#turns out once you start drawing curls it is very hard to stop

[knavesflames]

transfem arle gagging us cause we being too loud while she destroys us??🥰🥰

Hi anon! The thought of that…. Oh…

Anyway, please enjoy☺️

Word count: 777

Contents: semi public sex..? In her office. Gagging you to keep you quiet.

[scheduled post]

Nsft utc!

Not once did you think you’d be sat on Arlecchino’s desk in the Fatui headquarters with your head buried in her shoulder, with her fingers buried in you. You’ve never been one for this, so why does it have you with a burning pit in your stomach? You can’t quite understand it, nor do you have any time to try to understand it when her fingers are curling inside of you every few seconds, drawing out mewls and whines without even properly trying.

“Be quiet.”

Her voice cuts through your thoughts like ice, her dark eyes piercing into yours. Of course you have to be quiet, there are people all over the fatui building, and the walls aren’t exactly soundproof. Soundproofing is the least of the Tsaritsa’s problems, very much more focused on reviving the third descender. Still, they protect you from others hearing your heavy breaths but you can’t count on the fact they protect you from much else.

Just as quickly as her words come out of her mouth, her fingers curl again. Despite her straight and unbothered face, she’s teasing you and you know it, the way her eyebrow quirks every time she hears a squelching sound coming from your cunt, the one that so greedily sucks in her fingers like it’s been starved. She finds that one spot inside of you, the one you know makes you unravel (she knew where it was, she didn’t need to find it, she was simply avoiding it), and a sound so dirty leaves your mouth that she finds herself rolling her eyes and sighing. She knew you couldn’t stay quiet. She loves it, really. It affects her in ways she’ll never tell you, how she’s throbbing and wants nothing more than to take you on the desk with the strap you love so much. But she cannot. Not today.

Her fingers pause in their ministrations, her frame moving from sat upright to bending down. She returns with something black and you recognise it immediately. The panties she practically ripped off of you earlier.

You wonder what on earth she’s doing holding those but—

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“You can’t be quiet, and I’m going to make you cum if it’s the last thing I do today. So, open your fucking mouth, doll.”

Something about her voice makes your jaw drop before your mind can even comprehend it, and the fabric is soon shoved into your mouth as a gag. She’s never done this before, gagged you. And yet, sitting on her desk at her mercy, unable to make a sound, sends shoots of electricity through you with every twitch of her fingers.

She eyes you for a few seconds, just watching. Waiting for any protest, a tap on her arm to say ‘stop, I don’t want this’. Nothing comes. You can almost swear her lips curl up in a smile, but it fades as quickly as it appears. Her fingers move again, harder, faster, and she attacks the spot inside of you relentlessly, not once leaving it or avoiding like she has been this entire time. For you, you’re practically screaming from how utterly good she makes you feel, but all that’s heard is the smallest of grunts, and barely even that.

Your hands clutch the desk harder, so hard, in fact, that your knuckles turn white and your nails leave crescents in the wood. Arlecchino will cherish that, you think, whether she says it or not. And she will. She’ll run her fingers over the dents when you’re not here. For now, though, her eyes don’t leave you for a millisecond, not when your eyes roll back and you begin twitching. Not when your hips start pathetically jumping up to gain more friction and her hand pushes you firmly down.

“Stay still. Good girl, nice and quiet. You look so pretty all gagged for me.”

Her whispers drive you further, and if you weren’t wearing shoes she’d see your toes curling as you unravel completely. Her eyes flit down almost imperceptibly, admiring the creamy ring formed around her fingers. Once she’s sure you’ve come down from your high, she pulls her fingers out with a pop and another squelch and pulls your underwear out of your mouth. You release them with a gasp, and then a breathless laugh. Arlecchino returns it with a small smirk of her own as you drag the now wet material up your legs, making yourself look presentable. When your hand turns the handle to leave, she speaks quietly, a hint of amusement only you can detect.

“Thank you for bringing my lunch, dear. I may have to forget more often.”

[zordanna]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

[muxshwriting]

my love, my life

Violet Bridgerton x daughter!reader, Bridgerton!reader

summary: Violet and her youngest, Y/N were mirror image. when you debut and fall in love, she faces the reality of letting you go || warnings: growing up, nostalgia, crying sessions when writing this|| word count: 705 || masterlist

Violet Bridgerton had nine children, four boys and five girls. Her youngest two, Hyacinth and Y/N, had surprised her by being twins. Neither of them would ever meet their father and Violet held them closer to her because of that fact. As a child, Hyacinth wanted to discover everything, see the whole house and the gardens and sometimes beyond. You, on the other hand, were perfectly content to curl up on your mother’s lap as she stitched, watching her work.

If anyone ever asked, Violet Bridgerton did not have a favourite child. She loved all her children equally was equally saddened when they, in turn, flew from the nest. But secretly, you were her favourite child, always willing to help your Mama and wanting to spend time with her. You were always content, never causing a fuss or making trouble for her to fix, unlike all your other siblings.

When you debut, you remain by your mother’s side, wary of this new experience. You spend your first season testing the waters of romance, charming suitors but not being interested in any fully. It’s on,y in your second year that you find yourself truly charmed.

Lord William Harding comes from a respectable and wealthy family but most importantly, he understands you. He will gladly spend an afternoon strolling through the park together, not saying a lot but occasionally pointing out something and telling a joke. He makes you feel warm and safe and that’s all you can ask for. It’s starts slowly until you realise that you crave his warming silence and his gentle conversation.

“I think I love him Mama.” The confession came as you were lying across your mother’s lap in the drawing room. Your book had been abandoned and Mama put down her embroidery to look at you.

“You think or you know?”

You meet her gaze, suddenly worried at the realisation. “I love him.”

Violet simply laughs at your concern. “Relax, my love. You have nothing to fear. I see how he looks at you.”

“What does that mean?”

“He loves you.” She says. “Whether he realises yet or not, he adores you.”

“Are you sure?”

Violet simply raises an eyebrow and smiles knowingly, continuing with her embroidery.

Your mother is all-knowing, especially after watching most of her children marry. William continues to court you, constantly looking at you with adoration. You confess your love to him as you dance together at your mother’s ball towards the end of the season and he reciprocates fully, imagining your future together and planning everything. Unbeknownst to you, he calls on your brother the very next day to ask for your hand in marriage. Anthony is well aware of your feelings towards William and gives his blessing willingly.

The time flies through your engagement until you're standing in front of your mother on your wedding day. You can't stop the tears gathering in your eyes as you look at her, knowing this is the final hurdle of your girlhood. Violet grasps your hands tightly in hers and pulls you close.

"You'll always be my daughter, no matter where you are."

"Mama-"

"It's alright to be afraid, it's alright to be unsure. That's love and life."

You dry your tears. "I want this so badly yet I am terrified of leaving you behind."

"I am not left behind." Violet says, convincing you more than she convinces herself. In truth, she is afraid of being left behind. All her children are now married, all will begin families of their own and she'll be reduced to the grandmother who is visited when it's convenient. It's only life, everyone grows up and grows away from their roots.

"I'll always need you." You promise her. Mama hugs you tightly once more before shooing you towards Anthony who was waiting for you by the entrance to the chapel. This was the end of your childhood, walking down the aisle on your brothers arm watching your mother follow behind you. He passing you to William and you find yourself perfectly at ease next to him.

"Take care of her."

"I swear to everything, I will."

Anthony nods once, taking his seat in the front row as the rest of your life begins.

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[nothomegal]

ITS CHRISTMAS EVE (or at least where I live bc timezones) and I would like to gove Pyramid Head smoochies under mistletoe pls 😌

Aww I was having this idea too! And since it's Christmas allow me to bless you with a drawing!...

...And a lilttle one-shot!

"Mistletoe"

(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Warning: suggestive implications by the end, but mostly fluff!

Word Count: 1k

Christmas was always a funny holiday for (Y/N). Either because they never truly felt connected to it or because they haven't felt the 'magic of Christmas' since childhood. Don't get me wrong, they would still put some decorations when they could, but ever since they came to Silent Hill such tradition was lost.

Not like they mind it too much though, they already have the absolute best gift and company they could ever ask for! Just tell me, who in their right mind would be upset about having a nearly 8ft tall demi-god creature as your forever partner? You have to be chronically insane to turn down such blessing!

And speaking of the creature, (Y/N)'s daydream was interrupted when a large hand curled around their arm and stopped them. They shoot a curious glance to their lover, who was already looking at whatever got his attention.

Right above them, placed on the old metallic door frame with, what they suppose is duct tape, were hangign a bunch of oddly shaped pieces of paper. Some pieces where green, others painted green, and all of them where kept together with a piece of damaged red cloth that was tied as a bow.

(Y/N) stares at that weird construction with furrowed brows, really trying to grasp what the hell they're looking at. Pyra was still as well, but his head tilted towards his human as he curiously observes their reaction. Seems like they too have no clue what is this-.

However, (Y/N) manages to make out the shape of it and instantly burst out laughing.

—"No way! No way someone actually made one!"— you say between laughs.

The beast simply observes them, letting out a low wondering rumble. Is that another pointless joke humans have? (Y/N) is laughing hard so it must be something very funny or very stupid.

After the laughter had ceased, (Y/N) takes a look at their monster and suddenly remember what he wanted in the first place. Oh, right. They were supposed to explain what is that.

—"Okay, okay."— you say between giggles as you point at the object. —"That thing over there is supposed to be a mistletoe. Remember when I told you about Christmas and how people decorate that one fuzzy tree? Well, this thing is also kinda a Christmas tradition. People hang it somewhere high and when two step or pass underneath it, they have to kiss."—

While (Y/N) explains, Pyra listens to them carefully. But the second they mention the kiss part, the air between them shifts and becomes... Odd. And Pyra himself still, way too still.

(Y/N) of course feels the change, and is quick to start clarifying.

—"But of course, it's optional. It's not like you're forced to kiss anyone. If anything, I never did! So I suppose this will remain as a silly tradition some-"—

Their speech is replaced by a tiny gasp when the monster suddenly grabs their jaw, gently lifting and moving their gaze where he needed. Their eyes narrow slightly when they noticed a tongue peek out from his helmet and slowly, almost shily, wiggle towards their face.

—"Aww. What a polite guy."— you chuckle as a little blush creeps on your cheeks. —"Well of course I'll give you a kiss."—

Ever since they introduced this new method of showing affection, it wasn't rare to witness Pyra ask for a 'kiss' once or twice. It's kinda funny to see how shy he gets, always taking it slow and giving them enough time to stop or pull away. Do they do that? Nuh-uh! Do they think it feels gross? Weird, yes. But (Y/N) is deranged so it's fine.

The pink muscle soon presses against their lips, and they respond by giving it a kiss while holding it in place gently, totally unbothered by its wet and slippery texture. They could feel Pyra practically melt into the gesture, he does it every time. It's small, but is the closest they can get to an actual kiss, and the intimacy and specialness of it seems to get the beast to his very core.

After some second, when (Y/N) attempts to lean back, a pair of big arms gets a hold around them, cementing them in place completely and pulling them closer to the monster. The said beast lets out a low menacing growl as his tongue licks their cheek and part of the jaw. The message was clear...

M̵̞͔̥̏̌̊o̷͕͒̓͑ͅŗ̷̭̝̓̾e̵̠̤͓̅̒̋.

He wanted more.

Despite the apparentaly hostile growls, (Y/N) showed no intimidation and simply chuckled as they roll their eyes.

—"Someone is feeling frisky, huh?"—

Another, and a bit louder, growl resonated from inside the beast's helmet. His grip around them tightening and the tongue sliding along their lips, almost begging for them to kiss it again.

—"Calm down tiger. We both know if we continue you'll get too carried on."— you coo, sliding one of your hands along one side of his helmet.

He groans with certain displeasure, but his grip soon losens as he slightly tilts his head into their touch, yet he doesn't let go neither.

—"If you're really feeling like doing it then let's go somewhere else. You don't want anyone to see me naked, don't you?"—

This time their answer is no longuer a growl or a sound, but the same pair of big hands lighting their form up and swinging over a broad shoulder.

Before starting to walk however, the monster reaches up and snatches the little paper mistletoe. (Y/N) of course notices that and can't hold back the little laugh.

—"Well well, see you really liked this particular tradition."—

They get no response as the monster resumes his walking. But the small squeeze on one of their thighs was enough proof to know that they got it right and it won't be the last time the see the little item.

After this little interaction, and probably after what's about to come, (Y/N) doubts to ever be able to feel that magic of Christmas again.

However, they realize that they still experienced something new. The magic of the mistletoe.

Is that an actual thing? Who knows.

But it worked on Pyra so it must be a thing, right?

It worked well after all.

...Too well.

[tielmamon]

Your turn

He had the whole thing planned in his head. He would set up a picnic at the coast, spoiling his bard with his favorite wine and pastries. Once Jaskier was happy and full, he'd pull him close, bringing him to his chest as they watch the sunset melt into the ocean water and fish out the ring that he'd commissioned years ago. Then, after a very practiced and lengthy (for him, anyway) speech about destiny and choice and being with you will always be what pleases me, finally he will ask Jaskeir to be his husband.

That was the plan.

But as he stared at his bard through the embers of the campfire, something inside him told him he needed to tell him now. He looked so...peaceful. So beautifully content in this little camp they made in the middle of no where. Jaskier senses his eyes and looks up from his journal. He smiles at him from across the fire and suddenly, before he could comprehend it himself, Geralt was kneeling in the dirt between the bard's legs.

He almost wanted to make a joke about the suggestiveness of their positions but Jaskier only looks at him with a pout that has to him physically restrain himself from kissing and gods above, this man-

"Oh! Oh hello there, darling. Be careful, you're knee's still a bit-" And Geralt, for the first time in decades, fumbles as he digs through his pockets in such a rush that it almost slips from his fingers-

"Jaskier." Geralt says, staring up at clear blue like its the sky. The same blues lock on the ring Geralt is pinching between his fingers infront of them.

"You wi-, I mean I, um. M-Marry me." He had planned a speech to go with this question- hell, he wonders if it even came out as a question. He was so fucking nervous for it that he even wrote a whole paragraph about packs and wolves mating for life and that there are certain song birds that do the same. Really good, romantic shit that he knew Jaskier would appreciate. He had written the whole thing down in his journal somewhere, completely forgotten.

He feels his hand trembling as he holds up the ring. A thick gold band engraved with buttercups and dandelions with a wolf nestled subtly between the petals. He imagined day in and day out just how nice it would look around Jaskier's fourth finger.

Jaskier stares, silent for a moment. The seconds tick by like centuries for Geralt as he kneels patiently waiting for a reaction. Doubt just about starts to creep in when Jaskier smiles so bright and beautifully, holding up a finger.

His forefinger. That's...that's not-

"Hold that thought." Quickly, almost tripping over the log he was sitting on ,Jaskier rummages frantically through his pack. Geralt simply lays frozen, still kneeling with a hand holding up the ring. As quickly as he left, Jaskier sits back down practically vibrating.

"Ask me again, dearheart."Jaskier requests sweetly, and truly who was he to deny him?

"Jaskier. Will you marry me?" Geralt smiles, alteast glad he actually managed to phrase it as a question this time. Finally, he sighs a breath of relief and joy when Jaskier all but yanks him up to meet his lips. They meets clumsily, both soon smiling too hard to properly kiss the other back. They melt into eachother, simmering down in breathy chuckles and chasing pecks that seemingly never want to end.

"Gods yes." Jaskier whispers as they pull away, keeping his hands on his cheeks. Geralt smiles widely, slipping the ring on Jaskier's finger and drawing him in for another kiss when he's stopped.

"Hm?"

"My turn." Jaskie beams, revealing a small box from behind him. He opens it and pulls out-

"You're kidding." Geralt laughs, staring at the silver ring hanging from a chain. He spots a clear silhouette of a wolf curled around the circle's edge, chasing a small song bird along the other side.

"Geralt of Rivia." Jaskier has joined him now, kneeling on the dusty floor of their camp. One hand curled so lovingly around his waist while the other holding the ring and chain between them.

"Hm." Geralt feels his cheeks hurting from how hard he's smiling. For all the pain and ache that he's felt throughout his long life, he never thought he'd be lucky enough to have this. To feel the type of ache that is warm and kind. Ones that come after laughing too hard, smiling to long, kissing to much. The kind that only Jaskier seems to give him.

"Wil you-" And he barely lets the bard finish his words before he's pressing his lips back onto his, gripping him by his shoulders.

"Yes." Laughter echoes through their little clearing, disturbing a few birds. Geralt, still so very close leans forward to taste it but is stopped once again.

"Alteast let me finish the proposal before you answer!" Jaskier laughs, beaming like the sun and Geralt is helpless to argue. Still, he makes a show of groaning and rolling his eyes as if his heart isn't beating out of his chest at the sight of him.

"Fine. Ask." Making a show of getting ready, Jaskier coughs and straightens to meet Geralt's eye line. Another pause has the witcher impatiently squeezing Jaskier's hip, causing him to squirm.

"Alright! Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegard Rivia-" that earns him another squeeze, now closer to his waist- a spot Geralt knows is particularly ticklish for the bard.

"Will you marry me?" He manages to say between peels of laughter. It takes a minute for Geralt to respond. He's too busy staring at the man infront of him and thanking every higher power he doesn't believe in that gave him this bard. He still doesn't say anything, even as he pulls Jaskier into a hug feeling the chain slip past his fingers and settle into the crook of the bard's elbow as he hugs back. Only when he feels Jaskier's fingers weave themselves into his hair, he says.

"Yes."

[weixuldo]

No Attachments pt 2

Jedi! Anakin x F/Dancer!Reader

a/n: so idk y this story appealed so much to me, but I just wanted to write pining casue I haven't done that in a while... I hope you all enjoy the second part of this mini series :)

Slight NSFW

Anakin’s growing interest doesn’t go unnoticed

Warnings: cursing, anakin is a little bit of a perv, exhibitionism, voyurism, horny thoughts, cursing, fantasies, masturbation, cannon typical violence, mentions of sexual harassment

________________________

The colorful lights of the club shone perfectly against your skin as you enchanted the audience- you made sure to dress up extra nice tonight though because your little jedi was in attendance. 

The duo had been coming in every few days for the past couple of weeks to monitor the areas, get new information, and to search for any dodgy characters.

Once you realized they would only be here on certain days, you decided to switch up your outfit cycle and routines; you said you wanted the younger of the two and you knew just how to get him. 

Today was a normal day- the pair walked in and greeted your manager and the other employees; of course the younger, whom you learned was named “Anakin”, came up to greet you with a nervous smile.

Even after meeting several times, he just couldn’t seem to get a hold of himself when you were in his vicinity. 

You noticed his lingering eyes as you weaved your way through the crowds each night, his sweaty palm when he shook your hand after a check-in (he noticed his perspiration and began offering his gloved hand instead).

The way he’d bashfully look away once you locked eyes with him- he was totally smitten. 

The times he chose to “check-in” also didn't go unnoticed; he always pulled you aside right after a performance or right after you switched outfits (he really just wanted an excuse to gaze upon you for just a moment longer). 

Little did you know that you were always on his mind- when he left the entertainment district and went back to the temple, no matter how hard he tried, you just simply would not leave his thoughts. Your perfect body haunted him as he would try to resist his natural urges. 

He was better than this and he knew it! So why couldn't he stop himself from imagining you, spread out on his bed at the temple in one of your little outfits, beckoning him with hooded eyes. 

“Anakin” you would call in a sultry tone, drawing him in. 

He’d ravage your body with hungry kisses and pull at the perfectly fit clothing stuck to your body.

How many nights had he stayed awake with the company of his own hand, just imagining you around him?

He’d watched every one of your shows- he had seen your hips, how flexible you were, how calculated you were… he needed you to himself.

__________________________

You finished your main dance for the night and had a few private sessions lined up for some very eager patrons. You didn’t mind doing the private dances, it brought in good money- but they could be… uncomfortable sometimes. 

The lace of your newest lingerie set brushed your thighs as you pulled it up; the first patron was a regular whom you really did not like- he was rude, touchy, and would often try to convince you to do things above your pay-grade…lovely way to start the night. 

The dim hallway was lined with what looked like velvet and rhinestones, an obvious reminder of what you were here to do. 

At the end of the hall were your assigned private booths, your patron was already waiting in there- you could feel the sleazy aura from behind the door. With a sigh you fixed a fake smile onto your face and strided for the door. 

You prepared to knock but you felt a demanding presence behind you

Anakin. 

Your perfectly painted lips curled into a smile and you gently nibbled on your lower lip before turning around. He stood a few feet from you, back straitened, arms crossed, and legs holding a domineering stance. 

“Well look who it is, what can I do you for? Oops! I mean do for you” you teased with a confident smirk. 

The jedi’s scarred eye twitched before he unfurled his arms and strode towards you, “need to do a check-in” he said bluntly before looking down at the floor (so cute). 

“I’ve got a dance I gotta do first- can it wait for a minu-”

“No, tell that pervert he can get another dancer to straddle his lap- you’re occupied” he stated; his demanding tone sent shivers up your spine. 

Funny he thought the people who pay to see you were creeps when he does the same things for free… just the other day you heard him stroking himself in the employee refresher; the fast plaps of his dick sliding through his strong hands, his concealed groans, and breathy pants… you heard it all- and you knew exactly why he felt the need to do that while he was on shift. Quite hypocritical of him. 

“Pervert, huh? Well I happen to need these pervs to come in and request dances so I can pay my bills” you said back to the man standing in front of you. 

He stepped forward and pulled out a small device from his utility belt and fiddled with the controls, you stood on your tippy toes to peek at what he was doing. Once he was done he turned the screen towards you and impatiently muttered, “there, now may we proceed with the check-in?” .

The small device showed your banking account and a slip for a transfer of 3500 credits- holy shit!

“Anakin, what?” you said in shock. 

“Now you don’t have to complain about losing money from that man” he said blankly before guiding you back to your dressing room. 

You knew the Jedi temple had a stash of funds, but that was just crazy! 3500 credits to skip one dance! 

As he guided you Anakin mulled over what to discuss with you in the room- he had just “checked in'' earlier today and both of you knew there wasn’t anything that went on in between then and now.

To be honest, he just didn’t want you going in there and dancing for someone… he didn’t like the idea of you doing that for anyone in private (unless it was him). 

Once you reached your room, you sat comfortably on your sofa and he took the seat adjacent to you. He was about to speak when a pile of your fabric began to move- Anakin’s senses heightened and he was ready to attack anything that came out. 

“Nechaska, my sweet girl! C'mere '' you smiled calling for your fluffy loth cat. 

She hurried to your side and hopped into your lap with a content purr. Anakin scoffed at the cat, a little embarrassed it startled him so much. 

“Nechaska?” he questioned, “you speak Huttese?”.

“Tagwa, um u jedai?” you responded with a smile.

“Tagwa mee'm tuta tatooine” he said, calling out his home planet. 

“Very nice- I like your accent” you smiled at his blushing face. 

“And I like your kitty” he smirked, pointing as Nachaska growled at the strange man in front of her, though both of you knew which kitty he was referring to. 

“You like my kitty? Wanna play with her” you flirted back with a laugh before coaxing the ball of fluff in your lap to back down. 

Yes I would, Anakin thought to himself before he strode closer and squatted down slowly so that he was eye height with the loth cat in your pretty lap. 

“Nene” you cooed, using her nickname, “It’s ok baby, he’s not gonna hurt you”. 

Anakin slowly extended his gloved hand but the cat swatted it away; she hissed once more before sinking her claws into his glove. Your eyes widened at her peculiar behavior before you pulled her away. 

“Nechaska! Bad girl- we don’t claw people! Are you alright Anakin?” you asked worriedly.

Anakin’s eyes were trained on your cleavage as your robe slid off your shoulder as you calmed your cat down and it didn’t help when you called his name so breathlessly (it made his dick stir). 

“Oh yea, i’m good” he said, snapping out of his trance. 

“She has really sharp claws, are you sure you’re ok?” you asked again. 

“Yea, don’t worry about it doll, can't feel it anyways” he laughed. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

He shrugged and began to take his glove off; you had never seen him without it. As it slid down his arm the fabric and skin was replaced by cool metal- a prosthetic! Did he lose it in battle-

“See, not a scratch- you don't have to worry about me” he said before reaching to pet your cat with his flesh hand, “She probably could tell it was metal- I’ve found that animals prefer the real thing” he smiled as she nuzzled her face against his large hand.

His large, strong, veiny hand. The tendons pulled as he maneuvered his fingers around Nene’s soft coat. His long fingers looked a little too appealing; wonder what would they feel like inside of-

“You’ve got a really nice pussy here” he said with a smirk, still looking at the cat (and not you). 

“Yea, she’s really sweet” you said before pulling her from his reach, “Now what did you need to talk to me about?” you said impatiently. 

He looked down with a smile and shook his head; he could tell you were jealous of the attention he was giving your pet- it was cute.

“Just wanted to ask if you had any more info or if you’d overheard anything lately?” he said as he took his normal seat on the velvety couch adjacent to your vanity. 

“Ani- what would I have heard? I’ve been on stage all night” you sighed; you didn't even realize you had shortened the Jedi’s name (it was a habit for you to give everyone nicknames, especially since you’d been in this business to long- people loved a good pet name). 

“What did you just call me?” the Jedi asked, placing his elbows firmly on his knees and leaning forward. 

He seemed displeased; you inhaled sharply. 

“Sorry, ‘ts a habit- I just shortened names a lot, I didn’t mean to offend you” you sputtered out as you subconsciously held Nene closer to your chest; her purrs against your chest gave you comfort. 

What you didn’t know was Anakin had to slide forward because his dick perked up at the name; he called you into this meeting so he couldn’t just leave now- but he also didn’t want you seeing his obvious hard-on.

…Especially just from his name. 

“It’s alright-” he said deeply. 

“I won’t call you that again, My apol-”

“No!” he half shouted, half pleaded; he cleared his throat and shook his head, “no, you’re good, sweetheart”. 

Sweetheart…

You almost had to suppress a moan as you clenched your thighs together. Anakin observed you and tried to analyze what was going through your mind- was the name too much?

Sure you were a flirty person but he could never tell if you actually meant it or if it was just your work persona. Either way, sometimes he just had to take a risk. 

“Well then, Ani… What other knowledge can I offer you?” you batted your lashes finally gaining your footing again. 

Before he could answer there was a familiar knock on your door, “Hey Z! C’mon in” you said standing. 

Your boss walked in somberly with Obi-Wan and another dancer, “Excuse the interruption my dear, but a new development has just arisen in the case”.

“Anakin, we need to talk to this young woman, now” the bearded man beckoned. 

“Would you be ok to do another dance tonight? Since Rini needs to be spoken to…” Z asked anxiously, his pale blue hands wringing around his robes. 

“Of course, Z” you said as the jedi and your coworker left the room. 

“What’s going on?” you asked worriedly once the door was closed. 

The tall twi’lek shook his head and you ran to his side as he buried his face in his hands. 

“Tarkir was found in the back alley, disarmed and severely injured” he explained and you allowed your Nene to sit in his lap. 

Takir was a Togruta who was a few years older than you who worked as head of security at the club. You and him didn’ talk much but there was a general sense of comradery among the club’s employees.

But you did know that he and Z had been together since you had worked at the establishment (which was years…). 

“Maker?! Where is he now? Is he going to be alright?” you asked, placing a comforting hand on Z’s back. 

“He’s been taken to a med center but I’m not sure if he’ll pull through…” Z sniffled.

“I'm so sorry Z- Is there anything I can do?” 

He shook his head, “No, but thank you dear… But Rini-”

“What about Rini?”

His fingers ran through your cat’s fur as he calmed himself (you’d never seen him so vulnerable). 

“She- She has been involved with the crimes… and the patron- Nevermind, I’m sure the Jedi will fill you in” he wiped at the tears forming in his eyes. 

“No- I need to know that you’ll be ok, I don’t want to leave you like this Z” you said as you placed your hands on his shoulders. 

He shook his head, “I’m fine- What would help me the most is if you would perform Rini’s number since she’s probably going to be arrested in a few hours” he attempted to joke and you nodded. 

“Alright” 

____________________________________

That night was the last time you saw the jedi pair; with the case solved, there was no reason for them to stick around.

The whole club had kinda gotten used to seeing them; honestly kind of a shame they wouldn’t be around anymore. 

Months went by and people moved on, but you couldn't remove Anakin from your mind- you really did start to like him… But it was relieving to know the immediate danger was gone. 

You still weren't really sure what actually occurred, but you did know that Rini was taken to the jedi temple and promptly replaced. Z hired a new head of security and spent more time at home caring for his lover and less time at the club. 

Things had definitely changed- for the first time in years you were not enjoying your work anymore. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why but you had begun searching for other jobs.

Sure the crimes had been absolved but something about the place just felt unsafe- especially since Z wasn’t there to manage it full time anymore. 

Tonight was the same as always, you got ready, warmed up, and headed backstage to wait for your cues. Recently your dancing had been lackluster- of course the patrons still enjoyed the show, but your heart just wasn't in it anymore. 

The presenter announced your oh-so familiar stage name and you strutted onstage. The LED lights of the club flashed as your song began. Without much effort you strutted down the stage to the silver pole and completed a full carousel swivel before landing in a split. The crowd cheered as you maneuvered your legs into a new position.

There were more patrons than usual tonight; was there a holiday you weren’t aware of? You scanned the crowd to get a feel of what kind of people you would be entertaining here tonight- they seemed kind of rowdy.

You almost missed your next move when your eyes landed on a familiar face; those piercing blue eyes, that scar- Anakin.

As you continued your performance, he watched intently, eyes never leaving your form. He really wasn’t supposed to be here but it had been too long since he saw you. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remove your enchantment from his mind. 

Night after night, he dreamed only of you; some nights he woke to stained boxer shorts, others, he had to rut his hips into his mattress to suppress his desire. 

Finally, today he was able to slip away from the temple to take some much needed personal time; Obi-Wan had asked him what his plan was and he explained he needed to go into the city to look at new parts for his arm.

Obviously that was a lie, because Anakin had just repaired it about a week ago, but Anakin had a feeling Obi-Wan already knew what he was doing. 

He donned civilian clothes and headed into the heart of the bustling city, ready to see you again. 

And here you were, dancing across the stage- how he missed the colored lights across your soft skin; he needed to speak with you. Your song finished and he practically ran to the teller to set up a private meeting. 

Forcefully he slammed his credits down on the counter and spoke, “I want to request room 3 with the last dancer that was on”.

“Oh, she is our highest rated dancer, her fees are very-” the woman said cautiously. 

“I’m aware, I’ll pay whatever I need to have an audience with her” Anakin spoke formally, making a few patrons laugh at his vernacular. 

“Alright” the woman replied skeptically, preparing to jot his name down. 

“Tell her it's Anakin,” he said before the woman handed him the shiny golden key to the room at the end of the hall. 

He entered the familiar room and sat with a nervous sigh- he was finally going to ask what he had been wanting to for months. 

_________________________________

You let your hair down from the tight updo it was in as someone knocked on your door. 

“Come in!” you said with a sigh; you really just wanted this night to be over. 

The desk attendant walked in with a notepad and started reading off the private dances you had scheduled tonight. 

“- Anakin” 

You stopped what you were doing and turned towards her. 

“Anakin?” you confirmed. 

“Yes, he's a taller guy with a scar over his-” she began.

“Clear my schedule for the rest of the night- I’m only seeing him” you said as you hastily searched for your best outfit (an elegant dress that wasn't too revealing). 

“B-but y/n, what about the other-”

“Tell them I have been fully booked or tell them that my availability has changed, ‘t doesn't really matter to me” you said, touching up your lipgloss. 

She nodded before heading for the door, “He’s in room 3”. 

Room 3… you took a deep breath as you made your way down the velvety hallway.

Everything's gonna be fine- just be confident as always.

With a tremor in your hand you reached for the door.

***

a/n: soo yea sorry abt all of the new characters but i wanted to make this story realistic lolll- idk y but perv ani has been on my mind 😩

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A Little Mean For Me PART ONE. Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.2k] smut, mean steve, sweet steve.

The sun was properly starting to set now, Steve’s bedroom a glow of sherbet orange and pink, the sky outside hazy and the clouds in the distance turning navy. It meant that the boy’s face was all gold highlights and inky shadows when he turned from the window, sharp lines, dark eyes and a smile that cut through you. 

He was pressed against his headboard, legs spread, you between his thighs and Steve was harder than he’d ever been in his entire damn life. 

“Gotta do better than that, baby,” he coaxed, pretty, pink lips pouting at you condescendingly. “You want me?”

He was palming himself through his jeans, the denim too tight across his dick but he needed some relief, he was getting desperate. You could tell, you could see it in the way he looked at you, lips parted, head thrown back to look at you from under hooded, dark eyes. 

You nodded, kneeling forward to move into him, still grazing over a thigh, trying your best not to grind down onto him. 

Steve tutted, reached out to draw a line from your bare shoulder to down between your tits, thumb flicking over an already hard nipple and he smiled when you shivered. His hand found the soft of your thigh, let his palm curl around the back of it as he encouraged you closer. 

He sat you on his lap, grinned when you rubbed down a little and he could feel how warm you were, still slick and sensitive from how he’d made you come on his fingers only minutes before. But you were enraptured by the way he thumbed at his jeans, button popping open, the sound of the zipper filling the room. 

You wanted to beg, you were almost certain you would if he asked. 

The thick outline of him was more than evident through his black boxers, the length of him twitching under your stare and you rocked forward a little more, inching up the boy’s thigh in search of what you wanted. 

A hand on your thigh stopped you, wide and warm and squeezing slightly at the doughy flesh there, long fingers close to brushing along your cunt again. 

If you whimpered, Steve ignored it. 

“Ah, ah,” he whispered, “enough of that. You’re so greedy,” he mused, voice thoughtful, soft, amused. 

“D’you already want more, baby?” Steve shifted, leaning forward just enough to tug his shirt off, grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head. It got lost in the mess of your clothes that were scattered on the floor and his hair was left wild. “Really?”

“God, yeah,” you were mumbling, babbling almost, eyes pulled from Steve’s cock to his pretty eyes and his messy hair that you hadn’t really had a chance to yank at yet. “Please, want more, want you.”

He let you lean in this time, his smile pressed to your lips when he allowed you a kiss, lazy and hot, like he was intending on taking his time with you. But his tongue against yours was a dirty flick, teeth grazing, lips bitten, and it only made you grind yourself down once more. 

“Yeah?” He asked you, voice like sin. “D’you want my cock, is that it, sweetheart?”

You gasped, felt the pinching grip of his hand on your ass cheek and you clenched your eyes closed, forehead pressed to Steve’s as you panted into him. 

“Mhmm.”

Steve laughed, a soft huff of a sound that made your toes curl. “Wouldn’t be very mean of me if I just gave you what you wanted, though, would it?”

Your eyes flew open, wide and surprised, and your heart was pounding. Jesus Christ, the boy was in your head, knowing what you wanted, knowing what you weren’t even sure of yourself but he was pulling it out of you like it was easy. 

It’s why you pushed your tits up against his bare chest, all doe eyed and flushed, skirt still twisted around your hips like the naughtiest fucking school girl you could imagine. You combed through the mess of his hair, the brown strands misbehaving almost as much as you were. 

“Baby,” you sighed, voice quiet enough to sound sticky sweet, breathy and needy. “Baby, you said you always give me what I want.”

It wasn’t so much a ploy as complete desperation on your part, your cunt clenching down on nothing as Steve’s big hand continued to push and pull at your ass, rocking your back and forth over his denim covered thigh, stopping you when your movements got too quick. 

The boy sucked at his teeth, pouted and looked at you thoughtfully, head tilted. He sighed, swept your hair away from your face and tapped at the button of your nose with a finger before trailing it across your top lip, then your bottom. He pushed at your mouth with his thumb, still gentle, but enough that you got the message quick and let your lips part. 

He let out a little moan when you took his thumb in, other fingers hooked under your chin and he pressed the digit against your tongue, felt you flick at it before closing your lips around him. Steve liked the way your gaze got a little glassy at that, unfocused and dreamy, just for him. 

“I do,” he told you, sounding far too sweet for the way he was pressing down on your tongue, dragging the pad of his thumb across it. “But maybe that’s what’s got you actin’ like a little brat.”

If you weren’t so fucking turned on, you would’ve maybe acted more shocked. But the words only made you suck harder and Steve grinned, wide, dimples showing and making him look entirely too pretty. 

Maybe he was trying to kill you, you thought. 

“Wanna suck on something else, honey?”

He was, you decided. He was trying to kill you. 

Your lashes fluttered at his words, tongue curling around his thumb like it was something else and you moaned around him, nodding, fingertips curling around the already open button of his jeans. You grazed the waistband of his boxers, flicking at the elastic and your breath came out a little too fast when Steve slid his thumb from your lips and smiled.

“Go ‘head,” he told you, “be sweet for me.”

You were greedy as you took him in your mouth, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. Steve sounded like the breath was punched from him when you wrapped your lips over the head of his cock, sucking softly, just like you had around his thumb. He groaned, petted at your hair and rested his palm gently around the curve of your neck, feeling you bob up and down for him. 

He was panting, huffing out harsh breaths, swears falling from his lips and when you looked up at him through your lashes, he whispered your name and it sounded like a prayer. Steve let his head fall back, jaw slack, eyes fluttering shut before they snapped back to your own, as if he didn’t dare miss the show.

The length of him slid slick over your tongue, nudging at the back of your throat as you tried your best to take all of him, so eager to please him the way he did you. 

But then Steve’s hand was cupping at your cheek, thumb rubbing over the swell there that was all him and he couldn’t help the way he bucked his hips a little, crying out at the feeling of your mouth sucking a little harder around him. He tapped your jaw, once, twice, breathing too heavy and you let go of him with a dirty pop.

You didn’t get a chance to ask if there was anything wrong, why he wanted you to stop. The boy was pushing at his jeans, just enough for them to bundle at his thighs and he was catching your hand and pulling you back towards him.

You shuffled eagerly onto his lap, hands at the zipper on your skirt but Steve was shaking his head, eyes dark. “Leave it on for me, baby.”

So he helped you straddle his thighs, the hard length of his cock sliding up between your folds and you whined, falling forward to hold at his broad shoulders. Steve caught you in a kiss, hands on your waist, fingers digging into your sides almost too tight and his kisses were more urgent than ever. He was all tongue and teeth, nipping and licking into you, your nails clawing over his chest as he did.

You felt a little wild, a little wrecked. 

“Steve…”

“Shh, I know, sweetheart, s’fine, you can take me,” Steve hushed, voice sticky with fondness. The sound of it caught in your throat, made your eyes a little glassy again. “On you go, be good.”

You sunk down on him too easily, cunt clenching immediately at the feel of finally getting what you’d been waiting for. You were soaked, warm and tight and it made Steve lose it a little, hands gripping you to keep you still, just for a second. 

“You feel too fuckin’ good,” he mumbled into your neck, lips dancing across your bare shoulder, “should be illegal, goddamn.”

A desperate sound left your mouth, a whine, high pitched and wanting. You rolled your hips, grinding yourself down on the boy so you could take him a little bit deeper. Steve’s hand wrapped around your neck, tight enough that you were just aware of it in your hazy state. His thumb stroked down the column of it, lips parted as he took in the sight of you.

Legs spread over his, your skirt pushed up to the tops of your thighs, cunt taking every inch of him. Bare chest, peaked nipples, lips kiss bruised and parted as he held you by the pretty line of your neck. 

“You still want me to be mean, baby? Huh?”

You didn’t know, suddenly thinking was too much and Steve still wasn’t letting you move, one hand on your throat, the other on your thigh. You moaned, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and your brow was puckered, trying hard to work out what you wanted other than finally moving.

“I- fuck, I don’t- Steve, please.”

The boy hummed, a soft sound of understanding and he nodded like he knew. Maybe he did. You were sure he did, because he kept his hand around your neck and brought you closer to him, foreheads touching as he finally, finally, fucked up into you, hips thrusting shallow. 

You cried out, hands planted on the boy’s chest for purchase as he finally grabbed at your hips, holding you over him in an impressive display of strength, hips pistoning. The burn of it all was perfect - a fast, dirty slide in and out of you, the sounds of how wet he’d made you filling the room and making Steve groan loud. 

You were panting, eyes barely open as your nails scratched over bare skin, trying your best to hold into Steve’s chest, his shoulders, his neck, soft uh, uh uh’s falling messily from your lips.

“Baby,” Steve grunted, “baby, need you to come, can’t last much longer, can’t-”

And then he was rolling you both, a little clumsy and almost too quick, onto the mattress and onto your back. You gasped, hair a mess over the pillow as Steve curled a wide hand over the inside of your thigh and he cooed at you all pretty when he pushed that leg up and out for him, spreading you a little wider. 

“That’s it, fuck yes, that’s it pretty girl,” Steve murmured, cock sliding in and out of you like he hadn’t just thrown you around. His free hand slid over your cunt, thumb on your clit, spreading you a little dirtily, eyes hooded as he watched the way he pressed down on you. “So good for me, so fucking sweet for me.”

It was a blur when you came again, harder than the first time, overwhelmed by the snap of Steve’s hips against your own, the fucking perfect feeling of being so full. It was all soft sheets that smelled like Steve, the warmth of his skin on your own, the slick of both of you messing your thighs. It was blinding, it was a white hot burn, a flash of pleasure that crept across your skin like a firecracker. It was Steve kissing you as he came, lips parted over your own as he groaned into you, eyes shut, hair damp, hands gripping you like you were both in danger of floating away.

You thought you might be. 

 “You okay?” Steve huffed, chest heaving against your own. He held himself on his elbows, careful not to crush you and he smiled when you nodded, eyes sparkly as you stared up at him. “Good?”

“Really good,” you replied but he knew you better, knew the look on your face, knew how fucked out you were. ‘Holy shit,’  is what you meant, ‘I fucking love you,’  is what you didn’t have the energy to say.

The boy grinned, leaned into you to nudge at your nose with his, pressed a sweet kiss to your lips and you squealed when he chased your mouth, pushing more to the corner of it, the line of your jaw, the heat of your cheeks.

“So, you like it when I’m a little mean, huh?”

[rainba]

Ok hear me out…

Luka and kairos with INSANE baby fever B)

Luka and Kairos both definitely experience baby fever, to some degree… It hits Luka harder than Kairos, but I like to think that Kairos’ side of things is much funnier. 

I… Thiiiink I answered this ask right? ｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡I hope I did!

This ended up being a lot fluffier than I thought it would be...

(Darling’s gender isn’t mentioned! Only mentions whether or not they can bear children. (つω`｡)

Kairos knows that he’s broke and definitely can’t afford to raise a kid– not yet, anyway! But once he continues building up his portfolio and raises his prices, he will eventually make a decent wage!

If darling is capable of having children, Kairos’ mind would basically become mushy as he imagines your all’s children together. Like… Whose eye color would they inherit? Would they be a boy or a girl? Ooh, would they take after him and also be an artist–!? There are so many possibilities to consider! 

Kairos would absent-mindedly start drawing out what your all’s future children might look like. ^^;;;;

But also, most importantly: what would you all name your children? 

Kairos would definitely come up with the edgiest, kind of corniest names ever. They sound more like OC names than anything, names like, “Twilight!” Or “Lucifer!” So, unless you also want to name your kids that, you’ll have to tell him that you don’t really like those. ^^;;;;;

If you’re a darling that can’t have kids, then Kairos would also be happy to adopt!! When he has baby fever, he’d get all excited about the idea of going out and going through the process of adoption with you. It’d be a long journey, but a journey he’s willing to take if it’s with you!

The most kids he would want/be able to handle is two, but he’ll ultimately let you decide how many kids you'll both have. (o^ ^o) Kairos would feel so nervous taking in someone of any age, but he’d still try his best!!

He’d absolutely be the pushover dad who just does whatever his partner wants him to.

｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡

As for Luka, the insane baby fever really does hit him hard sometimes. Like– throughout his entire life, the idea of being a father has sounded nice to him. And the idea of raising a child with you makes his heart and mind feel all fuzzy.

As shown in a few posts of him before… He mostly gets that baby fever when he’s in heat. ^^;;;;;; The thought of having a family with you just sends him over the edge, and all he can think about is fucking you until his dream becomes a reality.

Honestly, I think that Luka would be a decent father. Overprotective? Absolutely. Overbearing? Sometimes, for sure. Cruel and abusive? Not a chance in hell. (ﾉ_ヽ)

If darling can get pregnant, and they do end up pregnant, there would be a few nights where Luka is unable to sleep at night, tossing and turning in bed as he constantly glances over at you. You’re lying there so peacefully, carrying his child… He’d lovingly place his soft ears against your stomach while caressing you gently. He can’t help but feel that he’s incredibly lucky to have you– the love of his life– his obsession- his everything. The first and only person to ever make him feel alive. ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝ The two of you are truly bound together, forever. ღ

Luka would honestly end up falling asleep with his head on (or beside) your stomach, all curled up with his pink tail wrapped around you. (o´∀`o)

He knows that he can be, um… An asshole, to say the least. And that he’s not very good at understanding complex emotions. But when you have his child, he’ll do everything in his power to get better at being empathetic and patient, for the sake of you and your all's family. (｡╯︵╰｡)

(Luka wouldn't stop his games with you entirely, though. It's always gonna be in his nature to tease and mess with you (´-ω-`). )

When it comes to adoption, Luka would have absolutely no problems with adopting multiple kids. For him, his ideal family size is four children!! He would definitely be able to provide for all of them– although, he might end up stuck at work doing overtime more frequently. But doing more work doesn’t matter to him, so long as everyone is happy. (=`ω´=)

Also, side note, Luka would definitely want you to be a stay-at-home, full-time parent. ^^;;;;;; It’s a small fantasy of his to always come home from work and see you all happy and cozy, smiling warmly as you welcome him back. Maybe you’ll have a meal prepared for him, the house will be all tidied up and your all’s kids will be excited that he’s home from work.~

The holidays, the vacations, the good and bad days… (っ˘ω˘ς ) Luka would like to live that kind of life with you, one day, if you let him.

[yellowharrington]

jaded -- chapter 3, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking as usual. angsty!!! minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: sorry for the kinda late posting, was at the lake this weekend hehe. v angsty chapter but i hope u love it!!

summary: feelings get involved.

masterlist | chapter 2 | chapter 4

When the morning light filters through your curtains that morning, it’s disappointing to see that he’s not there laying with you. Not an abnormal offence, sure, but it was beginning to hurt more and more when he would sneak off in the middle of the night. The closer you got with him, the more it hurt to wake up alone, knowing he didn’t want to spend the night with you afterwards. 

When you finally did make it out of bed, you opened your bedroom door to a very not-empty kitchen. Carmy had his back turned, slightly hunched over the stove with a two pans on the burners, soft sizzling coming from his general direction. You were surprised to see him there, dipping a spoon in the sauce he was making before turning around and seeing you standing there. “Good morning. Did I wake you?”

This was certainly becoming something else entirely.

“No, not at all. Hi.” He looked a little disheveled and sleepy still, white t-shirt now pulled over his chest, slightly riding up in the front and exposing his lower stomach. You did make a mental note that he hadn’t worn his boxers to bed last night. “Hi,” he does a little skip out of the kitchen, coming towards you, leaning in for a warm kiss planted right on your lips. He tasted of butter and slightly of toothpaste. “I made you an omelette,” he goes back to his pan and grabs you a plate, but not before looking through a few cupboards to find where the plates actually are. He puts up a perfect orange-yellow French omelette, sprinkling a few fresh chives overtop. “What has gotten into you?” you laugh, taking the breakfast from him and cutting off a small piece. He looked a little flustered, watching you take the first bite. “Good?” He asked excitedly. “Delicious. Don’t dodge the question. Why are you being like this? What… happened?” 

He seemed a little nervous, before leaning over the counter across from you and clasping his hands together. “I’m bad at this,” he starts, drawing his eyes down and attempting not to make eye contact with you. “I’m so bad at all of this shit, and, I feel fuckin’… I feel bad.” your heart sank a little, as you placed the fork on the side of your plate and listened. “Y’know, I was with Claire for a little while, as you, well, as you know it didn’t end well, so I’m kinda scared of all this shit.” You nodded along, not being able to avoid taking another small bite of the food in front of you. Shit, he really did know how to fuckin’ cook.

“But I like you. And I kept leaving in the middle of the night because I was scared you were gonna wake up and regret it, and regret me, and all this,” he’s so awkwardly sincere, it almost makes your stomach hurt. “But at the restaurant yesterday, and last night, I just felt…” he stops for a moment, trying so hard not to self-sabotage for once, “I felt like you just really wanted me here. And I haven’t felt like that maybe, maybe fuckin’, maybe ever.” the silence that was laid over the kitchen was loud as you let yourself stare at him a little. “Please say something,” he pleaded, his smirk curling up on the left corner of his mouth. 

“Carmen, every second I get to be with you is fucking… awesome,” you start, getting up from your seat and letting your hands press against his chest. “I don’t know how to do this either. I just… I’m really happy you’re here too.” 

“And, well, I just feel, just fucking stop me if I’m being insane-” you let your lips attach to his then, closing the gap between you two and forcing him to just be in the moment. “Shut up,” and it’s eager against his lips. “Don’t burn your hollandaise.” And when he pulls away to turn the heat off on the pans, he laughs at his own clumsiness. 

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

—

The only problem now is that there is a secret looming over everyone at The Bear. It’s like the mood shifted when you walked into work on Monday morning, and not just because you had a little pep in your step, but it almost felt like everyone knew.

You’re sure they didn’t, there was no way to know, truly, but it felt like it. There wasn’t even really anything to know, because you hadn’t done a lot of talking about anything after that morning, and instead had chosen to spend the day tangled up in your sheets and trying new recipes in the kitchen. There was no label, no conversation, no anything, so there was really nothing to know.

But it felt like everyone knew.

So when Carmy waltzed in at noon and put his bag away in his locker, hanging up his wool jacket that now smelled of your vanilla perfume, it took every bone in your body not to act like he was your boyfriend. Or, whatever this was now.

But he breezed by you easily, barely even giving you a nod of acknowledgment, and you guess it kinda made sense. Workplace relationships were generally frowned upon by, well, everyone, and the mess that Carmy had gotten into with Claire certainly didn’t paint him as the nicest person to be involved with. He was always going a mile a minute at work anyways, back and forth from office to prep to expo, and you knew he wouldn’t be giving you any special treatment.

What you weren’t expecting was his completed ignorance of your presence, as if you weren’t even in the building. He didn’t want to make anything obvious, sure, but he was at the point where it was honestly kind of funny how much he had switched up.

“Is Carmy mad at you or something?” Sydney asked, pulling you out of your coconut macaroon trance. “I don’t think so, why?” She leaned against your station and watched as he fingered through paper in the office, making a few small notes into a notebook. He was oblivious to the fact that Sydney was staring daggers at him. “He just seems like, annoyed, I guess.” “Isn’t Carmy always annoyed?” she giggled a little at that. “Yeah. He is. I heard Claire was trying to get a hold of him, from Richie,” she whispered. “Like a few nights ago. I guess she wants to give it another chance and like, forgave him or whatever.” You felt your cheeks start to get hot. “Oh, yeah? She, uh, - she told him that?”

She looked at you, seemingly right through your eyes and into your soul. “Does that mean something to you if she did?” You suddenly felt very on the spot, not knowing what to say. “Look, you’re not the first person to have a little crush on your boss okay? But don’t… don’t do it with him. He’s got something going on with Claire that’s just… something else. That’s old family shit, you don’t wanna get involved with that. He’s never gonna get over her.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Syd,” and it all felt a little wrong because now your mouth was dry and your head was spinning a little, because deep down, maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe if Claire was gonna come running back and forgive Carmy, maybe you didn’t stand a chance.

So you made your macaroons, and iced your cakes, and tried not to think about it.

- 

It’s the beginning of the end when he starts just coming over to your place after work, instead of asking. 

It’s a routine now - you’d stay late together, watching every last one of them leave, before hopping into Carmy’s passenger side and letting his rough hands find the top of your thigh as he drove the familiar way back to your place. You’d share a bowl of chips and salsa, or sometimes a grilled cheese if you were feeling particularly fancy. On Sundays, if he hadn’t stayed the night before, you’d order takeout and watch each other’s favourite movies, no matter how many times you’d seen them before. 

It was becoming harder to ignore the looming cloud of Claire. You knew you needed to ask, like, what the fuck was going on, because the problem with dating Carmy and no one knowing was that you were still in on all of the kitchen gossip. Richie was the perpetrator of it all, which made it mostly questionable, but it had some merit nonetheless.

“I heard she called him crying on the phone and was begging for him back, and he was all like, “Claire no, you’re drunk, you’ll regret calling me, or some shit,” Richie had started, and your interest was piqued. “I doubt that happened,” Sydney added, talking just loud enough for you to eavesdrop. “He’s just never gonna get over what an ass wipe he is, beat himself up about it forever, and never properly love again. I think.” And even though the small giggles that erupted from the group were low and gentle, it didn’t hurt any less that everyone seemed to collectively agree that Carmy had fucked her over so bad that he would probably be broken forever. Ergo, you were just a rebound. Nothing more.

When you’re being eerily silent on the couch one night, he seems to notice. “What’s up?” He’s so innocent when he asks, eyes still on the TV in front of him, a spoon stuck into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in his lap. “What really happened with you and Claire, anyways? What’s the story?”

He looked a little jarred by the question, suddenly feeling like the room was too small and the breeze was too cold and it all felt a little weird. 

“What do you wanna know? Like, from the beginning?”

“Yeah. Whatever you wanna tell me. However deep this goes.”

He can tell you’ve already overthought this to shit, and this was something he would have to navigate fairly carefully, lest there be a landmine.

“Uh, well, um, she was - like a family friend, while we are growin’ up, y’know. And I had a big crush on her then and I, um, well I didn’t see her for a long time and then she was just, like, in the grocery store that day, when I was buying veal stock?”

You nodded along attentively, watching as he slid his palms down his clothed thighs nervously.

“And uh, we started talking after that, rekindling old shit and just reminiscing, y’know? And it felt really nice. I hadn’t really had like, a real girlfriend before that, like a few hookups in New York and whatever but not like a partner,” he let his tongue dart in between his lips, a pause. “I guess I’m kinda outing myself as a loser, first real girlfriend at this age, but, I trusted her a lot and it felt kinda right.”

You don’t know if you were prepared for this conversation, but it was too late to take back the question.

“So we went out for a bit, and I really liked her, I guess I loved her, I don’t know. But when I was locked in the fridge on opening night and shit was going wrong I just, went on this tirade about how much I regretted being with her and spending so much time and energy on her when I should’ve been dealing with my fuckin’ restaurant. And shit was falling apart and I was so upset about it all, and I just broke.” The silence was palpable.

“And she called me a few nights ago and she was drunk and yelling at me, and I never intended to be such a fucking asshole but I was. And then I kinda heard through the grapevine that she wanted to talk to me again, and explain, but I just felt… like I can’t fix it. So what’s the point, ya know? And- and she told me that she wanted to fix it, and she would forgive me, and stuff, but it’ll never be the same.”

“Would you fix it with her if you could? If it could go back to the way it was?”

There’s silence, again. And this time, there’s an answer hidden under it, one that is better left unsaid. Suddenly there’s an awkwardness, and Carmy’s looking at you with his usually warm blue eyes, but they look icy tonight. You know he feels bad, but not bad enough to be over her completely, and the blanket of sadness that is laid over the room suddenly feels rather overwhelming.

The words hang on the tip of his tongue, as you grab the dishes in front of you and step over him to go to the kitchen, putting them in the sink to soak. You let the hot water run over the porcelain, letting a few small tears fall from the sides of your eyes, into the murky water below. The long sleeve you’re wearing gets pulled up over your hands to wipe the tears away, taking a few shallow breaths to hopefully stop them from staining your cheeks.

He’s beside you in the kitchen now, an apologetic look on his face, watching as you turn to face him. “Maybe you should just go home tonight,” you finally say. “I could use a night to myself.” “Don’t, I didn’t mean-“ “It’s okay, Carmen, really. I’d just rather be alone.” He looks down at his socked feet on your kitchen floor, nodded silently before grabbing his keys and his coat, slipping on his shoes, and walking out.

You watch him from the front window, arms crossed over your chest. He lets a fist hit the roof of his car, and you can hear his “Fuck!” Ring out into the night sky. The orange tip of his cigarette creates a faint glow by his face as he gets in. The tears well up in your eyes as he drives off, leaving you alone in your apartment, before you turn away and let yourself collapse into bed.

[bitin-and-barkin]

Dying Desires

Thinking about replacing Arthur as "The Bodyguard" of the gang.

Warnings: Very horny Arthur, Arthur Morgan x Reader, Dom Reader, Sub Arthur, Buff Reader, Religious + Dog symbolism, Probably out of character, mentions of shooting + being shot, mentions of needles, Gender Neutral Reader, Smut but nothing actually happens between you + Arthur, just daydreams, degradation + cigarettes being put out on people

READ MORE UNDER THE CUT

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Imagine; Dutch or Hosea are talking up someone new they met, who they think might be a nice "addition" to their little family.

People are hesitant at best. After the shit that went down in blackwater, they're already looking for new recruits?

But they claim you're reliable. During a job gone wrong, you helped them. And when they asked why? You just did it because you thought they needed it. No ill intent, no other reason in sight. The best part is, you obviously have no clue who they are.

Not only that, but you're smart and charming and agree with them on their views on the civilized world. You're a criminal too in the law's eyes, but in reality, you're just the modern-day Robin Hood they always tried to be.

And so, they bring by a couple of members to meet you. To get some other people's point of view before they come to an agreement.

It's simple. A quick get together in a saloon. If they smell something fishy, they can easily just leave and forget about you.

Arthur agrees to come along, and when he meets you,

Goddamn.

You aren't an addition. You're the whole damn equation.

Think Abby from TLOU2 or Koing from COD or any other jacked characters. Either way, female, male, or anything in-between, you're 6 foot something and over 180 pounds of pure fucking muscle.

Armed to the teeth with one hell of a quick draw and a right hook strong enough to even make god flinch.

For once in his life, even he feels intimidated.

And when Dutch comes up to greet you?

Good God, you're sweet.

And charming too.

Your bark isn't anything like your bite, or at the very least the bite you could give.

You're kind, selfless, generous, and well-read. Confident, too. It feels like they're talking to a saint half your size.

You even cover all their drinks despite just meeting them.

He can tell it's not naivety. Scars cover your body, and you got a certain look in your eyes that just shows that you know what the world can be like.

You're just choosing to be kind. For no reason at all.

Even when later that evening somebody attempts to start a fight with you, despite you being able to drag them across the floor, you keep it civil and keep your cool.

At least at first.

The second the guy tries to throw a punch, you're off. You grab his arm, curl up your fist, and deck him with one hit.

As soon as the fight started, it was over, as the man was already knocked out on the floor with a nosebleed to match.

Then, like clockwork, you sat down and asked Arthur to continue talking with that sweet-as-honey, smooth, and lazy look in your eyes.

As you chatted with Hosea about some crime novel, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to kiss the blood off your knuckles.

The day turned to night, and you guys got ready to part ways.

You happily waved goodbye, saying you had a good time.

But by the end of the night? It was already settled.

You were joining them alright.

And now, it has been a couple of months since you joined.

And it was hard to ignore the problem you've been causing for Arthur.

You weren't doing anything wrong, in fact, you were doing everything right.

Sweet with the gals, even getting in Grimshaw's favor.

Surprisingly tolerant with the guys, oddly kind with them, even down to the goddamn O'Driscoll.

But now they're asking you to do jobs.

Intimidation? They're calling for you.

Need a guard? They're yelling your name.

Want backup? Well, you're coming along, obviously.

You've been taking John's title as the "prize pony." Considering how far you've fallen in Dutch's favor.

And you're taking Arthur's title as the brute.

But that wasn't the problem.

He didn't care about Dutch's favor or random titles.

It was the fact that your title was correct.

You were a brute.

Standing next to him in jobs, you just towered over him.

You towered over him. Him. You towered over him like he was a little boy.

He was out hunting with you once and his aim was getting wonky with his bow.

You came over, trying to show him how he needed to grip it.

But when you put your hands over his, he realized how much bigger yours were.

Putting your hands palm to palm, making jokes about how small he was compared to you, he was starting to understand why women preferred rugged men.

Another time, he got shot in the calf during a job and couldn't walk.

He said it was fine and put out his hand for you to help him up so he could limp back to his horse.

But instead? You picked him up. Bridal style and everything, not even breaking a sweat. Carrying him to your horse and placing him on the back, saying he was in no state to be riding alone.

And as he pressed his chest up against your back as you rode, wrapping his arms around your stomach for balance, he felt a newfound heat in his.

Your stomach rising as you breathed in and out, telling him in a firm voice to stay put and that you'd get them back to camp. Whistling for his horse to follow you.

With the way you were talking, Arthur wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop himself from heeling and barking and rolling over if you asked.

Your last job was the last straw. You two were clearing out an O'Driscoll camp together.

One was left and the man was shooting you a sharp gaze, swearing he was gonna kill you as your gun stared at him just as kindly.

Watching the muscles in your forearms move as you pulled the trigger,

he couldn't stop himself from begging the lord for you to one day turn your aim to his lips,

so he could taste something that was yours and holy before he died.

He has never met anybody bigger than him.

And it was causing problems.

As now, he couldn't stop thinking about you.

Thrashing in his cot that night, he kept imagining you putting him on his knees like a sinner.

Making him suck on the barrel of your gun as his hands claw at your belt, with the weight of something else in his mouth being the only thing able to satiate him.

You grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling his head away from your hips as cum seeped down his lips.

Tilting his head back, making sure he swallowed every ounce as he rutted his aching dick between your closed calves.

Manhandling him into position like livestock as you threw his legs up onto your shoulders, biting down on his neck and making him yours as you unzipped his pants and-

He stood up and started walking, unsure where he was going.

Just anywhere that would get him away from his own thoughts.

While wandering around camp, he looked over and saw you. Smoking at the campfire, stitching up a wound on your thigh.

Against his better judgment, he went down there and struck up some conversation.

Laughing and talking with you into the night.

Hoping that you sharing the thoughts of your mind would be able to erase his thoughts of your body.

But as you talked and talked and brought your cigarette up to your lips,

blowing the smoke out of your nose as your hands smoothly pulled the needle in and out.

He couldn't stop thinking about how much better your lips would look shotgunning him smoke,

how much better that cigarette would burn if you put it out on his neck in front of everybody,

And how much better your hands would feel wrapped around his waist as you pulled him in tight and called him your whore.

He pulled off his hat and dipped his face into his hands, his cheeks heating up as he stole a look from the cracks between his fingers.

And seeing you sprawled back, hearing your breathy gasps when the needle hit especially deep was driving him crazy.

Taking a bottle of whiskey in hand, he cracked it open and took a small sip before your voice piped up.

Asking him for some, saying it was to "take the edge off", and make the pain of stitching your wounds easier.

He walked over to you and you took the bottle, thanking him before drinking some down, and then handing it back to him.

And watching him later take a sip,

quietly eyeing your half-unbuttoned shirt as he rubbed his thighs together,

it seemed like it wasn't the alcohol he was trying to savor.

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Made Arthur horny like a teenager lmao + I have a thing for cigarettes and smoke, okay? Leave me alone about it.

Anyways, ya'll want more? Also I'll write a pt 2 to that sub Dutch story soon, dw.

[ebbpettier]

what do you mean with your hc that simon was always a dragon?

okay so this is one of my deepest most self indulgent headcanons because i'm gay and i think he deserves more and sharper teeth but it's extrapolated from a bunch of different details in the series: 1. we don't know what kind of blood davy used in the ritual. lucy couldn't identify it, but it almost definitely wasn't human. killing a dragon is one of the worst things you can do in the WoM and i really think davy isn't above that, at this point. (in terms of what i think the ritual entailed, i don't think he would have killed an adult dragon, either. a son for a son.) 2. simon's false feather wings dissolved in a bloody mess, but his dragon wings did not. iirc, he also had to wish for them, and penelope pointed out that this is fundamentally Not How Magic Works 3. penny also theorized that simon was actually turning INTO a dragon at the moment he got his wings, unless i'm misremembering again? its been a while since my last reread of the series and i have a memory disorder bear with me 4. "you don't kill a dragon unless you're trying to open a portal to hell" davy what did you do. DAVY, WHAT DID YOU DO. 5. once magic stops working on simon at all/after he loses his magic, the wings don't disappear, which makes me think they weren't powered by magic in the first place; they were just a part of his body. 6. margaret almost immediately (probably falsely but still) identifies him as a Kitten. she straight up thinks he's a baby dragon. maybe he smells like one, or feels like one, but i feel like she would be the most qualified to like ... tell? simon insists he isn't, but she seems confused and even a little put off when he tries to say he isn't just a lost dragon-kit. 7. when he's going off his magic is described as very blistery and prickly and black and red, and he glows and smokes and smells like a forest fire. dragon coded as fuuuuck 8. i think it would fucking rule I've never quite decided if i want it to be dragon ancestry, or if he's some kind of changeling via the ritual*, or something else, but the reason i draw the sword of mages with a fancy hilt shaped like a dragon is because i also headcanon that it looks different for everyone who wields it. (in my Baz Is The Heir AU: he summons it as a spada da lato, light as a feather with a handguard that curls like fire in a windstorm, inset with little sapphires) and simon's just ALWAYS been that dragony. i want him to grow more teeth, and they keep growing so he either has to accept them or have them pulled. i want his nails to be hard and sturdy as iron and he just never notices because he's always used them as tools, and he thought everyone's were like that. he bites them off because they break clippers. i want the red scales around the second set of deltoids (the ones on his wings) to start slowly creeping down his back and over his shoulders over time. because i think it would fucking rule. *i subscribe to this one the most, tho. makes sense. also i feel like the mage WouldTM.

[knot-headed]

kinktober - #9

in public w/ jake lockley x top!male reader kinktober masterlist

Your offer to wait outside is cut short as Jake pulls you through the door before it can shut, the resulting bang! echoing off the walls louder than needed. You slide onto the bench enclosed within the changing room - it’s uncomfortable to sit on but you’d rather sit than attempt to dodge around Jake trying on clothes. He hooks the clothes he had brought in on the hangars on the back of the door, shrugs off his jacket and hands it to you. Your eyes roll, apparently dumping it on the space next to you was too difficult for him, but you take it anyway, half-folding it and placing it down.

He tries on the shirts first and you occasionally chime in with a comment, slightly distracted every time his sculpted torso is revealed. If he notices he doesn’t say anything, checking the appearance of each one in the mirror before trying on the next. He steadily makes his way through each item, sorting them into piles of ones to keep and ones to leave, and when he’s finished he switches to the pants.

A few regular pairs make their way on and off his legs, nothing too noteworthy, but then he picks up a pair that as soon as they slide on, are very form-fitting. They hug his ass tightly, accentuating the perfectly formed globes and Jake knows it, arching his spine slightly to push his ass towards you, and with a barely concealed smirk he turns to you, “What do you think?”

You stand up and step towards him so your hands can reach around to cup the fabric, “They look really good.”

His arms link around your neck and he tilts his head in an innocent look that Jake’s never managed to pull off - you’ve wiped blood off him far too many times to believe it - lips curling into a smirk, “How good?”

Your grip tightens, “It’ll be a shame when I pull these off later.”

Jake scoffs, closing the gap between you to slant his mouth over yours, humming into the kiss when you start to reciprocate. “Why wait until later?” He murmurs, nipping against your lips when he pulls back.

You step back to the bench, twisting and pulling Jake with you so he sits on your lap facing forwards and you can smooth your hands around his waist to drag the zip down, only bothering pulling the pants down far enough until his underwear is revealed and you can pull them down too, stopping when you see what’s nestled between his cheeks.

Running a finger against the plug you grip it to push and pull, smirking when Jake rocks back against you. “I can see why you were so desperate, greedy thing.”

Jake chuckles, always hungry for you. “Thought I’d be prepared just in case,” he remarks, as if he hasn’t spent the entire day intentionally riling you up - fingers barely leaving you alone as they slid up and down your arms, brushing past you closer than necessary just so he can rub his ass against your crotch, purposefully bending over in front of you and sticking his ass out, and now practically giving you your own personal strip tease.

You grip the bulbous plug, slowly pulling it out and tossing it on his jacket (he’ll probably complain about that later). Your fingers quickly replace it, stretching out his slick hole as Jake rolls his hips back, unashamedly groaning into the open air. You don’t really care if anyone else can hear, mind already made up about that state you’ll be leaving Jake in.

He complains as you withdraw your fingers, turning his body and ready to make a comment but his mouth stops as he watches you draw your cock out, spitting on your hand to lubricate your strokes and he’s quick to settle back on your lap, rubbing your shaft between the cleft of his cheeks.

Once you’re fully hard and dripping pearls of pre onto his skin you grab his hips to draw him up, aligning yourself with his hole as Jake sinks down on you, a groan leaving your lips as your cock is swallowed by warmth.

Jake sets the pace, bouncing up and down on you quickly, the messy, wet lube spreading between your bodies and resulting in audible smacks as he takes you to the root, rhythmic moans pouring from his mouth when you rut your hips to match his. Your hand slithers around his waist to curl into a fist around his cock, pumping him in time with his bounces. 

As the minutes pass by, pleasure floods your body at Jake’s movement, now uncontrolled and rapid as he chases his peak, making sure to grind down against you every time your cock knocks against his prostate. He focuses on that spot, using you as if you were just a toy for his pleasure until he’s slamming himself down in your lap with a loud moan, body tensing as his cock pulses in your hand and he paints your knuckles white, ropes of cum streaming down your fingers. 

Rolling your hips as much as you can you continue to fuck him, stretching out his own pleasure as you try to keep climbing your ascending high, the clenching of hole like a vice around you, warm and tight.

Pleasure begins to blur into pain as you overstimulate Jake, although he encourages you to keep going, the masochist in him enjoying it. When you warn that you’re close he moves in time with you, pushing himself back as you push forward to completely suck you in.

With a few more thrusts and some encouraging moans from Jake you’re tipping over the edge, forgetting to quieten your moans as you hold him close with a tight grip around his waist, keeping him pressed against you as your cock jerks in his hole, body enveloped by satisfaction.

You’re not sure how much time passes as you sit there in silence, only able to hear your rapid breathing as you both fight to come down, orgasm still fizzing in your blood as the last of your spend dribbles out, Jake pumping his body back a few times to make sure you’re drained.

Drawing your hips back so your cock slips out you watch as cum slowly oozes from him, two fingers quickly scooping up the drooling cum to push it back into his clenching hole while your other hand searches for the plug, humming in satisfaction as once it’s placed against his rim it’s swallowed easily with little resistance, keeping your cum locked inside.

With a pat on his ass Jake is standing on shaky legs, one arm resting against the wall to balance himself as he struggles with getting dressed, mumbling curses no doubt directed at you in Spanish under his breath. Once you’re tucked away and looking presentable you lean over to help, shimmying up the layers and kissing away the disgruntled look on his face.

Opening the door you both step out carrying a pile of clothes each. Jake takes a few testing steps before you’re following by alongside him, “So you think I should get these?”

You tuck him into your side, “Absolutely.”

[straykids-97]

Ego

Part one of the Who Are You saga, inspired by Mingi’s infamous ‘Who are you?’ From Halazia 🫶🏻

‘Ego is nothing other than the focus of conscious attention.’

Synopsis: Wooyoung and San finally convinces you to try something new… and you quickly discover that it’s very taboo…

Warnings: hard Dom! Wooyoung, pleasure switch! San, sub!reader, Dom/sub dynamics, bxfxb, implied bxb, voyerism/ exhibitionism, unprotected sex, use of bondage equipment, impact play(Wooyoung smacks)

Word Count: 3.4k

You had met Jung Wooyoung first; his boisterous voice and golden retriever behavior are what drew you to him in the first place. You were quiet, shy; and he was equally drawn to you for that very reason. 

Wooyoung liked the quiet ones. 

It didn’t take long before you met his best friend; Choi San. He was like Wooyoung in the manner that he too was loud. But, he like you, was shy as well. It took a while to get him to open up to you, and vice versa. Now, you three were inseparable. 

Well, virtually, in thought. 

The only thing that could split you up would be their impending tour; one that they would be away for, at least, four months. But, none of you wanted to think about that. You had a few weeks before that even happened, and all you wanted to think about was the sun shining on your face and San curled up into your side as you lay with Wooyoung on the grass. 

You were idly playing with the ends of San’s hair, and he was peacefully dozing in the crook of your arm. Face planted on your breast as he snoozed away. Your head was resting on Wooyoung’s thigh as he read a book, I’ll Be Right There, a book recommended to him by Hongjoong. You peeked up at Wooyoung, looking at his usually smooth features. Currently, his eyebrows were knitted together in concentration, hidden partially by his glasses that were sliding down the bridge of his nose. You reach up with the hand you were using to run through San’s hair to push them up and he blinks a few times, startled at the movement. A cheeky grin spreads across his face, “y/n-ah, what are you doing?” He teases, nudging you playfully. You smile back at him, stopping when San pulls you tighter into his chest, grumbling in his sleep. “Oh, whoops. Sorry, Sannie.” You return to the motions of running your fingers through his short hair and he settles back into your arm, resting once again. “Poor baby, can’t be disturbed.” Wooyoung snorts, making you giggle. 

You decide that you could live the rest of your life just like this. 

You giggle at Wooyoung as he drunkenly tries to rid himself of his jeans. He stumbles, holding onto your table for balance. San stands, half undressed, one leg out of his pants and the other bare, looking rather proud. 

A night of drinking led to the boys staying the night, something that you were used to. 

San heaved a hefty sigh before leaning against the wall again, kicking his leg free vigorously, “San-hyung,” Wooyoung began to chastise as San leaned onto one of your side tables for stability, “Be careful!” You hold San’s elbow just as he manages to kick his foot free. He gives you a sweet drunken smile, “Thank you-u-u!” He draws out the ‘U’, singing it slightly as he begins to remove his white shirt. You start to laugh but stop when you hear a chair clatter to the floor. You and San turn to see Wooyoung on the floor, looking startled. There was silence for a few moments until Wooyoung burst into laughter, you and San following right behind. 

“Hey!” San announces, raising his hands above his head in triumph for his friend, “You got your pants off!” You join in with San as Wooyoung manages to get to his feet, bowing and nearly toppling over yet again. “Thank you! Thank you, no need to con-congratulate me!” He slurs, yanking his black shirt off with ease, “I did it myself.” You laugh at them as they wander into your apartment, gathering their shed clothes as they flop onto your couch. They begin to bicker about the TV remote as you toss their clothes into the washer and start it; not before pulling their wallets and phones out. 

You enter the kitchen to gather up water bottles and saunter back into the living area to find them both staring at the screen, engrossed in whatever it was that they put on. You smile, handing them their drinks and flopping between them. “Drink this,” you tell them, “you’ll feel better in the morning.” San immediately opens the water and begins to drink the water, “Wooyoung-ie,” San demands, “listen to y/n! She’s looking after your health.” Wooyoung grumbles as he looks over at you, frowning and narrowing his eyes. “Why are you dressed still? San and I are basically naked.” He waved his hand over your body. 

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Wooyoung!” You slap his arm, making him whine, “Ow.” 

“Don’t pressure her into down dressing, Wooyoung.” San frowns at his friend, “Well, she’s more dressed.” Wooyoung pouted. You look down at yourself, and without thinking, stand up and pull your shirt off, flop down, and kick your pants off. San cheers, “Yeah! Join the party!” 

Wooyoung didn’t say anything; he gripped his water so hard that he spilled it. 

The next morning Wooyoung woke up before San and entered your room as you brushed your teeth. You nearly jump out of your skin when you see him lean against your bathroom doorframe. “Woo,” you hold your chest and turn to look at him, spitting your toothpaste out. “I didn’t know you were awake.” He blinks at you, he doesn’t respond. “Woo?” You frown, leaning over and rinsing your mouth out. You lean back and see that he’s standing right behind you, making you whirl around in shock. 

“Woo-” You start to say, but stop when he takes a step toward you. Normal joking, playful Wooyoung was gone. You had never seen this side of him before and you didn’t know if it scared you or- 

You couldn’t think straight as his face neared yours, his breath fanning across your cheeks as he eyed you. “Why’d you go to your bed last night, y/n?” His voice was low. It almost sounded rhetorical. “Uh- because there wasn’t room-” You stop talking when he cocks his head to the side, “because-” He blinks lazily at you, his eyes darkening with an emotion you hadn’t ever seen before. 

Lust. 

“Don’t lie, baby.” He murmurs, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, continuing on, “I can tell when you lie.” Wooyoung’s eyes bounce over your face, watching for the minute emotions on your face to detect the truth. “Now tell me again,” he tilted his chin up, looking down his nose at you, “I-” you stutter before clearing your throat. “I didn’t want to make it awkward so I went to bed.” 

“Alone?” You feebly nod at his question. He frowns at you, tutting his tongue, “you should have asked us to come with you. San would have loved to cuddle you, you know.” With that, he takes a step back and you feel like you can breathe again. “Tonight, when we get done with practice. Meet us for dinner.” He says, eyeing you once more before leaving you alone in your bathroom. You stand there, utterly baffled at his actions, but something makes your skin flush hot. 

And you weren’t sure what it was that made you listen to him. 

Just as their practice ended for the day, you messaged them and asked where to meet for dinner. San told you the usual spot; a BBQ place that wasn’t far from their company that they enjoyed. 

You felt anxious as you slipped your shoes on and began the trek over to the usual spot. You could have driven and it would have taken less time, but you wanted to walk to calm down. 

You enter the establishment, greeting the older man who owned the place and requesting your usual spot in the corner by the window. The man immediately obliged and guided you to the back, “Are your friends joining?” You quickly nod your head, “Yes. I should probably ask when they’ll be here.” You admit sheepishly. The older man smiled down at you, “Ah, no rush! They’ll arrive when they feel like it.” He waves you off and you giggle as he walks away. 

However, his words don’t stop you from still messaging the group chat to find where they were. Just as you finished typing out the message you heard San yell your name from across the mostly empty restaurant, “y/n-ah!” He sounded chipper than normal. 

Your head snaps up to him, and see him frantically waving you down, a bright smile splattered over his face. You can’t help but mirror him, your anxiety instantly melting away as you stand and he wraps his arms around you, “Sannie!” You beam as he picks you up, “How was practice?” You ask as Wooyoung joins you, also hugging you. “Hard.” San sighs, sliding into the booth, “We’re blocking a new choreo,” he waves his hand as he drags the water cup toward him. You slid into the booth, Wooyoung waiting until you were settled before also joining you both in the booth. 

You all chat as dinner commences, every little worry you had disappearing as the meal continues. 

As usual, you all stayed so long that you were the only group left and the owner eventually had to tell you guys to leave, like usual. You all sheepishly leave, but San pouts, “We’re off tomorrow, can’t we come over for a little bit?” You can’t tell him no- you’ve never been able to when he juts out that bottom lip. 

You sigh, “Yes. But don’t mind the mess. I haven’t properly cleaned since last week.” You waggle your finger and he links his arm with yours, resting his head on yours, “I don’t mind. Do you, Woo?” 

“Not at all.” Wooyoung links his arm through your other arm and you all walk arm and arm down the street. The 15-minute walk feels like nothing now that you have company, and you almost forget what happened this morning. But as soon as you enter the safety of your apartment, and San closes the door, the mood changes. 

You feel suffocated again, but you try to ignore it as you kick your shoes off, “I found a new movie we could watch.” You being, trying to diffuse the feeling that currently surrounded you all. “What’s it called?” San asked, his voice sounding deeper than normal. You turn to look at him to find him a few feet away, his warm eyes regarding you carefully. As if he was watching you, preying on you as if you were a small rabbit and he a fox. Your eyes bounce to Wooyoung, who was pulling his jacket off, and hanging it up by the door. 

You clear your throat and look away, “Um. I forgot it’s on my list to watch though.” You say, shuffling to your living room, desperately trying to get some space to think clearly. You click on the TV and scroll through the various different streaming services until you find the one you are talking about. “I was wanting to watch it last night, but you guys were too drunk.” You giggle nervously.

That seemed to break the damn that was holding Wooyoung back. 

“I wasn’t too drunk. I still remember a lot,” he counters, coming to sit on your couch. “Like you going to bed alone…” 

“Yeah,” San adds, making you whirl to see him barely a foot away. You gulp; the look in his eyes is unmistakable. “I could have held you…” He trails off, implying that there is more on his mind. “And?” Your voice is barely audible. “And?” Wooyoung pried, making you turn to look at him. You felt like you were spinning in circles with these two. 

“Is there more you wanted to happen, y/n?” San asked, making you shift and look into his eyes. He pressed his chest against your back, moving your hair behind your ear, “Having dirty dreams about me, baby?” He purred. 

Your mouth falls open and you nearly drop your remote. “Wh-what? No-” You start but you freeze as Wooyoung rises to his feet and he approaches you, pinning you between his and San’s chests. “Don’t lie, y/n,” Wooyoung warns. You shudder as Wooyoung’s fingers ghost down your sides. Your mind was whirling, “I-I,” you can’t form a coherent string of thoughts as their hands paw and grope all over you. 

Your skin felt hot, like you had been drinking and the liquor was starting to get to you. “Look at her,” Wooyoung leaned in, biting his lip, “she’s all flustered. It’s so sweet.” San took a deep breath as he held your hips, pulling you against him. You gasped, feeling just how much he was enjoying this. “San,” your voice is husky, and it causes him to groan into your hair. “Woo,” he moans, biting your ear. You shudder as Wooyoung steps away, “She’s just so- fuck.” He grunts as Wooyoung pulls his shirt off, wiggling his finger at you. “Strip.” 

You gawk at him, “Strip?” Wooyoung doesn’t look amused that you parroted his question. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” You slowly start to take your clothes off, glancing over your shoulder to find San only in his underwear. You would have giggled at him any other time, but this wasn’t one of those times. Containing a shudder, you bite your lip turning back to Wooyoung just as you peel your pants off. 

“Good girl,” He gestures to the couch, “Sit.” You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of your couch, watching Wooyoung and San like a hawk. They share a look and Wooyoung nods to you, “You go first.” 

First? 

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as San kneels before you, basically drooling as he places his hands on your knees. “God-” he groans, spreading your legs slightly, “I’ve been dreaming of this day.” You nearly choke on air as he places a wet, sloppy kiss on your inner thigh. 

Your head was spinning again, drunk on the feeling of San between your thighs. And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, Wooyoung sits beside you, wrapping his arm over your shoulders. “He’s good at foreplay…” He chuckles, biting his lip as he looks at you. “And I like to watch… If you don’t mind.” His cool fingertips cause you to jolt as his fingers dance along the skin of your exposed chest and stomach. 

He was distracting you from San as his mouth inched closer and closer to your drenched panties. Your eyes snap to him as San’s thumb runs up your slit, causing you to arch your back. “San!” You cry out, tears of pleasure prickling your eyes. You were overstimulated but in the best way. 

You hated to admit that, even when all they did was work you up at this point. What would it feel like when they finally did do something-

You gasp as San moves your panties to the side, groaning as he taps your wet core. “She’s so wet, Woo.” Wooyoung grunts, his eyes meeting yours as his cold fingers dance down your stomach again, pausing their circuit long enough to join San’s fingers as they played with your cunt. Your legs quiver slightly as San fingers you softly and Wooyoung rubs your clit. Both men are groaning, one in your ear and the other as he watches your wet pussy with a hungry gaze. 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, San bats Wooyoungs hand away from your clit and latches his mouth to it instead. You gasp, going to reach for his hair. 

But Wooyoung is faster, lifting your leg up and holding it in place as he simultaneously grabs your wrists. The crook of his elbow held the back of your knee prisoner, not only keeping you from moving, but giving San better access to your weeping cunt. 

“Fuck!” You cry out, writhing as much as you can in your limited movement. Wooyoung let go of your hands long enough to slap your tit, “Enough!” He hissed, “Stop moving or San will stop.” San pulled away, “I’d hate to do that, I’m enjoying it so-” He stopped as he relatched to your swollen clit. 

You groan, biting your lip to contain the wail of pleasure that threatened to rip through you as San inserted another finger, curling upward to hit that gooey spot. Your eyes roll and your mouth falls open, Wooyoung takes the opportunity to latch his mouth to yours, muttering a quick, “Cum for us.” 

You oblige. 

You tense, your complete body washing with the most fierce orgasm you have ever experienced in your entire life. The only thing keeping you from screaming was Wooyoung’s mouth. 

You shudder as San pulls away, holding his fingers out for Wooyoung as he rises to his feet. “My turn,” Wooyoung slides off the couch, and San swaps places, grabbing your jaw and wrapping his lips around yours. You were too distracted by San’s plump lips to notice that Wooyoung wasn’t going to use his mouth to pleasure you as San had.

You feel the tip of Wooyoung’s cock rub you, causing you to gasp and look at him. San chuckles huskily, “This is my favorite part,” San groans, lapping your ear as Wooyoung pushes into you. You gasped, holding onto Wooyoung’s wrists as he pushed your knees up to your chest. San held one of your legs, and one of your hands as he used the other to rub quick fast circles on your clit. You gasped, not realizing that San had manhandled you into his lap until he spoke into your ear, “You’re not gonna walk for a few days after we’re done with you.” 

You whimper as Wooyoung pounds into you, fast, oh so fast. You squeal as an orgasm stuns you, causing them both to moan as San slaps your clit, causing you to shriek in surprise. San manipulated your head back so that he placed a sloppy wet kiss on your mouth. You whimper at his tongue, which still tastes like you, danced with yours. 

Your cheeks and neck were flushed; these two were so overwhelming, in every sense of the word.

Wooyoung never ceases his impossible pace, whimpering slightly, pounding harder. Your toes begin to curl as the sensation of yet another orgasm threatens to overtake you, but before it can, Wooyoung pulls out and sprays cum across your thighs and ass. You gasp, staring down at the mess. He takes a few moments to gather himself before San maneuvers you up, freeing his strained cock. You gasp as Wooyoung helps guide San’s cock into you. You throw your head back, Wooyoung was longer, but San had girth. 

You gasp at the sensation of spit landing on your clit, and you look up to see Wooyoung watching your pussy with a wicked glint in his eye. He watched as his spit leaked down to where San plunged into you. Your mind goes blank; San was deep inside you, a completely different sensation from Wooyoung. 

You pant as Wooyoung’s thumb draws slow, deep circles over your clit. You don’t know where to hold, San’s wrist, Wooyoung’s, or the back of your legs. “Fuck- fuck!” You cry out as San suddenly snaps his hips into yours in quick succession. An intense orgasm rips through you, and you almost jump away, but San and Wooyoung’s hands keep you firm in place. Wooyoung chuckles as San whines, “How could you last so long?” He grunts, burying his face in your neck. “I barely did. Seems like we need to get used to her tight, little-” He stops talking when another orgasm barrels through you. “God!” you scream, San’s hand slapping over your mouth before your neighbors called the cops over a noise complaint. “She’s gonna get us into trouble, Sannie.” Wooyoung sighs, and San takes that as to hurry it along cuz his hips pick up pace. And after finding a rhythm, he caused you to cum twice more before doing the same. 

The three of you pant, lying on the couch. You were lying on Wooyoung, and San was lying on you. San made invisible patterns along your hip and thigh as Wooyoung played with your hair. “As much as I would love to lay here all night,” Wooyoung sighs, “But the stench of sex is starting to get pungent. We should shower.” 

San looks up at Wooyoung, “Round two?”

©️straykids-97

[mycupofrum]

Hi!! Heres a drabble prompt if you are still taking them 😊

Sirius/James and a lazy weekend morning together ❤️

Hi!! 😊 Thank you for the lovely prompt! 💞 This is a slice of life drabble where they get to be happy and just enjoy life for once. Here's James and Sirius spending a lazy weekend morning together. Nsfw.

Rating: M

__

Husband

The white and grey curtains before the balcony are parted, exposing a blue lake and a mountainous view in the soft hues of the morning light. Everything is quiet, save for the panting that fills the air.

Sirius's hips buckle up as the hot mouth sucking him off beneath the cover brings him to his climax. His back arches, and he clenches the sheets, a million stars exploding in his mind.

Ecstatic, he comes down slowly, still shivering when James's head emerges from beneath the blanket, his hair sticking everywhere even more than usual.

The hazel eyes appear bigger without the glasses, and he licks his lips, wearing a smug grin.

"How's that for a wake-up?"

Sirius huffs a laugh and rubs the sleep away from his eyes. "Very pleasurable."

They look at each other, grinning like idiots.

"Good morning, husband," James says softly, reaching down to kiss Sirius on the lips.

"Mm, morning."

It still sounds incredible. Less than 24 hours ago, they said "I do" in a beautiful ceremony in the Scottish Highlands and celebrated well into the night with their loved ones before taking a portkey to a small village by Lake Garda, Italy to start their honeymoon.

Sirius bites his lower lip as he reaches to stroke James's hair. "I can't believe I got to marry my best friend."

It's all a bit ridiculous how giddy he can be. They've both just entered their 40s. Who knew you could begin a whole new chapter at this stage of life?

A few years ago, they found themselves single at the same time. They brushed shoulders more often, their gazes lingering and mouths curling into secret smiles. They did have some hurdles to work out, but Sirius finally stopped fearing and expecting the worst when James made a shaky and heartfelt confession that he couldn’t imagine life without Sirius, and they found the happiness they always had the potential for.

"What would you like to do today?"

"It's Saturday. I want to spend the day in bed with my husband."

"You just love saying 'husband'." Sirius grins as he runs his hand across James's back. Truth be told, he loves that word, too. "But we're in Italy. We should have breakfast and go see some sights."

"Mm. Later." James nuzzles his face in the crook of Sirius's neck, lying on top of him like a heated blanket. "I preordered breakfast from room service last night. It should be here at 9am."

A quick glance at the clock on the wall says it's only 8:30.

"You thought of everything, hm?" Sirius feels James's hard-on pressing against his hips. "Well, in that case…" He rolls them over quickly, eliciting a surprised laugh from James when his head hits the mattress.

"I think I know how to pass the time in the meanwhile." Sirius stares down at James, his elbows on either side of his head.

James smirks as he curls his hands around Sirius's hips, drawing tiny circles with his thumbs on his skin.

"Would you care to show me?"

"With pleasure." Sirius nips James's neck before smoothing the skin with a lick. "Husband."

It's James's turn to pant and moan, when Sirius kisses his way downwards along his body, leaving no sensitive spot unexplored.

It isn’t until late afternoon when they make it out of their room, ready to start the day as a newly married couple.

__

[hellhunde]

OC Kiss Week Day 1: Almost

hehehehe Very excited to draw some oc kissies this week! Starting off with Sage and Fable my Lovelies.

Also going to try to write little things for all of them, but we'll see!!

“I’m working right now, Sage,” Fable whispered through her teeth. Sage inched up to her closer, clearly not deterred at all by Fable’s words.

“I know,” Sage replied, the corners of their mouth perked up in a devilish smile. “But no one ever comes to this part of the garden, and there's tons of trees so no one’ll see if we kiss a little bit.”

Sage got up on their tip toes and pressed their chest against Fable’s, pinning the rake she had been using between them. She sighed. 

Fable did want to kiss Sage, her body heating up at the mere proximity to them, but now really wasn't the best time. If they were caught she'd be fired by Sage’s parents and forced to leave Bottomwood Pine. Normally that wouldn't bother her—Fable liked to wander—but she’d been making an honest effort to stay in town longer, just for the annoying little dork who was trying so hard to kiss them at present. She wanted to be with them so dearly, and didn't want to cut their relationship short. It was really too much to risk. 

And yet…

“If I kiss you once will you leave me to work?” Fable said, losing the battle in her mind. Sage was close enough now that she could feel their breath on their face.

“I can't promise I won't want more…” Sage said, grabbing onto the front of Fable’s shirt. Their half lidded eyes met Fable’s 

Fable wasn't falling for that though. 

“Sage.”

“Fine, whatever, sure,” Sage huffed, any earlier air of trying to be sexy gone. “fuck me for wanting to have some fun.” 

Fable closed her eyes and tilted her head down to meet Sage’s lips. She was fully prepared for Sage to make this much longer than the peck Fable intended it to be.”

“SAGE!!”

Fable flinched back at the sound of Sage’s father’s voice, the ghost of a kiss on her lips. Her heart stopped for a moment, scared that he had saw them, before registering that it was much farther away. Sage took a step back and groaned loudly into the open air. 

“Sage! Your mother and I want to talk to you!” His voice rang out again.

“UUUUUUUGH, this is bullshit,” Sage complained. They scratched their head rapidly in annoyance. Fable smiled, despite the lingering anxiety.

“Better go see what Bill wants,” she said. Another aggravated growl from Sage. Fable bent forward and kissed Sage on top of their head in the soft curls of their hair. Sage relaxed a little, and turned back to Fable.. “I’ll meet you by the lake tonight, we can continue this there.

“Okay…” Sage sighed, before turning away, leaving Fable back to her work.

[pedgito]

yay congrats on 1k!!! can i request “who’s going to stop us, huh?” with eddie <3

maybe with the goody two shoes!reader if the trope helps, if not tHATS OKAY <33

author's note: for my 1k celebration. this wasn't where i originally intended for this to go, but this is just a look inside my thoughts at 7 in the morning as i wrote this, forgive me.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), fem!reader, innocent!reader (sort of), fingering, eddie being a wonderful and adorable boyfriend

word count: 1.5k

Eddie twirled the frilly material of your pristine, pink bow around his finger, a little strand of your hair getting caught. He laughs softly, smoothing out the perfectly curled ponytail, admiring the way your cheeks blush a deep shade of red, the heat of his breath ghosting over the back of your neck.

No matter how hard you tried, you always ended up in these situations. 

Eddie was a terribly bad influence—always getting you in trouble with your parents, getting you to skip glass, god forbid your grades drop, which luckily they hadn’t, but they were on that very thin teetering line and you were fed up. Fed up.

But, then you looked at him and you couldn’t help it. 

He was the reminder you needed, to not take everything so seriously, allow yourself to breathe, think, and do something for yourself for once. He had, essentially, ruined all other men for you. No one compared, not even Jason.

“Did you pass that big test you were so worried about?” Eddie speaks softly, his chest pressed against your back, head tilted over your shoulder. He hovered, so desperate to always have a hand on you. You loved it.

“Mhmm.” You acknowledge, fingers dancing across his hand that was resting against your hip, dipping underneath the cute, white button up you had worn that day. “How did your English paper turn out?”

He whips the schoolwork from his pocket, unfolding it in front of you. “Solid C minus, can’t complain.” He tells you, a smile evident in his voice. He tosses the flimsy paper to the side, having only held onto it to show you, in hopes you might be willing to reward him for such diligent work. “You’re wearing the skirt again.” He comments absently, hands exploring lower, twisting the material in his fingers. 

Luckily, you two had enough privacy here, in the wooded area where he did most of his after school deals. Otherwise, people might start getting the wrong idea—not that it wasn't obvious what you two were getting up to. Eddie was definitely aiming to get somewhere, but you weren’t too confident that you could meet him halfway. 

“I am.” You agree, crossing one leg over the other, the laces of your white converse knocking together as you leaned back into him. “What’s the big deal?”

Eddie chuckles darkly, deft hand sliding between your thighs, wedged between where they had been crossed. Eddie was determined, not one to let up too easily. You really couldn’t find it in yourself to argue, either. But, you did have things to worry about. The idea of someone walking up on you two, in such a compromising position—it was mortifying.

“Eddie,” You whine in protest, watching the skin on his hand flex over his knuckles, his fingers digging gently into your thigh. All you have to do is part them…just a smidge, “we can’t.”

“Who’s gonna stop us, huh?” Eddie challenges, your legs parting easily, falling victim to his delicate touches, hand trailing up the inside of your thigh, ghosting over the thin material of your underwear. “No one comes out here.”

“You say that—“ You say on an exhale, hands planted on either side of Eddie’s legs, struggling to hold yourself upright with the pressure he was pressing against your already soaking wet cunt. He was teasing, like the menace he was, not daring to slip a hand under the fabric. 

“I know it.” He whispers into your ear, a single digit dragging up and against your covered clit, drawing a soft gasp from your chest.

“Eddie.” You protest again, words hanging on your tongue but never leaving, the heat in your lower abdomen growing as he finally, finally dipped a finger inside your underwear, running through your folds.

“Hey,” He shushes, “You’ve been so worked up and worried, let me do this.” And you have, he’s seen it. All month you’ve been nothing but a giant ball of stress, taut and ready to explode at any minor inconvenience. You never had time like this anymore, always shoving your face into a book or another pile of homework you had to finish before the day was over. 

He just wanted to take care of you. 

“Okay,” You sigh quietly, breath hitching as he dipped a finger inside of you, curling slightly as he dragged his thumb over your clit, moving in small, gentle circles, “just be careful.”

“Always am, aren’t I?” He says, brushing your bangs away from your ear, kissing gently at the tip of your ear, his fingers doing all the dirty things you wanted his mouth to do to you. 

You nod jerkily, moaning out as he dipped a second finger inside, hands grasping the wood of the picnic table, leaning further into Eddie’s chest. He laughs, shifting to help keep you upright, his movements inside of you never faltering. You gasped, a high pitched whine as he hit that delicate sweet spot inside of you.

“Eddie,” You sound desperate, a broken sob leaving you mouth as he picks up his pace, “feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He’s so fucking smug all the time, “Pussy feels so good around my fingers, bet it would feel even better around my—“

“Eddie.” Your tone is more forceful, a warning. You two hadn’t even had sex yet, it was one of the main rules you had for yourself, at least until you’ve managed to get through the semester with perfect grades, then you could allow yourself that one, very simple indulgence. And you wanted Eddie, so badly that it hurt. He understood, too—he didn’t ever seem upset about it, but he was attracted to you, in every way possible. So, could you really blame him?

And if his hands and mouth were this good, you weren’t sure how you would be able to keep it together when you finally had the chance to take him fully, the feeling of his dick pressed against your back already intimidating enough. 

“Sorry, princess.” He apologizes, picking up his pace gradually. He focuses his attention on your swollen, sensitive clit—watching the way your body jerks slightly, on the brink of another blissful orgasm at the hands of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. “Just thinking.”

You still couldn’t grasp how or why Eddie had taken any interest in you at all, you didn’t feel special. But, Eddie made it very clear that you were so much more than what you saw yourself as. 

You moan out, feeling yourself clinch around his fingers, your arm desperately coming up to wrap around his neck from behind, pulling at his jacket, his hair, anything. You felt like you were finally going to explode now, all that pent up stress and anxiety at its tipping point.

“It’s okay,” He murmurs, your shoes planted against the seat of the table, rutting up against his hand. You were red with embarrassment, feeling meek at how badly you wanted this, “enjoy it, sweetheart. You deserve it.” 

And you do. You do fucking deserve it.

You cry out, bound to attract attention—some few black crows scurrying away from their branches at the sound, Eddie’s hand flying up to cover your mouth as you ride out your orgasm against his hand, hips chasing his fingers as he held on tight, waiting until you were finally still to let go. 

“That never gets old.” Eddie laughs softly, wiping his wet fingers on the black handkerchief that hung from his pocket, helping you situate yourself more comfortably, your underwear feeling sticky and cold now, Eddie’s hand no longer providing the warmth you needed. “I didn’t take you for a screamer.”

You swat Eddie on the arm, pointing a painted nail in his face, “What did we talk about?” You ask petulantly, waiting for him to answer. A grin breaks out over his face.

“No distractions until the semester is over.” He tells you, sounding entirely too flippant about it. “But hey, you weren’t saying no.”

You sigh, giving up. He was right, you couldn’t resist him, not like this. 

“All that Eddie, Eddieee,” He mocks playfully, imitating your soft moans, “seems like you were enjoying yourself, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Oh, don’t even go there,” You warned Eddie, knowing exactly where your mind was going, “have you forgotten what you sound like with your dick in my mouth?”

And it really shouldn’t turn Eddie on, the way you speak so openly and raw about it, it was like hearing you curse, something that was just as much of a rarity as this. 

Eddie holds his hand up in defeat, surrendering to your deadly gaze. You smile triumphantly, giving him a chaste peck on his lips. “Now, get me home before my parents decide to give me another lecture about you.”

Eddie nods dutifully, two fingers coming up to his forehead in salute. “As you wish, princess.” 

And truly, you couldn’t resist the gloriously peeved off expression your parents had whenever you’re loud, head banging, rock music loving boyfriend dropped you off to your house everyday, feeling their blood boil just a little hotter.