#little curly mutt

[princesssarisa]

My pets aren't with me anymore, but I'll share as many of the silly names I used to call them as I remember.

hang on I’m trying to see something

don’t tell me the name of your pet, just tell me in the tags the name you call them that’s got nothing to do with their actual name

[darknight3904]

You're a Liar

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ (ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ʙᴀᴅ ���ɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)

ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ. ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴛᴅ ꜱᴏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ/ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ʙʀᴀɪɴ ʀᴏᴛ.

Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The way the sun just barely peaked through the curtains and shimmered its way across the bedspread made your shared room with Coriolanus look simply divine.

Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The delicious scent of bacon and freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the mansion and under your closed door. The promise of fresh orange juice and perfectly hot coffee was enough to rouse anyone from their slumber.

Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. Coriolanus is still asleep beside you. Curly hair is splayed on the pillow, free from whatever styling gel he put in it. His face is relaxed and peaceful as you run your fingertips across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. The stress of being president is gone from his face when he sleeps and that's how you know, mornings are your favorite time of day.

"I can feel you staring at me."

His voice was still muddled with sleep, deep and scratchy as he batted at your hands trying to keep them off his gorgeous face.

"I'm appreciating the art in front of me," You smile as he finally opens his eyes.

"Your hands on my face are making my nose itch." He says grabbing your right hand and gently squeezing it as he sits up beside you.

You hum a tune of acknowledgment and take in his appearance. Coriolanus' pale skin was a wonderful sight to behold as the blanket slipped and fell into his lap.

"You're staring again." He says playing with your fingers

"An incredibly attractive man seems to be missing his shirt, can you blame me for staring?" You state a playful smile pulling on your lips.

Coriolanus lets out a snort and gets out of bed with a grunt. Long red scratches adorn his back as you watch your fiancee walk across the room towards the bathroom, ready to scrub last night's activities off himself.

Yes, mornings were your favorite time of day. You had warm sunshine, delicious food, and Coriolanus by your side.

But, most of all, mornings were your favorite because you weren't alone.

Coriolanus never truly wanted to leave the bedroom he shared with you. Even now as you groaned and begged him to just lounge around the mansion with you, he wished he could go back to when he felt your soft fingertips brushing the bridge of his nose. He had woken up beside you, cleaned himself, and eaten a wonderful breakfast, now the next step was simple. The next step was attending to his duties as the President of Panem and leaving you to your day in the south wing of the mansion. Despite the tempting idea of staying with you, he knew you'd be eagerly awaiting him, tonight at the dinner table, ready to listen about his day. It was the perfect daily routine and Coriolanus never wanted it to change.

He could feel the press of your lips on his lingering hours later as the newest Head Gamemaker listed detailed plans for the games that were two months away. Dr. Gaul's death had been a blow to the way the Hunger Games functioned as a whole. Now, Coriolanus wasn't sure if the new man chosen for the job was truly the correct choice, he didn't have any of the ruthlessness Gaul had. Sure, he could've stepped in but how would he run the country and dream up deadly traps and mutts for tributes. Sure, he probably could've but that meant so many hours of overtime and leaving you to sleep alone in those overly soft sheets you had hand-picked for your shared bed. This new game maker would just have to do, he didn't want to imagine your sad little face if he didn't sit down for dinner with you each night.

The hours after Coriolanus left you at the breakfast table were terribly boring. There wasn't anything for you to do anymore.Sure, you could've gone shopping or gone to a local park but you hated doing all those things alone. Coriolanus had convinced you that running your Father's weapons company would be overwhelming for you and managed it in your name. As far as you knew it was doing well and was providing many jobs for people in the districts. Everything else in the mansion was tended to by an army of maids and butlers, who were ready at the snap of a finger. So, here you sat in your sunroom that Coriolanus had built as a special place just for you.

You had taken up painting nearly a year ago but your long days of solitude had caused you to quickly run out of inspiration. Now, the paints and easel sat, awaiting your touch but your creativity was gone. You missed Coriolanus and he wouldn't return for another hour. Surely dinner was nearly ready and you wished you were sitting with him, listening to whatever he had spent his day doing. Perhaps you should start a new book before he returns. That'd give you something to tell him about when he did come back.

Maybe the extensive in-home library here would have a book about a lonely woman, wishing for her lover. Maybe there'd be a book all about her and how she spent her days without him and how to pass the time. Maybe, there'd be a book all about her mornings with him and how she never wished for them to come to an end.

It was during these long days that you felt like the loneliest woman in all of Panem. Moments like this made it feel like you were a delicate china doll, only removed from her case to be admired for a few spare moments before being placed back on her shelf.

Two Years Later

Watching. It was something you had gotten good at over the past few months, especially since Coriolanus stopped allowing you to leave the grounds of the mansion. You watched as the boy you grew up with and danced at countless galas faded from view. You tried to welcome the man who sat across from you eating his dinner but it was had more and more difficult as the weeks bled into months and months turned to years. Coriolanus even seldom kissed you now. It hurt even though you knew it was for your own safety. He had admitted it one night in the darkness of your room as he lay beside you. Poison had created sensitive sores in his mouth. You wished he'd stop using it, surely there had to be other ways to do away with enemies.

You felt as though you were withering away, your days were so tedious and you often found yourself eagerly waiting at the dinner table for Coriolanus. Your long days were spent in isolation and you rarely spoke to the staff of the mansion. That didn't stop you from racing to the dining room when the sounds of Coriolanus' return sounded through the halls. Some days it felt like you were a child waiting to tell their parent about their day.

Tonight, it was like your words were falling on deaf ears as Coriolanus was paging through a book while nibbling at the food that had been placed in front of the two of you. Your engagement ring was a dazzling silver as you played with your fingers, wishing he'd look up from whatever knowledge that book might've held.

"Coryo..." You began

"Yes?"

His tone wasn't what you had hoped for. He was annoyed that you were interrupting whatever was on the page in front of him so you didn't elaborate on what you had wanted to say.

Watching. It was something you had gotten good at since there wasn't anything else for you to do.

It was raining the day you found them. You had spent most of the day lounging around and working with the wedding planner Coriolanus had hired so you wouldn't have to do all of the work yourself.

It was nestled in an old shoe box, covered in dust, perfectly hidden behind Coriolanus' clothes on his side of the closet. At first, you had thought it might have been more of Sejanus' things that Coriolanus never gave back to Strabo. Instead what you were met with was worse than a dead boy's things. There, wrapped up in a silky orange scarf sat a single golden earring and an envelope. You swore you could smell lingering perfume on the scarf as you opened the envelope.

It felt like your hands were burning when you finally looked at them. Surely they weren't real. Right?

Two pictures sat in your hands. One of Lucy Gray Baird on some unknown stage, a black guitar in hand. Her pretty dark curls were pulled back and behind her a small group of blurry faces were muddled together, unrecognizable due to the poor lighting. You felt a lump of anxiety and anger swell in your throat when you moved on to the next picture. It was taken as if the subjects of the photo had no knowledge of the camera. Lucy Gray sits on a dilapidated-looking couch with your Coriolanus beside her. Her face was partially obscured as she pressed her lips to his cheek and Coriolanus was smiling, his one arm wrapped securely around her waist.

How long had it been since he smiled like that at you? Perhaps it was even before the reaping that had brought her to the Capitol. When was the last time you saw a truly genuine smile from the boy you grew up with? You wondered how you had missed the way his boyish smiles had transformed into those cruel smirks he donned when things went his way.

Jealousy and sadness burned in your stomach as your mind raced. How long had it been since these photos were taken? It had been nearly 7 years since her games. Coriolanus' head was clearly buzzed in the photo with Lucy which meant it was after he was forced by Highbottom to leave the Capitol. How many times after his return to you had he assured you that nothing had happened between them? How many times had you believed him and his sweet words and actions? How many times had he lied and betrayed you all for another girl who mysteriously disappeared?

Betrayal is what you felt as you pocketed the pictures and slid the box back into its spot behind his fancy coats. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you dressed for dinner, Coriolanus would be back soon and you would confront him about the pictures once he was seated across from you at that dinner table you had sat at hundreds of times.

Dinner is silent as you pick at the cut of steak that was placed on your plate. Coriolanus is talking about how he's on the hunt for another head game maker and how annoying it is but you just can't help but not care. The table that separates you from him makes it feel like a huge ravine has grown between the two of you as you tune him out.

15 years is how long you've known Coriolanus Snow. In those 15 years, you had never dreamed of doing what you were about to do as you removed the pictures from where they sat hidden under your pretty skirt, a floral pattern Coriolanus had picked for your 27th birthday a few months ago. Your heart ached as you slid them across the table to him.

"I found these today. In our closet. Wrapped in your mother's scarf with a gold earring."

You finally have all of Coriolanus' attention as he swallows his food and stops his complaining.

"I thought you said it wasn't romantic. You promised me it wasn't."

Coriolanus glances down at the pictures and reaches out to brush his finger across the one with him and Lucy Gray on that couch.

"You promised, Coryo."

Your voice was breaking. Damn it, don't cry!

"I know I did."

He finally speaks. You wondered what was going through that ridiculously complex mind as he fumbled for his words.

"Then why did you lie? I would've listened if you had just told the truth to begin with." You honestly say.

It's true, you would've heard him out. Maybe you wouldn't have taken him back but you would have at least listened.

"I wasn't thinking straight, okay," He says " I should've told you. I should've gotten rid of that stuff years ago. I don't know why I didn't."

"Yes, you do." You sigh "You love her Coryo. Even now, you're looking for Lucy Gray. That's why you keep me here, you're scared I'll run off like her."

"No, no that's not it. I just...want you to myself." He reasoned

"If that were true you'd let me leave."

"Why do you need to? Everything anyone could ever wish for is right here in this home." He points out, you don't miss the way his fist is clenching, his nails digging into his skin.

"I haven't left the mansion in two years!" You cry, blinking back tears "I feel like some prize you've won and caged up! You don't even let me attend galas anymore."

"You hated those galas. All the nosey reporters and their questions were something you hated. Do you want me to apologize for doing you a favor? I won't. I've done nothing but make your life easier." Coriolanus says

"Yes, you have made my life easier, you've eliminated all challenges I might come across by keeping me here, like a doll." You agree, tone dripping with sarcasm

"Look, if you want you can go to the next gala with me. It's in a week I'll get a designer here tomorrow morning to make you a nice dress." Coriolanus sighed, clearly tired "I don't want to argue with you about petty things"

"Good, then we can argue about these photos." You say, ready to finally hear what he had to say.

"I don't love her. Maybe I did at some point but none of that matters now, I came back to you didn't I?"

Maybe I did at some point.

Hot tears fell from your eyes as you looked down at your feet. How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you see it sooner?

The sound of Coriolanus getting up and walking towards you had you wiping at your face and unattractively sniffing as you tried to fix your runny nose. You didn't want him taking your tears as a sign of weakness. He couched down beside you and pulled your chair out so you were facing him.

"Stop crying." He commands placing his hands on your thighs.

Another fresh set of tears falls from your eyes and Coriolanus brushes them away.

"You're a liar." You say, your voice barely a whisper

"I'm not...I want to be here, with you. I'll let you go back out on your little shopping trips and attend galas, shitty reporters and all."

It's tempting, to agree and let everything perfectly mend itself. But as you glance at the pictures that fell off the table and Lucy Gray's face stares back at you, you feel your heart sink to your feet again.

"You're a liar." You say, this time your voice comes out strong as you push his warm hands from your face

Coriolanus gives you a hard stare but lets you pull away from him.

"You can't even apologize for seeing her." You point out

Coriolanus looks guilty as he disgests your words.

"What happened between the two of you?" You asked

"She ran off, I think. I also had some personal issues after Sejanus was killed. She offered for me to go with her, I almost did." He says

You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment as Coriolanus remains in front of you, on his knees, fiddling with the end of your skirt.

"I don't think I ever really loved her. I think it might've just been the idea of possessing her that I liked." He admits, eyes on the floor

"And how is that different than us now?" You ask

Coriolanus' eyes snap up to yours when the question leaves your lips.

"It's different because...we're us...We grew up together, darling. You ate Tigris' cabbage soup and gave me lunch when I didn't have money for my own."

You swallow the lump in your throat and stand up. Coriolanus immediately rises, not interested in being so much shorter than you. You know what has to come next but you're not sure if you're strong enough to do it. Your actions will close the chapter of a book 15 years in the making.

"Coryo...I think I want to go home." You say looking up at him, fresh tears pool in your eyes.

"You are home. You're with me." He says reaching out and taking your hand in his

"No, I mean...to my family's home. I want my mom, I miss her." You admit, pulling your hand out of his.

Coriolanus' face is confused as you look down at the gorgeous ring he gave you at his proposal. It looked so perfect on your hand when you woke up just this morning but now it felt like a death sentence as you sighed.

"I think you should have this back too..." You say as you slip it off and hold it out to him, "I'm sorry about things ending like this, but if you can't even apologize, I don't think I can stay."

Coriolanus' confusion quickly morphs into anger as he looks at the ring in your hand.

"Put it back on. I'm not letting you walk away." He says, upset

"Coryo, don't make this difficult." You say taking the ring and placing it into the pocket that sits just above his heart in his button-up shirt.

You begin to walk towards the looming archway that marks the entrance to the dining room but you're blocked by an angry Coriolanus Snow, tears in his eyes, fists clenched, and his mouth set in a cold line.

"You're not leaving. I won't let you."

Part Four

Series Masterlist

Taglist:

@10ava01

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[coryosbaby]

I Wanna Be Your Dog

Teammate! Patrick Zweig x fem! Reader (minor mention: Patrick Zweig x reader x art Donaldson)

18+, MDNI !!

Content warning . Pervy dom Patrick, major scent kink, wedgies, use of the word mutt once or twice, spanking, anal. A hint— a HINT— of a foot kink (I swear it’s not what it looks like). weird bullying tactics/ dynamics & teammate rivalry. Patrick is gross and unhinged in this

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG loves to get filthy. If you ever come to him for a release, expect it to get sloppy and downright fucking disgusting. He loves to shove your nose right up against his pubic hair, all curly and dark, while he ruts against your face like an animal. He loves that you do anything he asks of you (outside of tennis, at least). So when he slides his cock up against your face for the first time— “cmon, baby, breathe that shit in… thaaaats it. You love that, don’t you? You dirty little girl-”— you exhale sharply and mewl. The idea of TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG shoving his cock down your throat shouldn’t be as appealing as it is.

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG who lets you use his thigh to get off when he’s fixing one of his tennis rackets. The actual fixing doesn’t last long, obviously, because you get mad and you get bratty and you make fun of him for losing to you the day before. Patrick’s muscled thigh soon acts as a chair for your pussy as he guides your hips with one hand, the other wrapped around your throat and squeezing — “Can’t run that mouth now, huh? Yeah, that’s what I thought, brat”— as he feels the sticky trail of arousal you leave on his hairy leg. TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG also makes you clean up your mess afterward, ass perky and up against his face as he forces your tongue against his thigh and begins to peel your underwear to the side. Spreading apart your cheeks and tonguing your cute little asshole as you bury your face into his crotch for a more comfortable position.

And that’s when you feel the wet patch on the front of his briefs against your lip. His big fat cock is just aching for a nice, creamy cunt to come and choke it. He tells you that, too, and presses your legs down onto his hips, your hands against the floor holding you up so he can slide right in.

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG who drags you into the sauna after a game. Just sits you down right across from him, rubs it in your face that you lost, and then stands right in front of you and drops his towel. All sweaty and musky and warm ughhh. And you can’t help but shove your face against his dick and let him hump against it, your tongue laving over his balls and making him cum all over your chin and neck. Doesn’t even give you anything to wipe it off with, just slaps your cheek lightly and says, “good job, kid” as he walks off (because TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG KNOWS you despise that nickname and the way he dumbs you down).

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG loves to do this mean thing where he comes up behind you, sweaty and gross, and sticks his hand down the front of his pants. He shoves his fingers in your mouth— “taste that shit? Fuckin’ beat you again at practice, you little fuckin’ loser-“— swirls it around on your tongue then pokes the back of your throat until you gag. You push him off of you and swear up and down at him, but your panties are already soaked and you know you’ll be at his house later that night.

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG loves to shove your head against his sweaty armpit after you beat him at practice. He gets so mad and acts like a five year old. It makes you giggle until he’s holding you there and calling you a dirty mutt for “cheating”.

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG loves to shove his head between your thighs. No matter the day or time, he’s always got that tongue working wonders on you. Whether it be on your pussy, clit, ass. He doesn’t care! In fact, he prefers when you just finished tennis practice. If you have a hole, especially when it’s sweaty and warmed up, TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG is gonna stick his fucking tongue in it.

He’s good at it too. Uses his fingers and crooks them just right, absolutely devours that pussy like it’s his last meal. Clit swollen and throbbing as he takes it between his lips, chin and beard drenched in slick. His honey, as he calls it. The nectar of the Gods.

He loves putting his tongue on your little furled asshole, stretching out your rim and GODD is it the hottest fucking sight for him. TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG, ladies and gentlemen, is an ass man. A fuck-it-and-fill-it-with-cream-then-eat-it-out-of-you type of ass man. And I don’t mean with just yours, if you get what I’m saying. You’re his little whore and he’s gonna stick your mouth wherever he wants it to be (and you have zero complaints).

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG is kind of a weird guy. Sometimes he bites the ends of your toes when he’s got your legs hiked up in the air and drilling into you. What can he say? He likes the pink nail polish you have on and the golden bracelet wrapped around your ankle.

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG’s favorite position is doggy. Loves to watch your ass bounce as his balls slap against it ‘n the way your little asshole opens and closes like a pretty flower with each thrust. He also likes the way your back arches and how easy it is for him to wrap his biceps around your neck and choke you until you nearly pass out. TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG also loves when he’s got you in missionary and you shove your fingers into his mouth. He sucks on the digits while his eyes roll back and he grunts out a curse. He bites down on them when he finishes.

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG loves when you beg for it. Spit slick lips sliding against his with a breathy whimper— “please, please, please, Pat, need it-“— as you take all eight inches deep in your tight little snatch, lips stretched obscenely around his length. Cunt drooling with your third—fourth?— orgasm of the night, eyes rolling back as your nails scrape down his broad shoulders. Abolishes that fucking pussy cus he’s so desperate to shoot his load.

TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG loves to cum all over your face and tits. Practically drenches you in his fucking cum, plays with it with his thumb and feeds it to you as it drips off his fingers. Messy creampies in your sore little pussy, spreading apart your hole so he can admire the sound it makes as it gushes out of you. Stuffing your ass full of creamy white cum and plugging it with a cute lil’ diamond anal plug. Ughh I need him

Lastly, TEAMMATE! PATRICK ZWEIG gives you wedgies. He bullies you so obscenely— sometimes he does it in front of your other teammate, Art. He’ll invite the man over, talking to him about the most random topics before girls are brought up. They’ll start talking about hookups, one night stands. You come back from a bathroom trip when they’re talking about pussy, and Patrick takes a swig of his beer and yanks you down on top of him. You grumble— no one is supposed to know ! But Art is Art, you guess, and he isn’t a completely terrible guy. He can keep a secret.

Patrick twists you and shapes you against his lap until you’re splayed across him, much to your annoyance. Your tummy presses into his thigh and your bare feet graze Art’s knee as Patrick directs the blonde’s attention to you. “yeah, but this one’s tight man. So wet, too—“

“Pat, if you don’t let me up, I swear to God—“

“You’ll what?”

He taunts you, flipping up your skirt and letting out a whistle. Art’s just as much as a sick perv, but he’s less open about it, so his cock tightens in his jeans and his eyes widen.

“She’s got such a cute little ass. She’d probably let you fuck it if you gave her a few wins on the court.”

You growl, but not before you’re whimpering when Patrick’s long fingers hook into the middle of your panties and pulls. Your underwear is pushed forcefully in between your cheeks, burning a little but also putting so much delicious pain/pleasure friction on your swollen clit. Patrick licks his lips when he sees the way your cunt lips practically swallow the fabric— he’s almost jealous of it as it becomes soaked with your slick. You press your head into your hands, embarrassed because of the company. Patrick ignores it, though, and his hand comes down on your backside as he holds you up by your panties. ‘N Art can’t help but let out a little chuckle when you begin to squirm, his fingers barely, just barely, leaving feather light touches on your outer thigh.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Quit it, guys, ‘s not funny!”

“Maybe,” Patrick chuckles, grabbing Art’s hand and pressing it against your skin so he can touch you properly. You can’t deny that Art’s hands feel good when they trail up to your ass and give your plump cheeks a nice squeeze. “But you’re adorable, sweet cheeks, and I think Art wants to watch us fuck.”

The three of you never speak about that night, but there are a lot more of them to come— literally.

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[tacticalanklenuzzler3000]

Ellis Twilight x Reader x Jude Jazza

MDNI 18+ ONLY

hehehaahaha ahahahehehehehmhmhmhmhmtngmngfmfn

happy birthday Ellis my beloved. pretend like I posted this on the 4th.

I fooled all of u into following my side blog so you can watch me write smut about anime guys instead of big military men rhahagahahahgaa

cw: mfm threesome, reader has a vagaina and breasts but no size description, reader is gender neutral, my boyfriends are kissing each other! we are bisexual! HAPPY PRIIIIIDEEEEEE, lewd? fingering, overstimulation, kissing, uhhh slight pet play?? words like cunt are used, praise kink go crazy go stupid, degradation kink go silly, self indulgent look away from me

do they hate each other? a little bit yes, but they can turn that part of their brain off to bond over the love of your body. you are the bridge for their emotional gap and what an honor this is for you.

thankfully they don't bicker back and forth much, considering Ellis is so passive. he will accommodate the both of you, even if Jude is snapping at him.

tho all of his mean snaps and sharp words die on the soft curves of your body (sort of.) it at least gets him to shut up long enough to kiss your skin.

even so, you were a bit hazy on how you ended up with the 2 of them in your bed. your back to Jude's abdomen and Ellis on his knees between your splayed legs. their fingers were cold against your skin, goosebumps following right behind their fingertips.

"you aren't kissing me right.." Ellis whines in that whispery tone. he moves to pepper kisses along your cheeks. "want it like this.." his voice almost as soft as a whisper.

you whine at the loss of his lips, watching him sit back up on his knees. in one easy motion, Ellis moved his lips from your cheeks to Jude's lips.

even caught deep in a kiss, Jude looked irritable. you figured that was just his permanent expression.

2 pairs of hands pet and groped at your pliant body. when you closed your eyes, savoring their touch, you could tell who was who if you thought hard enough. however, thinking was last on your list of things to do right now.

Ellis used his fingertips mostly, drawing shapes on your thighs or trailing them from your throat down your sternum. he'd call you a sweet pup, so soft and easy [/praise♡]

Jude would knead your skin like dough and push his manicured nails into it. every soft swell would be subject to his groping and pinching. he'd squish your soft hips and splay his hands on your plush tummy, all while calling you a needy dog, a mutt in heat. you're so easy [/degrading♡]

a tight coil started building in your abdomen. was it jealousy, wanting all the attention to be on you? jude did complain about how needy you were.. or was it your slowly winding orgasm from Ellis's long fingers circling your clit? you chalked it up to the latter, lips parting to a soft pant.

the 2 finally pulled away from each other, their lips kissed red and glossy.

"..hah..." Ellis's cheeks were dusted a satisfied pink. his deep jewel toned eyes were hazy with a happy lust when he looked down to you again.

"can you do that for me?" he asked, eager, hunching over you again.

"quit hoggin' 'em," Jude complained, tugging you closer to his body.

" 'm not," Ellis countered, kissing up to your lips again. Jude was quick to suck his teeth at the sight. he was never the best at sharing

he found your mouth again. Ellis was nothing if not earnest. with the way he pressed himself against you, it felt like he could never get close enough. you never met someone who kissed with their whole body before.

absorbed in the attention Ellis gave you, you hardly registered Jude's cold hands moving down your legs. tucking his fingers behind your knees, he brought them up to your chest.

you were tucked into a ball between them the new position was essentially presenting your tight heat like a meal on a platter. and that glint in Ellis's eyes told you he was awful hungry

his curly hair tickled your chest and stomach when he kissed down your soft body. the softness of his touch was quite the contrast to Jude's pinching and groping.

Ellis leaned his head against your thigh and sighed, dreamy and warm. goosebumps quickly bloomed against your skin. he and Jude watched with blown pupils as Ellis's ring and middle finger sank effortlessly into you. you squirmed some, from his fingers, the position you were folded into, or the 2 pairs of eyes on your naked body, you weren't sure.

slender fingers prodded and scissored between your walls, searching for any spot that would make you squeal. palm up, ellis circled and pushed until the tips of his fingers were just on your sweet spot. you curled your toes in anticipation, breath hitching for just a moment

"there it is," Jude's keen eye didn't miss your subtle reactions.

Jude slipped a hand free from one of your legs. Ellis was quick to take it in his own, setting your ankle on his shoulder. working together for so long has given them almost a 6th sense. it's like they communicate telepathicly.

your theory of mind reading is essentially confirmed when Ellis pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you. Jude's free hand found your needy clit immediately after and you felt like you could already see stars.

you stuttered out a moan, head falling back in pleasure. if Ellis's fingers were any deeper, you were sure you could feel them in your throat. and if Jude's constant circling of your clit was any faster it would boarder on overstimulation.

" 's good ain't it?" Jude teased, moving his hand away from your clit to grab your chin.

you whimpered, cheeks dented from his fingers pushing into them. you could hear the devilish grin in his voice when he forced you to watch Ellis between your legs.l

Ellis moaned from deep in his chest, latching his mouth to your cunt. he practically had hearts in his eyes looking up at you, moan vibrating your already sensitive clit.

"yes- fuuck.." you whined, nodding eagerly. you hoped with enough enthusiasm, and they wouldn't edge you.

their needy hands, sultry voices, and mixed scent were driving you to your climax even faster. it was making your already mushy brain turn to pure goo.

"so pretty.." Ellis mumbled, lips barely leaving your skin.

you flushed red, not sure if he talking to you or your pussy at this point. he was drunk off your body, moaning and whining as his tongue pushed into you. your hips desperately bucked and squirmed, to get closer the source of pleasure or run away from it, you weren't sure.

Jude mumbled something about being 'like a dog,' but you chose to ignore it not knowing if it was meant for you or Ellis. however, he was proven right when Ellis was all but nuzzling into your palm. you tried not to pull his hair like reigns, but with the way he way he was kissing and sucking at your clit you couldn't help it.

at this point, Jude had released your other leg, letting it fall open to accommodate Ellis's wide shoulders. with both hands free, your poor body was subject to his relentlessness.

his teeth quickly found your shoulder, and fingertips quickly found your nipples. already kissed and sucked hypersensitive by Ellis, Jude's pinching and palming of your chest was boarding on too much of a good thing.

all of it was too much. you could hardly get a full lungs worth of air, most of it being pushed out with your moans.

"aa, th're almost there.." Ellis mumbled against your fluttering cunt. his soft voice was so laced with lust that you could almost feel the words hot against your body.

"y-yes! almo-oh-st.. fuck-!" you nodded, hips struggling to buck with the tight grip Ellis had 💔

"maybe when we're done, we'll teach ya t' watch that mouth, huh?" Jude nipped at your ear, giving youa few more firm circles of your clit.

finally

that was all you needed. your nails dug into Jude's forearm and your legs clamped tight around Ellis's head. you figured he'll be alright without air for a minute while you rode out your long deserved orgasm.

Jude gently pats your tummy with a quick kiss to the side of your sweaty temple. it's his version of saying "good dog" when you finally come down.

Ellis doesn't know when to stop. he will keep kissing and trying with your pussy if you let him. don't let him unless you've cleared your schedule.

thanks for reading! tell me what you liked and support ur local writers with a RB! :3

[himbosimpraccoon]

Something about how Curly is trusting to his own detriment... caged by his trust towards Jimmy (even as that eventually dies it still cages him by his past actions)... doglike*, loyal. Something about how he is the only one who goes by his last name, completely defined by his title, to the very last moment. Something about how Moscow mutt Laika was called Кудрявка as a pet name, Kudryavka, little curly.

*(Edit! My use of the word "doglike" was unnecessary, didn't help show my point, was honestly easy to misinterpret, and was kinda thoughtless. All the stuff above is my original wording, since I didn't wanna erase it- mistakes happen, people. My intension wasn't to compare a disabled character to a dog, it was simply to say the name might've been intentional since Laika is frankly iconic and heavily associated with spacefarers. That's all. I know infantilization personally, and am not trying to minimize the issue it is. This has nothing to do with Curly being disabled! Thanks)

[lichen-soup-scribe]

it was worth it. it was so worth it

Fuck Ticketmaster, I only do the set-an-alarm, refresh-the-website-20-times, have-my-credit-card-handy thing for preorders from the local wonton truck

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

plsplsplsplsplsplsplspls hcs for curly dating curtis reader🤲🤲🤲🙏🙏🙏🙏

A/N: This is late, but things have been way crazy around here and that’s an understatement actually, but please take this and enjoy!

So for this set of headcanons, you’re a Curtis and to fit the age bracket, you’re gonna be Ponyboy’s twin! That way, you’re in the same year as Pony in school, the same year as Curly and Johnnycake too

But anyways- Curly dating a Curtis!Reader….let’s have some fun, shall we?

The three boys, your older brothers, do not care for Curly very much and they’re going to let you know that quite often-

At school, when Curly comes to visit you at your locker, Ponyboy gags and rolls his eyes because he’s sick of the lovesick look Curly gives you when he thinks nobody else is looking

Sodapop is a firm enforcer of the leave the door open rule when Curly comes over and will just waltz into your room without any sort of announcement because he just wants to check on you crazy kids

When Curly tries to take you out, Darry drills you on what’s going to happen for at least ten minutes before you leave because he wants to make sure that Curly’s not taking you out to vandalize the town or anything

In short?

They all think that Curly’s way too greasy for you and they think you can do way better than Curly

But we know that’s not true, don’t we folks? Curly’s a sweetheart, even if he’s a bad boy, he’s a good guy and he’s good to you-

Dating Curly as a Curtis is going to mean a lot of sneaking out and sneaking in, that’s just the way it runs-

He gets very good at tossing pebbles at your window and you get very good about coming in and out of the house without stepping on any squeaky floorboards or waking anyone up

Let’s be honest, the door never being locked helps you out a whole lot

You and Curly will probably be spending a lot of time over at his place because your brothers aren’t there, duh, and Curly doesn’t have to deal with them hounding him

However, you will have to deal with the hounding, especially if you’re coming home late and you tell Darry where you’ve been hanging out

Tim’s a lot more chill about Curly dating a Curtis kid but the first time he brought you over and Tim caught sight of you, he decided he’d have a little talk with Curly once you leave-

Don’t worry! Tim thinks you’re great! But as much as he likes you, he knows his kid brother can be an idiot sometimes and Tim doesn’t really want to tangle with the Curtis clan because Curly went and broke your heart by being stupid

Also, whenever Curly gets hauled back to reform, let’s be real, it’s gonna happen at least a few more times, you’re gonna cry and be sad and your brothers are gonna have no clue how to handle it

They’re gonna look between themselves and maybe make a stupid comment or two but once they see how sad you actually are, Sodapop will probably offer to drive you out to visit him in reform

The rest of the Curtis gang find it a little bit funny just how peeved the three boys get when everyone learns you’re going steady with Curly

Sometimes Two-Bit will run his mouth and say he caught you all being little delinquents when you were out on a date just to get Darry all fired up

Curly definitely doesn’t help the hate he receives either, he’s all for kissing you way past decent and saying all sorts of unhelpful things in your ear when you’re around your brothers because Curly likes to stir the pot and generally likes causing chaos

But honestly? He’s good to you, and the boys only need to see a few examples of that to believe it

Let him pay for dinner a few times, get you home before curfew just enough for Darry to consider extending your curfew, and make sure Curly cleans up just enough when he’s gotta try and pretend like he’s a well-meaning, valuable member of society

With all of that being said though…

Curly could turn up on your doorstep, bleeding from a fight and looking for you to patch him up, and all three of your brothers would tell you that your mutt’s looking for you

TL;DR; the boys are jerks to Curly, but Curly kind of deserves it, and they all know he’s actually good for you, even if they tell you that you can do way better-

[jikupikus]

trans!curly / jimcurly / mdni

In all ways Curly is someone who Jimmy wants to be.

He’s kind, he’s handsome, he’s a leader, and people respect him. He knows what to say and when to say it, and others listen to him like how a dog listens to a master. Curly doesn’t even demand esteem, he just gets it, and it pisses Jimmy off.

It’s been that way for a while, and all Jimmy can do is stomach it. He doesn’t know what happened, what strings Curly had to pull, but he tugged those strings and is now sitting pretty on his pedestal looking down from his rosy spot onto the other crew members– onto Jimmy.

The worst part about it is that Curly isn’t even a man, or at least not one in the technical sense. Jimmy remembers when he was a scrawny little girl with poofy long blonde hair that his mom wouldn’t allow him to straighten or cut. He remembers Curly’s braces, and how he would mispronounce words and stumble over his sentences. He remembers the skirts he had to wear because he wasn’t allowed to wear pants, or anything “revealing” for that matter that wasn’t what his stuffy fucking Pentecostal parents approved of.

They met at a church that Jimmy didn’t attend with a chain link fence surrounding the perimeter overlooking a busted white trash trailer park. His mom used to talk shit about that church and how fake everyone is, how they will say “bless your heart” to her when she was on the front porch hitting the glass pipe right before CPS showed up in Jimmy’s front lawn with a nosy cop the next day.

“Remember when my mom used to have a nasty meth addiction and get so addled that she’d accuse us of stealing her spoons?” Jimmy says off handedly one day in the cockpit.

“I don’t think she liked me much,” Curly muses, brow puckering. “Then again I don’t think she liked anyone.”

Jimmy leans over in his chair, his brows creeping up his forehead. “No, she didn’t. I think the meth fried her brain,” he says. “The only time she didn’t do meth was when she was pregnant with me.”

Curly looks over, a smirk playing on his lips. “What did she do instead?”

Jimmy’s face fell, but he played it off. Curly didn’t mean anything by it, maybe. He definitely did, actually. Jimmy crosses his arms, affronted. So much for playing it off.

Sometimes Jimmy’s emotions got the better of him like now, but he can’t help the visceral annoyance that creeps up in him like an invasive vine.

“You fucker,” Jimmy spits. “She wasn’t clean, as you know. I don’t know why you had to go there, but heroin.”

Curly’s eyes flit over to Jimmy, expression apologetic in its own manipulative way. He hates how Curly wilts at any backlash; it’s pathetic in how he behaves like a kicked mutt at any ounce of criticism.

Maybe he’s a little too hard, maybe. Whatever, Curly can just deal with it.

“I… didn’t know. Sorry. I was just joking”–

“Shitty joke,” Jimmy states flatly. “Don’t know why we can’t have a conversation where you don’t make a comment at my expense. It’s kind of annoying.”

Curly’s mouth draws into a taut line, obviously affected by the weight of Jimmy’s words and how they land so heavily on his shoulders. He twists the knife regardless.

They’ve always been that way together, and Curly has always been too sensitive for his own good. Too appeasing, placating. He has never told Jimmy no nor has he ever defended himself. Jimmy thinks his leadership is ill-placed because even if he is well respected and people listen to him, he’s a big fucking pushover. It’s goddamned irritating.

He found that out when they were kids, when Curly forked over his sour gummies because Jimmy threatened to beat his nose in with a rock. Not once did he claim that Jimmy couldn’t hit a girl, nor did Curly ever use any method of defense. He gave up just like that.

Curly is the same now as he was then.

Jimmy sighs, arms unraveling. “Relax. I’m not mad or anything. Don’t get so worked up over something so trivial.”

Curly deflates. He drags his hand down his face, smoothing out the lines of exhaustion that creases his skin around his nose. Dark circles paint his eyes from lack of sleep, his normally bright blue gaze dull and lacking life.

“I guess I’m more sensitive than I normally am. I haven’t slept well at all since we’ve disembarked, maybe averaging one to two hours of sleep a night.” Curly explains himself to Jimmy. It’s another compulsive habit of his, one that makes Jimmy’s heart swell.

He likes that he can wiggle his fingers in the cracks of Curly’s otherwise pristine surface. Curly is riddled with small, hairline cracks, and Jimmy knows exactly how to chip away at his vulnerabilities.

Jimmy will claw his way up Curly’s pedestal and drag him down to his level.

“You need to relax, Captain,” Jimmy presses. He takes Curly’s hand off the center console, holding it in his own rough, calloused palm as his heavy lidded gaze lingers on his friend.

Curly drags his hand out of Jimmy’s grasp and stretches. “I don’t know how to relax,” he says. It isn’t a complaint, but the truth.

In all actuality, as Jimmy knows, Curly is a tightly wound ball of anxiety. During their more intimate moments when there weren’t eyes and ears trained on them, Curly has said so himself.

Only the cockpit and sleeping chambers lack cameras. Jimmy swivels his chair, now facing the door.

“I can help you relax,” Jimmy says, turning his thoughts over in his head. “If you’ll let me, that is. If you won’t shy away like you always do. If you won’t deny me like you did when we were shitty hormonal teenagers.”

Curly’s face flares pink.

[miss-starlet]

♡Pet Play W/ Channie♡

(Photo found on Pinterest)

Pet Play Headcanons for Channie (giving & receiving)

Note: Trying to follow the poll results, so next up should be Minho (Lee Know).

Warnings: Light Degradation (Receiving part), Punishments (Giving & Receiving part), Thigh Humping (Receiving part), fingering (Giving part), feet?(Receiving part), Collars (Receiving & Giving part)

Word Count: 800+

18+MDNI

Puppy Channie (Receiving):

♡ He is a good boy through and through! Very obedient and he just loves (more like gets off on) being praised by you. Hardly ever has to be punished.

♡ When he does need a punishment, a good spanking will do. He takes it so well. He doesn't whine about it, and tries his hardest not to squirm in your hold. Make sure to praise him for taking it all so well.

♡ He loves playing with you and his squeak toys. Toss them across the room, and he'll eagerly scamper on all fours to catch them. Once he's got the toy, he'll drop it in your lap, looking up at you with those big puppy eyes. He might even rub his head and those cute dog ears against your inner thighs, seeking pets and attention.

♡ He’d act all blushy and embarrassed when you finally play with him. Makes the cutest sounds when pinch his nipples (poor baby's chest is sensitive) or when you lick his tip.

♡ Unlike some of the other members, Channie would only want one collar. He loves how it's the symbol of your ownership over him.

♡ When he sits in your lap, he can't stop himself from rutting on your thigh (even when he knows he will be punished for it). The poor baby just can't help himself :( Your soft skin feels so good on his cock, and he always cums the hardest when you degrade him for being such a dirty mutt in heat.

~♡~

"Channie, my little puppy" You coo out. In a second, Chan runs into the room and drops down on his knees. His hands coming up.

He slightly pouted, rubbing his head against your thighs. "What is it puppy? You asked, gently petting Chan's curly hair.

"I-I want," he whines out.

"Want what baby?" Your foot presses down on his bulge softly. Chan head come forward to rest onto your legs, panting loud."You, n-need you."

"Yeah? My puppy needs me?" You slowly press your foot down harder. Chans nods, his eyes close and hips buck, wanting more.

"Be a good boy and open your mouth for me." He opens his mouth, placing two of your fingers in his mouth. You pressed them down on his tongue. His eyes closed, covering your hand and his chin in drool.

"Good boy."

Owner Chan (Giving):

♡ Not the biggest fan of titles such as master or owner. He likes it better when you call him sir or daddy. However if you do call him owner when he is in a mean mood 😏

♡ The way this man loves to make soft cooing noises when you do anything he likes. He finds his pet so cute! For instance when he asks you to come get your treat and you take his cock in your mouth all so well, he will coo out "such a good pet, doing so good for me."

♡ He isn't strict, and only has a few rules he wants you to follow. Some of them are make sure you are taking care of yourself and staying healthy. A big softie with you when you follow all of his rules.

♡ He has bought you two collars. One is a day collar that he likes you to wear on days you are out of the house (If you are comfy of course!). The other collar is the one you wear when it's just you and him. He loves the symbol both of them have.

♡ The punishments he gives you depend on what rules you broke. If it's more serious, like playing without his permission, he will make you cum over and over again, bc y'know better then him. If you wanted to cum so bad, then you can, and you will keep cumming until he thinks you had enough. But please be good for him, he just wants to spoil you and treat you softly.

~♡~

Chan had a rough day at work and he just wanted to go home and play with his little pet. In-between his meeting he sent you a message that he wanted you dolled up for him by the time he got home.

When he walked into the bedroom, he sees you exactly the way he wanted you; sitting on the bed, starked naked, and all dolled up for him. The thin leather collar adorning your neck, with soft ears sitting on top of your head. He just couldn't help but coo at you, you were too cute!

"Such a cute bunny, you are going to be good for daddy right?"

The floppy bunny ears moved as you move your head moved up and down nodding. Dropping to his knees, he grabs your thighs, pushing them open. Trailing kisses up them, starting from your knee and moving up so close to were you want him, before flipping you over.

You gasped eyes widening from being manhandled. You turn your head to the side to look at him. "Please, daddy"

"Don't worry, daddy's got you bunny." Chan said as he sticks his index and middle finger in you. You moan softly, grinding down on his fingers. He starts to move them slow before working them to a fast pace.

Once you moan out for more, he slows them down to add to your pleasure by adding another finger and slightly curl them.

"Yeah, daddy's got you pet."

[vukovich]

24K9

A daily(?) kinktober Tumblr fic. Will post to AO3 on American Thanksgiving, 2023.

Harry is a K9 unit Auror. Draco is the Ministry Kennelmaster. How could that possibly lead to anything?

Tags: collaring, top Draco, sensual pet play, touch starved Harry, bathing, shaving, rescue dog feels, other tags TBA, maybe dark draco ending?, maybe werewolves?, definitely coming untouched though, just blasting rope man

--

Chapter One

“I assure you, Auror Potter,” drawled the Patronus, speaking even before it found its full form, “there is nothing wrong with your partner.”

Malfoy’s tone was patronising, as though he were telling Harry that the monsters under his bed weren’t real, and to go back to sleep.

Next to Harry’s desk, his ‘partner’ had managed to catch his tail and was currently gnawing on it with nothing short of ardour.  K9 Auror Wurst, aka RottWurst, clamped down on his fluffy tail so hard, Harry swore he heard a crunch.

The bright fog condensed into a direwolf the size of a modest pony.  It was the perfect symbol for Draco Malfoy.  A pale, leggy, sharp-toothed relic of another time.

“And I assure you,” Harry spat, “Kennelmaster Malfoy, that this mutt’s fucking touched in the head.”

The mutt in question was eighty-plus pounds of Rottweiler-poodle abomination.  He looked like a St Bernard had dug into an avalanche, missed the humans, and hit a thousand-volt power line instead.  The curly white fur on his belly was caked with mud, and his brown muzzle still had bits of grass clippings on it.  The rest of him was black, save his brown eyebrows and speckled ears.

“He keeps alerting to sex magic, not dark magic.  It’s fucking embarrassing.  Dragged me across Hyde Park.  I had to use a Confundus on him to get him back to the office.”

The direwolf was so still that Harry blinked twice to make sure the shape wasn’t burned into his retinas.  It was a bloody showboat of a Patronus.

It was so bright that it brought out the dinginess of Harry’s office.  The yellow carpet had a pale brown trail between the door and Harry’s desk chair.  The corners of the ceiling had cobwebs, and the baseboards held an unhealthy amount of dust.

The fresh dog piss on the floor didn’t help things.

“I mean, he’s not worthless,” Harry added.  “But Robards said he can’t reassign him to Vice.  That he doesn’t have that authority.  So it must be you who has to do it.”

It was a little risky to bypass Robards the way he had, contacting Malfoy directly.  He probably should have made an appointment with his assistant or something.

But he’d been angry, so he’d pulled an interdepartmental priority Howler out of his desk and sent it.

There was probably a DMLE protocol for contacting a member of the Wizengamot.  There was a DMLE protocol for everything but wiping his arse.  Actually, they probably had one for that, too.

Harry blinked again.  His eyes were dry.  He was on hour seven of a twelve-hour shift.  After this, he’d get another coffee.

The direwolf shifted its weight, then leaned back, hindquarters high, in a deep stretch.  Its paws spread out in front of it.

Harry wondered if Malfoy was actually stretching.  And what that might look like.

It’d been years since he’d seen Malfoy in person.  Just in the papers, and only in the background of Wizengamot photos.  He’d been called to his Wizengamot seat the day after his thirtieth birthday, having met the minimum age.  They hadn’t called Hermione to hers until she was thirty-two.  She’d die mad about that.

The direwolf laid down, then yawned.

Harry yawned.

Wurst yawned.  Then farted.

Harry thought to check the time.  2:30 AM, according to his wristwatch.  He’d been on the clock for fourteen hours.  Not seven.

“Shit,” Harry said.

He’d woken a member of the Wizengamot at 2:30 AM.  And an important one.  

The direwolf sighed and tucked its muzzle under its paw.  Harry held his breath.  Maybe Malfoy would fall asleep.

Maybe he’d doze off, and he’d think he dreamt he got a Howler in the middle of the night from a burnout beat cop at least six rungs below him.  Maybe.

The direwolf sighed again, then drifted away like will-o'-the-wisps on the wind.

Maybe Malfoy wouldn’t report this.

Maybe.

Maybe Robards wouldn’t kill him.

He drummed his fingers on his desk.  If he did get written up, it’d be his sixth this year.  Two of them were for failing to meet dress code, but the shaving regulations were stupid, and the hygiene one was just weird.

Still.  

Wurst looked at him.  He looked at Wurst.

Nothing would happen.  His talk with Malfoy had only lasted a few seconds.  He’d think it was a dream.

It would be fine.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry told Wurst, ignoring the sweat on his palms.

Wurst’s nostrils flared, and then an ivory envelope slid under the door.  It sat on the grimy carpet for a moment, then folded itself into a swan.  With a few wingbeats, it landed on Harry’s desk and unfolded itself.

Inside was a business card.

Draco L Malfoy Wizengamot Member, Kennelmaster Warminster BA13 4SH UK

“Shit,” Harry said.

He flipped the card over.  On the back was an appointment date and time.  Tomorrow.

“Fuck.”

Robards was going to kill him.

--

[b1mbodoll]

1 im literally in love w you and your brain marry me rfn tf???

2 bull hybrid!hoon omggg >>>

soo now im curious to know ,,, if you had to make every enhypen hyung line member a hybrid what animal do you think they would be

- 🫧 <33

pairings: en- hyungline x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + exhibitionism + dry humping + knotting + himbo! hoonie + size kink + barbed cock! jay + thigh humping + scent kink + jealousy

💌: im in love with u too lets kiss and get married :3 ‘m so glad u liked bull! hoon im goin to press a tender kiss to ur forehead before u go to sleep tn

heeseung is def lamb or bunny hybrid !! he’s so pretty n dainty but quite literally the definition of wolf in sheep’s clothing. he’s so good at making you think he’s an innocent lil thing until he sneaks into ur bed at night n humps ur thigh til his cum seeps into ur pjs ^^ has the cutest pair of fluffy ears n his hair gets soso curly when he sweats while fucking you

jay is an exotic feline hybrid. probably smth like a snow leopard or black panther!!!!! has a long heavy tail, round little ears and the biggest n sharpest pair of canines. his eyes r so sharp n its so easy for him to pin you down with just one look before making his way over to you n draping himself over ur body as he fucks his barbed cock into u n omg ur kitty is the loudest evr his noises r like yowls and hisses !!

jake is def a canine !! i see him as a wolf hybrid thats so exciteable like a lil house puppy but when he smells u ovulating its like all hell broke loose bc he cant stop growling and snarling at other hybrids :( attacks one of the wolf boys you foster bc according to him “the dumb mutt can’t keep his hands to himself” jakey luvs how his knot keeps the two of u soso close !! kisses ur lips and bites at ur throat til his cock softens n his cum leaks out of ur pussy

i wrote bull! hoon n cant get the thought out of my head!!!!!!! he’s so beeg n strong n beefy n sexy but also a little bit of an airhead 😵‍💫 does most thinking with his cock bc he cant get enough of you !!!!!! it doesnt matter where u r or whos around bc he bends you over regardless!!!! fucks you over n over n if a lil moo slips out of him dont bring it up :x he gets so embarrassed

[glennquackmire]

My hunger games au lore that im acting so odd over because I keep getting flashbacks to the other post

Ik i said I would make this into a video but it was getting to like 10 minutes long 😭 so here's a really shortened version of some of it OK SO

-The curtis brothers live in DISTRICT 7 instead because I like the idea of them being lumberjacks it's funny and also because the Curtises knowing alot about plants and trees and stuff is kind of relevant

-Their parents died in an altercation with some peacekeepers. Is that still lazy?? Yea but hopefully not as lazy

-Ponyboy still genuinely believes Darry sees him as a burden and despises him so he is under the impression that Darry is going to try and kill him the second they get into that arena so naturally he tries to get as far away from him as possible for most of the games.

-instead dally and johnny are from district 12 which I THINK fits better for them??? Johnny still has the same kind of schtick as in the original post where he believe he doesn't have a shot at winning which he's not really coping well with, but dally I kind of changed its not that he thinks he can or can't win its more that he doesn't want to. He's super mad the two of them have been put into this situation and doesn't want to conform to the opressive system the capitol has put in place to keep the district peoples lives being used as entertainment I guess. But I don't really know if it's in a "i want to start a revolution" way or not I guess.

-Tim I mostly added because I like him.I'm a tim stan. He's from district 8 for the same reason the curtis brothers are from district 7, I like the idea of him being really good at sewing. I'm still on the fence on whether I wanna add Angela or Curly as tributes too but as it stands tim is the only one that has been reaped out if the three of them. He's really desperate to get back for this reason because he knows without him his siblings would be left on their own. He's also really really smart in this au so he makes it super far into the games.

-The socs respectively are from Districts 1, 2 and 4 because them being the careers makes sense to me. Like the advantages that the careers have in the games just kind of aligns with the advantages the socs have in LIFE. Does that make sense????? Idk I might be talking out of my ass here 😭. The combinations of the socs have changed around alot but I keep going back to Randy and Marcia in 1, Cherry and Bob in 2 and Paul and Beverly (from the musical !! Its so good go listen to it) in 4.

-Steve and Twobit I added because I think they're a funny duo and they're from district 6 (get it cause it's the transportation district). I really don't have much to say about them honestly I have a little bit so if u wanna hear about them let me know !! Originally it was gonna be sodapop and Steve but I couldn't find a way for it to make sense. Maybe I'll add him in and say he's not related to darry and ponyboy or something I don't know. I hate leaving him out though ily soda.

-Scout is still here (hi scout) but she's used as a bit of a plot device now lol

-the arena is a huge forest, but its also got some really mountainous areas

-there IS mutts now but they're let loose about 2 thirds of the way through and aren't around for very long. The fire is still there as well because mostly i just enjoy drawing fire.

-I think (?) That's everything, I'll keep the deaths and the other stuff that happens in the arena for another post because this is already kind of long I think

-if you want to hear more you can totally message me !! I love talking to people or u can use the ask box I would literally love either of these but obviously no pressure 😭

-I have a BUNCH of drawings done for this au like so many

Anyway I think the moral of the story is not being a good writer and 3 days of being awake are not a good combo lol

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - Make Believe Adventures (repost from my dA Missluckychan22)

Tessa, who was now 11, sat mournfully looking at the foggy day through her window. She was being punished for speaking up at breakfast about how she didn't want to practice ballroom dancing. The girl laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"You can come out of your room at dinner time, young lady!", the words of James Elliott, the girl's strict father, rang through her head.

Serial Designation J, Tessa's very first worker drone friend sat beside her on the bed. The silver ponytailed robot woman reassured, "Look, I know it's bad but, the day will go by,"

The second fixed one, a sweet little butler named N who had curly white hair responded, "Yeah, we could always play Rummy."

"GIN Rummy," J corrected to N, holding back slugging the littler guy in the shoulder for Tessa's sake.

Tessa sighed and hugged her pillow as she looked out her bedroom window. "I want to go on an adventure, I want to sword fight and explore and do something instead of being trapped in this god-awful prison."

J laughed a little at her thought. "No, that's silly,"

"What is it, J?" Tessa inquired, her eyes full of interest in what her favourite girl worker drone was thinking.

J relinquished her thought for the inquisitive Tessa, relaxing her shoulders as she suggested, "Remember that game we used to play when you were 9 right after you fixed me up?" J knew it was silly, however, if Tessa was interested in what her idea could be, then it was all the more worth it now that she told the girl she admired.

"The Princess and the Mage?" the young Elliot family woman exclaimed, trying not to be loud enough for her parents to hear, "I used to love that game!"

N had heard about this game but he never got to play, he eagerly trilled, "Could I play too? I really would wanna join."

"Maybe if we needed a villain…" J teased.

Tessa shook her head and giggled, "Nooo, not a villain, but a prince! A prince captured by a wicked witch!"

Just then, the newest robot Tessa had repaired after her parents destroyed it, a pretty little robot maid with glasses, came in with Tessa's noon tea and biscuits. The bobbed haired drone greeted politely, "Your noon tea, Miss Elliot."

Tessa piped up as she got off the bed and held V's skirt ever so gently to get the robot's attention, "Please, V, could you join me and my friends for a game?"

V looked to N, her LED display showing little white light blush marks before agreeing to play.

Tessa let out a little squeal of delight and stated, "For real life? Thank you, V! I need you to climb ontop of the wardrobe with N, and I want you to pretend to be a witch who kidnapped a prince."

N helped get the chair from Tessa's vanity desk and put it infront of the large wardrobe cabinet. He giggled, "After you, my lady," as he held his hand out to V.

The sweet bespectacled maid took his hand and hopped up onto the chair before laying down on her stomach attop the furniture where N soon joined her. V had read a lot of fairytales in the library with N, and she was familiar with the role of a witch. She took a decorative spoon she kept with her and held it like a makeshift wand. The little maid cackled and called down to Tessa and J, "Helloooo my pretties! I have kidnapped your precious prince! And if you want to save him from me turning him into a dog, you'll save him before sunset tonight!"

N laughed and recounted, "Ooh, good one, V!" before doing his best Shakespearian themed voice and recounting, "Alas, oh Princess Tessa, fairest of them all, dost thou wisheth to save me from becoming a common mutt? I shall wait for thee atop the highest tower in the land." ---------------------------------------

The forest was filled with song birds and sunlight, the two friends, a mage and her princess protege rode on the back of a stunning white horse down the forest path.

"I think you should maybe think of saving another prince, my liege," Lady Jay of Umbridge scorned as she rolled her eyes at the princess with the flowing ebony hair.

The lionhearted Princess Tessa Elliot of Manorwood insisted as they rode out of the forest path and into the emerald glenn, "It wouldn't right of me to let him be turned into a dog, he has a throne to return to, as do we. So let us make haste!" The two women rode towards the edge of the valley, towards a dark forest with cawing crows and rolling fog. The horse began to buck and bray, horrified of the dark woods, causing the two to dismount the creature.

"You won't come with us, will you, girl?" Tessa bargained with the ivory coloured mare.

Lady Jay, sighing in annoyance, waved her hands and summoned forth a bunch of fresh garden carrots, shaking one in front of the horse. "Come on, you wouldn't want the orcs to come and turn tho into glue and a meal, woulds't thou?"

The horse brayed arrogantly at the silver-haired mechanical mage, and began galloping to find another way through the dark woods.

"Guess we are on our own, huh, Jay?" the Princess stated before optimistically calling out, drawing a sword out of the scabbard, "Well then, we must press on, we must make it to the tower through the woods."

The two headed, now on foot into the foggy and dark woods. The eerie forest sounds grew louder as they continued on. The two were stopped as they heard wild cackling.

From a small clearing, with thunderbolts and lightning appearing from the skies above, was the vile and wicked witch simply known as Vendetta. The wild eyed witch shot a lightning bolt straight at Tessa, she leapt clear of the blow. "You may be spritely, dearie, but I am more than a one trick pony!" Vendetta laughed as she commanded a tree to come to life before she flew away on a broom stick while calling out, "Good luck, dearies!"

Princess Tessa brandished her sword, standing infront of the towering, monsterous cyprus.

Jay, waited in the wings, she knew what she would need to do, she just had to do like they practiced.

The Princess, despite being in a dress, effortly dodged the swipes at her by the creature as she swung at it, cleaving off the tendril-like branches with her broadsword.

The tree creature reached down and swiped up the Princess before letting out a roar.

Lady Jay ran full tilt at the tree, holding in her hands a single piece of coal. She ran her thumbs across the carbony rock, causing it to ignite. "See you in Hell, foul beast!" the silver haired mage screamed as she tossed the flaming rock at the Cyprus-Tree creature.

The creature dropped the princess in horror as it went up in flames, letting Tessa fall into the open arms of her lovely mage companion.

The two saw then the end of the storm and charged towards the glistening sunlight. At last, out of the scary forest! Princess Tessa saw as her horse came bounding from the edge of the trees towards her. Lady Jay scoffed with a laugh, "Your horse isn't very brave, Princess."

"That's alright, Jay," the princess reassured as she re-sheathed her sword for now, "But we most certainly are!" The two hopped back upon the steed and ventured closer to the ivory tower, hearing a charming man's voice singing from the room near the spire's top.

"It's the handsome and kind Prince Nathaniel!" Princess Tessa proclaimed as they rode closer to the tower.

The prince noticed the two women approaching on the horse, he called down, "Hello Princess Tessa of Manorwood and Lady Jay of Umbridge!"

Lady Jay mocked from the back of the horse, "If you really were a prince you'd get yourself down there."

Nathaniel sweetly replied, "Maybe if I had 20 years, 35 feet of hair and a pair of scissors."

Vendetta, who was also in the tower couldn't help but giggle at that reference and she bargained down to Princess Tessa, "Okay, tell you what, I won't turn the Prince into a dog, if you let me marry him."

Tessa raised an eyebrow and laughed, "Wait what?"

Lady Jay put her arm around the Princess and responded back rudely, "WELL THATS FINE, SHE DOESN'T NEED A STINKIN PRINCE! BUT I'M STILL GOING UP THERE AND KICKING YOUR ASS, WITCH!" she hopped off the white horse and started climbing with her barehands up the tower, insulting the witch every couple feet.

Tessa hopped off her horse and scolded, "Hang on, Lady Jay! You could fall!"

---------------------------------------

J was climbing up the bookshelf that stood next to the wardrobe.

V giggled as she took a stack of books and started throwing them at J.

Tessa called out, "WAIT!" in fright but it was too late, the sound of the books hitting the floor rang out in the room. She could hear her parents shouting from down the hall and the approaching sound of her father's shoes on the mahogany floors. She called to her robots, "Quick, grab a book and sit near my bed!"

Mr Elliot finally came into Tessa's room, he burst the door open and shouted, "I thought we told you, young-lady to…" he stopped his yelling as he looked on at the sight.

J was softly reading a book to Tessa while they sat on the bed.

N sat at the vanity chair that was now by Tessa's bed, pretending to read silently. V stood in the corner with a handful of books, smiling politely to Mr Elliot.

Tessa's father blinked in confusion before sighing and saying calmly, "Carry on," before walking out and closing the door.

The three robots and their best human friend waited silently until they no longer could hear the foot steps in the hall, and they all had a quiet laugh about it. Tessa pulled in N, V, and J for a group hug, giggling happily, "That was the greatest adventure yet, thank you, all of you."

V giggled, "How about another? We could be pirates?"

N did a silly pirate voice and called out, "Avast! Captain Tessa, let us find treasure across the seven seas!"

J put her arm around Tessa and teased happily, "And I could be your first mate?"

The 11 year-old Tessa nodded happily, and soon she and her robot friends were on another make-believe adventure to make it through the rest of the time until dinner.

The End

[mihamihoku]

SOOO. more dogs from that au x'd

Some explanations/thoughts and bonus sketches under the spoiler (sorry for my attempts to write smth adequate in english, I’m.. not good at it......)

Okay first, yeah I think there’d be mostly (pure-bred) dogs in the police forces, like those that people can use as working dogs. Y’know, german shepherds, malinois, mastiffs etc etc. But not only them xd

As for Takagi, I from the very beginning thought of him as a dog (ofc lol), but kinda uhh different, a type that feels somewhat too mumbling for being in police, but not really, and still very promising and honorable. Therefore, he’s a mutt (but partially a german shepherd, who could be one of his close relatives) and has this one floppy ear that make him look a little more young/cute, and some square-ish shapes in the face. His coat coloring has a lot from a GSD, particularly that dark saddle, but other markings, especially spotty-like ones on the paw and neck, and a light face show he’s mixed

Also a fun fact, those pointy markings on the corners of his eyes are referenced to John and Jerome from Ginga series xdd

Tbh decide with the breed for Shiratori was hard at first. Like, I knew I wanted to make him a pure-bred dog (bc he’s a rich guy and for contrast w/ Takagi), with chocolate-colored coat, that would have curly hair and that’s nOT a poodle :”D And there aren’t really many breeds with curly hair! At least those that could still be recognisable as him. So, in the end I had to choose between aforesaid poodle and irish water spaniel, and I chose the latter. Welp, at least we know he’s a good swimmer lol

Btw a white bird marking was an idea of my friend when we learned that Shiratori literally translates as “white bird”. Even though any white spots for IWS are forbidden by the standard, I think it suits him and it can be like his family feature <)

Sato was decided as beauceron when me and my friend searched for some breeds that could fit her appearance, could be used as a police dog, feeling both kind and intimidating if necessary. I think that this one, which is originally a herding dog, both gentle and fearless, fits her pretty well <)) Although I tried to give her a usual black-and-tan coat, it felt overall too dark, so she’s a harlequin now. Ears are cropped and probably by her own choice here, so it would be harder for culprits to injure/bite them off xd Maybe it’s even a common practice for military/police/etc dogs in this AU

I also thought of how would look Kobayashi-sensei then, since she and Sato look quite alike, and I guess she’d be either a cattle dog or a koolie (probably the latter)

Inspector Megure was probably the easiest to design, I had a rough idea for him in my head, like, since the time we just started watching DetCo <D The harder part was to find a breed that fits that idea, with sand-colored coat and dark face and ears, and bullmastiff is just like that

He’s not putting his hat off here too, yea hahah

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Part Of Your World ~ 3

PART OF YOUR WORLD MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,357ish

Summary: You break the surface and see a face that you’ll never forget.

Notes: Finally, after two years, I had inspiration to update this. Hope y’all enjoy!

Over the next few months, you would sneak out of the confines of the palace and go to Shipwreck Cove. Natasha and Clint would join you when they could, helping you collect trinkets from the wrecks and take them to your grotto. Your grotto was filled with all sorts of objects that you could only guess what they were used for.

One night, you were out late. You knew that you were pushing it, especially because you were alone. You were in your grotto, placing new items on the rock shelves and reorganizing where some of the items were placed. The full moon was shining brightly into the calm water, allowing you to see so clearly. You looked up, longing to swim up to the surface. Not too far away, you noticed a large, dark object coming closer along the surface of the water.

“What father doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you whispered to yourself before you swam up to the surface.

You gasped when you broke the surface, feeling a little chill due to the air. You looked over to where you had seen the dark object and noticed that there was a large ship there. Curious, you swam closer. You noticed that the ship was made out of wood, with some of the wood sticking out enough for you to grab on. There was a larger hole near the top that would allow you to see the commotion you could hear coming from the ship. You climbed the side of the ship, finding a good place to balance yourself before peering onto the deck.

There were humans talking and dancing about, men and women. They seemed happy, like they were celebrating something. There were three men playing music and an interesting four legged animal running around the people. You watched as the animal began sniffing the floorboards, heading towards you. Before you knew it, the animal was in front of you, licking your face. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, quickly stifling it before anyone could notice.

“Alpine!” A man called. The animal looked toward the man. “Alpine, here boy!”

The animal ran to the man, jumping up and barking. Your breathe caught in your throat as you got a look at the man. He was gorgeous. His black hair was slightly shagging, but not much. His eyes were the most wonderful shade of blue, matching the ocean. He was tall and built well.

You had never see a human like this. Actually, you had never seen humans at all with your own eyes. You watched as the man stood there with the animal, who kept barking at him.

“Hey, come on, mutt,” the man joked to the animal. “What’s got into, huh, Alpine?” The animal barked again and turned toward where you were. You quickly hid from view. “Is something over there, boy?” The animal barked and went over to the opening. The man followed. “There’s nothing here, boy.”

“Silence! Silence!” A large blonde man shouted for everyone’s attention. The humans quickly grew silent. “It is now my honor and privilege to present Prince James—“

“Come on, Steve,” the man who caught your eye interrupted. “We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

“Right, sorry, Bucky. It is my privilege to present Bucky with this present from the court.” Steve motioned to a large, covered object in the center of the ship. “Happy birthday, pal.”

Steve pulled the cover from the object, revealing a large, gaudy statue of Bucky. He was holding a sword and stepping on top of what seemed to be a royal crest.

“Gee, Steve,” Bucky muttered. “It’s, err, it’s—it’s really somethin’.”

“Yeah, the court had it commissioned,” Steve stated. He seemed to not like it very much. “They had hoped it would be a wedding present, but—“

“Aw, come on, Steve, don’t start that again. It’s my birthday. You can’t still be sore because I didn’t fall for the princess of Wakanda, are you?”

“Bucky,” a woman with curly brown hair stepped up beside Steve, “the entire kingdom wants to see you happily settled down. We want to see that happen.”

Bucky sighed as he sat down on the railing of the ship, looking out to sea. “Well, she’s out there somewhere. Just haven’t found her yet.”

“Maybe you’re being too picky,” Steve suggested, only to be quickly jabbed in the side by the woman’s elbow.

“I will know her when I find her. Without a doubt. It’ll hit me, like lightning.”

Thunder sounded without warning as the winds picked up. You looked at the sky to see large, dark clouds rolling in quick. Lightning flashed through the sky before the sound of thunder. And then came the rain.

“Hurricane a’commin’!” A man frantically shouted. “Stand fast! Secure the riggin’!”

You watched as everyone raced to a place to secure the sails or down below the boat. The waves grew larger and larger, causing the boat to rock. It didn’t take long for you to lose your grip on the boat and go flying into the water. You swam back up to the surface in time to see lightning hit the sail, catching it on fire. The fire quickly spread down the large wood pole and onto the deck. Those on the boat rushed to the smaller boats attached to the side of the ship. Because the people were too worried about getting off the ship, they didn’t noticed the large rock in their path. The ship crashed into the rock, causing those not in the life boats yet to go flying off.

You were in shock, not knowing how to help or even if to help. Looking around, you tried to find the beautiful human named Bucky.

“Bucky!” Steve yelled from one of the smaller boats.

You followed where he was looking to see that Bucky was still on the boat, with the furry animal in his arms.

“Here!” Bucky shouted, tossing the animal down to Steve.

Before Bucky could jump, the ship exploded. You ducked down into the water to avoid being hit by the flying pieces of ship. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Bucky in the water, trying to swim to the top. You rushed over, not caring if he saw you.

~~~

Bucky was struggling to swim up to the surface due to how heavy his boots were. Suddenly, you were in front of him. His eyes quickly scanned you. He almost gasped because of two things: how beautiful you were and that you were a mermaid. You looped your arms around his and began swimming him up to the surface. Bucky gasped for breath as he broke the water. He looked around frantically for you but couldn’t see you. Before he knew it, Steve was pulling him out of the water and onto one of the life boats.

“She—where is she?” Bucky stammered.

“Where is who?” Steve wondered.

“The girl… The one who saved me.”

“No one saved you, Bucky.”

“Yes, someone did! She was a—“ Bucky stopped himself. He knew the implications if he said he saw a mermaid. He would either be declared as crazy or the whole kingdom would be hunting mermaids.

“She was a, what?” Peggy probed.

“Nevermind.”

Peggy and Steve eyed each other with both confusion and curiosity. Bucky’s eyes stayed glued onto the water as they began to row away.

~~~

Once you knew that Bucky was going to be okay, you had swam away to a safer distance. You watched from behind some floating pieces of the ship as Bucky was rowed away. There was something inside of you screaming to follow him. You wished that you could. You knew though that you had to get back before your father realized that you were gone.

You swam off, not realizing that someone was watching her from below. Wanda’s lips curled into a smile as a plan formed in her head. She had waited thirteen long years for a way to get to you and she was sure that she finally had it.

“Don’t worry, boys,” she whispered to herself. “Mommy’s almost fixed this.”

next chapter >

TAGLIST IS CLOSED - Taglist Information

[starlightsearches]

Hysteria was so good omfg….. so good in fact it could be a lil series 👀 Would you consider doing a part 2 please? If not, that’s okay!! :)

Hysteria pt. 2

Part 1 Here

Thank you so much, my love!! I really hoped that this would just be a two-parter, but what i have here has already taken me AGES and i wanted to give the final smut all the attention it deserved. let me know what you think pwease!!

Eddie Munson x Femme Cheerleader! Reader

Requests are always open! Comments and reblogs make my day 💖

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, RC is not a nice person, Eddie is also not nice but RC probably deserves it, infidelity, a very bad relationship between RC and her boyfriend, lots of mentions of fucking but no sex in this part, some delicious fucking ANGST!!!!, threats of violence and drama, bad bitches having a hard time talking about their feelings, you'll probably want to read the other part first but i'm not a cop.

You should not be staring at Eddie Munson. Especially not in the middle of the cafeteria. 

But you can't take your eyes off of him. Not because of the way his frizzy hair catches the light like a halo, or how he's smiling wide enough that you can see his dimples from the other side of the room, torso stretched long over the edge of the table. It's not because you know how the little hollow spaces around his mouth feel against your skin.

It's what he's got caught between his fingers that has you tripping over your feet to get to him.

A shiny white polaroid picture.

Somebody was talking to you—one of the girls from the squad blabbing in your ear about fuck all as you step into the crowded lunch room. You don't even mumble out an excuse, pushing past the bodies in your way, ignoring the glares that follow you all the way to the freak table.

"Give me that."

Eddie's passed the photo to one of his friends, and that's who you snatch it from. He's a freshman, clearly, with a mop of curly brown hair covered in a dorky looking baseball cap. He lets out a soft cry of protest; you silence him with a look.

But you're not in the photo. Nobody is in the photo. 

You were expecting something explicit—expected to see your own fucked-out body spread on his sheets, his rings glinting where they laid against your cheek and his spit smeared across the insides of your thighs. You expected a picture that would have you dripping through the cotton panties you were wearing. You were expecting some kind of thrill to know that Eddie had been looking at it where anybody could see it. 

So the reality is a little jarring. 

It's a polaroid of a fucking dog.

Not even a cute dog—a little mutt, laying on its belly in the dry grass, washed out in the bright sun. A waste of fucking film, if you didn’t know what it was really for. 

Your mouth presses into a tight line, lips pinched between your teeth, and you keep your gaze down, unsure what will happen if you look Eddie in the eyes when you’re feeling so insane. 

Now is not the time to laugh so hard you’d snort, or rip his throat out with your teeth for getting under your skin. Now is not the time to fall all over him like you’ve been fucking craving. 

None of the boys at the table are brave enough to make a sound when you look up—not even Eddie, although he wears quite the grin.

It takes more than one deep breath before you feel safe enough to speak.

"Cute, Munson,” you deflect, popping a hip as you flip the photo back in his direction, “I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

"Don't worry, princess,” he smiles, cocky as all hell, “we're not exclusive."

Somebody laughs. It’s a high-pitched, nervous little giggle that sticks out amid all the heavy silence of listening ears. Eddie leans back in his seat, hands cupped behind his head the same way he had the night you went to his trailer. Echoes of the same shivers he’d pulled from you brush across your skin. 

You want to say something biting. You open your mouth, ready for it, and nothing comes out. Eddie's shirt has ridden up a little, a thin sliver of pale skin revealed beneath his black t-shirt. Maybe even the edge of a tattoo.

Fuck.

He sees where you're staring. He could call attention to it, if he wanted—people at the nearby tables are all waiting to watch shit go down—but Eddie doesn't say anything. His cheeks grow a little pinker.

"What's going on, baby?"

Double fuck.

Connor’s here. You feel his thick arm squeezing possessively around your waist, tightening like a snake sizing up its meal. Your whole body goes still. 

“Hey, babe.”

Your boyfriend smiles in a way he probably thinks is charming, and one meaty finger steers your head in his direction. You're given no warning before his tongue is in your mouth, cracked lips brushing clumsily over yours.

Fuck. Fuck. A millions times fuck.

You slip your hands behind his head, out of view. You don't want anybody to notice the way your fingers curl into fists, nails digging against your palms as you count down the seconds until he stops touching you—pretending to kiss him back and pretending to like it even as your throat and stomach burn. 

Eddie’s noticed. You can tell the second you look at him, his brows divoted towards each other, gaze twitching between your tightly-balled fists and Connor’s sneer. 

“What’re you doing talking to these pricks, babe?” Connor asks you, totally ignoring Eddie and his friends. You shouldn’t roll your eyes at him—shouldn’t make it obvious that you’re growing a little tired of the prom king attitude—so you freeze your expression like plasticine, and keep all the hate on the inside. 

You hand him the polaroid between your fingers, put on a bitchy exterior that doesn’t look much different from your normal exterior. 

“Eddie was just showing us all his new girlfriend.”

Connor squints at the photo, huffing a dumb little laugh from between his lips. You’ve set him up for about a thousand good punchlines. Of course he goes for the most obvious. 

“Finally found a bitch who’s willing to fuck you?” Connor asks, tossing the picture at Eddie.

It smacks against his chest before falling pathetically to the floor; Eddie doesn’t move an inch, eyes on the ceiling, jaw tight. But everybody hears him when he mutters, “not the only bitch.” 

Then his gaze slides to you.

Oh. fucking. shitting. bitchfuck. The surrounding tables go silent, and then burst into activity, filling the room with little murmurs. You watch the stunned looks change, realization blinking on expressions like a string of Christmas lights, feeling every pair of eyes crawling over your skin.

Connor’s breath is hot and heavy in your ear, and he explodes in a rush of movement, gripping the collar of Eddie’s jacket in both meaty fists.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“Connor! Jesus.”

He shrugs you off where you grab at him, his elbow hitting hard enough in your chest that you fall back a few steps. You rub at the spot with your palm, forced to watch like everybody else.

And even though Connor’s got him in a grip tough enough to keep his feet off the ground, it takes Eddie a generous second to rip his eyes from you. 

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, freak,” Connor spits right in his face, “or what kind of shit you’ve been smoking, but you better watch it. ‘Cause there’s no way a girl like mine would ever want a greasy little prick like you within a mile of her.” 

And Eddie could ruin everything for you in this one shining second. You can almost see it—the smirk of his lips as he tells Connor, tells everyone, about how he made you fucking scream for him, how you begged on hands and knees for the freak of Hawkins to fuck you, and how he refused.

But he doesn't. And, to his credit, Eddie's hardly phased by Connor’s random outburst. He keeps his face neutral, raising his hands in surrender.

“Hey man, listen—I didn’t mean anything by it,” Eddie tells him, and it’s only a little bitchy, “promise.”  

The cafeteria wouldn’t be quieter if it were empty, all eyes on the freak table and your boyfriend and the guy you can’t stop thinking about fucking. 

After a tense second, Connor’s grip loosens on Eddie’s jacket. Maybe he believes what Eddie told him. Or maybe he’s just remembered that if he got suspended again, coach would bench him for the rest of the season. 

“Stay away from her, got it?”—he steps away with a final threat—“or I’ll bash your fucking head in.” 

Connor yanks you away with a hand at your bicep, and your fingers are numb when they curve around his jacket sleeve. It’s like he hardly feels you there, all deep, heavy breaths and poisonous stares back over his shoulder. You want to look back, too. But you know better.

“I’m gonna kill that fucking freak, swear to god,” he tells you.

And he means it. 

You skip fifth period. 

Nobody even looks your way when you push past the clanky metal doors into the pale sunshine, probably passively assuming you’re on your way to hotbox in the parking lot or make out under the bleachers—which, to be fair, you’d done before. But you don’t stop walking when you reach any of your usual hiding spots, past the goal post at the far end of the football field and into the damp leaves beyond the tree line.

It’s quiet out here. Which only makes more room for your racing thoughts, rattling through the leaves and dead brush that soften your footsteps to an almost silence.

But you're not sure where you're headed. Guys talked about it all the time—the picnic table in the middle of the woods where Eddie did business—but none of them ever brought their girlfriends with them.

You thought it was because Eddie was a creep, that Connor was protecting you from his dealer’s lewd comments and stares when he left you alone in his Jeep every time he went to go buy. 

But the way he looked back in the cafeteria, how easy it was for him to grab at Eddie and how unphased Eddie had been by it all . . .

Maybe your safety wasn't even on Connor's radar.

Luckily, the journey to the table is a straight shot through the woods. One second there's nothing but green leaves and branches in every direction, and the next you're stepping on beer cans and candy bar wrappers at the edge of a clearing.

It's about as underwhelming as you pictured it. A dinky old picnic table in a sea of flattened, molding leaves. Piles of them lift beneath your shoes, releasing the smell of damp earth into the air with each step.

Might as well sit while you wait.

The slats dig into your ass, not that that matters. You'll sit here all night if you have to. You can peel the splinters from your cheeks later.

Your fingers run along the scratches on the table's surface, names in hearts and gossip from two, three years ago, maybe more—all overlapping and criss-crossing until you can't read any of them.

Except for one, near the edge. Eddie's name is carved deep with repeated wear, the lines black and thick enough to snag at your fingers when you trace at his clumsy scrawl.

Ugh, fuck him. This dickhead makes you cum one time (or more—whatever) and now he’s got you thinking in metaphors. 

The waiting doesn't take away any of your worry—just multiplies it, like you've got to make enough to fill all this empty space, have to send some of it back to Hawkins High and keep a cushion between Eddie and his obvious death wish.

Maybe Connor wouldn't beat the shit out of Eddie at school, but there were plenty of places he and his friends could corner a loner.

Places without witnesses. Places with a lot of beer and their own cheers multiplying off echoey walls.

Places where there'd be nothing to make them stop.

“I’m not gonna fuck you out here, if that’s what you were thinking.”

" Jesus,"—you jump, and a few more splinters implant themselves on your landing—"Eddie."

He's standing at the edge of the clearing like you summoned him—thought his name one too many times and he appeared by magic.

If that worked, though, he'd have showed up in your bedroom every night for the past week. And your shower. Maybe at least once during your math class.

"I would be kind of hot, though," he continues without meeting your eyes as he wanders over to the table, fidgeting with his rings. You swallow the lump in your throat when he curls his thick fingers under the table top, giving an experimental thrust of his hips.

Eddie wears a cool look when the table wobbles, metal supports groaning from the movement. "But I don't think she could take it."

"Eddie—"

It's like you hadn't said anything. He’s on a roll, rubbing a hand over the uneven stubble on his jaw, considering the options with his hip popped.

"I've always wanted to fuck someone on the edge of a table, though. Think your boyfriend would come looking for you out here?"

"Eddie."

A smirk blooms across his face. "What do you think he’d do if he found me balls deep in your pretty pussy?"

"Eddie—"—you slam your palm on the table, make him look you in the eyes—“stop.”

Whether you wanted him to or not, he listens. Maybe it's too bad. You were kind of hoping to hear more about the whole fucking on the edge of the table thing.

Eddie's arms cross over his chest, jaw jutting toward you.

You're stunned silent for a second. He's actually gonna stop talking long enough for you to speak.

"You- you can't pull shit like that again."

Eddie plops down into the seat across from you, hands clasped together, wearing this look of false innocence.

"To what shit are you referring?"

"Fuck, Eddie," you reach out for emphasis, "this is serious."

You're surprised by the feel of his hands—the soft heat of his skin and smooth contours of his veins—even though you're the one who reached for him, fingers slipping under the edge of his sleeve and circling his wrist.

His expression softens, big eyes getting bigger, pink tongue sandwiched between his lips. You're not even thinking about the way you felt the last time he had his tongue pressed to your skin. Just touching him like this has your heart pounding.

You slip your hand back, palm flat to the wood. "You can't antagonize Connor like that, okay? He's fucking crazy."

"Uh, I was trying to antagonize you. Your boyfriend showed up uninvited."

You want to laugh, but that would give him the wrong idea. "Well, you shouldn't be antagonizing me, either."

Eddie kicks his feet up onto the bench, hopping on the table top so he can lean in close. “Probably not, sweetheart. But have you ever thought maybe you shouldn’t have a boyfriend who’s, uh— I don’t know—fucking crazy?”

He tries so hard to look nonchalant, but you’re picking up on the signals. The shake in his hands and the twitching muscle in his jaw. 

Oh, god. He's fucking serious. As serious as you've ever seen Eddie get.

The breeze blowing through the clearing sets goosebumps across your arms. “I can handle Connor, okay? But you have to stay the fuck away from him.”

Eddie rests his chin on his hand, pursing his lips together. “What if I don’t, sweetheart? You gonna punish me?”

Jesus Christ, he’s stubborn. He’s a lot of other things, too, but you gotta focus on the stubbornness right now or you’re gonna end up bent over the table.

Eddie’s eyes go wide when you don't respond, hand dropping away from his face.

“Oh my god. Are you, like, actually worried about me?"

It’s the way he says it—like you weren’t even human to him until now, like he can hardly believe you’re capable of feeling anything but apathy or rage. 

And it shouldn't hurt. You didn't climb to the top of the social ladder of Hawkins High by caring what every dumbass guy whispered behind your back. Or what they said to your face.

You had skin like armor, and normally a comment like that wouldn't even make a dent.

So why do you feel like crying?

“Fuck you, Eddie.” 

You're up from the table before the look of surprise solidifies on Eddie’s face, already into the trees when he catches up with you. It doesn’t matter, anyways. He’s already seen it.

You care about Eddie. You care about the freak. And you don’t want to see him get hurt because of you.

“Hey—” Eddie catches you with a hand at your wrist, circling it in his big, warm grasp, “shit, don’t—”

You throw his hand off you, wild, too big for your body. “Don’t what, Eddie?”

You're just so fucking tired of this. Of thinking about him all the time. It's like you're drowning. Wanting Eddie Munson is going to kill you.

“Don’t-” he stares at the tips of your white Keds, digs his own shoes into the dirt, “don’t go back to him.”

“Yeah, okay,” you laugh at him, harsh and mean because maybe that’s who you are at your core. “And you and I can live out our Litte House on the Prarie shit here in the fucking woods? He’s gonna come looking for me, Eddie. He already wants to kill you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” 

You know what he meant. You can see it in his big, brown eyes, the way he’s fucking terrified to look at you. And he’s probably right to be, after everything you’ve done.

Whatever. Fuck this. Fuck your feelings and his pretty baby cow eyes and anything else that made you believe that things could be better.

“Did Tommy invite you to his party Friday?”

Eddie kicks a clump of leaves in your general direction. “I’m always invited to Tommy’s parties.”

That’s not true. You’re always invited to Tommy’s parties. Eddie’s always invited to deal. There's a difference.

You wrap your arms over your chest, fighting off the chill from a gust of wind that isn't there.

“Don’t go."

Jesus, you sound needy. Needy and weak.

Eddie scoffs. “Are you fucking serious? I make, like, a month’s worth of gas money selling to Tommy and his stupid friends—”

And would get the ever-living shit kicked out of him if Connor saw him there.

You stomp towards him, ending up chest to chest, your words coming out harsh through your teeth.

"I will buy you out."

Eddie's lips part with a soft pop, eyes tracing your face. You can't tell if he's offended that you've offered him money (which was kind of a dick move, if you’re being honest), his expression—normally so easily decodable—coolly masked.

Okay,” he says, pausing, like this is just some deal, "while we’re making demands . . . break up with your boyfriend.”

“Eddie . . .”

You can’t remember the last time you felt like this—throat tight and raw, barely balancing on the knife’s edge of tears. It’s been a long time since you’ve cried over a stupid, fucking boy.

You wish Eddie was just another stupid fucking boy. 

He shoves his hands deep in his pockets, staring up through the leaves. “Just- think about it, okay?” 

And he walks off without looking back. 

tagging: @dotslabyrinth