patch between your legs.

Alexia’s kiss slowly got more heated, her energy rejuvenated and apparently her sexual desire heightening again. One of her hands travelled down to the band of your panties, snapping it against your hips, Alexia clearly finding joy in the moan of mixed pain and pleasure that you enjoyed so much. She smirked against your lips, her practised fingers dancing across your skin drawing intricate patterns over the surface.

You moaned easily into her mouth, the feeling of her hands pinching and prodding at your skin being absolutely delightful. It lit a passion inside of you, a fire that couldn’t be put out, not until Alexia was finally touching the parts of you that needed her the most.

“Please.”

Your words were muffled by her lips, but she understood them, understood exactly what you needed, she still wanted to tease you though, still wanted to work you up.

“What do you want bebita? What do you want from me?”

You moaned again into her mouth, your hips rocking against her lap and your body leaning into wherever her hand would lay itself, chasing her, chasing anything she would give you.

“Fuck, ma’am, fuck me please.”

Alexia smirked against your lips, detaching them and reaching down to your neck, latching them onto your soft skin and beginning to suck and bite at the sensitive spots that littered your neck.

“Such good manners I think I can do that for you, get up on the bed for me niña bonita, on your back, panties off.”

Your whole body shook with her words, you immediately leapt off of her lap, jumping straight onto the bed as to not disobey her, flipping yourself over so your head was resting on the pillows and your legs were laying open for her, you quickly pulled your panties off, slipping them out from under your ass and down your legs, readying yourself for her as she’d asked.

Alexia stumbled around the foot of the bed, picking up something from her suitcase, you very quickly discovered that something was a strap on, one with a rather large clear dildo attached to it. Alexia very quickly pulled the strap on, adjusting the harness quickly so it was fastened to her hips before jumping up beside you on the bed.

She leant over the top of you, her face mere centimetres away from your face as she smirked down at you, her tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth. With a split second her lips were no longer hanging above your own, instead pressed to your wetness. It was pure ecstasy, enough to throw you over the edge immediately. Alexia was gentle, clearly working you up to what was lying between her legs.

You were a soaking mess, your back arching against the sheets and sinful moans flowing like a waterfall from your mouth. Alexia slowly began to work a knuckle into you, when she found no resistance she began to pump the finger in and out, gently working in it and out of your wetness.

“Alexia, please, fuck, more.”

Alexia obliged your request, beginning to work a second one in, again finding no resistance and beginning to piston the fingers in and out of your hole, curling them gently upwards. She was pushing you, edging you up, but you knew that this wasn’t the main event, this wasn’t what she was building up to. So you let her work you up, moans and curses cascading from your lips as Alexia’s fingers put you in a near drugged up state, pure pleasure fueling your body. She pushed you until you were a stuttering mess, before removing her fingers completely.

She moved up your body, coming up to meet you in a tantalising kiss, her lips were a dream, the mix of alcohol and pleasure on her tongue something so inexplicably perfect that you were sure it had to be a imagination.

Alexia’s mouth was perfection, sliding against yours in complete rhythm.

“Do you want me to fuck you bebita, pound you into the mattress?”

You moaned shamelessly into her mouth, nodding your head quickly, you pleasured haze not being enough to stop you from telling Alexia just how much you wanted that.

“Please, fuck, Alexia, please fuck me.”

Alexia once again smirked sardonically against your lips, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards.

You felt the silicone rubbing against your folds, gently caressing the wetness before locating your hole, Alexia pushing just the tip in, leaving you desperate for more. You whined at her, making your displeasure at her teasing evident.

“C’mon bebita, use your words, ask me for the rest.”

You felt a furious blush rising on your cheeks, you pushing your head into your shoulder as you suddenly felt very shy from the words of the footballer.

“No hiding from me, tell me what you want, and I’ll give you it.”

Alexia reached down to your face, pushing it out of your shoulder so you were face to face with her, hazel eyes bearing down on you.

“Please fuck me, please fill me up.”

Alexia obeyed your request immediately, thrusting her cock into you fully. You moaned at the stretch, Alexia stilling her movements to let you adjust to the sudden, but very welcome intrusion. As soon as you nodded at her she began moving, starting with slow and deep strokes, you mindlessly pushing your hips against hers to meet her at every single thrust, it’s magical, indescribable pleasure. Alexia’s hands come up to your breasts and her mouth once again finds your neck, attacking it brutally and leaving marks and bites all over it. You can feel yourself beginning to come undone, and it is then that you realise Alexia’s medal is still dangling from her neck, the gold piece of metal swaying back and forth between her breasts as she quickens her thrusts, beginning to pound in and out of you. It’s a beautiful sight, something no artist could capture.

Your legs begin to tremble, a clear sign that you are nearing your high and just as you are about to tell Alexia you are going to cum, she removes contact from you completely, leaving you vulnerable and wanting on the mattress.

“Alexia.”

You whine at her, your pussy clenching around air, instead of Alexia’s cock that a few mere seconds ago had been filling you to the brim.

She circled your hole with her tip, teasing, you’re grateful for the contact but also so desperate for more.

“Beg for me amor.”

This time you felt no shame asking for what you wanted, felt no shame telling Alexia that.

“Please Alexia, put it back in, please give me your cock, I’ve been good for you haven’t I? Fuck me, please? Please make me cum, I’m trying so hard to be good for you, I’ll be so good, please.”

Your words seemed to be enough for Alexia, the woman began to wildly thrust into you, her hands and lips restarting their previous movements up again, this time with more edge, more urgency. This time when you found yourself on the edge Alexia didn’t retract her movements, instead wheyour legs began to tremble she began to fasten her movements. She fucked you like she knew every part of your body, like she knew you like the back of her own palm.

“Alexia, fuck, fuck, going to cum, please let me cum.”

She nodded at you and that was enough permission for you, enough fuel to send you plummeting over the edge into an exquisite orgasm, like you’d never experienced. You saw stars, your vision going pitch black as the pure pleasure coursed all the way through your bones and body, sending shocks and unmeasurable amounts of pleasure that Alexia had given you.

Alexia slowed her movements, although did not cease her thrusts completely, slowly bringing you down from your high. As soon as the big wave faded you regained your vision and enough of your sense to feel just how overstimulated you were. You mewled at Alexia, pushing her away from you and she slowly but surely withdrew, collapsing beside you on the bed and pulling your head into her chest as you came down from your high.

She placed gentle kisses on your forehead and jawbone, watching lovingly as you slowly came back to earth, slowly beginning to regain more energy. You gazed up at her, a post orgasm dazed bliss being the only thing displayed on your face. You looked at Alexia, realising she had now removed her explicit appendage and was lying beside you on the bed, bare beside the medal that she still had hanging around her throat.

Everything about how she was treating you was so intimate, so gentle, so unlike anything you ever experienced with your other clients. To most of the people you serviced you were just another body, just another sex toy to be hired out and paid, you gave people a show, serviced them and then they left. None of them were this gentle, this wrapped up in your own contentment.

“How are you feeling?”

Alexia’s words were soft, a lot softer in contrast to the words that she’d been moaning at you a few minutes ago.

“Sore, but good, how about you?”

Your voice was just as hoarse as Alexia’s now, lost from your moans and screams.

“Not too sore?”

There was the underlying theme of worry in Alexia’s voice, something you were so unused to.

“No, I’ll be okay.”

Alexia nodded, leaning down again to press another kiss to your forehead.

“I should probably leave, I don’t want to be a bother.”

It was the truth, you didn’t want to distract Alexia from her victory or make her feel like she had to care for you. Just as you were about to remove yourself from her arms she stopped you, pulling you back down to her chest tightly.

“Nonsense, unless you want to leave you are very welcome, I want to make sure that you are okay, that was a little rough and it would be understandable if you were feeling a little bit spacey.”

You bit you lip, this was so irregular, you were a stripper, a sex worker, you weren’t supposed to have this kind of niceness, weren’t supposed to be granted these kinds of kindness.

“It’s my job, I feel fine, I can go for round two if you want.”

There was a little bit too much bite to your tone, enough for Alexia to tighten her grip on you.

“I know I don’t know you, but regardless of whether or not this is your job it’s okay for you to feel sore or like you want to take a breather, I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to.”

Alexia was being so tender underneath the dimly lit lamplight.

“I feel good, I promise, I don’t think I’ve ever cum harder in my life, and I’d love to do it again, in the shower?”

Alexia smirked at you, chuckling at your admission.

“That is definitely something I won’t object to, but first, let’s just take a breather, I know you say you're fine but just let your elder have a moment to breathe.”

Conversation between you and Alexia flowed so freely, like you’d known each other for years, like you weren’t two bedmates that would most likely never see each other again after tonight.

“Okay grandma, take your time, I’ll just go get myself off with the shower head.”

You jumped off of the bed, running towards the ensuite and not missing the sound of Alexia’s feet pattering after you, chasing you into the bathroom, raring to go again, something that you were less than objectionable to.

[heyidkyay]

Pause it, play it, pause it, play it | Market girl AU

Matty x marketseller!reader

Summary: Saturday's are always the same working the stall, until a stranger stops in to disrupt your cassette display...

Authors note: A one shot for you, needed something to help me with a little writer's block so I hope it's alright! Nothing too detailed, mostly just fluff, just saw that middle picture and the idea took root:)

--

“Oi, Rob… You see where I set those new slips I just had?” I called out loudly, riffling my way through the boxes I’d brought over from the van that very same morning. “I swear I left them here in one of these lot.”

Rob seemed to shuffle over towards me at the beckon, peering around the tent whilst I pulled apart one box’s contents. 

I huffed when I heard a familiar crunch and looked over my shoulder to see him stood there munching on an apple. “Nah, babe. Sorry. I can ‘ave a look though if you want, got Nance watchin’ out for me.” ‘Nance’ being Nancy, Rob’s massive Alsatian that had once been his grandad’s guard-dog when he’d manned the stall years back. 

With a soft chuckle I pushed myself up onto my feet once more, tucking my hair behind my ears as I went. 

“Have at, can’t for the life of me find them.” I told him, watching on in growing amusement as he bit down on the green fruit to hold it between his teeth whilst he mooched about the pyramid of cardboard boxes for me, “Sure you’ll still have enough left to sell? Last Saturday you ate your way through six of those, the one before that was the highest yet, at eight.”

Huffing, Rob took another bite of his apple and then shot me a wink. “Keepin’ an eye on me, are you?”

I rolled my eyes as a breathy laugh escaped me, falling against the stall’s main bench so that I could cross my arms over my chest. 

A quick glance at the time told me that we still had a while yet ‘til it hit nine and the market opened properly, letting that first bit of crowd sail in. Though I’d always found it was easier most days to just enjoy the atmosphere that was Portobello, instead of focusing in on the imminent mob.

See, I’d been at the market since I were nine, working the vintage stretch with my mum and aunt, having grown all too fond of the people and their many eccentricities. Rob was of the same cloth, though a tad bit older, just enough that I’d had the fattest crush on him and that East London accent of his as a kid. 

It had faded over time, mind, what with him jetting off a couple years back when he’d been a holiday rep in Ibiza and me realising that I’d wanted to try my luck at art school. Not that either of those things had worked out, which had ultimately led us back here, surprised not to be rid of the other.

He was as close as I could get to a best mate though. Strange yeah, but he was family, wasn’t he? Everyone who worked the market was.

“With an arse like that? Always.” I retorted easily enough to have him laughing along with me and shaking his head at my antics. Something he’d grown all too used to in the recent years since I’d come back and made my mark with a stall of my own.

It wasn’t anything too grand, my stall. Nothing like the tourist trapping shops that sat a little further down, but sweet enough for the likes of me and the massive music collection I managed to drag down here each weekend. Set up was always mad, yes, but with Rob, Nancy and a few other early starters, time slipped away quick enough.

“Here we go then.”

I blinked and looked back over at Rob, who was now beaming brightly at the set of LP slips I’d ordered in special, waving them about in smarmy pride. I swatted his side as I made a grab for the things, only to have him lift them up higher to where I couldn’t reach. 

“Don't be a twat, pass them over. We open in five!”

Rob simply chuckled in retort, taking another chomp out of that apple of his. “A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I would’ve gotten to it!” I swiftly shot back, jumping up to swipe them from his grasp and grinning in triumph when I managed it. He only laughed, a slight rasp working its way into it like it typically did. “Thanks.” I added after I’d thumbed through the lot, smiling up at him as he made his way to the other side of the tent. 

“Buy me a pint and we’ll call it even, treacle.”

I gave him a roll of my eyes, but agreed without much fuss. “Fine, but just the one, tight arse.”

His hearty chuckle filled the steadily growing street of sellers and I watched on as he stroked Nancy’s collar before settling back in at his own stall which resided by mine.

“Penny’s take care of the pounds, my darlin’.”

I raised a single brow and tucked the slips into one of the closer vinyl cubbies- 70’s Proto-punk wasn’t much of a seller anyway. “You mean, look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.”

Rob clucked his tongue, waving the correction away with the hand that held his apple core, “Alright, smart-arse. You knew what I meant.”

I smirked, tittering quietly to myself whilst he settled his usual bum bag around his hips. It suited him, I thought, the neon green pouch sitting atop that awful red and white apron he’d pinched off the butchers up in Notting Hill when he’d worked there for a weekend. Though I much preferred my own, my nephew having decked it out in all sorts of pins and patches for me a while back now. 

With that Rob and I settled into our own stations, me taking perch on the old wooden stool I’d found in the back of a garden shed, and Rob being his usual loudmouth self, beckoning the arriving customers on closer.  

The crowd grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to ten, lots of people stopped by to have a chat or a look round, a few purchased a couple of bits. It was mainly just the vinyls that sold these days, but I still had posters, cd’s, and even cassettes on show.

It wasn’t usual for the cassettes to get a good look over though, mainly just a ‘Oh! Do you remember them?’ and then a small laugh before people eventually moved on. Which was why I was more than a little surprised to see a figure having a right old rummage through the steady collection I owned, once I’d managed to wrap up another sale. 

Glancing about, I spotted a pair of old birds flirting with Rob by the pears, Nance having gone to settle herself down by my bag in the back to hide from their gentle clucking, and how the crowded mob had thinned out a tad since most people had made their way further down the road’s neck.

I tucked the few notes I held into my pouch and stepped over a tangle of cables to make my way closer to the person, taking in their too big graphic tee and the tight zip up that had been layered over top of it. The nearer I grew the more I spotted though, the slight nod of a head as fingers worked their way deftly through the collection, the array of dark curls that poked their way out of the sides of a worn cap, and then the tiny hoop which dangled from a right earlobe. 

“Looking for something specific?”

The bloke didn’t startle much, there was no real jump at the sound of my voice, only the slight tilt of his head, as though he was used to being caught off guard. I watched him closer after that, noting how his thumb trailed across one of the few Sonic Youth singles I had.

“Their ‘86 album?”

His voice was gentler than I’d first been expecting, rasped with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I blinked at his ask, skimming through the catalogue of tapes my mind offered me, which hardly ever seemed to move from their typical place of sorting. 

“Um, top right? Should be one there, got Sister and Goo too, if I’m not wrong. Though the ‘88 album seems to be their most popular- even in cassette form.” I had rambled a tad there, I knew that much, but it was all part of the job to me. Talk and talk until they either fled the scene or decided to buy more than what they’d first come for. “You into cassettes then?”

He gave me a low chuckle and pulled away from the stand slightly, it was then that I caught sight of his face, a tad bit stubbled and lips parted almost in wait. He must’ve been closer to Rob’s age than my own.

I raised a brow when he didn’t offer me an answer, tilting my head in turn. “Or, is it a gift of some sort?” I dragged out.

With a blink, he seemed to stand a little taller and I noticed he only had an inch or two on me.

“Er, no.” He muttered, before mimicking my head’s movement and propping his elbow up on the cassette stand almost as if he was attempting to suss me out. It took a second before he finally flashed me a slow but genuine smile, “Looking for a certain sound. Some tapes sound better than the actual record so I figured here would be my best bet.”

I hummed, crossing one ankle over the other. “The further back you go you can hear it, but most of their stuff's good either way.”

He smirked as he settled in further, looking out at me from under the brim of his cap, “Aren’t you meant to be selling it to me?”

My laughter couldn’t have been helped because he did have a point there, only… “It’s just not everyday that someone pops by to talk about music mediums with me.” I argued, all too pleased when I heard him give another hearty chuckle in reply, “So forgive me for my excitement.”

“Will do.” He simpered, eyes flicking down to where he still held the Evol tape, I reached out to tap its plastic top.

“That one’s known for its ballads, if that’s something you’re into, but,” I practically sang before peering round him to see if I could find the one cassette case I was thinking of, “If you’re wanting a specific sound then A Thousand Leaves is probably worth giving a listen to. Personally I don’t think it got the recognition it deserved, but there was a lot of experimenting whilst also managing not to betray their roots, you know? It’s softer, smoother, and the guitars are almost unmatched.”

When I went to hand it over to him just to have a look at, I found him already watching me with this inscrutable sort of expression. I merely brushed it off, figuring that he’d just leave if he did eventually grow tired of my ranting, then turned slightly when a round of whispers echoed around the tent. It seemed a few younger girls had wandered straight on over to the independent artists section I had placed by the front and were arguing over who got this one Sam Fender album.

I looked away and went to say something else to him, but the way he'd simultaneously moved to angle his back away from the cassette tapes when he too spotted the new arrivals wasn't lost on me. I frowned a tad, though chose not to comment on it. “So, what sort of sound are you searching for anyway?”

His gaze skittered away from the tapes to meet mine for a second and I wondered, briefly, why he’d so suddenly lost the relaxed stance he’d been in just minutes before, but then he said, “Anything I haven’t heard much of before, in truth.”

Mulling his words over I then gestured towards the stand. “Can I?” I gestured, and immediately he knew where I was going with it, jumping back a step to let me riffle through the lot. 

I pulled out a couple I figured he might be into, simply going off of the Sonic Youth album he’d been eyeing, then a few of my own favourites, not that I’d let that tidbit slip. 

Handing them over, I let him search through their titles and answered one or two questions he had for me. I had to admit he intrigued me a bit, I’d had music enthusiasts stop by and talk about this and that with me, even had a couple people who played and were searching for new stuff to learn and adapt, but him? He didn’t give much away.

“Any good?” I questioned once I'd wandered back over to join him. I’d only left him to look through the selection again when a customer had called me over towards the front, and was just tucking away the few extra coins I’d been given when he glanced up at me with a bright grin. I was a little surprised to say it caught me off balance a bit.

“I’ll take the lot.”

Trying my hardest not to outright baulk, I paused. “The lot?”

Sure, cassettes weren’t all that pricey, not compared to pressed records at least, but there must’ve been just over a dozen that I’d pulled out to show him and now he supposedly wanted to take them all.

He laughed after a moment, most likely at the baffled look that marred my face, and made to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “That gonna be a problem?”

The question was almost argumentative, pushy even, but in a jokey sort of way, the kind you’d use when ribbing a mate, not now. Not with some stranger at a market stall. It only left me marvelling further.

“Might be, I’ll have to find a bag big enough to fit them all though.” I countered, hiding my own smile when I heard him laugh again whilst I spun around to fetch exactly that.

“Anything will do, love.”

I dipped my chin in a slight nod but didn’t go right for the usual stack of black baggies I used for most sales, instead I swiped one of the few printed totes I had hung up for trade and tallied up the price. “You gonna be alright walking the rest of the market stretch with that?” I teased him, looking up once the transaction completed to hand him the now very full bag only to find him already looking back at me.

He hummed around a sly smile, fingers meeting mine around the totes handle before they were slipping away again. “Think I’ll make do. Only came looking for these anyway.”

My brows jumped up in surprise as I watched him tuck his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. “Everyone loves Portobello.” I murmured and his light laughter echoed around the market stall once more before he simply shrugged. 

“Been a couple times before, and besides, don't reckon I’ll get a better deal than this, do you?”

My eyes narrowed when I smiled, humoured by his easy going nature and quick quips. I found that I wanted him to stick around a while longer, if only to solve the mystery he made. “No, don't reckon so.”

He lingered for a moment or two more, simply smiling at me and I found myself smiling back, before a gaggle of school kids wandered on over, loud and uncaring of the looks they garnered. They caught my attention too and I found myself reminiscing over years where I’d been much of the same. 

When I glanced back over to him, I saw that he was gone. My forehead pinched in confusion and I glanced around to see if I could spot him in the busy crowd, but it had grown all too quickly again and appeared easy enough for anyone to get swept up and lost in. 

I rocked back on my heels as I gave up the search, just before I was called over by one of the kids asking for a specific LP. I let it go, him and the strange encounter we’d shared, and went about the rest of the day just going through the motions.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around I was shattered and had already packed most of the stall away. I waited patiently for Rob to help me with loading the larger bits into the van, watching Nance for him whilst he wrapped up what remained of the fruit and veg, knowing he’d take most of it back home to his family. It was at that moment that I caught sight of something amiss in the vinyl cubby I’d used to hide those slipcovers in just before we'd opened. 

I walked over and was more than a little dumbfounded to spot a cassette lying there on its side. Standing On A Beach. One of The Cure albums I’d mentioned to that bloke in the cap earlier, the very same he’d gone and bought, and the exact one I was more than sure I’d bagged. 

I picked it up, feeling Nancy brush up against my side whilst Rob called out to say that he was just dropping off his usual round of goodybags to the nearby sellers. I waved him off, then looked down at the tape I held, pausing when my thumb caught on something attached to the back. 

Flipping it over I found a quickly scribbled note, its corner tucked into the case's opening so that it would hold its place. 

(It sounded like you enjoyed this one when I asked about it. Know it’s a first edition too, so I figured maybe you should be the one keep it. - Matty.)

Matty.

“What you smiling at, weirdo?”

I startled at the sound of Rob’s usual drawl, head snapping over to my left to find him already trailing back towards us, a happy grin plastered over his face. 

“Go on, tell us!” He ribbed, and now that he was drawing nearer I was quick to tuck the note into my back pocket. 

“Nothing, just this tape. Figured I’d keep it.” I told him with a small shrug, clutching the cassette closer when he hip checked me in passing and bent down to give Nancy a good old stroke.

“Thieving your own gear! Wow, that’s a new low even for you.” Rob chuckled, shooting me a bright smile before he stood once more.

“Hush up, it’s a goodun. Forgot I even had it.” I defended, but he merely continued to laugh at me. Rolling my eyes, I shoved his arm lightly before I said, “Now be useful for once and grab the last of those boxes for us, will you.”

“Tetchy.”

I simply snorted, shaking my head as I moved to pick up my bag, clinging to the old cassette case for a second before finally dropping it inside. 

“You coming then?”

With a deep breath I took one last glance around the stall and didn’t see anything that had been missed, so I wiped down my jeans and then gave Nance another pet, “Yeah, coming!”

…

My week continued on much the same after that. I worked in the local pub behind the bar when I wasn’t performing on the crate stage there and on my day off I took the tube over to see my mum and nan. They lived further East nowadays, closer to the clinic my nana hated but needed, and not too far from the street she’d grown up on as a girl.

Saturdays were my only market days, even though it was open most of the week. Rob usually did Fridays there and the rare Tuesday too, when he could be arsed. Though the rest of his time was used up by frequenting the old boxing club every other evening, training and helping out with the younger lot that liked to come in. I’d only been half a dozen times, but he was very much in his element there.

So in shorter terms, my week had slipped on by without much fanfare, which meant that Saturday had seemed to both crawl and shoot back around. 

I opened the stall like usual, only without Rob for the first time in ages. He had apparently come down with some sort of bug or other that he’d gone and caught off of his nieces when he’d popped round to see them Wednesday afternoon- and well, he was a man, wasn't he? Which ultimately meant that he was dying. 

He’d let me have Nancy though, seeing as she hadn’t been out very much since the cold had hit him. So the Alsatian had jumped in my van that same morning and had been as good as gold all day. To be honest, she was a much better seller than me and I could see why Rob always brought her along with him, people seemed to flock to dogs which in turn meant more sales for me.

I’d been fanning the crowds away ever since we’d opened, which typically only tended to happen during half term or school holidays, but nonetheless it was a more than welcome change after the crappy tips I’d garnered down at the pub the night before.

‘Cause well, since I’d dropped out of school I’d taken to performing there on the more livelier nights, a few covers, one or two of my own songs, and then I’d end the set and slide behind the bar to serve. Normally I was fine with that, the tips were often good when both the older folk and the younger lot rolled in, Friday nights especially. Only, there’d been a gig on down at the O2 so we hadn’t gotten our usual patrons in, and had instead been sacked with a couple of stragglers and a less than lively lot.

Still, today more than made up for it.

The sun was shining as much as it could do during a London March, the skies were blue although not completely clear, and the market crowd seemed to be in good spirits too.

Sy, who worked a couple stands down, had passed out a tray of coffees not too long ago, just after the lunchtime rush, and then Dianne and Reg had followed with some of their freshly baked pastries. They’d even thought to bring a little treat over for Nance too. 

I'd just texted a picture to Rob to show him what he’d missed out on by having a case of man-flu and had just got up to toss the last of the rubbish away when I was caught off guard by an unexpected surprise.

“You!”

Matty, my mind supplied a half a second later. The same name that had been circling my thoughts since he’d left me that note the Saturday prior. I blinked at the sight of him. He was wearing a cap again, although this one was different, a dusky navy blue that he’d gone and tucked under a giant grey hoodie. 

“Me.” He grinned in glinted amusement, jutting out his chin in a gentle hello. “Figured I might find you here.”

The snort I gave was unprecedented, “Oh, really? Wonder what gave that away.”

Matty smirked. Matty. It felt strange to put his name to his face then, even though it had been puttering around in my head like the bouncing DVD logo since the last time we’d met. 

“Got any more tapes for me then?”

My eyes squinted in my attempt to dim my smile, not really believing that he was actually here, before I pursed my lips and tilted my head at him. “Might do. Take it you liked the last few?”

He hummed, smiling down at Nancy who’d trailed on over and allowing her to sniff at his hand. When she nudged his leg with her snout I watched on as he dropped into a crouch to give her a proper stroke. Nance seemed to be quite taken with him after that. 

I propped a hip against the nearest vinyl cubby, crossing my arms over my chest whilst he replied, “They were good- helped a lot, in truth. You were right about the Roxy Music album, too.”

Chuffed with that, I shot him a pleased little grin. 

“You’ll come to learn that it’s to be expected.”

“What, you bein’ right?” Matty wondered with a low laugh, petting Nancy’s head once more before he forced himself back up onto his feet. 

“What I said, in’t it?”

He shook his head softly and I felt his eyes on me before I finally gestured him on over to the cassette stand. “I found a few new ones in the charity shop near my mum’s the other day, figured it’d be best to add to the collection after you nearly took the lot.” 

“Wow, and she’s dramatic too.”

I swatted his arm thoughtlessly, then stilled the second I realised what I’d done, but Matty was either none the wiser to my momentary pause or just didn’t care. “That come with the job then? Having to be mouthy?”

My jaw dropped a tad at his sudden cheek and I tutted around the tiny beginnings of a stuttered laugh, “You’re brave. I’ll let you have that. But honestly, you’re probably not wrong there either.” We shared a chuckle, coming to a standstill by the tower full of tapes, “Most of this lot have to be gobby enough to have a shout at bagging any customers, especially when Rob’s around.”

“Rob?”

I titled my head over towards the next stall which sat empty, “Yeah, he works the fruit and veg. Might’ve seen, or rather heard him last weekend.”

Matty gave a slow nod, dragging his gaze away from where I’d pointed and back to the many cassettes I had to offer.

“So what're we looking for this time?” I smiled, thoughts on The Cure tape he’d gifted me, although wary to mention it too soon. “80’s Punk? Electro? Rhythm and Blues?” I dragged that last one out, enjoying the sight of his smile and how it only appeared to lift on one side before dimpling the corner ever so faintly.

“Give me one of your favourites.”

“Mine?” I blinked.

He hummed again, fingertips trailing over multiple rows of cases. I watched the movement, caught up in it in actuality, before I tore my eyes back over to him. 

I caught him looking again, only this time around I didn’t much question it, not when the Saturday sun sitting high in the sky reflected so prettily in his eyes. Lightening them enough that they almost appeared to glow. 

I followed through on the ask though, once I’d finally managed to get my head in working order and drag my gaze back towards the task at hand, pulling out an extensive range of cassettes, both singles and albums, for him to view. 

Matty liked to talk, I quickly learned. He asked question after question, even when it seemed like he knew more than he was letting on at times, and he waited whenever someone else walked over, sitting amongst the back shelves with Nancy whilst I talked and sold a couple of vinyls.

Soon enough the sun had started to dip low in the sky and we realised that the hours had honestly escaped us. I was startled when I finally looked down at my phone to see that it was almost time to start packing away, having lost myself in the conversation we’d shared, or rather the debates we had both started over artists and genres, and what decade had done the most for music. 

“Oh shit! I can’t believe it’s almost half six!”

Matty appeared to remember himself at my exclaim, pulling out his own phone to see for himself and blowing out a large breath when it rang true. “Fuck, ah, I didn’t even realise.”

He actually looked somewhat apologetic when he met my eye again. 

I shook my head and waved him off, “You’re all good, actually one of the best market days I’ve had in truth, made almost double than what I did last weekend, even with the stash you claimed.”

With a soft laugh, Matty made to stand, holding out a hand to help me up too once he'd found his footing. I smiled softly at the offer and took it, perplexed by the careful callouses which lined the tops of his fingertips and the soft palm that accompanied them.

“You play?”

“Hm?”

My chin jerked over towards where an older acoustic hung on display in the stall across from mine, “Guitar. Do you play?”

His brows knitted together at the ask but he did eventually give me a low chuckle too, hand still holding my own. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

My eyes flickered up to find his and I gave a small smirk, unable to help myself. “Intuition.”

Matty scoffed in amusement, “Oh yeah? How’s that work?”

Shrugging a single shoulder, I stepped on closer to him, near enough that the brim of his hat shaded the top half of my face and the toes of our shoes almost aligned. “Just comes to me, I ‘spose.”

He quirked a questioning brow.

“What’s your intuition telling you now then?”

I bit down on the insides of my cheeks in hopes to contain my playful smile, figuring I’d best take the chance now while it was being handed to me. “That you’re gonna buy me a drink.”

“Am I?” Matty answered, voice dropping a fraction as a grin threatened to split his face.

Humming, I could only smile, eyes flickering between his own before they darted up towards the brim of his cap. With the hand not holding his, I reached up and settled it a little lower on his head, then glanced back down at that growing grin. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep coming back each Saturday then…”

His eyes narrowed a tad and finally he let go of the chuckle he’d been holding onto, leaning in even closer to me. “Intuition telling you that?”

“Hm, along with a couple other things.” I quipped, revelling in the hand that came to rest on the hem of my jeans. “So, that drink?”

Matty laughed, sweet and lovely. “Might know a place.”

“Good,” I murmured in the little space he’d placed between us, mouth almost touching his own before I was smirking and pulling away, “Guess you can help me pack up then.”

Matty huffed out a breathy chuckle whilst shook his head at me, watching as his hand slipped from mine. Though he wasn’t left lonely for too long, seeing as Nancy padded on over to him for another round of strokes whilst I set to picking up a horde of albums. “Tease.” He shot out, though he didn't look too disheartened.

I gave him a loud laugh in return, content with being labelled as such. “Well you’d best get to work then. Quicker we’re done here, quicker we can see about you and me sharing anything other than a drink.”

And he did, he set to work swift enough, the two of us slipping by one another with a gentle ease we shouldn’t have yet earned and sharing soft smiles in the lessening market bustle. All the while I continued to wonder and watch him, thinking back on the cassette he’d gifted me and the sudden fondness I’d found for him. 

“Ready to go?” He asked me not long later and I found myself never wanting to say no to that pretty smile of his. So I just nodded and took the hand he held out, Nance moving to join us too before we finally ventured our way out of the market street. Matty asking me every question he’d been holding back the further we got, and making realise that I had a horde of my own.

[anakinsthot]

[KICKS THE DOOR IN]

hi yes hello! I'd like to request praise + dancing [and for absolute challenge points, should it spark joy; playing with hair]

ty 💜

I don't remember what list this is from 🫣 anyway have 600 words of pre-relationship obikin

-

Obi-Wan watched the class of padawans with amusement. There was a senate ball coming up, and a number of Jedi had been invited as guests. Mostly those who had mediated planetary disputes for the Senate. Their padawans, regardless of their actual help in said mediations, were also invited.

Which led to this: Anakin Skywalker, nineteen years old, had been invited to a ball and needed to learn how to dance. Obi-Wan had offered to teach him but Anakin had stubbornly refused his help, opting to attend one of the classes offered in temple instead.

It was funny, Obi-Wan thought, that someone who was normally preternaturally graceful suddenly seemed to have two left feet when asked to put their hands on another being and move to a beat.

He waited quietly in the balcony above the gym that had been commandeered for tonight’s dance class. Eventually the Master teaching had either imparted all the knowledge he’d wished to for the day or gave up and dismissed the group. Obi-Wan couldn’t quite tell. About 20% of the class was as bad as Anakin, 70% were passable if not graceful, and the final 10% looked to require no instruction at all.

As the padawans started to trickle out Obi-Wan tugged on the bond he shared with Anakin, drawing his attention to the balcony where Obi-Wan hid in the shadows.

Anakin waved off the group who’d asked him to join them for dinner, giving some excuse that Obi-Wan couldn’t hear. They left quickly enough. Once the gym was clear of anyone except him and Anakin, Obi-Wan leapt down from the balcony, landing lightly on the wooden floor.

“Did you watch the whole time?” Anakin’s voice was sullen as he asked, but the red on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.

“Long enough to see you trip over your own feet,” Obi-Wan told him with a smile. “You hardly stood out though. I thought that poor togruta was going to fall on his ass more than once.”

That brought a glimmer of a smile to Anakin’s face. “Nash can’t seem to keep a tempo, he ends up tangled with his partner when he’s a beat ahead of or behind them.”

Obi-Wan moved to the music player and selected a song that hadn’t been played during class. “Would you like to take up my offer to help you now?”

Anakin groaned but took Obi-Wan’s hand. “We didn’t practice with this music.”

Obi-Wan arranged them so that they were in the first pose of the dance Anakin’s class had been attempting. “It’s the same steps you were learning. Just with a song you might have actually heard before, not one that was popular seventy years ago.” Anakin laughed and some of the tension held in his tight shoulders dispelled.

They started out tentatively. Anakin was trying to keep distance between them and as a result had trouble feeling the movements Obi-Wan tried to guide him into with gentle pulls and pushes.

“Look at me, padawan,” Obi-Wan said. He ran a hand up the back of Anakin’s neck, fingers twisting into the short ponytail there and gently but firmly tilting Anakin’s head up until they made eye contact. “You can’t be afraid to touch your partner. You must be in tune with each other, able to feel where the other is going to be before they’re there.”

Anakin nodded shortly. His cheeks were a flaming red but he did as instructed. The hand at Obi-Wan’s waist tightened and the one on his shoulder pressed more firmly into Obi-Wan. Slowly, their steps became more and more in sync until they were moving around the floor in perfect harmony with the music.

“Very good, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured softly. He tugged on Anakin’s hair one more time. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

[hardly-an-escape]

Square: B1 - Dehydration

Title: "dehydration"

Rating: T

Ship: Dream/Hob

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Additional Tags: retired Dream of the Endless, established relationship, heat wave, temperature play, implied sexual content

Summary: Sleepless and uncomfortable in the midst of a summer heatwave, a retired Dream of the Endless finds an unconventional way to cool off with the help of his lover.

Link to AO3.

my first fill for @dreamlingbingo 2024! (yes, I know it's almost the end of October...)

The nights were the worst.

The irony was not lost on Morpheus – the night had ere been his home. Dreams belong in the dark, after all; belong to the dark. They are born in those middling nowhere hours between sunset and sunrise, and then too had Dream been born – or if not strictly born, at the very least come into existence.

Even the Dreaming, despite its riots of color and flights of fancy, had been greatly comprised of darkness. Of midnights, and of the dim corners of bedrooms, and the unseen things that lurk in them.

But Morpheus was Dream no longer, and the Dreaming was not his. He was human, not dreamstuff, and possessed of the same human foibles and weaknesses as all the other humans who were lying awake in the dark, oppressive heat of London at the height of summer; namely, a physical body, and all the glands that went along with it.

It was so hot.

Morpheus tossed and turned, seeking a cool patch of pillow. He was so sweaty. The top sheet, despite its lightness, stuck to his skin – but if he pushed it down, the breeze from the fan Hob had propped in the corner made his skin prickle uncomfortably, even as it brought momentary relief from the heat. The thin fabric of his underwear felt burdensome and restrictive – even his eyelids, even the inside of his skull felt sweaty.

He rolled over again and genuinely could not help the pitiful-sounding sigh that escaped him.

“Still awake, darling?” Hob’s voice was sleepy.

“Yes,” sniffed Morpheus. “I am. So uncomfortable. I cannot sleep.”

“I know, neither can I. It’s bad this summer.” One broad fingertip ghosted across Morpheus’s collarbone. It felt just slightly wet. Morpheus did not think his body should be able to make itself wet. “Can I do anything for you, love?”

“Yes. No. Yes. The fan is bothering me.”

Hob levered himself out of bed with a soft grunt and switched the fan off, then came back and kissed Morpheus lightly on the forehead.

“Want a little treat?” he asked. “I got something at the shops earlier that I think you’ll like.”

“I have already brushed my teeth.”

“You get special dispensation for cold treats in bed. I decided. On account of how it’s a million degrees even though it’s bloody midnight.”

Hob padded out to the kitchen and Morpheus heard the freezer open and shut. Something clinked against ceramic and then Hob returned, plopping down on the bed by Morpheus’s knees. Morpheus pushed himself up to a sitting position and kicked the sheet down around his feet.

The treat Hob handed him was bright red, even in the darkened bedroom. Morpheus took the wooden stick delicately between his finger and thumb and gave it a tentative lick.

“Cherry,” offered Hob. “Or at least that’s what it said on the label. I imagine it mostly tastes like sugar, really.”

“It is good. And more importantly, it is cold.”

Morpheus nibbled a chunk off the end of the popsicle and let it melt on his tongue. He closed his eyes, the better to savor the experience, to focus on the soothing interplay between sweet and frozen, and thus missed the sight of Hob fishing an ice cube from the small bowl he was holding and rubbing it gently against his mouth. He was surprised into a gasp, eyes flying open, when Hob pressed a chilly, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of one knee.

“Hob – what –”

“Shhh,” Hob said, and placed another kiss, a little higher. “Eat your popsicle.”

Obediently, Morpheus bit off another small piece of the frozen treat. It almost immediately disintegrated into little shards of cherry-flavored ice, sharp and sweet. He felt the chill as it slid down his throat, but barely tasted the popsicle; the whole of his attention was fixed on Hob, on his eyes, wide in the dim room, and on the fresh ice cube he was practically caressing with his lips.

The third kiss was to the thin, soft skin of Morpheus’s inner thigh. The fourth just below his navel. By the time the seventh deliciously chilly brush of Hob’s lips was dropped next to his Adam’s apple, Morpheus’s pulse was racing and the popsicle was drooping dangerously near the sheets, practically forgotten.

Hob, of course, noticed.

“Whoops, love,” he said, reaching over and wrapping his hand around Morpheus’s. “Don’t want that getting on the sheets.”

“No,” Morpheus responded faintly. He was having trouble concentrating.

Hob smirked. He lifted Morpheus’s hand, popsicle and all, and suddenly the whole thing was in his mouth, his lips brushing against Morpheus’s fingers. He made a show of pulling the stained wooden stick out obscenely slowly, of dramatically swallowing, of licking his lips. Then he brought Morpheus’s hand to his mouth again and deliberately kissed each one of his fingertips.

“Why don’t you lie back, love,” Hob said, voice low. “And I’ll see if I can’t find another way to get your mind off the heat.”

read on AO3 >>>

this was expanded from this ficlet, but I added well over 100 words to meet the minimum requirements!

[allzelemonz]

An Omega’s Place: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader x Kieran Duffy

Pronouns: he/him Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Smut, language, noncon Warnings: Noncon, Alpha Colm O’Driscoll, Omega Kieran Duffy, a/o/o, mating cycles/in heat, scenting, kissing, anal sex, hand jobs, forced mating, forced bond, mentions of breeding Summary: O’Driscolls never have treated their Omegas very well, especially not during a rut.

The O’Driscolls keep the Omegas packed together in a shed, taking care not to lose any when they move from camp to camp. Every camp has at least one no matter the size, Alphas and Betas need entertainment after all. Entertainment and the promise of a future for the gang. In the O’Driscolls, Omegas are only good for fucking. The pleasure of their superiors and the endless development of their children.

And you’ve been with them for almost a year.

Not often picked, thankfully. Only the occasional Beta, a certain Alpha. Humiliating every time, but it could be worse. Some Omegas here are common toys of Alphas, dragged away every night and returned with a swell so big they may as well have conceived. Those that do are always taken away to a tent with a bed, treated like humans until it’s over. You spend most of your time keeping to yourself against the wall. When the Betas come in you sometimes have to watch an Omega get shoved to the ground and bred because they don’t want any Alpha scent messing with the Omega’s head. Usually it’s an Alpha that comes in, taking their pick and leaving with not much other than pretty words.

A week ago they brought in a new one. Betas were talking about how much fun he was when they threw in on the ground and locked the door again. A few Omegas went to him, helped him with the bruises and the cuts and the swell. Then he sat next to you, shaking and trying to breathe. You don’t blame him, no Omegas come to the O’Driscolls willingly. Then at night he had nightmares and you took pity on him enough to cuddle him. From there it became the standard. He would shake and you would hold him. Sometimes you’d kiss his head, night or day, simply because it felt right and he enjoyed it. 

Kieran Duffy always found his way into your arms and gave such soft kisses and talked about such nice things. Horses mostly, he loves horses and fishing and cuddling. In the last few days you’ve taken quite a fondness of him, understanding why decent Alphas are so protective now. The other Omegas don’t really care, some even give you smiles when Kieran sits in your lap or you kiss him.

But good things are never allowed to last.

Colm O’Driscoll is in camp. Or so Tom’s favorite Omega says when she comes back.

“He was complaining about not being top Alpha in camp anymore.” She says, Omegas huddled around her like it’s a scary campfire tale. “A couple Betas talked to him when he was bringing me back, they said he’s staying for a few weeks.”

Whispers fill the crowd at the news. Your body tenses and you can feel Kieran hug you a little tighter. He knows who Colm is, everyone’s warned him.

“Did they say why?” One of the older Omegas asks, making the whispers go quiet.

She shakes her head. “Not really…”

“Come now, child.” The older Omega chides. “We’re a pack, no secrets from pack.”

She takes a moment, playing with her hands. “They might have said something about a rut.”

The mood in the shack changes and it takes a lot of gentle shushing from the older Omega to get everyone calm again. They sigh when everyone looks at them, long tired of playing the parent.

“Colm has only ever had one during ruts, so the rest of you can calm yourselves.” They push away from the crowd and everyone watches as they kneel in front of you. “You need to prepare yourself.”

Kieran looks at you but all you can do is stare at the older Omega. They were here when Colm came looking, just a few days after you’d been taken. He looked at every Omega, but his eyes landed on you. They were there when the Betas brought you back and your body ached and your head spun. They were there when Colm picked you again, and again. Three ruts and you hardly remember a second of them.

“Think on the bright side, child.” The older Omega attempts a comforting smile. “You’ll get a bed for a few nights.”

You give them a smile for no other reason than to get them away from you. They leave, returning to reassure the other Omegas that worry. It’s likely other Alphas will catch scent of the rut and get agitated, some might come for an Omega of their own. At least the Betas will be occupied by that instinct to protect the rutting Alpha, none of them should bother.

“Y-You n’ Colm?” Kieran asks in a soft voice.

“Only during his ruts.”

Kieran nuzzles into your neck, his nose pressing against your scent patch and smelling like he’ll never get to do it again. “He never… caught durin’ a heat er nothin’?”

You shiver a bit at the memory. O’Driscoll Omegas aren’t fed well enough to have very frequent heats but you have had one here. Betas came in when they smelled it, checking to see if it was any Alpha’s preferred Omega. You’d already spent a rut with Colm so they took you to him. Looking back you consider yourself lucky that he was in camp. If no Alpha in particular wants the Omega for themselves, they might share.

“Just one.” You sigh, leaning into Kieran as he hugs you close.

“‘m sorry.”

“Just how things are, Kieran.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, bordering your scent patch and making you take a sharp breath at the feeling of pleasure. What you wouldn’t give to be somewhere nice with Kieran. Far away from the O’Driscolls and back in civilization where Omegas aren’t simply toys for the amusement of criminals. Maybe spend your heats together.

“I’ll be fine.” You sigh, a hand petting Kieran’s hair.

“Don’t mean I ain’t gonna worry.”

Hours pass, simple hours of tight holds and soft kisses. Then a Beta opens the door, Colm pushing him aside. His scent is light but very much the beginnings of a rut. Every Omega perks, some unable to stop themselves from stepping closer to him. Betas come in, pushing the Omegas away as Colm walks to you. There wasn’t enough time to untangle yourself from Kieran and you know that Colm saw by the smile on his face.

“Got yerself a little sweetheart, Omega?”

Kieran shrinks back against the wall, resisting the urge that makes you not fight when Colm pulls you to your feet. He holds your waist and presses his nose to your neck, scenting deeply.

“So sweet…” He mutters.

He turns you, pushing you into a couple of Betas that hold you still. They tighten their hold on your arms when you struggle as he kneels down to Kieran. Kieran, who you have been able to keep away from prying eyes until now, he hasn’t been touched since he was taken last week. Colm pushes Kieran’s hair back and the compelled Omega leans into the touch, not protesting as he’s scented.

Colm groans softly. “Ya smell like ‘em…”

Never in a million years did you think your scent would rub off on Kieran, especially without marking. You’ve heard of it before, people that spend time together picking up each other’s scents. You’d only ever heard of it happening with families. But an Alpha’s nose, particularly one nearing rut, wouldn’t mistake something like the scent of an Omega he’s rutted lingering on someone else.

Colm pulls Kieran to his feet and the poor kid doesn’t know how to resist the enamoring scent. The Beats holding you walk behind Colm as his hands guide Kieran by the waist. The direct sunlight makes you blink rapidly and the change in scent is jarring. You’d gotten so used to the comforting smells of other Omegas and the timid ones of the occasional Beta that your nose flooding with the different scents of O’Driscoll Alphas nearly chokes you.

You’re taken to Colm’s cabin, the same one from his last rut. The Betas push you inside after Colm and Kieran, closing the door. There is no lock, there doesn’t need to be. Betas usually like the scent of an Alpha in rut, there will be plenty lingering outside to keep any offended Alphas away. And with Colm’s scent getting stronger, you wouldn’t want to leave anyway.

Colm sits on the bed and Kieran is so caught in his scent that he doesn’t need to be told to sit on the man’s lap. The good thing about ruts is that the scent doesn’t make you lose your mind to mating the way a heat does to Alphas. You have your senses, Colm just smells nice and you don’t want to leave. You also have the experience to be able to enjoy it from a distance. Kieran doesn’t have that. He does what you did during the first rut you spent with Colm, he drinks in the scent from the source. So enthralled in it that he doesn’t care about Colm’s dick grinding into his ass.

You make yourself sit in one of the chairs by the dining table, trying to breathe more through your mouth than your nose. Kieran begins to whimper, that instinct naturally taking over him in the presence of an Alpha. It always makes it harder to resist. Rut or not, an Alpha’s scent and the beginnings of intimacy always twist the minds of Omegas. You know the feeling and you wish there was something you could do about it. You just try not to watch, try not to listen as Kieran starts to beg and Colm starts to say those gross promises.

But as his scent gets stronger, much more compelling, you find yourself needing to be much closer to the Alpha. You try to fight it, but it’s much too strong now. As you approach, you find Colm fucking harshly into a presenting Kieran. Slick drips out with every thrust and Kieran whines and pleads to be filled. It makes your stomach turn, but you need to be close to Colm. The Alpha smiles at you, his hips slowing a bit as his hands pull you closer. Kieran fucks himself back into Colm as the Alpha kisses you and his hands roam your body, one falling almost immediately to squeeze your dick through your pants. Then he lets you go and you can finally press into his neck and breathe in the nice scent you crave.

“Such good little Omegas.” He chuckles. “Right where ya belong.”

You hear Kieran cry out, assuming he’s released but not able to tear yourself away from Colm’s scent patch to check. Colm tugs your pants down and in your twisted state, you help him. Your mind is too fogged to focus now but you feel the soft sheets under you all of the sudden and a second later Colm is pushing into you. Your ass drips with slick as he fills you and now that Omega instinct comes over, wanting nothing more than to be bred again and again.

Very softly, fingers run through your hair. You meet Kieran’s eyes, blown out in a state of bliss. Neither of you have much sense beside pleasing the Alpha in hopes that he fucks you both until you’re dripping with his seed. So Kieran kisses you, much rougher than either of you ever have. Behind you, Colm groans and pumps you full as his knot keeps him there. He’s knotted you before, he usually does.

“That’s it, pretty Omegas.” He says with a moan, his hand running along your back. “Keep warm fer yer Alpha.”

You can’t stop the whimper as Kieran’s hand leaves your hair. Colm pulls you back with him, making you sit in his lap as he beckons Kieran closer. It’s you that kisses him this time, your mind coming back a bit and just wanting to feel something aside from Colm. But the Alpha’s hand finds yours and directs it to Kieran’s dick. He holds you there, starting to pump faster than Kieran can handle and making him whimper against your lips. You try to distract him, try to be soft in your kisses to comfort him, but Colm squeezes your hand so tight around him that you know it has to hurt.

Then in your ear, in that low and commanding voice only an Alpha can bring on. “Fuck him fer me, Omega.”

It compels your already rattled mind and, just as Colm’s knot relaxes, you push Kieran back and climb on top of him. Colm stays back, watching his selected Omegas as they kiss and grind. And his hand pumps his dick when he watches you slide yours into Kieran, the command of an Alpha spurring you on. Still, it’s Kieran under you. You have the sense to gentle, to more make love than fuck until Colm pushes you down and enters you again.

With every rock of his hips, you’re pushed into Kieran. Both of you whining those nonsense pleas about Alphas and breeding and being full. Colm’s hands dig into your hips, clawing with every thrust. For once you’re thankful it’s a rut, because Colm cums much faster than he might otherwise. For the second time, he knots you and fills you so much that it makes your stomach hurt. He grinds you into Kieran and you’re overwhelmed, shooting slick deep inside the other Omega.

“Gonna have my kids, Omega?” Colm mutters against your ear as he leans over you. “‘bout time ya did, been makin’ me wait so long.”

“Colm…” Your breath hitches as he ghosts his teeth over your scent patch. “A-Alpha… please no…”

Your plea doesn’t stop him. He sinks his teeth into your scent patch and you whine from the bit of pain it causes. When he pulls back, he kisses the mark before pulling you away from Kieran. You slip out of him and he whimpers, curling in on himself from the empty feeling. Colm has you in his lap for a while, whispering things about breeding you and claiming you in your ear until his knot relaxes and he pushes you off.

He pulls you back by the arm, his grip bruising. “Mark me back er I kill the Omega.”

Your eyes dart to Kieran for a moment. He’s exhausted, only half awake as he lets out soft whimpers of pain.

“Might mark him too…” Colm says, his fingers running along your jaw. “Gotta make sure he’s worth it first.”

His rut is in a lull, he’s in complete control of his mind. His eyes aren’t blown or glazed, they’re cutting. You know he’d make good on his threat and then force you into marking him anyway, so you carefully lean in as he pets your hair. Your head swims a bit again as you take in his scent so directly and you sink your teeth into the mark. Colm hisses at the feeling, his hand pulling your hair and forcing you back.

“Always so damn well behaved fer yer Alpha.” He growls, forcing you onto your back.

He doesn’t waste time, pushing into you again. When you turn your head you see Kieran has fallen fast asleep, just inches from you. He’s alive, at least he’s alive.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon Prompt #16

Pairing: ShigaDabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: Freestyle!

Contents: Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys Under Clothes, Anal Plug, Cock Cage, Prostate Milking, Humiliation Kink, Orgasm Denial, Feminization, Lingerie

Dabi is going to kill himself and kill Shigaraki because Duster is pulling this bullshit, but he’s allowing it. He should absolutely not be allowing this, but he is anyway because the fucking big Detnerat/former-MLA Christmas party is such a big deal that they decided not to change it even though the organization changed hands. But it’s mostly corporate bullshit that he really can’t stand. This isn’t the kind of villainy that he knows how to deal with. His kind is the stuff that had him pounding the pavement every day and taking point on the summer camp job back in Kamino. Technically, he thinks that he’s supposed to think that it’s sweet that Tomura saw how uncomfortable he was with this party during the lead-up to it, unable to be excited about wearing fancy clothes, eating good food and the nice drinks that were going to be served, and dancing and whatever that the other League members started to crow about the closer they got to the event. Even Spinner, that absolute recluse, had gotten a little tentatively excited because he’d ‘never been to a party before’, which made all of the others want to ensure it was a good first experience for him, and left Dabi the only one who was absolutely miserable over this development. 

But Tomura had noticed even though he hadn’t said anything, and had paused Dabi as he got out of the shower when he was getting ready, and asked if he wanted something to spice up the occasion. 

He should have said no. Maybe also lit him on fire. But instead he’s standing off to the side of their large room that they use for announcements, lights, decorations, tables, and a band of their members on the stage this time instead of them, a million Twices running around as servers with appetizers, hoping desperately to not draw anyone’s attention. He really hopes that if he’s blushing through his scars, the other members milling about will just chalk it up to how many drinks he’s already put away. 

He’s so distracted trying to keep it together, that he doesn’t even notice his lover coming up to him, until he’s catching his elbow and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You look so distracted, baby girl.” 

Dabi feels his face heat even worse. In any other situation he would have snapped at Tomura for calling him that, but right now, he doesn’t trust his voice not to crack, or to draw very unwanted attention to himself. So instead of saying anything, he just lets himself turn his head, half-hiding his face behind Tomura’s so that anyone else will think he’s whispering something to him, not letting out one pathetic, needy whimper, his body so hot that he thinks he’s going to fall apart or start smoking soon. 

“Oh, princess, that bad already?” 

Dabi manages another weak nod, and Tomura clicks his tongue, taking his glass from his hand and finishing it himself. 

“Okay, we’re barely an hour in. Come on.” 

Dabi would have sobbed with his relief if they weren’t in mixed company, and he has a hard time managing to walk normally and an even harder time keeping pace with Tomura instead of falling behind him or linking their pinkies together so he can pull him along like he normally does when he’s playing his baby girl. 

Tomura takes him into a private room, off of the side hall, and as soon as the door is shut and locked behind him, he instructs, “Let me see, princess.” 

Dabi feels like he’s going to melt, his hands shaking badly, as he undoes his belt and the black dress pants he was forced into. He doesn’t know if he could be more embarrassed over the fact that Tomura had to force him into a proper suit, but that he readily put on the red lacy thong that he’s wearing underneath, or the soft pink silicone cock cage that is small enough to ensure that not a drop of blood can try to make him swell so that no one would be able to tell that he was walking around so aroused that he’s dizzy. But he can’t help it. Not with the plug inside of him that is pressing just right against his prostate and making his cock leak in spite of the cage. 

“Look at you, baby girl, such a naughty little slut that you like being so disgusting in public.” 

He whimpers, trying to shake his head as the words make the pleasure already aching across his nerves even worse. 

“Don’t lie, princess, I can see how wet your panties are. Turn around, baby.” 

Dabi turns. Like the green room they waited in before their debut, this room has a coffee table, two chairs and a couch. He knows what Sir usually wants when he tells him to turn around, and he does so, bending over to brace his arms on the back of the nearest chair, spreading his legs. It was absolutely the right thing to do because Sir comes closer, one hand thumbing away the string of his thong so he can see the base of the plug nestled between his cheeks. Dabi knows the music and talking outside of this room are loud, so he is shameless as he moans when Sir eases the plug out and then pushes it back in, making sure to grind it against his hypersensitive prostate as he does it. 

“Your pussy is always so greedy to be fucked, isn’t it, baby girl?” His voice is full of heat and Dabi hopes that means that he’s ready to fuck him, because if he fucks him, then Tomura will take them back upstairs and out of the party so that he can help him clean up and fuck him again. 

“Always want Sir’s cock in my pussy,” he agrees, his body humming with a heady rush of humiliation and arousal. 

Tomura clicks his tongue. “I know, but it’s not time for that yet. We still have so much more to do before we can leave, precious.” Fuck. He was really hoping that he could get out of here before some stupid speeches got made, and he whines at the thought of having to stay when he wants to leave, and wants to be fucked so badly. “But I can’t just leave my baby girl like this, otherwise you might sneak away to be naughty all on your own.” 

He fucks the toy back into his hole, rubbing it against that sensitive spot again. Dabi keens, his thighs starting to shake. 

“I’m going to help you be good for me for the rest of the night and earn your reward.” Tomura tells him, his voice a perfect growl in his ear. Dabi barely manages a, 

“Thank you, Sir,” because he can hardly think. He would probably give up a week off and a whole day of Tomura playing with him until his brain is much and letting him stay deep in his subspace for all the time after, if he could leave the party now, but he can’t negotiate when he’s starting to be fucked with the plug properly. 

Tomura is relentless as he works the toy against him, making Dabi’s walls tremble as each motion puts new pleasure and an uncomfortable, burning pressure across his nerves as his cock is kept tight in the cage, unable to harden. He keeps going as Dabi dissolves into louder and louder moans, the pain of that pressure getting so great that he’s scared that he’s going to start to cry which will be a whole mess to clean up and explain– until a sharp click fills the air. It takes about half a second before the toy starts to buzz inside of him, and that pressure snaps suddenly. 

Dabi’s legs would have given out if Tomura wasn’t helping him stand, and he feels his cock twitch before he’s moaning as he’s milked. 

Humiliation goes through him even sharper than the overstimulation as the toy keeps moving, when he realizes he’s going to make a puddle– only to look down and see that Tomura is holding the glass he’d taken from his hand under him, catching the thin white liquid before he can ruin his pants or anything else.

When the last drop falls into the cup and he’s nothing but a gasping, trembling mess, Tomura turns off the plug and takes the glass away, setting it on the coffee table. Dabi’s face burns, but he stays where he is until he has permission to move. Tomura gives him a kiss on the back of his neck. 

“Straighten up, princess. We should go back out soon. I don’t want you to miss too much of the festivities. Besides, don’t you like to dance? You can show me how.” Evil. Evil, cruel, horrible, awful, and Dabi should dump him.

Instead he does his best to stand, still trembling, and looks down at his absolutely soaked panties, worried that if he leaves them on, he’ll leak through his pants. Tomura sees his hesitation and reaches for the sides, giving a tiny burst of his quirk to make them fall away from around his hips. He pulls the soiled fabric away and Dabi goes even redder as he takes them and tosses them on the table next to the glass of his fluids. 

“Come on, princess, I’m sure you don’t want to be anywhere near this room when someone stumbles in here and finds that.” 

It’s definitely a hell of a way to make him eager to rush back into the party. 

Thanks so much for your participation! If you want to join in, there's half an hour left to get in a prompt! Check out my Ko-Fi here! 

[cementcornfield]

Sooooo-How was it???

it was super fun!! well, i say that, but we all saw that game lol, it was definitely an agonizing 2nd and 3rd quarter. if my brother in law hadn’t taken it upon himself to get me constant refills of vodka sodas i don’t know what i’d have done lmao. 

anyway, i just got home and here’s some rambling about everything below the cut if anyone is interested! 

football thoughts

we got the win, so thank god. i know it was an ugly one, but jesus christ did we need it. the season isn’t saved at 2-4 by any means, but at least it’s not COMPLETELY ruined yet.  defense stepping up was great to see! bj, trey, and dj in particular seemed like they were everywhere they needed to be when they needed to be there, which was awesome. and yeah, i know it was daniel jones and the giants, but they just beat a pretty decent seahawks team and were actually a playoff team two years ago, so i’ll take it for now! like as bad as our defense has been, it certainly hasn’t helped that we’ve been going against some of the top offenses in the league like the ravens and commanders. so it’s good to see them hold an opponent off that we should have been able to hold off, you know? 

special teams also was awsome! ryan rehkow’s punts are really cool to see in person! (they go so high!!) 

offense….well. um. we could use some work there! what was it, 5 punts in a row and then a fumble?? yikes yikes yikes. play calling…. execution…. all of it was a problem. but i guess they just couldn’t find a rhythm with that d-line, which is definitely one of the toughest in the league, so i get it. but we better start figuring it out by next week with myles garrett…

off the field, sideline thoughts

joe’s 47 yard TD was insane though!!! seeing that in person was wild because of how excited all the bengals fans were and how horrified the giants fans were lmao. and the way he dove right through the pylon at the end had me so scared he didn’t actually make it, it’s so stressful when no one is commentating and telling you exactly what’s going lol. but joe doing his flex!!! and ja’marr and tee and the rest of the guys running up to him! we got a pinky shake!!! ja’marr flexing back?!?! come on. that was adorable! 

speaking of adorable celebrations, after bj tipped that ball that led to germaine’s interception, they had a cute moment on the sideline that i wish i’d captured. they did a little hand shake/celebration thing, and then kind of just like, held onto each other’s arms for way longer than i thought they would lmao. i love those two, their dynamic needs to be talked about more! (and they were roommates etc etc) 

but other than that, it wasn’t really a game for a lot of cute moments 😔 mostly everyone was just frustrated on the sidelines! ja’marr couldn’t sit still and kept getting up to pace around (which feels very On Brand, so that was nice confirmation.) joe would stare intensely at his ipad and sometimes wander off to stand on his own for awhile and watch the game lol. i found it interesting that no one tried to interact with him in those moments, that must be something that he just does sometimes and everyone is used to it! 

OH at one point joe was super pissed after a play, i think it must have been one of his sacks, and you could tell he wanted to, if not slam, at least forcefully place his helmet back on the stand. but as he was about to do it, he noticed that jake’s helmet was in his spot lol. so he had to pause in his angry ritual and move jake’s helmet, and then just kind of sadly set the helmet down instead, poor guy, even that couldn’t go right :( 

and then the very scary part was when joe took that BIG hit and they made him go in the blue tent!!! god i was so drunk and confused and scared at that point, i had to hold my sister’s hand the whole time he was in there. but, thankfully he wasn’t in there long, and he came out looking even more pissed that they made him go in in the first place lmao. 

that’s about all i got! it was a really fun experience and i’m glad i got to see a W! wasn’t quite the week though for a lot of cute moments for sure. but oh well! i’ll see if i have any pictures or videos worth posting…. 

[grimmtells]

What would an interaction between Arlekin and Pomni be like?

✦ Here's an interaction they had ! Probably happens around a week into Pomni arriving at the circus and still struggling to find her mark (this third person, but mostly pomni's pov/thoughts)

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Pomni sat silently at the border of the digital lake, far away from the tent and dipping her feet or — shapeless whatevers that they were — in the water. She stared idly at her reflexion, absentmindedly inspecting the details of this new face that had replaced her own ; those saturated pinwheel eyes, that clownish white face, those miserable strands of hair… she'd never really been a massive fan of her face before, but it was arguably better than this one.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't feel the presence floating up to her when gloved hands grabbed her shoulders.

“Ah, there you are !”

“AAAGH—”

Pomni shrieked, taken aback by the sudden pull-back to earth and yanked herself away.

SPLASH

Unfortunately, that way was the lake. Pomni quickly swam to the surface, coughing up some of the digital water she almost choked on, only to hear an obnoxiously pompous laugh. She looked up, all too annoyed at the sight of the circus’ other jester, Arlekin.

“Oh, my dear colourful little Pierrot, you're so silly aren't you ?” He smirked, “Were you dying to go for a swim that much ? You'd no need to wait for me ! Ah ah ah~”

Pomni glared at him, getting herself out of the lake and squeezing the water out of her hat.

“What do you want,” she groaned, not very inclined to have any lasting conversation with him.

“How delightful that you’d ask !” He hummed, clasping his hands together, “See, like I told you before, myself and Kaufmo used to perform together-” 

Before he could even finish, Pomni’s eye twitched as her annoyance bubbled into anger.

“I DON'T want to perform anything with you,” she scowled, “I don't care what you and Kaufmo did, I'm not Kaufmo and I happen to think you're a jack%$!#.” Her words were sharp, but none seemed to wipe off the smirk on his face as he eyed her down. “Like I told you before, I'm not doing any stupid skit with you.”

“Oh, you wound me !” He dramatically bemoaned, feigning offence and pretending to clutch imaginary pearls.

But after squeezing enough water out of her hat, she grabbed her shoes and made a beeline for the tent without sparing him another glance. That didn't mean the mask-faced jerk wasn't following her, though.

“Please.” He scoffed, “Call Jax a ruffian all you want, but me ? I'm just teasing you, Poms, nothing so dreadful as you make it sound like !”

“We don't have the same definition of teasing,” She responded dryly.

Arlekin floated to her side, resting his face on his hands while wearing an amused look. 

“We also have differing definitions of fun, amore, yet I'm at least putting in an effort for us to get along~” He hummed.

Pomni shot him a baffled glare.

“Ugh,” she huffed under her breath, picking up the pace. She wasn't about to play mental gymnastics with him.

Intentionally lagging behind, Arlekin crossed his arms, smirking still.

“I give you a few weeks, tops.” He shot, flatly.

Pomni halted her tracks. For a second, she tried to tell herself he wasn't referring to what she thought he was referring to.

“A few weeks for what ?” She asked with an air of unease, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she kept her back to him.

“Before you abstract, of course.~”

He said that so matter of factly that when she turned around to face him, he looked almost darkly disturbing to her, just for a moment.

“What are you saying ?” She breathed, clutching her shoes.

“Ah ah ah, oh my dear, don't shoot the messenger.” He waved a hand dismissively, “it's just an observation, a fair warning you could even say.~”

“An observation ?” She frowned, completely appalled, “saying I'm basically gonna die is an observation ?” She took a step forward, never feeling so ready to hit someone square in the jaw as she did in that moment.

Arlekin sighed theatrically, like he was the one dealing with a difficult case.

“You sweet, worryingly dim-witted thing,” he said, “like a dainty doe, immobile as a statue in the face of a speeding car's headlights ✧” He recited, in a light, breathy voice, like he was narrating something.

“What the f—” 

“Don't you see ?” He cut her off, floating right up to her face, “that you're doing everything in your power, intentional or not, to abstract?”

“What ? I—” She stammered, “I haven’t—”

“And don't say you haven't been doing that.” He countered, glaring down at her, “Jax told you Kinger has been here the longest, but you've not been told yet that oldest circus member he may be, I, among this group, am the second oldest resident.”

Pomni frowned. Was he boasting about it ? He continued.

“And unlike Kinger, I am still sane enough to catch the warning signs.” He added, “Isolation, Pomni, is not the solution. Desolation as you mournfully miss your former self isn't either. I suggest, you do not think too much of the past, for your sake and our own.” 

He sounded strangely curt, despite smirking through all this. Almost like he’d told this many times before, enough times to be annoyed to have to repeat himself.

“I—” Pomni struggled finding her words, “Why would you care, anyway?”

“Oh, do you think me so inhumane ?” He scoffed, “Nobody likes a funeral, you see.” The humour had a hint of sourness, “but if you wanna be the next portrait everyone speaks morosely of, be my guest !~”

“Wha, i don't— !”

“You don't? Deepest apologies, I really thought you did, with the way you behaved.” He snarked, “whether you like it or not, this is your new body” He pointed to her, “this is your new home,” he gestured all around them, “and there is no exit.” He spat, his face now scrunched in anger for the first time, “so if you want the slightest. slither. of chance. at staying sound of mind, I suggest you try to be a tad more positive, invested, dare I say. Else, we'll have another sorry crossed-out face among bedroom doors.”

Pomni’s face was a mix of confusion and agitation. She didn't like how genuine he sounded. No matter how honest he looked, she couldn't help but feel this didn't come from a place of worry for her. Yet, he did look very mad, why ? 

She breathed in and out sharply to collect her thoughts.

“I'm still not doing any — skit or performance thing with you,” she maintained as sternly as she could, “but— fine. I'll start being more— ... involved,” she conceded.

Immediately, Arlekin's smile returned.

“Baby steps, tesoro,” he cooed, “Even I know to praise efforts being made.”

Pomni watched him waltz away to the tent, humming a little melody to himself. This whole thing left her feeling slightly more uncomfortable than before.

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You guys interpret all that however you want 👀

[fuedalreesespieces]

inukag week - day 3: bickering

the yakuza boyfriend

read on ao3!

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He was what Eri had expected, but also not at all.  

The character called Inuyasha sat cross-legged in Kagome’s room, eying them all with suspicion. His shock of white hair was tied back in a soft blue bandana that contrasted strangely with the bright red clothes he wore. He’d answered their questions with curt responses that hardly surpassed a few syllables, staring at them like they were alien specimens all the while. His impatient yellow eyes darted back and forth between the girls, Kagome’s shaken form distributing tea around the room, and the window. 

So this is her boyfriend. Eri took a tentative sip of her tea. “So, Inuyasha...what school do you go to?” 

Before he could respond, Kagome cut in with, “He’s, um – a foreign exchange student! He goes to a school far away. In, um, Hokkaido.” 

“Oh, wow,” Yuka exclaimed. “That’s a four and a half hour train ride. What’re you doing here during the busy school year?” 

“I’m just helpin’ out her granddad.” 

“Aww,” Ayumi gushed. “That’s so sweet!” 

He blushed. “Uh...” 

Four and a half hour train ride? Exchange student? Eri gave Inuyasha a furtive glance. He hadn’t taken a single drink from his cup, and she noticed how long his nails were as they tapped restlessly on the ceramic rim. Sounds like a cover to me.   

In truth, while the other girls had mostly discarded of their previous yakuza notions, Eri still clung to them. There were too many items of contention that continued to make themselves known. She didn’t know a single school that would let him get away with that hair color and length (he’d claimed it was natural, but how could that be?) - nor those bright contacts, for that matter - unless there was an external factor at play.  

He even went by some sort of code name. Perhaps it was an indicator of rank? Regardless, she was certain that he was lying about at least one of his claims. Not that he had done much of the talking at all. 

She wouldn’t have cared so much if it weren’t for his dating Kagome. He seemed too nonchalant, and with all of the accusations Kagome had levied against him during their group WacDonald excursions, Eri was seeing two very different pictures. She just needed to make sure for certain that Kagome was happy and safe with him, and that he wouldn’t board the next four hour train to Sapporo the minute things got inconvenient.  

Before Eri could get on with the subtle questioning, Ayumi spoke up. After a few intervals of stagnant conversation with a frenzied Kagome, she shifted her starry gaze elsewhere. “Hey, Inuyasha?” 

Inuyasha kept that same puzzled expression, like he didn’t understand why she continued referring her attentions to him when there were three other people in the room to talk to. Any other guy might have been bashful, or even taken it up with stride, but Ayumi’s easygoing nature was lost on him.  

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you carrying a sword?” 

Eri paused, her eyebrows furrowing. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed before (well, she’d mostly been staring at his face) but there really was a sword strapped to his side. The scabbard was hidden by Inuyasha’s voluminous red sleeves, but from where she sat, it looked old and well-worn. 

Kagome choked on her tea when Inuyasha peered down at it. “’S my old man’s,” he confirmed. 

Eri's eyebrows arched. A sword passed down from father to son, huh? He was making this too easy for her.

Ayumi's voice broke through her train of thought. “Oh, like a prop or something?” 

“A prop?” he repeated. 

“You know, like in a play. Oh!” Her eyes glowed with recognition. “Is it the same prop you used during our school play? You know, when you brought out that super huge sword on Hojo?” 

“It’s called the Tessaiga,” he told them, and there was a twinkle of pride in his eyes. “Dunno why that Hojo kid was carrying around a wooden sword. As if it would do ‘im any good.” 

Eri could never forget that disastrous scene – Prince Pannacotta, Escargot Pudding, and what the crowd had dubbed the Sekihan Rogue. As much as she valued preparedness, Inuyasha’s unexpected intrusion had actually made the play so popular that they sold more tickets than any previous cultural festival the school had ever held. 

Yuka clasped her hands together. “Can we see it?” 

He grinned, pleased to get the opportunity. Before he could make a move, Kagome, who had been preparing to take another sip of her tea, said in the most irate tone imaginable: “Osuwari.” 

Immediately, Inuyasha crashed into the ground, hands flying into the air with ludicrous vigor. He held the position for an embarrassing moment, Kagome’s casual sips filling the otherwise pin drop silence, before sitting up and rubbing his chin fervently. Eri expected there to be a bruise, what with the speed and force he had dropped, but his skin was unblemished and he looked only mildly annoyed. 

“What’d you do that for?” 

“I know you weren’t about to demonstrate Tessaiga’s theatrical prowess in my room.” She lowered her teacup to the palm of her hand and gave him a chilling smile. “Right?” 

Like magic, the incredulous dip of Inuyasha’s mouth flattened into a shaky line. He almost looked nervous, but quickly pivoted so that only his forelocks were visible to Eri. Still, the blush on his face was evident, bright as his old fashioned clothes and just as misplaced on the tough-guy image she’d formed in her mind. Had he just bowed at a single word from Kagome’s lips?  

Furthermore, Eri couldn’t understand how Inuyasha could keep up with Kagome. That girl had the potential to be terrifying, but he matched her blow for blow when they argued - and sometimes won out with logic. The rest of the afternoon consisted of their bickering – something about twisted handlebars and broken pottery – but even when they fought, it was incredibly evident that the two were a couple. They cut into each other’s personal space like cars having a feud on the road. When another member of the group tried to steer them into vaguely peaceful territory, Kagome’s shoulders would brush against her boyfriend’s, and his head would tilt down against hers, holding her in place until an irrelevant detour in the conversation ignited their dormant arguments for the nth time. 

As the day drew to a close, Eri decided that she no longer quite saw him as the wayward caricature she’d envisioned – still a punk, though. He was dramatic (he probably just worked in theater) and blunt and the claws were still a questionable fashion choice, but she concluded he wasn't dangerous, at least to Kagome. She admitted that his occasional tenderness - from wrapping a solid arm around her shoulders to defending her from Yuka's obvious joking insults - had gotten to her. After everything that had transpired, she was convinced that Inuyasha’s involvement in the yakuza, or any gang for that matter, was next to none. That notion far too outlandish.  

She now had a new theory. Constant absences, unexplained sicknesses that never seemed to go away despite maintaining a sprightly disposition, and the ability to make someone like Inuyasha bow with a single word... 

(It was Kagome. Kagome was definitely part of the yakuza.)  

[blade-that-was-broken]

Soldier On AU Notes

For the person who asked for them... This is kinda what I got. Don't get me wrong, there is a ton of JD and Bruce stuff, I just... haven't written any of that down...

I told ya'll that Branch jumped out of the bushes and pushed his way in! What do you want me to do!?

John does eventually get a service dog - Rhonda - that is mostly a mobility and reach aid and does pressure therapy for his PTSD. Idk all the details yet. 

Branch never met his dad. Their parents had been separated when he was born but the divorce was not finalized until he was almost a year old. That is when John was forced to leave. 

Branch has vague memories that are actually of John. Calloused hands (JD used to play guitar), maybe goggles and a faint lullaby no one can tell where it came from. In reality, JD sang it to him constantly to get him to sleep. He wrote it. 

Their mother cut off everything and was extremely bitter. The divorce was ugly and she didn’t like anyone talking about John or their father. So, after a few years, no one did. It just built up until he was a distant memory, and no one really thought of him. 

Their dad wasn't much better but he was left with very little in the divorce anyways.

John on the other hand, wasn’t left with a lot. He was lonely and clung to the memory of his brothers with everything he had. Being away from them broke his heart, as he was close with all of them and took care of them. He was their big brother and close with them.

Bruce left home the moment he could when he turned 18. He tried to keep in contact with them, although his mother didn’t really like it. Clay felt betrayed. Bruce currently lives in Hawaii and owns a small resort with his native Hawaiian wife, and they have a couple of kids. 

Clay did one semester at the local college to stay close to home but when their mother died and Floyd and Branch moved in with Grandma, he went to another school further away, one he wanted. Clay has been in and out of school for many years and is working on idk, some kind of doctorate or masters or whatever. 

Floyd went to the local college for a while but then his music career started to pick up and now he does a fair bit of traveling. He is musically inclined and seriously started making music after his mother died. He plays an old guitar that he found in their house and just can’t let it go. He doesn’t actually know it was JD’s. There is a symbol on it that is actually initials. 

Bruce does try to call Clay when John is with him but Clay absolutely does not want to talk to him. He barely answers the phone and hangs up before JD could get a word in. 

Eventually JD just gets a plane ticket and flies out to the college to try and find him. Like this entirely blindsides Clay; he has zero clue. At this point JD is still struggling to get around and doesn’t have a lot of things… including a phone. So he just kind of disappears and well… Bruce panics a little. They are gonna haveta work on their communication a bit.

Branch is about 16 and lives with his grandmother. She likes to garden and they have an old dog named Gary. He is extremely smart and has a wealth of knowledge but people avoidant. He wants to go somewhere but he doesn’t want to be alone and he doesn’t know where. He’d like to do more outdoorsy things but his grandmother cannot and he doesn’t actually know much. 

This is partially how he and JD bond. He spends a while with them, showing up one day and helps Branch with the outdoorsy stuff, actually teaching him things like how to start a fire, pitch a tent, a lot of stuff dudes like to do. He even helps start teaching him to drive. Just a little. 

Rosiepuff does suggest JD just stay with them since Branch seems to really like him and he has difficulty actually having fun/getting friends/talking with people but by this time, JD has a place and responsibilities and can’t stay. Besides, he doesn’t want to burden his grandmother. 

Branch ends up spending at least a summer in Hawaii with JD by suggestion of their grandmother. It goes well. 

JD jokes about where his leg ended up. He thinks he left it back in Sudan but he’s not sure. He’ll tell everyone different stories on where it is. It’s kind of dark humor sometimes that… don’t always bode well with people. 

Delta is probably one of JD's squad. I'm not sure who else. In their free time, they make a pretty awesome singing group though

There will probably be more but idk