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#like i would have appreciated just a little bit of wolf in there as a treat but its so overpowering...
gaydogmarriage · 4 months
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it fucks me up that cyno has such a strong wolf motif that it suppresses the (more inspiration-accurate) jackal/dog motif. like i actually kinda appreciate the blending together of multiple different canines bc even mythology is often blurry about the distinction of similar but different animals and having both a wild jackal and a domestic dog motif to play with is fun, but the wolf is sooo forced in there. they even went as far as to replace the canis in canis aureus (scientific name of the golden jackal) with lupus. hijacked the dog to make it wolf instead. wolves are also in the canis genus it's fine!!!!!! it's all canis!! always has been!!!!!!!!!!
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withleeknow · 4 months
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Lee Minho/Know + “quit it or i’ll bite.” + “do it. i dare you.” + suggestive
Thank you if you take this request!!! Up to you who's doing the biting :)
feline tendencies. (m)
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pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, suggestive (probably a teeny bit more than suggestive), minors dni; practically dry humping, biting kink??, mimo's pecs (yes they deserve their own warning) word count: 0.9k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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"quit it or i'll bite," minho grumbles, wriggling away from you in an attempt to ward your paws off him. "jesus, what's gotten into you?"
"i wish you would," you mutter, crawling toward him again to lay your head on him once more. the man is reading his book, just trying to enjoy his saturday afternoon and yet there's a menace quite literally in his lap, making grabby hands at him. disrupting his peace and quiet, though that's not really anything new.
"insatiable," minho tsks, his fingers carding through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp as he makes an effort to appease you. his attention is then promptly returned to the pages in front of him.
that's how your weekends are usually spent - lounging about, being lazy together, relaxing by each other's side.
you're just acting up today.
your twitchy fingers have a mind of their own. they dance up his stomach, over his abs until they reach their desired destination.
you place your entire hand over one of his pecs and squeeze, giggling to yourself when you feel his skin under your palm. this earns you a glare though it doesn't faze you.
minho may be scary to other people, but never when he's with you. it's just physically impossible, even if he wanted to.
"seriously, what is with you?"
you give his chest another tender squeeze. "boobs," you say simply. you think that's a pretty good explanation.
maybe you're no better than a man after all.
so it started a couple of weeks ago.
minho rarely skips going to the gym and while you are eternally grateful for it, you must admit that sometimes it drives you a little crazy. you respect his commitment, the consistency of his workout regimen (this could never be you, but that's beside the point); it's one of the traits that you admire most about him - he sees things through and adheres to the schedule that he makes for himself. minho doesn't half-ass the things he does or ditches them when he's feeling a little lazy (unlike you).
however...
it's this same dedication to his routine that's been sending you into a frenzy. lately, your boyfriend has been focused on working a particular area of his body and honestly? it's making you spiral more than you have ever spiraled.
chest. who knew it would be your downfall?
when minho came home last evening straight from the gym, you swear you almost passed out the second he walked through the door. his pecs looked especially good even under his shirt that you practically salivated, shamelessly ogling him like a hungry wolf.
minho sighs as if he's at his wits' end with you, though this time, he lets you continue feeling him up. "you wouldn't like it if i did the same thing to you, now would you?"
"actually, i think i would like that very much."
"i will bite you, no joke."
you have no doubt that he actually would. but again, that isn't something that you would been entirely opposed to either. you might be one of the only people on planet earth who can handle lee minho.
"your feline tendencies are jumping out," you comment, your hand still on his chest, alternating between playful pokes and full on kneading his pecs like dough. "do it. i dare you."
minho bares his teeth at you in the cat-like way that he sometimes does. it's cute, oh so cute.
before you know it, the book is haphazardly flung onto the carpeted floor (bookmark be damned) and your boyfriend is forcing a yelp from your lips when he practically pounces on you. your head is no longer on his lap; instead, he's got you pinned underneath him, his hips flushed against yours.
you can feel him through his sweats. delectable.
minho leans in until his lips ghost over yours. "stop testing me," he murmurs.
"stop tempting me," you shoot back.
"but i'm not though?"
"your boobs are."
"my god." he lowers his head to your neck, his soft lips brushing against your exposed skin as he chuckles. "that's not what they are."
"they might as well be. they're gonna be bigger than mine one day."
the sound coming from his mouth morphs into a laugh, airy and completely defeated by your words. "god, you're just so..."
"i'm so what?"
"weird," minho says.
you smile. "perfect for you then, aren't i?"
"mhmm."
then he's closing the gap between his mouth and your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as he rolls his hips against your body, spreading your legs open so he could slot between them more comfortably, so he could fit against you perfectly.
"oh," you gasp when he ruts forward, presses himself into the warmth between your thighs, over your shorts and his sweats. you weave your fingers through his hair to keep his head close to your neck as if he has any intention on moving elsewhere. minho continues to kiss and lick at your skin, nibbling on it gently in alternation.
"i thought..." you breathe out heavily, your body starting to move against his too, "thought you promised to bite me."
"promised? it was more of a threat, wasn't it?"
"same difference."
you can't see him, but you can just bet that minho is rolling his eyes. then, you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck like he's deciding where the best spot would be. he presses his hard pecs tightly against yours as his mouth closes in. you almost fall apart right then and there.
well, this certainly awakened something in you, didn't it?
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 20.01.2024]
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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1fur1 Price part 2
(Sorry if this isn’t, like, spectacular. It’s been a minute since I wrote for this au)
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The house is getting an upgrade. Two wolf dogs was a cozy situation, but manageable. The addition of a third, especially one as big as Konig, was pushing it. Like, really pushing it.
Now that Skipper has adopted himself into the family…
Not that you mind, of course. Skipper has been a bit of a blessing in furry disguise. You know that “Alpha Dog” dynamics aren’t an actual Thing with wolves, but if they were, you think Skipper would be it.
He must have some sort of shepherd in his blood because he wrangles the rest of the boys masterfully. They spend too long in the yard, he’s barking and nipping and rounding them up. Johnny’s being too insistent about “sharing” your food, he’s inserting himself between you two. Ghost and Johnny get rambunctious, he’ll tolerate it for a couple minutes but then he’s breaking it up with a grumble — especially if they’re acting up inside.
You appreciate the help.
It’s not that the boys don’t listen to you. They do! With almost perfect obedience. But it can still be overwhelming to keep an eye on everyone all the time.
“Oh darling, why is it always you?” you sigh, scratching at Konig’s chin. Receive a whine in return.
Your poor sensitive guy. Stepped on a bee in the yard, it seems. The vet cooed over him, gave him some meds, and now he’s all but collapsed in an anxiety-exhausted heap by the fireplace.
Johnny is pacing behind you, making upset noises and nosing at your elbow.
“I know you’re worried, bud,” you soothe over your shoulder. “He’s alright.”
You’re working a sock over Konig’s bandages so that he doesn’t pick at them. Johnny takes that as an invitation to insert himself into the mix, bumping into your shoulder hard. Your hand pushes into konig’s paw as you catch your balance and he yelps. The noise surprises you, scares you, hands jerking back.
Skipper is on him in an instant, teeth on his scruff and yanking him away from you and Konig. For once, Johnny resists, yelping and whining crying.
“Jesus, enough!” You raise your voice a bit to be heard over all the canine yelling. Get a hand in Skipper’s scruff and give him a shake. “Release.”
He does, though not without an indignant growl, twisting around to glare at you. You didn’t even know dogs could glare with so much indignation.
“What are you gonna do, bite me?” you challenge, hand still buried in his fur. “Grow up.”
You turn to Johnny, who’s making a great show of looking pathetic, tail down and ears back.
“Got to bed,” you instruct, pointing with your other hand to the cushion Ghost is on. Those two are thick as thieves, you’re sure Johnny will feel better after some cuddles. Sure enough, Johnny drags his feet over to ghost, who grumbles as he makes room for the other dog.
You let Skipper go, who makes a big scene of shaking off. But he doesn’t go making trouble with Johnny, so you let him be. Which leaves Konig, who isn’t making eye contact with anyone.
“You alright, baby boy?” you croon. He licks your offered hand.
You manage to finish getting the sock on in peace, dropping a kiss to the scar on his forehead.
“My little trooper, good boy,” you murmur.
With him settled, you sit back with a sigh. Skipper is sitting, looking mighty offended. You groan.
“I’m sorry, honey,” you offer, extending a hand to him. “I was just stressed and all that fussing freaked me out. I know you were just trying to help.”
A long, long look at your palm. And then he sighs and sets his chin in your hand. You waste no time scritching along his jaw, coaxing him closer until you can leave kisses all over his muzzle and forehead.
“Big strong boy,” you coo, grinning into his ears when you see his tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Like he doesn’t want you to notice. “Such a good helper. Thank you, handsome.”
Peace restored, you settle onto the couch until dinner time.
So yes, four wolf-hybrids is pushing it on space.
You’re being minded.
It would be funnier if your dog wasn’t better at taking care of you than you are.
“You must have been in service dog training or something,” you muse, accepting the pill bottle from Skipper’s mouth. “Someone wanted you to work.”
And work he does.
If it’s not helping you keep the boys in line, it’s patrolling the yard with Ghost. Or nudging you to eat at mealtimes. Or putting you to bed. Hes a busy boy, hardly ever settles on the couch with the rest at night for snuggle time.
And when you do strong arm him into it, his ears are perked at every little noise, ready to protect.
There’s also this. The bringing you meds. (You try not to think about how he managed to get into the cabinet. Maybe you left them out on the counter?) Or sometimes he picks up things you’ve dropped, like pens or keys or even your phone.
It’s sweet, but you worry he’s bored. When you do buy him enrichment toys though, he gives them a perfunctory sniff, then leaves them for one of the others. (Johnny in particular loves the treat puzzles.) So you figure he’s stimulated enough, considering bored dogs usually tear into anything and everything.
“You know I’m supposed to take care of you right?” You tease, patting his big, sturdy side. “I take care of everyone here. You’re my boys.”
Skipper snorts and sits down, watching you, eyes pinging between your face and the pills. You huff, amused despite yourself.
“Alright, alright! Rude mutt.”
A little “boof” — agreement or offense? You amuse yourself with anthropomorphizing his noises while you chug water with your meds.
“See? Done. Ta-da!” You say when they’re done.
Another “boof” and then he’s trotting off. Pauses to give you a significant look. You check the time. Right, it’s lunchtime. Best to take meds with food anyway.
“I’m coming,” you groan, shuffling after him.
All the dogs are waiting for you in the kitchen, big eyes and perked ears.
“Look at you lot,” you laugh, dropping a scratch to Ghost’s head as you pass. “What is this, an intervention. I’m not giving you guys enough peanut butter?”
Skipper ignores you, taking his usual place at the entrance to the kitchen. A good vantage point to keep an eye on you and the rest of the house. He only accepts a little bit of shared food after everyone else gets a bite. You hum as you consider all of them, crammed into your kitchen because they’re a clingy lot.
“Might be time for a move, guys,” you sigh. “Or maybe another story.”
You glance at the ceiling with dread. Either way, you’re not looking forward to it.
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voltronisanobsession · 8 months
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A small teen wolf thought I had
I’m really missing season 1 Stiles, so let’s imagine him having a crush on reader😍
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We all know how Stiles had an enormous crush on Lydia, it was absolutely devastating tbh. Like this dude was lowkey devoted to her💀💀
So what if a new student (reader) moved into town and it’s love at first sight for him. He’d bump into you after rambling to Scott about whatever was on his mind and knocks your binder and books to the ground.
Helping you pick up your stuff, right when he’s giving you your notebook, he’d look up and just. Stare. Cuz ZOOWEEMAMA YOURE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING IN HIS EYES
You’re busy thanking him and apologizing for the collision, waiting for him to let go of the notebook, voice slowly fading out when you notice him just staring at you with his mouth slightly open.
“Thanks for helping me. Can I have my book?”
“Uh huh.”
“…”
“…”
“Stiles, you know you have to let go of the notebook.” Scott is trying his best not to slam his head in a locker when his friend still doesn’t let go LMAO
Your chuckle snaps him out of whatever daze he was in, causing him to blush and apologize awkwardly. You’d smile at him and in good nature, joke about it and walk away, leaving him in awe.
Most people would normally give him the stink eye, but seeing how you joked about it made his heart flutter a bit.
Everything is HISTORY after that. If you have any classes with Stiles, you already KNOW he’s gonna try and sit as close to you as possible. Teacher assigns partner or group projects? He’s springing out of his seat and going to you first. You both have the same lunch period? He’s inviting you to sit with him and his friends. You’re having trouble with a certain class? Man, he’s already offering to help you after school, you’ll nail that test with flying colors!
You just get him! You like his sarcasm and MIRACULOUSLY understand his random references from movies and video games! With all the time you guys spend together, his crush on you grows more and more.
You appreciate how Stiles is so interested in the things you like and dislike. You love how he asks why you enjoy a certain movie despite the terrible reviews it got. Why you dislike an artist he just began listening to. You both love the same things, but have different opinions on everything, every conversation flows so naturally with him that you can’t help but develop a crush on him too.
You’ve never met anyone as eccentric and energetic as him, he never fails to bring a smile to your face teehee
Stiles is the type to remember every little, seemingly insignificant, thing about his crush. When your birthday rolls around, this dude has so many gifts ready😭 a warm feeling fills you when you open one gift to see it’s an item you’ve mentioned in a passing convo yall had MONTHS ago
He’s so sweet and kind with you too like don’t get me started. Stiles just enjoys being around you and seeing you happy makes him happy. SEASON 1 STILES IS THE DEFINITION OF PUPPY LOVE LIKE UGGHH
Takes you out on late night drives, barges into your room through the window with any takeout food you’ve been craving. Hed even take you out on a mini ‘date’ to the local arcade!!! his dad sees how much you mean to his son and is super happy that Stiles is happy. Loves when you come over to study with him, he’s always telling you stories about when stiles was younger (he would definitely cover your ears with his hands and speak loudly over his dad LMAO)
I’m telling y’all, stiles having a crush on you is the cutest thing ever, especially if you reciprocate his feelings!!!When you guys get together, cuz it’s not a matter of if with his friends, you’re the ultimate duo.
He’d confess his feelings for you in the most cheesiest way ever, probably during or after a school dance cuz why not.
UGH I NEED TO WRITE MORE STILES STUFF I LIVE HIM SM‼️ HE WAS NEVER THE SAME AFTER SEASON 3😭😭😭
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yanderenightmare · 7 months
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Nasty alpha wolf-boy Shiggy buying virgin bunny reader at a shady auction, taking her home and breeding her silly in all her tight bunny holes<3
BNHA ! THIRST
Shigaraki Tomura x darling
WC: 2.5k
TW: NSFW, captive darling, light bondage, oral giving/receiving, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, hybrid au
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Shigaraki doesn’t get along with most other organizations aside from his own, but he could hold a certain respect for this establishment. He felt appreciated here – a valued customer – one with a hungry appetite the vendor saved only the very best herbivores for.
Herbivores like you.
“She was easy to tame- submissive like she was made for it!” The Master said. “A bit too submissive for my taste- but you know what they say about bunnies- cute like a button and just as dumb!”
Your thighs rubbed themselves where you stood in the dark of your blindfold. Bleating and cowering in the chastity belt they’d fixed tight around your lower body – having you sheathed on two thick cocks stretching out both virgin holes – making you drippy – vibrating inside you with purrs tickling your core in thrums he could hear from ten meters away.
“Stuff her in the trunk and take her home if you want- she’s so soft around the edges and pumped with hormones she won’t mind the bumpy road. You could take her right here on the concrete, and all she’d do is just moan!”
He could smell it in the air – how heated you were. Sopping like a braindead whore – he bet you’d been stuck in that chastity belt for hours, as sweaty and trembling as you were. Unstable were you stood in pink pumps soaked full of the slick running down your thighs – only managing to stand thanks to the big bodyguard behind you. He was a beastly fucker, squeezing one of your tits tight in a big bear paw while fisting your leash like a noose in the other, pulling the thick black collar kept snug on your throat only to feel your plush ass rub against his crotch.
The way your arms were cruelly bent behind your back was of no help to your balance either, making your perky tits strut forward. Stiff nipples begging for a suck or a twist or a slap – sculpted a bit by an additional harness shaped like a bra with no filling – just thin black leather lines extenuating that on display.
“My hunters swear she’s a pure little thing, so normally I would demand you pay extra-”
Two black heart-shaped eyepatches had you blindfolded but were kept lenient enough to allow tears to soak through, layered damp on your cheeks and giving a pretty plump bloat to your lips – sucking on the pink ballgag stuffed in your mouth, fastened tight around your head – making all your noises come out wet and even more feeble.
“But she’s yours free of charge if the league handles some business for me~”
Your lop ears drooped sadly down your cheeks, framing your cute face like a picture where your little nose kept wrinkling in terribly adorable sniffles – squealing on what he could tell was another ride over the edge.
“Deal.” He barked shortly, a growl in his throat.
The Master grinned. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Shigaraki.” Tossing him the keys to the lock on your cunt before snapping his fingers, gesturing for the bodyguard to do the same with the leash – pushing you in a wobbling stumble over to your new owner.
And then he really felt you tremble – soft yet stiff, bracing yourself against him – the smell of utter terror and arousal so thick he found himself drooling just at a single close whiff – all the hair on his tail spiked on strict end as a hunger growled low in his gut.
He felt his pants grow taut and gave a hiss – shoving you on your stomach in a sprawl onto the backseat. Throwing your legs inside before slamming the door shut – putting his fingers to his lips – your slick wet on them, glossy and sweet in his nose like a perfume as he licked them clean while getting in the car.
“Drive.” He muttered in another curt growl, signaling the man to his side to turn the keys as he pawed the straining tent bumping his boxers with yet another hiss.
Huffing, he closed his eyes, listening to you nom on your gag with wet cries and moans – his chest tight and brows furrowed – cursing having said yes to clean up another organization’s mess, and even more frustrated with your scent hanging heavy in the air, making everything spin for him – until finally reaching the base.
“Get out, Binky- welcome to your new home.”
He tugged your collar again soon after the car stopped, and out you shuffled – sweaty and shivering on legs that could barely hold their own weight – supported by the hand he had raked in your hair, pulling and dragging your body out into the cold.
Letting go once you were out of the backseat, he started fisting the leash instead, yanking you forward with heels clicking in no steady rhythm – wonky on the ground where you struggled to keep up with him. Slick between your thighs, rubbing together as you walked.
You were still blindfolded – floppy ears shifty at the sounds of doors opening and slamming shut, along with the threatening cheers of the crowd of villains drinking in the rooms the two of you passed. It’s as though he can hear you praying, hoping that he’s not planning on sharing you with the rest of the fray the way you flinch at the whistles and filthy comments being thrown your way.
You sped up until your tits bumped into his back – walking close with your head bowed to shield yourself.
Splitting a grin, he chuckled out a low snort. He hadn’t thought you’d be so silly to seek his comfort. But dumb as it was, his cock seemed to find it unexpectedly pleasant.
Reaching his room, he fished for his key – hands unsteady, tongue gracing his fangs as he unlocked it before stepping inside. Hauling you behind him into the musty space where he at once pounced on you like a predator who’d finally lost all patience. 
Paws with claws gabbed your tit with a force that made you stumble – almost fall if he hadn’t tugged you back by your leash. His tongue ran wet over the sweet drool dripping down your neck and chin – his canines close to your neck, making you shiver and bleat for him while his hand dropped down to cup your sex. 
Stopping short at the thick feel of latex beneath his fingertips, he growled and shoved you in a toppling wobble until your back hit the soft embrace of the bed behind you. You met it with a bounce and a yelp smothered in your gag – and he followed quickly, crawling on top of you with the key in hand. Carefully caressing the lock on your belt – thinking it would be a shame to destroy it when he could make use of it later. He would need to keep you protected if the way everyone eyed you was any indication. After all, he couldn't expect a base crawling with only carnivores to resist the scent of a herbivore as sweet as you.
He turned the key in the hole and pulled the cruel construction down your thighs, and you gave a whine, hips bucking at the release, quaking at the empty feeling while he eyed the lewd mixture of slick clinging in pretty bridges between the two closing holes and the two glossy rubber cocks still wet and warm with your heat. 
“You make quite a slutty mess for a virgin.” He teased, with two of his coarse fingers dragging up your slick clit – gleeful eyes watching you squirm while releasing a strangled sound caught between a moan and a scream – riddled with overstimulation to the point you were cumming in spasms from only the single little touch.
He only chuckled at the sight. Leaving you to pant and quake beneath him – with shakey breaths anticipating the painful pleasure of his touch once again. 
“Sensitive, scared, horny- tortured by your own fickle hormones and instincts- I know what you want…” He continued, now with the words leaving hot puffs against the slick skin on your thighs. “You want this teensy little rabbit hole destroyed by the big bad wolf….”
Your whimpers were like a symphony – sweet and softly tuned to strum every string in his gut – purring and stirring something sticky and heavy and starving inside of him.
“Look at this pussy….” He groaned with a click of his tongue – his eyes set on the wet puffy little thing between your legs. “So pretty- I could bite it.”
Your back took an arch, jumping from the bed once his hot mouth hit your mound – letting out another uncontrolled moan – heart pounding so loud and savagely in your chest he could feel it pulse on his tongue inside you as he lapped at you like a parched mutt.
His claws dug with greed, plunged deep into the cake of your thighs, locking you around his jaw where he mouthed at your core with eyes rolling back. Every fiber went on a rampage within him, zipping along his limbs and gathering in his gut like one tight-clenched aching fist.
“Mh-fuck-” He took a breath, mouth gaping and dripping with spit and slick before moving upward, sucking kisses into the soft skin of your tummy and soon locking his lips around your nipple – with one hand working your free titty, the other fucked your hole with horny curiosity, delving in the slick with twists and curls and scissoring.
You whined under his touches, quaking on all counts – listening to your hole squelch while your oh-so-sensitive insides clenched down hard from the warm knot coiling in your lower belly, coming so close to that all-over-feeling yet again – shaking your head in fear of it.
“Piss yourself if it helps- I don’t mind-” He growled out low in a whisper, his fangs against your throat now, grazing playfully with rugged breaths hot against your flushed skin. “I won’t stop until I’ve broken in each hole-”
Eyes big and swiveled with tears rippling down your cheeks in rushed rivulets, all the while your pussy made out with his fingers – feeling the fat digits test the flex of your gummy walls – slippery with slick and happily fluttering from his touches. 
You soon caved for the umpteenth time – whole body strangling to suppress the sensation while unsure how much more you could take before going numb.
“Tch- there you go~ good bunny~” He praised in mockery, snickering at your panting – his breath hot on your skin where he moved to hover above your gagged lips – undoing the straps to free your mouth.
“Ah please, m-master- please- no more-” You immediately begged, mouth wet with drool.
“Mh- you’ve got manners…” He moaned, keeping his fingers in your cunt while holding you by the ear in the other hand, gripping it tight and rubbing the thin softness like a lucky charm. Tugging himself out of his pants, messy with pre, he immediately steered the fatness to your mouth. “Open up~”
You took it with a small whine, feeling it push onto your tongue and further in until it hit the back of your throat in a kiss. He gave a groan, feeling your bloated lips wrap around the shaft as you glucked on his length in soft mewls – eyes panning from the view to watch your little titties bounce at the movement, doing small jumps for him as he rammed your sweet face.
He removed your eyepatches – wanting to see your pretty eyes glossy and big for him as you sucked his cock.
The look on your face made his gut rumble – so sweet-looking with your cinched brows and button-nose – eyeing him with cute anxiety, no doubt taking in the scary sight of his red eyes and his pale skin littered with scars.
You coughed cutely when he withdrew, and he bent over to kiss you again, spit stringing between your tongues as his fingers went back to your clitty – rubbing crass circles into it that had you squealing into his mouth.
“Please, master-” You cried, wringing your thighs shut tight around his hand – tears springing from the pity puddles of your eyes as you looked at him with such plead it made his gut roar.
He could only offer a gleeful giggle, spreading your thighs by pulling you snugly around his waist – his cock jumping eagerly above your navel as he bore over you – his breath hot on your face. “Don’t worry, baby bunny, I’ll stuff you up good. Breed you full of a warm creampie in your tight little cunt.” He cooed, fangs sharp and glistening – his paw flat on your belly, rubbing the flesh with want. “Right here~ warm and thick in your little womb~”
You shuddered at the threat, then whined an open-mouthed moan as he sleaved himself inside you. Feeling his every fat vein rub along your walls until his plush head nudged tight against your cervix – making you mewl with an arch in your back, clenching hard around the size of him. Shaking from the toll of it.
He groaned, starting to pound you already – fast and deep, just like a hound rutting. “I’m gonna give you my knot, Bunbun-” He drooled, sucking your cheek with tongue and teeth – red eyes set on your plump and pouty lips – gaping open and begging for more while he continued raving. “Gonna knot you up so tight- make this virgin pussy tremble for me-”
You could only pant, getting run through at such a pace your next orgasm was fucked right out of you. Sweat pilled on your forehead and nose, thighs trembling as you came on his thickness in hot, heaving moans. Throttling his cock for cum – which he soon spilled deep inside you just like he promised – painting your insides with it with balls clenching up, resting snugly against the slick that spilled out.
He was messy when he pulled out again. Glossy and still raging fat as he rolled you over on your stomach – pulling your ass up by your hips while you remained breathless with exhaustion, smudged against the pillowy sheets beneath you.
He laid his meat between your asscheeks, eyes lazily looking over your dewy face and how pretty you looked fucked out on his bed.
“This bunny-hole’s never felt cock either, huh?” He said, voice breathy but eager still – planting his tip at the opening of the taut little entrance before beginning to push.
You moaned out again but could only ball your fists for purchase, still kept in a lock behind your back – tightening them until your knuckles whitened while he crammed himself inside you one stout inch at a time.
“Mmh- fuck, so tight~ it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good hugging me nice and snug~” He almost whined, getting swallowed down until his pelvis met your ass and the ball of fluff found there – doing a little dance just for him. “Fuck- look at you, little cottontail~” He groaned, leaving himself sunk down to the hilt inside you for a moment of appreciation before beginning to drag out to pound your stomach into a nice mess. “So perfect, I outta take a picture~”
tip-jar: Kofi
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ellecdc · 3 months
Text
A Man With a Plan.4
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: brief mention of a sexual encounter (non-explicit)
The following week-and-a-half was both chaotic and painful for (likely everyone involved, but specifically for) Remus Moony Remus (& Moony).
Remus (under the watchful glare of one Sirius Orion Black) apologized to James for speaking so rudely to him, and to Peter for upsetting the room.
Pete was quick to forgive him, whilst James just asked, “are you ready to talk about it?”. Remus replied no, James said “talk to me when you are”, and the two haven’t spoken much since. 
The closer and closer Remus got to the full moon, the more incessant Moony became. Even if you weren’t around, Moony was whining after you. When you were around, Moony was begging for you. 
Remus, much to Moony and Sirius’s (never mind his own) chagrin, would hear your soft lilting voice moving down the hall speaking to James, and would quickly grab Amelia and find the closest broom closet. 
After the 3rd or 4th time, he was starting to look like a horny pre-teen who just discovered playboy magazines.
But while Amelia was on her knees and his hand was on the back of her head, he could muffle the howling and yipping of the angry wolf for at least the moment, and it felt like enough.
Until it wasn’t.
“Stop, stop.” He groaned as he pulled away from Amelia’s wandering hands. She looked quite lovely – flushed, slightly damp and pupils blown wide, but Remus couldn’t appreciate much of anything with the chorus of ‘Need, need, need, need. Mine, mine, mine, mine’ inside his mind.
“What is it, baby?” She cooed at him. Remus had to fight back a grimace at the nickname.
“I ca-I can’t do this right now.” He said, bringing his hand to his mouth; he suddenly felt queasy.
“Are you sure? I can be a good girl for you.” She purred.
“No.” he said as he flung the door to the broom closet and nearly collided with you.
Dammit, how were you everywhere!?
“Oh, hello Remus! Are you alright?” You asked him.
Mine. 
Remus could only let out a keening sound in response – hand still pressed to his mouth.
Your eyes seemed to flit around his being – not actually looking at him but around him as your mouth pinched in concern.
“No, not alright at all.” You answered your own question, speaking more to yourself than anything. 
“Rem?” Amelia said as she rubbed his back and spotted you in front of him.
“Oh, L/N,” Amelia said with a chuckle. Remus felt his hackles rise immediately. “Your aura looks wonderful today.” 
Her voice was filled with contempt, but your eyes never left Remus’ form. 
“Here,” you said to Remus as you began to dig through your book bag. You missed the ‘tosser’ that Amelia threw your way, but Remus didn’t.
Moony wanted her dead.
“This should help, Remus. It’s mallowsweet, shrivlefig juice, powdered moonstone, and rosewater. I think it’s just what you need.”
Your voice was so soft and sweet, and Moony was so quiet while you spoke. Remus almost wanted to tell you to forget the vial you were offering as he felt his migraine lifting just from listening to you talk.
Remus might as well have been a puppet as he raised his hand to take the vial from you – he didn’t even know what this concoction was for, but if you kept looking at him like that? He’d drink forty of them.
You dropped the vial into his palm, keeping your fingers to yourself as if you were somehow aware he was afraid to touch you.
“I hope you feel better, Remus.” You breathed softly, parting from him with a gentle smile as you floated back down the hallway.
“Gods, she is such an airhead.”
Remus suddenly understood James a little bit better.
“Amelia,” he started as he turned to stare daggers at the girl, “don’t make fun of my friends.”
And he stalked off down the hall, opposite the way you’d just went.
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It was Thursday evening, and there were only two more nights until the full. Remus sat at the table with his head in his hands as he tried to swallow against his gag reflex.
Amelia Bones was staring daggers at him from the Hufflepuff table, but it was you, speaking so sweetly to James across from him, that had his heart beating like a hummingbird in his chest.
Mine, pack! Pack! Pack! Mine, pack. 
Remus mentally grabbed The Wolf by the scruff, causing a pitiful whine and quiet whimpering to follow. He was too tired and too close to the full for this.
James was speaking animatedly to you about the niffler’s from class today, but Remus Moony could tell your mind was elsewhere.
“One moment, Jamie.” You said quietly to your friend as you began to walk away. Suddenly, you were standing behind Moony Remus.
“Excuse me, Peter. Would you mind terribly if I sat here?” You asked sweetly, pointing to the sliver of bench between the two of them. Sirius’ eyes flew to meet Remus’ from his spot across from him.
“Oh! Uhm, no, Y/N, not at all.” Peter agreed as he moved to create a space for you beside Remus.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you were suddenly sat between Remus and Peter, directly across from James who was placed beside Sirius. 
Remus felt his shoulders sag in immediate relief to have you so close to him. Horrifyingly, he felt tears spring to his eyes. He tucked his chin into his chest, knowing Sirius’ gaze hadn’t left him.
You pushed your ankle up against Remus’ as you continued discussing the pilfering little creatures from your class with James as the first tear fell. 
He wanted to be angry. But he couldn’t bring himself to.
He wanted to resent you. But he couldn’t bring himself to.
Because you were kind and sweet and understanding and patient. And he was the monster.
And somehow, you knew all of that. And yet, you sat here, beside him, and offered him what little comfort you could.
Remus was fucked.
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You were at the quidditch game Friday evening. Gryffindor was playing Slytherin, so you appeared to be present only to cheer on James.
It was sweet.
Remus was fucked.
Amelia came too, which pissed Remus off seeing as Hufflepuff wasn’t playing either, but it gave him the chance to not sit there staring at the space beside you wishing he was selfish enough to take it.
Her company wasn’t as nice as yours, but Remus supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.
The weather kind of sucked – it wasn’t raining but the air was thick with fog and mist, and visibility was low. Remus wasn’t sure how the players managed between the mist, the wind on their brooms, and their sweat, but the game raged on.
“Wait, so the little braids that you find on horses randomly...” Peter asked you from a few bleachers below Remus.
Remus kept his eyes on the players he could make out through the fog and pretended he wasn’t listening to your conversation.
“Yes, those are nargles. They appear at night and twist the hairs of horses or unicorns to create stirrups and leads so that they can ride them. It’s important you don’t undo them, though, as nargles may become frustrated that they have to redo their work. They are also more likely to return to ride your horse again instead of outright taking them for their own if you respect their work. Tricky little thieves, they are.”
“Huh.” Pete offered brightly. Remus smiled widely to himself. “Well, I suppose they also look pretty in the horse’s hair. Might as well leave ‘em.”
Remus felt a warmth radiating in his chest. He couldn’t see either of you as he kept his gaze on the game, but he could clearly picture your kind and airy smile, and how Peter had his body turned to you to ensure you had his full intention.
Moony loved it too.
Pack. Good. Good. Good. PaCk GooD. 
Remus began to think maybe he could handle this. Maybe he could keep you here, sort of at arm’s length but still within his reach. Maybe he could accept you as a friend and...pack member if that’s what Moony insisted on calling you.
Maybe this didn’t need to be all or nothing, maybe this could just be...
But Remus’ train of thought stopped as Moony began raging within his mind. Remus started to panic, thinking maybe he miscalculated the next full moon; he’s not been wrong about a moon once in his entire life, but fuck, stranger things have happened.
He looked to the sky, and even through the fog, Remus could tell the moon was nowhere near risen. He was also very sure the full moon was tomorrow night.
“Look out!” A player shouted from the pitch as Remus spotted a very large ball careening its way over...straight for you.
Mine. Mine. Mine MINE MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE.
Remus’ mind went blank as he stood from his place. Suddenly, he was standing in front of you as the ball hit him in the middle of his back. He grunted in mild discomfort, but it was far less damage than what could have been had it made contact with your face.
Your face, which was looking up at Remus with your mouth parted in gentle surprise, and your eyes searching his person.
“Remus! Are you alright, mate?” Peter cried in shock.
The whistle sounded on the pitch as players flew their way over to the Gryffindor benches to retrieve the ball. 
“Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt that bad.” He offered, though his eyes never left yours.
“Moony, what the fuck was that?!” Sirius called from his broom.
“What was what? Aren’t you players supposed to aim the ball at each other?” He snarked back.
“Mate,” Pete whispered to him, “you apparated.”
He...he apparated!?
Hogwarts had ancient magical wards lining the school grounds and castles. One such ancient ward was an anti-apparition ward. No one should be able to apparate in or out.
Ignoring all of that, however...7th years still hadn’t been taught how to apparate yet.
Well...Remus didn’t know what to say about that. So instead, he asked “are you alright?”
You looked between him and his right shoulder for a moment before nodding. “Yes, Remus. Thank you. I’m very sorry about all of this.”
But before he could say - oh, that’s okay, or that’s not necessary, or even what the hell are you apologizing for? - you were out of your seat and leaving the stands.
“What did you say to her?” James barked at Remus from his broom beside Sirius, glare turning stormy.
“Nothing mate,” Sirius answered for him, “he just asked if she was alright.”
“Was she?” James asked, eyes softening slightly.
“Yeah, she’s okay.” Remus answered.
James seemed to analyze Remus’ face before offering him a curt nod and flying back to the centre of the pitch. 
“McGonagall’s going to be so pissed if you broke those wards, mate.” Peter muttered as the game resumed.
Sure, Remus thought, let’s focus on that. 
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McGonagall was kind of pissed about the wards, but she told Remus it was but a minor tear within the grid and may be repairable. 
Seeing as the burst of accidental magic was...well...accidental (and lunar in nature, though he figured it was best they all ignored that little fact for the time being), he was off the hook for the damage.
He was the victim of relentless torment, however.
“Lord Rem, are you reading ahead to make the rest of us look bad?” Lily smirked from her place in the Gryffindor common room. 
Remus groaned into his book as he pulled it to the face.
“It was an accident.” He muttered miserably.
“Sure. Just watch your back, Lupin; I’m still top of the class.” She fired at him with a smirk.
The common room continued thinning out until it was only Lily and James playing wizards chess, Sirius and Peter playing exploding snap, and Remus trying to read his book as his muscles and joints swelled and groaned under the pull of the moon. Tomorrow night, and then he’d be free for the rest of the cycle.
Well, not free, seeing as now he was also plagued by you.
Suddenly, the group of five could hear the portrait of the Fat Lady screeching at someone in the hall.
“I will do no such thing; I am not a secretary” the muffled voice spat.
Sirius and Remus shared a confused look before the former stood and made his way to the portrait hole. 
“Reggie?” Sirius asked quietly as the portrait swung open to reveal the form of his younger brother.
“Uhm, hi, Sirius. I... I was wondering if Potter was here?”
Sirius’ head reared back slightly as he blinked over at James.
“Uhm...yes? He is.” 
Regulus sighed. “May I speak to him?”
Sirius slowly moved aside and gestured for Regulus to come in.
“Hello Regulus.” James said politely, looking bemusedly at Sirius for a brief moment before standing.
“Potter. My apologies for the...intrusion. But I’m wondering if you’ve seen Y/N.”
Remus’ book fell into his lap as he sat straight in his chair, hands gripping the arm rests. Remus had heard from Sirius (who heard from James) that you and Regulus were quite close. This at least explained why Remus’ friends and yours had never intertwined before.
“No, no. Not since the game, why?”
Regulus sighed again as he grimaced. “She’s not in her dorms. One of her dormmates asked me where she went – apparently, she told them it was important for her to be ‘away from the castle’ for the weekend. I was hoping you knew where she went.”
Remus ran up to the Marauder’s dorm room and accio’d the Marauder’s Map. He scanned the parchment and, sure enough, you were nowhere to be found. He double, triple and quadruple checked to no avail. 
You were nowhere to be found on castle grounds.
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Continue to chapter five here.
Taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr, @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @adhxmoony, @spokenfolk, @hufflepufffangirlqueen, @thebiggestnaturaldisaster, @urmomw4ntsme, @b4tm4nn, @jamieolivia27, @stqrgirlies-blog, @loving-and-dreaming, @cultish-corner
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Edit a bit because I forgot a small part.
So I have a small minor theory. Most is already fan based. So look at his picture. Vox looked near mortified at the reveal. To me, it appears more of embarrassment of past actions of admitting feelings to someone who didn't return them suddenly revealed to a new audience in modern day.
Some fans already believed Vox has a strong one sided crush on Alastor which partly fuel his rivery.
Vox died a few decades after Alastor, Alastor was probably very well established in Hell when Vox landed. Both being media themed demons, Vox more then likely became inspired by Alastor and was his biggest fan, also crushing on him. Vox wanted to make himself worthy to catch Alastor eyes and so, he pursued and ascended to become an overlord.
Eventually he did, they were not exactly on equal ground, but close enough. They both appear at the Overlord meetings. May have some brief interactions. Alastor probably still jabbed at Vox early on, simply because Alastor dislike modern technology. The jabbing not necessarily vicious but still making fun of Vox, nonetheless, but Vox took it in stride and probably retorted his own witty comebacks. Which I assume Alastor appreciates because its entertaining even if its mildly so. But it made the meetings not a complete bore. Vox thrilled because Alastor did notice him and seem to enjoy (entertained) by his company, even causing the Radio demon to laugh.
Finally, Vox took the courage and asked Alastor out. Asexual Alastor misinterpreted it as a business proposition. Romantic interpretations are not his first impressions in thought when presented. The answer would still be no but probably with A LOT less mocking. Alastor seem to just simply say no when relations is presented to him. For example, Angel Dust making comments and Alastor does a quick laugh and say no. Nothing more. I imagine he answers similar to nearly every encounter of this type. He a gentleman after all, he not going to ridicule someone for having feelings for Alastor that Alastor is not interested in returning.
So when Vox, most likely after an Overlord meeting, asked Alastor out. (We should get together and...) Alastor mocked Vox hard to the point of ridicule. Why would lone wolf radio demon want to team up with a sub par media demon? I assumed Vox already partner with Valentino at this point (he ask me to join his team, imply Vox already had a team at this point. Velvette may not been around at the time, she is the youngest). I think Alastor would hate Valentino and everything he stands for. Even if Alastor was interested in more power which he isn't, he doesn't care about being an overlord-he just want to be entertained, he would HATE working and being in the same proximity of Valentino. Alastor was probably a little merciless on his decline.
Of course, Alastor said it in a way that Vox interpate that it still personal level not a business one. This whole conversation was missinuperted by both of them. Vox was beyond humiliated. Truly starting a rivery to prove Alastor he is better. That Alastor is wrong, Vox media is superior, that Vox himself is superior and trying to turn the tables as he recover from his embarrassment. What worse, despite it all, Vox still craves Alastor attention, to be respected and perhaps thought of fondly. Which infuriates Vox more that he simply can't hate him like he wants to but still admires Alastor.
Side bit, I think Vox and Valentino do have a small thing going. (He also seemed a bit excited thinking Angel quit, and annoyed to see him around). Both of them enjoy each other company but their hearts not in it. (I also think Vox is also a bit of a victim to Valentino poison", that would be super interesting!) But I think a small part of Vox holds a secret grudge against Valentino. He thinks Valentino is part of the problem why Alastor rejected him. Because Alastor during his ridicule decline of his invitation mention Vox was with Valentino and Alastor wanted no part of that. Alastor strolled off, leaving a stammering speechless Vox, to taken aback to clarify Valentino was just a business partner. I only mention this because, Vox seem to have a comfortable relationship with Valentino. They have a bit of history (hinted by the photo of the two together and Vox having a crt tv head) to gain enough trust, know each other to know what makes them tick and desires. But Vox also seem put off and near reluctant to have to calm down his "boy toy" (as Velvette put it). Tolerating enough to remain levelhead, but clearly tired of Valentino tantum shit.
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soulrph · 11 months
Text
chaotic unhinged lines from 2022-2023 (prompt edition).
basically in 2021 i made a list of prompts inspired by lines in tiktok videos and instagram reels that made me laugh so hard i cried! and now i have returned with another list! these may provide an alarmingly clear image of what my sense of humor is (aka broken) but i figure a little levity is always a good thing! more prompts are forthcoming, but in the mean time: bon appetit!
knowledge has always chased you, but you've always been faster.
no... no, that was mango apathy juice. from the farmer's market.
of all these people, you are the one i understand the least. i want to get to know you better, but like, not that much better.
i-i will CHEW YOUR MEAT!! WHAT are you doing?!
ooooh god, no, you wouldn't be long getting frostbit!
you are evil. like a hobbit.
WHY MUST YOU FAIL ME SO OFTEN?!?!!?
i have had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it.
AHEM!! fill my cup.
may god ignore you like you ignored my greetings.
i will avenge you mister van gogh.
call off work bestie, we need you to solve a murder. here's fifteen dollars.
you're not in love. you may think you are, you dumb fuck, but you're not.
go ahead and put the ranch away.
sadly, "hopefully" doth butter no parsnips.
forget school, i want to be an italian sandwich.
you shouldn't skip work, you are a lawyer and he is a hamster.
you can stop roleplaying now. you're free.
her coupon game was so fucking raw.
i'm sorry guys... he's making a salad.
you could get a straight guy here if you learned to make a good pasta. i'll teach you how to make a risotto that'll get you married and out of my basement.
hey, do you want me to get together a plate of roast beef and hide it in our room so we can have night meats?
it's not the most ethical thing in the world, but in a pinch you can hand off a cursed object to basically any baby.
no, children, you're wrong. once upon a time, there was a piece of wood.
and i'm not saying she deserved it, but i am saying that god's timing is always riiiiight.
hydrate or die-drate, ya DICK!
why did the monkey fall out of the tree? because it was DEAD.
new york city is a fictional place written up by someone with a sinister mind and a knack for comedy.
this is grindr my guy.
wait, i didn't finish teaching you the difference between human and wolf anatomy.
it's time to tell your grandmother that she was wrong. do not be afraid.
vanilla vodka... you fucking child.
without ash to rise from, a phoenix would just be a bird getting up.
you are fucking alive. do what you want.
why are you cradling me like a baby, friend? this isn't how guys of my generation hang out.
i hope a hedgehog shits in your cereal, you difficult person.
you know, i am not as mean as i would like to be. and i think people should appreciate that more.
see, i am not a kangaroo.
well, i'd like to help, but... you see... not as much as i'd like not to.
rest in peace you fucking onion fairy.
when god sings with all his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?
i fight for a seat in heaven, every. single. day.
map maker? can you find me somewhere on the map where this big man thinks he's the king?
you bald-headed demon...
so... there are 24 million pigs in australia... and 24 million people... so if you ever feel lonely, there's like, a pig out there that's sort of your cosmic twin.
remember, alcohol is god's apology for making us self-aware.
i'm straight!! stop CONFUSING me!!!!!
you guys want something to eat? because... i know we'll die if we don't eat.
he is a BIBLICALLY gorgeous man. i wanna feed him grapes. i wanna fan him with the frond of a date palm from the forests of Lebanon. i wanna find the alabaster vial of perfume oil that one woman broke for jesus and comb it through his hair. like... he's stressing me OUT.
i'm not sad! i'm freaking HUNGRY!
maybe, if we wait a little bit longer, a fuck will fall into my hand, and i can give it to you.
it's not my fault you thought you lived in this IKEA.
let's leave my mother out of this.
jason may kill people but he's not bad enough to kick a dog.
i run for LUMP!
oh no, i'm all out of caring, baby!
you don't think it mcbe that way... but it mcdo.
what is this enticing bowl of white?
serious question, do his nipples sparkle?
what in the reese's peanut butter fuck is going on here?
if your parents don't buy it, stop loving them!
i just hope you know just how much you've decreased productivity today.
that was poetry at its FINEST.
and if you let that motherfucker shenan ONCE, you best believe they're gonna shenanIGAN!
may god bless the dinosaur that died to make the fossil fuel that was treated to become petrol in the car that took her mom to the hospital to give birth to her.
that's modern milk for ya. what a time to be alive.
you have attachment issues. please fix it.
remember when people had secrets? we should bring that back.
the moon landing was an elaborate marriage proposal.
i don't like the cobra chicken.
i didn't know eggs were this expensive? it's time to lay my own, i fear.
so you're saying the reason i don't have a girlfriend is because i'm not a big enough threat yet.
god gave him a top lip, that's why he's so powerful.
it's a common mistake, but frankenstein was actually the author.
i finally got a pocket-sized diary!!! also i don't get the concept of life.
if a beautiful woman disagrees with me, i will immediately change my view. i've no principles.
how did you all end up married to such boiled potatoes?
if so much as one tear drops from their eye... i will slap you back into your mum.
you are ringing a phone that does not like to be rung.
look how Dr. doofenschmirtz had a fucked up childhood but didn't project his trauma onto his teenage daughter. he projected it onto a platypus.
it is mathematically impossible for you to get a wedgie.
i'm breaking up with you. i love you, it's just... i don't think you could protect me from a mummy.
if you can't do fractions....... you will fucking die.
that's right; in the year 1791, all of our bottoms were killed in a Big Bottom Massacre.
people always assume i'm mean. like CAN you BELIEVE THAT CRAP?! like WHAT would make you think i'm MEAN?! I'M THE NICEST PERSON ON THE PLANET!
the chocolate milk is strikingly overpriced and at the same time very easy to steal; another of god's little tests.
someone's gotta tell the waiter that i ordered mashed 'taters and it sure as shit ain't gonna be me.
if i had a week i couldn't list all the reasons that wouldn't work.
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ddejavvu · 11 months
Note
What would it be like to do the break bite bang chocolate trend with rooster?? Hmmmm I wonder 😏
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Break, Bite, Bang - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: You and Bradley decide to try the viral tiktok sex chocolates, and you follow their instructions to the letter.
Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), dirty talk, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), afab!reader, fem!reader, handjob, thigh riding, use of aphrodisiacs, teasing, lots of messy makeouts
WC: 4.9K / navigation
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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Considering Bradley's sex drive is already remarkably high, you're not sure why you bought the chocolates. But the countless videos of sweaty, fucked out couples that you saw on your for you page never failed to intrigue you, and when the little box comes in the mail, you're more than ready to put it to good use.
Bradley's just returned home from a run when you slit the box open, raising a curious eyebrow as he pants, "What'd you order, babe?"
"Chocolate," You hold up the package for him to see.
He frowns, too far away to read the words on the front, "I could have bought you a hershey bar at the gas station."
"This is not a hershey bar," You grin wickedly, "Have you heard of tabs chocolate?"
"Are they that fancy ass Australian company that charges, like, $50 per bar?" Bradley takes his workout towel, swiping at the sweat over his brow.
"No," You laugh, "They put aphrodisiacs in their chocolate."
"Aphrodisiacs," Bradley hums with a furrowed brow, "Isn't that-?"
"It's sex chocolate," You reveal, "You up for a bit more exercise today?"
"Sex-ercise," Bradley rushes for you with a shit-eating grin, far too proud of his shitty joke. He's grabbing for the chocolates but you snatch them away, lips wrinkled in a grimace.
"Hey, what-?"
"Not after that." You glare at him, "That was awful."
"Oh, come on!" He laughs, tugging the box out of your hands, and scanning the cover, "Come on, have some chocolate, honey, it'll make you feel better."
"Whatever," You grumble, snatching the little foil squares from their places, "Okay, break," You snap the square in two, "Bite," You hold Bradley's portion out for him, letting him take it from your hand. His mustache prickles against your skin and you bite back a giggle, stuffing your mouth with chocolate instead.
The sweet is savory and bitter on your tongue, with just the right amount of sugar. It's primarily dark, the aphrodisiac component, and you'd buy it for the taste even if it wasn't going to make you fuck like rabbits.
You don't get to swallow the chocolate and finish their signature slogan before Bradley's wolfed down his bar, tossing the package on the table and surging for your lips, "Bang."
The kiss he drags you into nearly buckles your knees. It's intense, it's made sweeter by the chocolate coating his tongue, and his fingers dig into your waist as he tugs you close.
"Mmf- Bradley!" You gasp, dragging in a lungful of air that he'd practically stolen from you with the kiss. He's eager to touch you, to feel you, to taste you as his lips never part from your skin, dragging from your own to the spot just under your jaw that makes your stomach tingly.
"You're- Ah, you're supposed to wait for the chocolate to kick in," You pant, hands slowly, subconsciously curling into his shirt as he sucks at your neck, "We're supposed to, like, see how long we can hold off."
"No fun in that," Bradley shrugs, "I already wanted to fuck when I got home from my run."
"You-" You laugh, breath hitched when his tongue comes out to lick over the skin that his teeth had just nipped at, "You're insatiable, Brad."
"How'm I supposed to keep my hands off of you, hm?" He hums, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. He sucks a patch of skin just to the left of your throat, one that makes your fist clench hard in his sweat soaked running shirt, "So fuckin' sexy, don't need a chocolate to think that."
"But- but we should wait!" You urge, wishing his hair was just the tiniest bit longer so you could tug on it to separate his lips from your neck, "Just to see how- ah!" He nips at your skin again, and a fire burns through your veins that's hard to ignore. It pulls you in, burns from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head, and makes you want to melt into his arms. But the taste of chocolate on your tongue makes you reconsider, and you wrestle yourself out of Bradley's arms.
"No," You pant, eyeing him warily as he watches you, "No, we have to see how long we can wait. Trust me, Brad, it'll make it so much better."
"I want you now," He whines, reminiscent of a kid denied a cookie before dinner. His tone helps tamp down some of the arousal that had risen briefly in your belly, and you take his hand. It's rough from work, calloused and strong. It curls around yours and you lead him to your bedroom, letting him perch on the bed while you unbutton your jean shorts.
Bradley's mouth falls open and he scoffs, "Babe! Don't tease me, how am I supposed to hold out now?"
"You'll be fine," You wave off his concerns, stripping out of your shirt next. It leaves you in a bra and panties you’d specifically chosen for their sex appeal, powder pink and lacy. They’re Bradley’s second favorite, behind only the navy blue set on the drying rack. But you’d used it last night, and you don’t want things to get boring.
“Fuck,” he huffs, flopping back onto the bed. His tanned skin is a stark contrast from the crisp, white bedsheets, only fresh and clean because you’d changed them last night. He watches as you strip yourself of the sheer chain he'd bought you three months ago, for your second anniversary, your initials and his dangling from the silver. The first night you'd had it, he'd torn it off of you during sex, and it had ruined the mood completely. One trip to the garage for some pliers had seen it back on your neck good as new, but you're not taking any chances this time.
"Good idea," He grins lazily, eyes meeting your own for only a split second before they trace your exposed body. He reaches out for your hip when you make for the bed but you jolt out of his reach, hands firmly placed on your hips.
"Bradley Bradshaw," You huff, "No touching! Not yet, you have to really wait until you can't take it anymore."
"I can't! I can't take it anymore," He insists, groaning low and raspy in his throat, "Babe, on a normal day, seeing you in that would get me going. But now you've just given me sex-drugged chocolate? How much longer am I supposed to wait?"
"As long as you can," You grin, something evil in the expression as you flop down onto your stomach beside him with a novel, "'Then we'll jump each other."
Bradley muffles another groan, this time with an arm over his face. When he removes it he reaches for the hemline of his own shirt, "Fine. But I'm stripping too, see how long you can resist me."
"Perfect," You hum, already cracking the spine to resume your place on page 235. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, even if you're having an incredibly hard time focusing on your book right now instead of looking over when you hear the zipper of his jeans.
He eases back into the mattress with yet another groan, the sound bordering on pornographic enough to stir something beneath your stomach. It's the sound he makes when you snake a hand south and squeeze at his half-hard bulge, whether it be an invitation to the bar bathroom or a suggestion after movie night. You think about the way he feels against your hand, thick and straining against his pants, and-
"You're bending that book," Bradley drawls, peering sideways at you, "Thinking about anything in particular?"
It's true, your hand is crumpling the spine and pages up like scrap paper. You quickly smooth it out, lamenting the wrinkles forever etched into the story. Maybe they'll become fond memories, depending on how explosive the sex is tonight.
'No." You grumble, refusing to glance at his sprawled out, near-naked form, "Mind your business."
“Testy,” he laughs, no doubt teasing you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking of, “Alright, babe, enjoy your book.”
Bradley sticks to the agreement and leaves you well enough alone, choosing to scroll on his phone rather than stare at you. You get into the zone of reading, but part of your mind is always on the slight buzz you feel between your thighs. It’s been there since the first kiss Bradley had trapped you in back at the table, and it hasn’t gone away since.
Your reading material isn’t helping. The characters, a soon-to-be-couple currently rivals on the swim team, are currently having a late night jacuzzi rendezvous. It's hot, steamy, and everything you want from Bradley.
You pray that he doesn't notice the clench of your thighs as you read on, trying to envision yourself in their current position. He's got her backed up against the wall of the jacuzzi, and every description of the noises he's making has you wanting to squirm in place for some sort of friction. He tilts her chin upwards with one thumb until she's looking back at him, reaches for her lips, and-
Bradley's hand smooths over the back of your thigh.
"Bradley," You warn, but he's two steps ahead of you.
"Relax, angel." He croons, the natural rasp in his voice sending heat straight south, "You just look a little tense. I was gonna give you a massage."
It's a game of chicken, a word Rooster doesn't like hearing because of the way Hangman uses it as a nickname for him. But you're not losing, so when his rough, large hands slide up your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your panties, you breathe deeply before turning back to your book.
He gives you a few moments of silence, and they're anything but comfortable. Tension is thrumming through every vein in your body, concentrated in handprint shapes wherever Bradley's palms press to your skin. He stays true to his word and massages your thighs, but his thumbs edge up the curve of your ass, closer to their target than he knows they should be.
His fingers knead and squeeze at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, paying special attention to the hypersensitive skin between your cunt and your thighs. When he ghosts his fingernail over the crease there and you clench your thighs together, he knows he's got you.
"What'cha reading?" He plays dumb, leaning over your shoulders while holding your ass steady, "Woah."
"Shut up," You huff, "Stop teasing me."
"I'm not teasing!" He insists, with a squeeze to your ass that proves the opposite, "I'm just curious, and then I look over your shoulder and see that."
"What," You scoff, "What's so shocking to you?"
"His broad form looms over her own smaller one," Bradley reads, voice deep and raspy where he's leaning over you. His voice is just beside your ear, and you feel his breath against your skin as he continues, "-muscles in his arms on full display despite the near-scalding water lapping over them. He cages her in his embrace, no escape possible even if she wanted one. But she doesn't, not as his large, rough thumb comes down to nudge at her puffy, sensitive clit beneath the water. The fabric of her bathing suit presents a delicious friction, and her hips jolt into his hand with a shockwave of ecstasy."
He comes to an abrupt stop, satisfied that your cheeks are burning hot, and your core is probably similar. He waits for your reply, and when it comes in a shaky, ‘so what?’, he tightens his grip on your hip ever so slightly.
“You think that would feel nice?” He asks, and if he purposefully strains the muscles in his arm where he plants his hand by your head, he hopes you don’t notice. His other hand snakes beneath your front, pinned between your waist and the mattress as he finds your clit with experienced ease.
“Like this?” He thumbs at the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your hips buck like they’re scripted to, “That feels good?”
“Bradley,” You’re barely able to whimper, chocolate definitely taking its toll as your insides writhe with flames.
He takes your whine as an admission, shutting your book carelessly and nipping at your earlobe as he pulls his hands back to your hips, “Roll over.”
“Brad,” You start, but he flips you himself.
“Roll over,” He gushes, and the second your lips are in his line of sight, he’s on them. His own press enthusiastically to yours, a heavy pant released into your mouth as he braces his knees on the mattress.
“I cant fucking take it anymore,” He groans, choking out his words between kiss after kiss pressed to your mouth. His tongue is sloppy, licking up your own like he's trying to swallow it.
He's tasting chocolate on your tongue and you're tasting some on his, a sweet flavor that only reminds you of the intense burning sensation between your legs.
"Laying there," He rasps, dragging in breath after breath that he later spends sucking your lips between his own, "Ass up in those pretty panties. You know I've got a thing for your ass. Mmf- and," He breathes, hand trailing up your waist, "-your stomach. And your tits," He squeezes them through the sheer pads of your bra, "Fuckin' love your tits."
His knees are holding up up on the mattress, and he's plants one of his hands beside your head, just in the dip between your neck and shoulder. He stretches it, nudges his thumb against your jaw and prompts you to open your mouth. When you do, he leans down, capturing your lips in another steamy kiss. You're having trouble focusing on one thing at a time, what with his tongue lapping sensually at your own in smooth, eager strokes. Then his hand, fingers rough and heavy as they pinch unforgivingly at your stiff nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. When you jolt into his touch, your hips buck with the motion, and you feel the hard press of his arousal against your eager core.
Bradley hums approvingly into the kiss, parting with a sloppy trail of saliva and speaking hotly against your lips. "Needy, hm? Gonna grind your sweet pussy all over me?
"Yeah," You breathe, and without the press of his lips to yours, your head tips back, exposing your neck for Bradley to fixate on next, "I need- Oh, Bradley, I need you to fuck me! I need you to fuck me so bad!"
"I thought you wanted to wait," He goads, his mustache grating against the sensitive, thin skin of your neck, "I thought you wanted to see how long you could take it."
"I did! And I can't-" You choke on your words, the sound coming out more of a moan as he sucks harshly, wetly at the skin of your neck, "I can't take it anymore! Fuck me!"
You accentuate your words with another desperate roll of your hips, grinding your clothed cunt over Bradley's bulge. He's straining in the loose fabric of his boxers, a fact that makes your mouth water, and Bradley tears himself away from your neck to wrestle with his undergarments.
"Hang on, sweet thing," He hums, in response to a disgruntled whimper of yours. He knows you're aching, burning with desire, because he is, too. His cock bounces free of his boxers and stands hard, angled towards his stomach and oozing pre. It's the most mouth-watering sight you've ever taken in, and your tingling cunt drools a gush of slick against the fabric of your panties.
It's a struggle to get his boxers off, and it almost looks silly as he wrestles them off from around his ankles. But it keeps you waiting, lets that desire burn just a little longer in your stomach before it's extinguished, and as much as you're yearning for relief, it feels good to prolong your pleasure.
"Okay, I- oh, fuck," Bradley hisses, his thumb against the pad of your panties as his fingers slip beneath the hemline. He feels slick soak through the fabric at the slightest pressure from his single finger, reveling in just how wet you've gotten while waiting for him.
"You're- god, you're dripping," Bradley groans, the sound thick and lustful as his face screws up in concentration, "I just- I- I want to-" He gives into his urges without even explaining them, dipping down to stick his face in your cunt like a man starved. He pants into your pussy, conflicted on whether he should suck more slick out of your eager sex or take a breath. He does a healthy balance of both, if maybe a little lacking in the oxygen department. He doesn't seem to care that he's being suffocated, though, and he tucks his face further into your cunt than seems humanly possible.
His tongue writhes skillfully through you, in and out of your needy hole, against the underside of your clit, against the rarely-caressed skin between your thighs and cunt. He's a messy eater, slick smeared over the lower half of his face, even glistening in his mustache.
"Aah, baby," You gasp, face pinched in half ecstasy, half apprehension as he sucks at your clit, "No, don't- I'm gonna cum!"
"Do it," He urges, tongue licking a long, wet, slick stripe up your cunt before delving back between your folds, "I want to, mmf- feel you cum on my face, baby. Do it, give it to me, I wanna feel your cunt suck me the fuck in."
"No, but-" You reach for his face, sitting up in your pleasured haze, "I want- I want you inside of me when I cum! Please, Brad, I need your- ah! -need your dick!"
"You can have it," He promises, fingers coming to bully your puffy clit while he focuses his tongue on your sopping cunt, "Later. Cum, baby, give it to me."
He's speaking harshly, and his tongue reflects that in the sturdy, rough way that he licks you out. It's akin to the way he kisses, and you suppose he's making out with your sloppy pussy the way that he's tonguing it now. And it works, his insistence, the sting of his mustache on the most sensitive parts of your body, the ever-present pressure against your clit, you feel white hot, blinding pleasure roll over your lower half like a wave of fire.
"Ah- oh god, Bradley," You grunt, voice tapering off into a whine, "-BradleyBradleyBradleyBradley-!"
"Come on," He mumbles, lips barely able to form words around your slick-soaked cunt. He talks you through your orgasm, perhaps less gentle than a reassuring 'good, you're doing so well for me,', but arousing just the same in its gruff demand.
Bradley might be making more noise than you. While you're cumming with various whimpers, moans, groans, and everything in between, he's licking it out of you with lust-filled songs of praise. Every vibration of his vocal chords flows straight south, humming through your trembling cunt as you cum onto his tongue.
He's eager to continue even when you're finished, licking and sucking desperately at your sensitive pussy. It feels good, but you're almost too sensitive already, and you're not waiting another second for his cock.
"No, no-" You reach for his hair, using gentle handfuls of the stuff to guide his face out of your cunt, "No, Brad, I want- mmf!"
He doesn't let you tell him what you want; he doesn't have to, he already knows. He knows what you really want is between his legs, so rather than give you the breath to explain it to him, he surges forwards, knocking his lips into yours and using the momentum to lay you back down onto the mattress.
"Shit," You breathe, feeling his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt immediately, "I- Bradley, I- oh!"
He slams into you with no hesitation, hips on a mission to fuse with your own as he rams his cock into you. It's relentless, more desperate than you've ever felt him before, and you clutch at his broad shoulders as he buries his face in your shoulder.
"Holy shit!" He huffs, a grunting, groaning mess, "I- Jesus, angel, you feel so good, I can't- nngh! I can't get enough. Oh god," He pants, mouth falling open and tongue flattening against your neck, swiping up over your jaw. His mouth latches there, sucking harshly just beneath your ear at the curve of your jaw. His hips drive the same steady pace into you, filling you up impossibly deep with each pump of his cock. It's mind-numbingly hard, probably achingly painful to Bradley, and he buries it inside of you to get relief. The more he thrusts the deeper he goes, until he's slamming into your sweet spot with superhuman fervor. It's like he's chasing something, balls landing heavy against the curve of your ass as he fucks into you.
"Bradley," You moan, nails scraping against the tan, toned skin of his back, "Baby, ah-! Oh my god, keep- keep going!"
"I'm close," He grunts, voice muffled slightly in what you suspect is shame. His libido is strong, and he doesn't usually finish out this fast. But the chocolate counts for something, and he'd spent who knows how many minutes with his face buried inside your cunt with no relief down south. You're not surprised he's cumming quickly, nor are you put off by it.
In fact, you're aroused by it. The feeling of Bradley fucking into you so eagerly, so roughly, so needy; it gets you going. You feel another wave of pleasure begin lapping at your underbelly, maybe easier to rise this time because of the swell of the last one. The constant motion of Bradley's thick cock can't be doing any harm, either, and with every flex of his tongue over your neck as he sucks bruises into your skin, you feel your orgasm approaching.
Apparently, the way that your nails dig into Bradley's skin is encouragement for him, as well. Your thighs tremble from the weight of your previous orgasm, and the impending pressure of your next one, and Bradley's dick twitches like it's painful for him to keep it together.
"S'okay, Brad," You pant, scraping a hand up his back to cradle the back of his neck. He's still suckling on your neck, tongue and teeth working in tandem to mar your skin with marks, "S'okay, cum, honey. Feels so good, you- ooh, you feel so fucking good!"
Your encouragement helps, and his dick twitches again. You tug on his hair, and his thighs tense. But what really does it is the way you yank his head back with your fistful or his hair, pulling him out of your neck to kiss him and inviting him to occupy his tongue with your own instead of your throat.
The second your tongue brushes against his own, he cums. It's like a dam bursting, every ounce of arousal he'd tried holding in and prolonging bursting forth from his cockhead straight into your leaking cunt. You're already slick enough from all of your own release, but his gushes from the seam between his cock and your cunt, stretched and fucked dumb.
"Oh, oh my god," Bradley pants, the words flowing directly between your lips as he mouths at your tongue. He's desperate to do something with his mouth, he always has been, and it's no surprise that he'd taken time to appreciate your cunt earlier. He licks over your tongue, his own tucking to the inside of your cheek for a brief second before he sucks at yours again. It only makes your own arousal more intense, and before you know it, your second, possibly more intense orgasm is seizing you, tensing your muscles and spasming through you.
He cums for a long time, dick twitching and spurting cum the more he makes out with you, and the more your cunt convulses around him in your own orgasm. Your kiss is sloppy, it's messy, there's drool leaking down the corners of your mouth, and that's what makes it so effective to stretch out his orgasm. When you're both sure you couldn't cum more if you tried, he slumps over your chest, his full weight on you as he lays panting on your sweaty skin.
"Jesus Christ," He groans, voice broken and raspy with strain, "That- that was- fuck, the best sex we've ever had."
"Mm-hm," You nod lazily, enjoying a rare moment of breathing freely, "Yeah, we- we need to use those chocolates again."
"Yeah," He agrees emphatically, his mustache prickling against the skin at the slope of your breast, "I didn't think it would work. Not like that, Christ."
"I'm glad it did," You muse, and you feel Bradley shift against your thigh, his cock already half-stiff again. He grinds it into you, what you think is accidentally, but his groan lets you know it felt nice.
"Baby," You start, but he's already rubbing up against you once more, humping his hardening cock against your thigh.
"I need- I just need a little more," He almost whimpers, tightening his hold on your upper half, "Babe, I need- more, please!"
"Okay," You soothe, kissing his sweaty forehead, "Okay, here."
You reach down, hand at your side to feel for his cock. It's not hard to find, hot and heavy where he's bucking it against your thigh. You wrap your palm around the shaft, your thumb nudging up against the tip. You flatten your finger against his slit, pumping your hand up the length when it makes him jolt. He keeps his face buried in your chest, drool seeping from his lips and dripping down your breast. You feel it trickle over your nipple, sending a chill up your spine as it cools on your skin.
"Oh my god," He moans, lips desperately roving your skin until they find your nipple. He latches onto it, lips pursed and tongue relentlessly swirling over the stiffened bud. He keeps bucking his hips into your hand, though you're moving your fist to meet him. Remnants of his first orgasm and your second are slicked all up his shaft, and it's adequate lube as you stroke him towards another release.
Bradley's teeth pinch momentarily at your nipple, a sensation that makes you jolt. In doing so, you squeeze his cock slightly, your thumb pressing hard into his slit.
"Fuck!" He gasps, lips parting only to get the word out before wrapping around your nipple once more. Now that he knows what you're sensitive to at the moment he's merciless, nipping and biting and tugging at your tit with his teeth.
You're fucked out beyond belief, but Bradley's dick is practically pulsing in your grip, and the more tense his thighs get, the more restless he is on your tit.
Finally, he breaks away with a breath, "Wait! Wait, I wanna cum on your- in your mouth, babe."
"Okay." You pant, instantly on board, "Here, sit up, and I'll-"
You make to do the same, trying to struggle off of the pillow to prop yourself up against the headboard. But he holds you down with one strong hand, straddling your face instead. His cock hangs thick and heavy between his thighs, an easy reach for you. All you have to do is stick your tongue out and you can lick over half of it, something that makes him buck forwards into your mouth.
You gag slightly as the tip of his cock hits your throat, and he lets out a strangled grunt that tries turning into a whimper at the end. It's a flattering sound, encouraging you to wrap your lips around him and bob your head up and down as best you can while laying down.
it takes only a few sloppy strokes to the base of his cock and a gentle massage to his balls to get him to cum a second time, and you wish you had more time to appreciate the way his thick, toned thighs frame your head. They're nearly suffocating you, tan hunks of flesh and muscle, and want to bite them. You refrain, focusing on tonguing the slit of his cock so that he cums into your mouth.
"Holy shit!" He breathes, tone incredulous as he fucks down your throat, "Yeah, yeah- oh my god, babe, keep sucking, mmf- yeah!"
His cum spurts warm and plentiful over your tongue, something you're grateful for even if you almost choke on it. He pulls himself out of you to give you room to swallow, stroking himself through his orgasm, and he doesn't comment on the weak cough you give when struggling to swallow the cum pooling in your mouth. A drop lands on your lower lip, and you're eager to lick it away once you've finished your mouthful.
Bradley's looming over you now, breathing heavy and still straddling your face. You can't help but turn your head to kiss at his thigh, nipping softly at the muscle there and eliciting a gentle yelp from him.
"Easy," He laughs breathlessly, stroking your cheek, "I can't take any more. Jesus, I'm- I'm fucked out, babe."
"Me too," You agree, breathing equally heavily, "Brad, gimme my phone, I wanna do the- the trend thing."
He might not understand, but he complies. He dismounts from the mattress, thighs sadly no longer caging your head between them, and hands you your phone that's charging on the nightstand.
You cover yourself with the bedsheets while Bradley slips his boxers back on, and he comes when you beckon him to get in frame of the camera beside you. You're both the picture of fucked out, sweaty, panting, swollen lips and glazed-over eyes. You hit record, voice raspy when you speak: "Those chocolate things, they- they work good."
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feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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gatorbites-imagines · 5 months
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may I request Scott McCall x male reader smut where Scott a bottom I have not found a fic where scott is a bottom anywhere and I love to see more support for this fandom pls
Scott McCall x male reader
Ficlet
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Scott has always had a special part in my heart ever since I watched Teen Wolf years ago. You are so right about the lack of bottom Scott content, so I hope this helps scratch that itch a little bit.
Reader is a kanima-wolf combo, like Jackson, cuz I love the kanima plot. did someone say tailplay? cuz theres tailplay.
I had a lot of fun writing this ngl, hope you guys enjoy.
Scotts claws dug deep groves into the floor, a high-pitched whine leaving him as the powerful flexible muscle of your tail curled around his middle, dragging him closer to where you were crouched near the shadowed corner of the room.
The day had been spent high strung on your part, as Scott had seemed to make it his mission to tease you. From sultry looks as he bit his lip, or the way he would push his scent at you specifically to leave you agitated. He seemed to take it as a win when he caught your tongue flicking out between your lips, tasting the air as your leftover reptilian instincts demanded of you.
You had been a kanima when you were bitten, around the same time as Jackson. It stemmed from similar issues to Jackson, something deep and emotional that left you feeling like you weren’t in control of yourself. You had to live up to very high expectations set by your parents, who were very strict about everything you did, also making it impossible for you to accept your sexuality at the time.
But with the help of the pack, you came to accept yourself, and like Jackson, you turned into something more of a hybrid, a mixture of a kanima and a werewolf. Unlike Jackson, you always fell more back onto your reptilian urges than the wolf urges, which was why you were now hissing softly as your slitted eyes bore into the naked back of your lover as you dragged him towards you.
With a flick of your tongue, you could taste the strong arousal in the bedroom, Scott’s bedroom, the faint scent of precum reaching your heightened senses. With a rumbled hiss, you wrench down the pajama pants Scott had been wearing, striking your lightly scaled hand across his naked ass. “You’re so dirty Scott, you were waiting for me, huh?” you hiss, squinting up at him as he looks at you over his shoulder, a slight squint to his eyes that told you that your guess had been correct.
Your tail released his middle as he laid out flat across the floor, lifting his hips just enough for you to pull his pants all the way down and off without tearing them. A whimper left him as your claws ran across his thick thighs, groping the muscle underneath with an appreciative hiss. “So needy” you mumble, digging your thumbs into the dimples of his back, making him keen breathlessly.
Your pupils shrank into slits as you watched how his muscles tensed, his back arching so beautifully as Scott shuffled his knees apart, trying to fit your torso between them as you scraped your sharp teeth across his lower back. The threat of your venom had only ever served to arouse him further, the possibility of being completely paralyzed sending a bolt of thrill and lust through your lover’s entire body.
It was something you had only experimented with once or twice, when you both had felt a little more in control of your more beastly half. But as of now, your tail lashed out, knocking something random off a shelf in the background. Scotts softly glowing eyes met yours as he looked back at you again, audibly gulping and whining softly, almost beckoning you to touch him more.
Spreading his cheeks apart, your tongue started to roll out of your mouth, ready to slither inside him to spread him open the way you knew he loved the most, until you saw the familiar shiny sheen across his pucker. “Did you prep yourself Scott?” you asked with a slight lisp, your longer than humanly possible tongue still hanging out of your mouth.
Instead of answering, Scott simply blushed and buried his head into his folded arms, his knees shuffling to allow him to lift his hips farther, giving you all the answer you needed. Instead of teasing him further, you crawled up his body, letting your torso drag across his back until your chest was pressed against his back, chin hooked on his shoulder.
Your tail coiled around one of his thighs, far up enough that part of your warm scales brushed around his pouch, making him twitch and moan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of smooth scales against his skin. “You’ve always been such a freak Scott, never imagined you’d be so turned on by scales” you snicker, tone teasing but also thick with want, half hissed as your tongue felt too long for your mouth.
“Maybe I should just fuck you with my tail instead, what do you say?” you murmur into his ear, the tip of your tail just barely pressing against his slick pucker, making Scotts hips flex as his jaw drops in a soundless moan. You knew it was a fantasy of his, you bet hed even let him fuck him when you were still just a kanima, ruled by a master and mind not your own.
You had seen his search history, you knew the kind of stuff he was into, and if that just so happened to always involve a lot of stuff that was similar to your anatomy? Who would have to know but you, Scott, and God.
The tip of your tail just barely pressed inside, your tongue reptilian tongue pressing against his pulse point as Scott moaned, head falling to the side to give you as much access to his throat as possible. It was an extremely submissive pose for a true alpha like Scott, but it always served to make you feel a deep feral rush, to somehow get someone like Scott under you and writhing.
But before your tail could breach the loosened ring of his hole, you pulled it back, doing your best to ignore the whined out “no, no, please” from Scott. Instead, you reached down and undid your belt, quickly releasing your hard length and letting it rest between the globes of his ass, rolling your hips against his to let him feel it.
“Next time, my cute little alpha” you tease, your sharp teeth scraping hard enough against his shoulder to make blood bead up at the bites, but they quickly healed over, only giving you a slight taste. “Please, please, please” Scott whimpered, sounding almost near tears. Its seems you hadn’t been the only one worked up all day, as Scott almost outright panted for your touch, your cock, your tail, anything.
You swore you could see him drooling as you finally press inside him, his hips shoving back against yours hard enough, that if you weren’t holding him still, he would have impaled himself onto your dick almost immediately. A slight warning hiss-growl left you, as if warning him to stay still. A rumble left him in response, his inner alpha seemingly feeling disrespected by your display, even as Scott arched and moaned for more.
Scott was only given a moment to adjust, just how he liked it, before you started moving your hips. A clawed slightly scaled hand was placed between his shoulder blades, shoving his face harder against the floor as your hips struck against his own, his noises rising in volume and neediness.
Scotts claws ached as they dug into the floor, his fangs flashing as his jaw dropped, open mouthed gasps and moans leaving him as the noises were punched out of him, tongue almost hanging out as drool ran down his chin.
As you struck his prostate, he almost wailed, but before that noise could leave him, the tip of your tail was shoved between his teeth, pressing down against his tongue, and tickling the back of Scotts throat, only making his eyes roll back as he groaned.
Your noises were akin to chuffing as your hips slammed against his, claws digging into Scotts back and hip hard enough to draw blood as venom filled drool dripping from your mouth and down into the divot of his spine. Scott gagged as your tail shoved deeper into his mouth, part of it pushing down his throat as he moaned and sucked on it like it was your cock, spit and drool running down his chin and creating a puddle under him.
There was no way for him to beg with words for you to go faster, but Scott was able to wrench one of his hands from the floor, reaching back to hold onto your hip, urging you to go faster, deeper, harder. So, with a deep hissed growl, you did, striking his sensitive prostate with the precision of an expert, making him keen around the scaley meat of your tail.
You weren’t even sure when Scott came, his cock squirting across the floor in thick white spurts, his eyes rolling back as the euphoria crashed through his body and making him tighten around you. But you were too consumed by your own pleasure, hisses and growls leaving you as you kept pounding into him, taking great pleasure in the wet slick noise of your hips meeting his ass, and how it left him moaning and crying out for more.
When you finally reached your end, you crushed your hips against his, your sharp teeth digging into his shoulder as you came, cumming deep inside him in the way you knew he loved as it made him feel so full of you. Your tail withdrew from his mouth with a wet sputter, strings of drool hanging from the deep green scaled to his pink wet mouth, a noise so high pitched you barely heard it as he came a second time.
Purring filled the room as you held Scott, grinding lazily into him as you milked your mutual orgasms as much as possible, before Scott finally slumped, completely limp and panting. You would think you had injected him with your venom with how limp he went, but in reality, it was just the post orgasm bliss.
With a soft kiss pressed against the already healing bite, you carefully pull you and get Scott to his feet, shuffling him into the bathroom to get him cleaned up, maybe even give him a nice warm shower so you two can be washed up. After getting him dressed in a new part of pajama pants, you tuck him into bed, expertly cleaning up the mess of blood, drool, and other bodily fluids left on the floor. You’ll have to find a way to fix the groves you guys left in the floor, but that was for later.
When all was said and done, you could finally allow yourself to crawl into bed with Scott, the scales on your skin receding for the most part, claws and sharp teeth disappearing to where they came from, and your eyes returning to your usual ones. The only thing that stayed was your tail, which curled around Scott in a loving embrace as you pulled him close to your chest.
Scott let out a soft huff, snuffling closer to your neck before he went limp once more, almost laying completely on top of you, basking in your presence and scent as he felt safe enough to be completely vulnerable, sleep quickly rushing up on him. You didn’t feel tired, so like usual, you laid back and held Scott as he snored softly, one hand rubbing up and down his back as you scrolled your phone with the other. His body heat always left you feeling sluggish afterwards, some kind of reptile reaction, but it made you feel safer to watch over him as he slept, so that it what you did, until Scott was ready to wake up again.
303 notes · View notes
poppy-in-the-woods · 2 months
Text
My Ride or Die
Plot: Noah is your husband. Five years ago, he killed a man that was attacking you. The judge ruled that, since he shot him several times after he already had been stabbed by you, it was no longer self-defense. He got twenty years, and that was two and a half years ago. Today it’s his birthday, and you prepared something special for the conjugal visit.
Pairing: Noah x Female Reader
Word Count: 2904
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Tags: smut, oral sex (female and male receiving), rough sex, love bites, strong language, convict!Noah, mentions of violence.
Author's note: This is, as usual, unbeataed. I also wrote it directly in English to practice, and it has only been proofread by DeepL (I follow the rule that if the translation is grammatically correct, then everything is probably right). Let me know how I did, and hope you enjoy.
@artificialbreezy
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It was Noah’s birthday, and, like the last two, he was locked away. He didn’t regret it one bit; what he did, he did it for you, the love of his life. It was odd that you didn’t visit him the previous week, since you’ve been pretty consistent with your weekly visits, but he knew you would never miss it if not for a good reason.
“Davis!” one of the prison guards called him.
Noah was watching TV with his friends, Nick, Folio and Jolly.
“What?” he asked, turning around to look at the man.
“Conjugal visit,” the guard said.
He got up, his friends wolf-whistling and patting his back.
“Lucky bastard!” said Jolly.
Noah followed the guard to the designated space, through several corridors and doors.
“Have fun with that pretty little thing of yours,” the guard said, with a gross tone.
Noah ignored him and entered the room. The door closed behind him with a loud clank, and the lock clicked in place. You got up the bed and ran to him, hugging him.
“Sorry I missed the last week, I got an unexpected change of schedule at work,” you said. He said nothing, but hold you in his arms, pushing you flush against his chest. “I should have called you, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, and you know I can’t keep a secret from you.”
“You prepared a birthday surprise for me?” he asked, smiling, pulling away just enough to look at your face. You nodded, smiling back at him. “Let’s see it, then.”
“Sit down and close your eyes,” you instructed him. “And don’t open them until I say you can.”
“But I like to watch you undress!” he complained, pouting.
“You're gonna have to go without it this time,” you replied.
“Okay,” he sighed, defeated, and sat on the bed, closing his eyes.
You undressed, putting your clothes on the chair that was in a corner. The whole room was pretty austere, just the bed, one nightstand and the chair, no rugs and no decoration. A door led to a small bathroom. You stood before him, resisting the urge to hug yourself.
“You can look now,” you instructed him.
The lingerie set you were wearing, in fiery red, was the most lace-y and risqué you owned, with lots of pieces and transparent panels. It also showed you new tattoo, his name, right between your breasts.
“Baby,” he panted, almost drooling at the sight.
“Do you like it?” you asked, turning around slowly so he could appreciate all of it.
“I fucking love it!” he said. You straddled his thighs. “I can’t wait to take it off, though.”
You chuckled, kissing him, grinding your hips against his crotch while his hands roamed your body to finally settle on your hips. He squeezed your barely clothed ass, pushing you against him; his cock was fully hard now.
He began undressing with your help, and let you push him down on the mattress once he was fully naked; pushing the fabric of the panties aside, you rubbed your pussy against his erection, coating him in your juices. He bit his lip, suppressing a moan.
“You feel so good, baby” he said. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”
 You kissed him, smiling, and got up to retrieve a condom from the nightstand. During your first conjugal visit, Noah had joked that you were fucking on tax-payer’s money, and you couldn’t help but remember every time.
He got up, resting on his elbows, to watch you roll the condom over his dick. Without wasting any time, you sat on his lap again, guiding him to your entrance, sinking slowly until he was fully inside. You both moaned at the same time.
“Have I told you this is the best pussy I’ve ever had?” he said.
“Just once or twice every time we fuck,” you laughed.
“Well, that way you won’t forget,” he said, gripping your hips with such force it might leave some bruises. You started moving, moaning into his ear. He kissed your neck. “I spend every day we’re apart daydreaming of us, fucking each other’s brains out.”
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
“Huh?”
“Where are we in those scenarios of yours?” you clarified.
“Oh. Well, it varies… our home, the woods, the beach… this prison,” he admitted. “I imagine it’s empty and we fuck in every room and office that there is.”
“You do?”
“I once almost got in trouble because of it,” he laughed.
“You gotta tell me that… after we’ve finished this round,” you said.
“Agreed,” he said.
You picked up your pace, riding him like he was a wild stallion you wanted to tame, and it was not an exaggeration, because while he let you be on top, he refused to be a passive part, and moved his hips in time with yours, all while praising you and exploring your body with his hands and mouth.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum!” he said after more or less ten minutes, giving your butt another squeeze.
“Cum for me,” you encouraged him, gently tugging at the roots of his hair.
“But you haven’t…”
“It doesn’t matter,” you interrupted him. “It’s your birthday, you get to cum first, and I’m not gonna stop until your balls are empty. Be a good boy and give it to me!”
Noah came, loudly moaning your name. You kissed him, your hips stopping gradually. He laid back on the bed, breathing shallowly.
“Good God!” he exclaimed, pushing his hair out of his face. He turned his face to you. “How can you manage to fuck like that and still look so innocent right after?”
“It’s a gift,” you joked, lying beside him. “Tell me about that story you mentioned before, please.”
“Okay. So the other day, there was this guy, a newbie, that decided to pick on me at lunch. He kept trying to bust my balls (and not in a fun way), so I pushed him. He tried to punch me, but failed, and I punched him, you know, to show him who’s boss. That afternoon, the warden calls me into his office,” he began, resting on his side to look at you more comfortably. “He tells me ‘Davis, you gotta watch out that attitude or I will be obligated to put you in isolation, and you won’t be seeing your wife for a month.’”
“What a prick,” you commented.
“Right? The thing is, the moment he mentioned you, all I could think of was us, fucking on his desk,” Noah laughed. “I could picture you so vividly, butt-naked over his paperwork, legs curled around my hips, hands on my shoulders, head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure… I got a hard-on. Can you imagine?” he asked, you laughed. Yes, you could imagine it.
» I was so hard and he was still berating me, ‘Davis this’ and ‘Davis that’, and ‘watch out, lest some more years are added to your sentence!’. And then he realized I was not listening. He looked at me, really looked at me, you know? And I was totally spaced out, cock fully hard and gripping my own knees so hard my knuckles went white, trying to contain the urge to touch myself. Because in my mind, I had already made you come three times, and now you were riding me, just like you did now, your glorious tits bouncing on my face, and I swear I could have come with that thought alone. He had to ruin it, though, snapping me back to reality.
“What did he say?”
“He screamed my name, full volume. ‘Snap out of it, son, she’s not here and she won’t be for a long time if you don’t control yourself! I could send your sorry ass to isolation for this alone!’” Noah told you, doing his best impression of the warden. “So I apologized to him and he dismissed me. I went back to my cell, still half hard, and jerked off.”
“That’s kinda funny” you admitted.
“I missed you so much…!” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I miss you every day, the touch of your skin, the sound of your laugh, and your smell… wish I could bottle it so I could get drunk on it!”
“I miss you too, my love. I hate that you have to be here, but I’m grateful that I can still see you,” you said, kissing him briefly, “and that we can still have these moments.”
“I hate that I am in here too, but I would do it again if I had to. Killing for you is always worthy,” he said, resting on his back again.
You moved to rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him and putting a leg between his. He had saved you and ended up there for you, the least you could do was support him through his sentence.
“You’re the best husband I could wish for!” you said, caressing his tattooed chest. “Think you’re ready for round two?”
“Fuck yeah I am!”
“Help me take this off,” you asked, touching the lace.
“Sure, baby!” he said, his nimble fingers working the clasps.
After a minute, you were as naked as he was. Looking at him, you knelt on the floor. He looked back at you a bit confused.
“I made you a promise before: until your balls are empty, and I fully intend to keep that promise,” you reminded him.
“Okay, but you still haven’t come,” he pointed out.
“I can touch myself while sucking you, if you want,” you suggested.
“Or you can sit on my face and we give oral to each other at the same time,” he countered.
“You’re sure about that?”
“Damn sure! C’mon, baby, you have a seat waiting for you here,” he encouraged you, laying down again.
“Okay, as you wish, it’s your birthday.”
“You’re damn right it is!”
Noah always had a talented tongue and he loved eating you out. It was kind of hard to concentrate on sucking him off while he was working his magic with your pussy, though. Then he added two fingers to the mix, massaging your G-spot the way he knew you liked it, and it was impossible to concentrate.
“Noah, my love, I can’t think if you keep doing that,” you warned him.
“Don’t worry, just ride my face and then you can kneel on the floor and finish sucking me,” he said.
“O-okay,” you panted in response. “But let me turn around.”
You changed positions so you could make eye contact with him. His free hand flew to one of your boobs, massaging it. You put our hand over his and arched your back, moaning. You had toys back at home, and you always thought of him while you masturbated, but nothing compared to the real deal. The orgasm shook you with such force it made you see white and tears rolled down your cheeks. You collapsed on the bed beside him.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked cupping your face with a worried expression, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.
“I don’t want to go home,” you said. “I want to stay with you, in here, forever.”
“I don’t want this to end either, but we’re having a good time, aren’t we?”
“The greatest time, that’s precisely why I don’t want it to end,” you said, pouting. “I’m gonna hug you so tight the guard will have to take me to the cell with you. I can sleep in your bed, I don’t mind,” you half-joked.
“I think Nick would mind if we don’t let him sleep,” he laughed. “And you know I can’t resist you when you’re so close.”
It was true. Luckily, you had a similar sex drive to him. You kissed him, desperately, blindly, and he kissed you back with equal fervor. For a couple of minutes, you lied there, closely embracing, trying to devour each other, all teeth and tongue and ragged breath, until you couldn’t take it. His lips moved to your neck while you took a gulp of air. His cock was still hard, heavy against your leg.
“How do you want me to take care of this?” you asked, caressing it.
“Let me fuck you hard,” he said.
For him, hard meant fast and rough, leaving bite marks all over your body, and it usually left you feeling a bit tender downstairs for a couple of days, the slight discomfort a sweet reminder of how much he loved you.
“Okay, let’s do it,” you agreed.
He began by marking your body, biting and sucking everywhere, claiming you as his.
“Fucking love this,” he said, pausing for a moment and gently brushing the tip of his nose to the black letters over your sternum.
“Glad you do,” you replied, fingers running through his hair.
“Pass me a condom, baby,” he asked.
You did, watching him fumble a bit with the foil package before he rolled it over his erection, mentally bracing for what was about to come. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it that way, but you still needed to prepare. He squirted one of the single-dose packages of lube over the rubber to make it easier on you.
Maybe your mother was right and you had a masochistic vein, you thought while he fucked you hard in several positions and you touched yourself.
“Harder!” you demanded.
“I don’t think you can take it harder, baby,” he said, panting.
“Please,” you begged.
“Okay, since you ask so nicely…” he said.
He pushed your face against the mattress, hand fisting the roots of your hair, your ass in the air, and he penetrated you again, making you whimper.
“You okay, baby?” he asked.
“Yes!”
“Good. I love you, so, so much!” he exclaimed, pounding into you.
“I love you too!”
You were feeling the orgasm so close it was nearly within reach.
“Almost there, baby!” he warned you.
“Cum for me,” you commanded.
You reached your orgasm more or less at the same time as him, your walls contracting around him, and he screamed your name while he emptied his load in the condom. He collapsed on the bed beside you, panting. For a moment or two while you recovered, none of you moved or said anything. After that, you turned to look at him and hugged him.
“You almost rip my dick off,” he joked, smoothing your hair.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you milked me dry.”
“I told you, I made you a promise,” you smiled.
“My balls are empty,” he laughed.
“Good, because I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to have sex for two weeks, and then my period is due,” you informed him.
“Normal visits, then,” he said. “Can you bring me a pastrami sandwich from the deli I like?” he requested.
“Sure!”
“You’re so good to me!” he sighed, kissing the top of your head.
“You’re certainly lucky that my libido is as high as yours and I like the same sex stuff you do,” you laughed.
“Yeah, I am lucky. But next time we’ll focus on you, okay?”
“Yeah, sure, you still have one more birthday wish, if that’s how you want to spend it, fine by me,” you said, kissing his clavicle. “I love when you give me lots of orgasms until I can’t take it anymore.”
“I certainly love doing that,” he chuckled, “and you’ve been such a good girl you deserve it.”
Not long after, you had to go. After one last kiss, the guard took Noah deep inside the prison while you left. His friends were still hanging out in the tv room.
“How’s the missus?” asked Folio.
“She’s okay. Her boss is still an asshole, but it’s no big deal,” he said, sitting on the chair.
“Saw her crossing the street. She was almost limping,” Jolly commented.
“We had a heated birthday lovemaking session,” Noah explained, with a smug expression.
“I bet, I thought I could hear her screaming your name a couple of times,” Nick laughed.
“Last week she got my name tattooed between her tits,” he told them. “I can’t wait ‘til it’s healed so I can lick it while we fuck.”
“Damn, that’s hot!” Folio sighed. “Wish I had a missus like yours.”
“We all wish we had a wife like Noah’s,” Jolly laughed.
Later that night, when Noah and Nick were alone in the cell, Nick dared to bring out a subject they usually didn’t talk about. He was the only one who knew Noah and you from before the prison, and the three of you had gone on a bender quite some times.
“You think if we tell the warden about that one wild night in Miami, he’ll let me go in with you the next conjugal visit?” he half joked.
“No way. Besides, that was years ago and we were drunk.”
“I know. Still, it was the best head.”
“She does give pretty killer blowjobs,” Noah admitted, smiling. Maybe you could give him one next time before he dedicated himself to you.
“Take care of her, man, or some free guy will snatch her up!”
“That could never happen. She’s my ride or die and I’m hers.”
While they were talking, you were writing a letter.
Dear Noah,
It’s only been a few hours since we last saw each other, but I already miss you...
230 notes · View notes
mrsbarnesblog · 7 months
Text
sandcastles
masterlist ko-fi ao3
CEO! Husband! Bucky Barnes x Wife! Reader
Summary: Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy.
Words count: 1.6k
Warnings: modern setting, CEO Bucky, they have a daughter, fluff, real love
Author’s note: this one was inspired by Sebastian’s appearance in Paris. he really gave me a heart attack with that look❤️‍🔥
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Bucky Barnes was a busy man. Running a multi-million-dollar company wasn’t the easiest thing, but something that he cared more about than this job was his family. His beautiful wife and daughter.
You always loved and appreciated the attention, support, and endless love that your husband gave, even when you just started dating eight years ago. As soon as you met, it took some time for both of you to finally admit your feelings, but when you got together, it was perfect. You’ve never felt that way in your life before. When you were younger, everyone told you that you wouldn’t be able to find a person because of your high standards, but when you started dating James Buchanan Barnes, you knew that it was forever.
A beautiful, respectful, and caring man who would do anything for you.
For the past two months, he has been more distant. His company was getting bigger; he had too many meetings, and too many new things required his whole attention. You understood it; of course you did. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss him. Your daughter felt it too. She was totally daddy’s girl, so being away from him for too long upset her, even though she was trying to be tough and careless, just like her dad when he was working.
You talked to her about her dad’s work, and she was a smart girl for a 3-year-old. She understood that he has a lot to do right now and that he still loves her more than anything in this world.
Today he returned home only after 2 am., you heard that he went to take a shower in a different room, probably not to wake you up. But you were too eager to spend as much time with him as possible, even if it was when he was falling asleep.
Bucky came into the room quietly. As soon as he got under the blanket, his warm and strong arms wrapped around you. He pulled you closer to him, burying his nose into your neck.
"I’m sorry, doll. Again." He took a deep breath, enjoying your scent, which he missed so much. "I love you."
"That’s okay, baby." You moved even closer to him, burying your fingers into his wet hair, and left a kiss on his temple. "I love you too. Now take some rest."
You hadn't even started to fall asleep when you heard a weird noise outside your bedroom, and then the door slightly opened.
"Daddy? Mommy?" A little voice came through the silence of the room. "Are you asleep?" Your daughter suddenly sobbed, and you and Bucky immediately sat on the bed, reaching for the nightstand lamps.
"Hey, angel, what happened? Come here." Bucky’s voice was very soft and gentle, as always when he talked to your daughter. She came closer to the bed, and Bucky picked her up, putting her on his lap. She was tightly holding her favorite white wolf, which you gifted Bucky as a joke because of his nickname at work. Your daughter's eyes were a little bit red, her hair messy, and her cheeks wet with tears. You moved closer to them, gently rubbing her face.
"What’s going on? You saw a bad dream?" You quietly asked, but she just shook her head.
"I— I—" She was obviously too upset to put her words together, so Bucky started to rub her back, whispering a quiet "sh-h".
"I— miss you, daddy." As soon as these words left her mouth, you and Bucky froze, and she started crying even harder. "I don’t s-see you, and me and mom—mommy are always alone."
Bucky looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were full of tears. The last thing he wanted to do was upset either of you. He felt that his heart was ripping apart. You made your daughter cry, you idiot. Your wife deserves better.
You just put your hand on his shoulder and squeezed, already knowing where his mind went. He always wanted to give his family everything, and the fact that he put work above his two favorite people in the world made him sick.
"Angel, hey, baby, look at me." Bucky turned back to your daughter, grabbing her little face with his hands and gently wiping away her tears. "I promise that the day after tomorrow we will go somewhere. Only mommy, you, and me, okay?"
"But—but you’re working."
"I know, angel. But I didn't want to make you feel lonely or to stay away for too long from your mom." He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to leave a kiss. "We will go wherever you want to. Maybe stay there for the week. You would like that?" He smiled at your daughter, and she happily giggled, wrapping herself around Bucky’s neck. "I love you. Both of you. You two are my whole life, and I'll do anything to make you happy."
You softly smiled at him, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on his lips.
Your daughter put away her white wolf and opened her other arm, wanting you to join her and Bucky in a hug.
That night she stayed in your bed because she almost passed out in Bucky’s arms but still held onto you both too tightly. The three of you happily curled under the blanket, with your daughter in between. Bucky knew that it was time for him to finally make the right decision. To choose his family.
As Bucky promised, one day later your little family was on a vacation where no one could disturb you. He left Steve, Sam, and Natasha, his closest and oldest friends, in charge of everything, canceled all the meetings, and took you and your daughter on the private jet that brought you here. One of the most beautiful places you’ve ever been.
It was quiet. No strangers, no annoying noise, no worries. Just the three of you on the beach with a perfect little house and warm, crystal-clear water.
You were wearing a light flowy dress, and Bucky, finally free from those annoying suits, chose trousers with a white tank top and shirt on top of it.
You two were sitting under the sunset on a blanket with food and a bottle of wine, while your daughter was playing near the water with sand. It was such an amazing evening; just everything was perfect, and as you were watching your smiling husband, you felt that you had fallen in love once again.
"You keep staring at me, doll, You ‘kay?" He finally turned his face to you, and you couldn't hold your wide smile, which he immediately returned.
"I’m okay. It’s just… everything is perfect here—the beach, the house, you two here." You covered your eyes with your hand because of the setting sun. "You know, you’ve been here for a couple of hours, but you look much better. Your skin is glowing, you’re happy, and, god, that hair bun looks really hot." Bucky’s smile grew wilder because of your words.
He grabbed you in bridal style and set you across his lap, wrapping his hands around your waist. You slightly screamed, not being ready for such movements, but then happily melted into your husband's touch.
"So you think that I look hot?" A cheesy grin crossed his face, and you playfully rolled your eyes.
"Do you think I would’ve married you if I thought otherwise, James?" You arched an eyebrow at him. Your hands found the perfect place under Bucky’s blue shirt by themselves. God, it's been too long since you spent good time together alone.
"What do you think about the idea that when we get home, we send our daughter to visit her amazing grandparents, so we could be completely alone for a couple of days?" He said it as if he was reading your mind, so you just silently nodded. "Doll, you’re too beautiful for this damn world; I can’t even understand how I was able to be far away from you for that long. I missed you so much, baby." Bucky’s hands slipped lower on your hips, while his lips were leaving sweet kisses on the side of your neck.
"Not here, Buck; we’re not alone, remember?" You nodded back at your daughter, who was honestly more interested in building sandcastles.
"Of course. Just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for my absence. I got so involved in work that I didn’t even notice that you too were hurt. I’ve never wanted to do that. I’m sorry. And I love you. So fucking much." Bucky connected your foreheads and put his right hand on your cheek.
"Don’t be sorry. I know that you want better for us and that you want to do everything right. It’s okay to make mistakes sometimes. You know, you are such a great dad because your daughter’s tears made you leave everything and spend time with us. And I’m forever thankful for this." You smiled, holding his stubbled face in your hands. "I love you, James."
You two connected with a kiss. It wasn’t too rough or desperate. It was just pure love and adoration for one another. Bucky was slowly moving his lips, feeling the need for your taste, your smell, and your touch. Your little bubble didn’t last too long, though, not after your daughter finally wanted your attention.
"Mommy! Daddy!" You pulled away from the kiss, looking back at your daughter, who was now all in the sand. "Do you want to help me build a castle?"
You looked at Bucky, who had the same smile on his face.
"Of course, angel. What do you need from us?"
742 notes · View notes
nerak-01 · 9 months
Text
TEASER of "Uncle's Play Date" - uncle!konig x college girl!reader (technically nsfw build up)
(this is just a segment. lemme know if i should scrap or write into a fic! reblogs/comments appreciated!) Yes, I am re-blogging an old piece bc it didn't get any attention. Anyway, enjoy~!
tw: age gap, corruption kink, dom!konig, konig being a perv, no actual sex though
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You were an awful liar. This was clear as day when you first started forming heart eyes every time your new step dad, Simon, brought along his close co-worker, Konig. Konig. KONIG. You would get tired of hearing the name the second you get tired of seeing him in gray sweats. He was a man with a haughty physique, and a piercing gaze. It gives you the shivers just thinking about it. 
That was the past. You were only a freshman in college at that time, but now, you've returned as a junior. You had two years of life experience, dumb parties, and boy troubles. Surely, you would be able to face Uncle Konig with a straight face. That thought went out of your head the second you saw him. 
“Sweetheart? Are you spacing out again?” You blinked rapidly before focusing on Konig once more. You most definitely weren’t staring at his open button up. You were blessed with seeing Konig in a tailored suit the second you got home. He had his sleeves rolled up as he dined with you. 
While you were too busy overthinking, Konig had taken the time to properly look at you. Without Ghost around, he could finally stare. Your skirt was tiny showing off your distracting thighs as they strained against your mini-skirt. It was so obvious when you would rub your thighs together, you had to know you were putting on a show for him. What a tease. Your tank top was also doing very little to cover you. Konig would be lying if he said he wasn’t glancing at where your chest was. Maybe you didn’t notice, but your face was still beet red, like always. Ghost had warned Konig of your school girl crush on him, and Konig regrettably swore he would try nothing. Pity, you two were alone in the house together for two days. 
“I know it might be a little weird being alone with your uncle, but I promise it’ll be fun.” Konig’s expression was a cool smirk, almost like he knew he had an effect on you. In a way, he did know. 
“Y-yeah. It’s not that weird.” You didn’t bother making eye contact with him, instead playing with the food on your plate. You felt hot, and the piercing gaze on your body didn’t help one bit. It was like a wolf sizing up a lamb. 
“No need to be shy, Princess, I’ll take good care of you.” Konig smiled at your timidness. It was like the innocence was oozing out of you. He could see right through your “grown up” display. Although he had to admit, he much preferred your longer dresses and larger tops. College had made you a little whore, he’d have to fix that, won’t he?
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Part 2 - Work Introductions
Autumn Embers Masterlist
CW: Mentions of child loss, mentions of medical neglect/abuse, mentions of reproductive abuse, mentions of pregnancy complications and death, mentions of racism, sexism (in an omegaverse way), Brandon (unfortunately living), real world references
Data entry and analysis isn’t the most exciting job in the world, no matter what kind of fancy title you’re given, but it pays the bills. Working on a military base isn’t ideal, but the benefits are nothing to sneeze at. And most days, you get to sit alone and uninterrupted, in your own office, instead of in a cramped cubicle.
On Tuesday, you’re startled out of your audiobook by a gentle knock on your desk. Sherry, your immediate superior, gives an awkward little wave and waits for you to finish your line and mute your music.
“Hey, I’m so sorry about this,” she says, as soon as your headphones are clear. “You remember those port reports from Honduras? Some of the senior analysts have some questions for you? They’re currently in a meeting and requested some clarification…?”
You wait, but she doesn’t say anything else. “…what do they want to know?”
“Oh, they didn’t tell me, I’m sorry,” Sherry says. “They asked if you could… Well, they need you to attend the meeting. Right now.”
“Do I even have the clearance for that kind of meeting?” You stand without waiting for an answer and disconnect your laptop from the dock. With it tucked under your arm, you grab a notebook and pen, as well as your water bottle.
Sherry leads the way out of the office. “I know you submitted these reports two weeks ago, and your notations are excellent. I think the problem is with one of the flagged ship manifests, but they wouldn’t clarify why they were concerned. Couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”
Her apologetic air suddenly makes sense. “Brandon’s in there, isn’t he?”
Sherry grimaces. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s him and a few alphas. There’s an American CIA agent as well.”
“So I absolutely don’t have the clearance for this meeting,” you sigh. “Great.”
A short elevator ride and two halls away, you take a fortifying breath before you step into an occupied meeting room. Brandon’s is the first face you see, and when he sees you the corners of his lips turn up in an infuriating smile. Next to him, another senior analyst’s eyebrows pop up, but Andrew actually looks happy to see you.
Before the door can close behind you, a blonde, American alpha stands and offers her hand in a no-nonsense shake. “Kate Laswell. We appreciate you being so prompt.”
“Of course,” you answer. Unfortunately, your attention is a little torn. All four members of the 141 are sitting at the table, looking at you curiously. Sergent MacTavish grins like a wolf. Captain Price tips his chin up just enough that you know he’s scenting you. Lieutenant Riley, face covered from the nose down in a black neck gaiter, gives you a quick once over that makes you want to shiver. But you’re a professional, so instead of fleeing you take the nearest seat, across from a smiling Sergent Garrick. You fold both of your hands on top of the table, the very picture of accommodating and helpful, “What can I assist you with?”
“Why’d you flag this shipping manifest,” Brandon asks. The projector at the front of the room switches to a document that would be barely legible, even without the distortion of zoom.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him, flipping your laptop open. “What’s the file name?”
“Honduras,” Brandon says, Port Cortez.”
“Puerto Cortes,” you correct. And seeing as it’s the largest seaport in Central America, I’ve combed through literally hundreds of manifests, you think, but don’t say. “I’m going to have to ask you to be a bit more specific. The projector isn’t easy to read.”
“You flagged this manifest for a Korean ship.”
You jump when Sergent Garrick says, “Christ, mate, just give her the file name.”
Lieutenant Riley gives a cough that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. You think you see MacTavish still grinning at you out of the corner of your eye. Laswell rattles off the document name without looking.
As soon as the document loads, you know exactly why Brandon and Andrew are confused. And you know that the following conversation is going to be so unpleasant that you shoot off a quick email to take the rest of the day off once this meeting ends.
You take a deep breath, let it out slowly. “The manifest is inconsistent with previous patterns from that particular port and that particular captain and crew. As I noted, the four containers from Venusian Pharmaceuticals wouldn’t have made it on the ship do to political and economic pressures.”
Brandon doesn’t bother to look at you when he asks, “What pressures?”
Laswell interjects before you can answer, “Leaked internal communications provided evidence that Cloudstone Pharm was selling tampered heat suppressants and birth control in various black markets. The 4B movement in South Korea had been calling for an investigation for years by that point. A lot of omegas were killed because of mis-labeled medications. Pregnancy and birth related complications.”
“I remember that. It was, what, five, more years ago?” Lieutenant Riley asks. “Had an entire re-brand. Cloudstone to Venusian. Everything went from blues and whites to greens and yellows.”
“Okay, so the containers had a bit of extra security to get onto the ship,” Brandon says, before you can get over the shock of two alphas in a room who know anything about even the broad strokes of omega health care. “There’s protesters at every major port for one thing or another.”
“Even if they’d gotten on the ship, they wouldn’t have made it to Puerto Cortes,” you counter. “The captain lost two of his kids because of their medications. He’s had his crew dump the containers and alter manifests before. He was investigated for it, but his crew wouldn’t speak against him.”
Brandon frowns. “How do we know he didn’t get paid off?”
How do we know the omegas weren’t worth less than a cash payment? Your throat feels like closing in on itself. You keep your voice as steady as you can. “He wouldn’t have been.”
“How do you know?”
Andrew, eyes darting between you and Brandon, tries to interrupt. “Well-”
“Because he made the autopsy reports for both of his sons public,” you answer. You have to force your jaw to unclench. “Along with pictures and videos of how sick they were before they passed, before anyone knew what was really wrong with them. And the executives of Cloudstone, an American company, laughed. Called them slurs and ignorant animals in emails and meeting memos that were later leaked to the public.”
Across from you, Garrick is not smiling anymore. “That’s… disgusting.”
“Cloudstone struggled to recover in eastern Asian markets, even with the re-brand,” you continue, then take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And all of this was in my report.”
“Your job isn’t to provide those kinds of references. You’re not trained for it. There were a couple of links to articles,” Brandon dismisses. “Not enough to-”
“One of his sons experienced total organ failure,” you interrupt, closing your laptop. You know your scent must be all over the place, but the subject matter was already touchy. Now he’s questioning your work and misrepresenting your job duties? Oh, fuck him. “Because he was on incorrectly administered fertility treatments that were disguised as birth control, he had a high-risk pregnancy with multiples. And then his medications were switched with heat inducers. His other son had rapid onset neuropathy and multiple strokes within a week. Neither of his sons wanted to have children. One of them couldn’t, biologically, because it would have killed him anyways. And their partners decided that they didn’t care.”
Brandon wrinkles his nose at you. “No need to get so worked up.”
You practically feel the way your scent goes hot and acrid. Where most omegas have a distress scent that is sickly sweet, yours is much closer to an alpha’s shock scent. Your parents used to call you “Wildfire” because of it. You watch the hairs on Garrik’s arms stand up.
You can barely smell Andrew’s nervous distress over your rage. “Okay, yeah, that’s plenty. The captain wouldn’t have taken the containers.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t consult the references I added into the report?” You know the sudden calm in your voice, the relaxing of your posture, is at odds with the way your anger scent gets stronger. You’ve been told it’s a sensory nightmare, so you only do it when someone tells you you’re not calm enough. You fold your hands on the table again. “Because I included original and translated sources, according to the standards of the department.”
The room is silent. All seven alphas are agitated. You can only pick out MacTavish’s scent, muddled and frustrated. Andrew opens his mouth, closes it. Finally says, “I didn’t receive the references.”
“Senior analyst Lawrence received the full report directly,” you say, holding eye contact with Brandon. “But I know how emails can get lost. I would be happy to send them again. I’ll CC you, and request that your access to the full drive be confirmed. Sir. Is there anything else I can assist the team with?”
Laswell scrawls something on a sticky note and passes it over to you. “Please also include me on those emails.”
You give her your most demure smile. “Unfortunately, Agent Laswell, I don’t have the clearance to send reports outside of the department. I would be happy to help you coordinate that with senior analysts Lawrence and Bennett.”
You pluck the sticky note from her hand, stand, and gather up your laptop, notebook, and water bottle. When you have everything, you pass behind her to where Brandon and Andrew are sitting. Deliberately putting yourself at Brandon’s back, you hand the note to Andrew with a placid smile. “Agent Laswell requests that you provide her with the full report.”
Brandon smells disconcerted, trapped in his seat with your scent roaring as you stand just inside of his blind spot. Andrew, for his part, only hesitates for a moment before taking the offered sticky note, looking from you to Laswell to Brandon and back. “Thank you.”
“Of course, sir.” Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”
“I… believe that will be all…?”
“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.” You cement your little performance with a perfectly deferential partial curtsy to Andrew, then to the rest of the room. “Please do not hesitate to let me know if there’s anything else I can do the support the team.”
As the door shuts behind you, you hear Captain Price’s voice for the first time. “Goddamn. That is a woman capable of murder.”
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theemporium · 9 months
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Sorry didn't know it was for fluff whoops wasn't paying attention! Okay try this again properly!
Werewolf Charles or Max and it's the full moon and he just wants to cuddle you because you keep him calm or maybe even both
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
The days approaching a full moon were always a little different from the rest of the month.
Sometimes it made your boys angstier than usual. Their tempers would be shorter, their patience was practically nonexistent and they snapped at anything or anyone that irked them even a little bit. Max was usually the worst one of the two, but they were both bad.
Sometimes they were just all over you. The days approaching the full moon would be relentless. You would always have one of them pressed up against you, kissing you, touching you. And when they had you squished between them, it honestly felt like time stopped.
But sometimes, your boys were just needy. Sometimes the days approaching the full moon were rough and stressful. Their anxiety would be through the roof, even if it was something they had done for years. Sometimes, they just needed to be close to you.
“I love you both endlessly but, dear god, I forgot how fucking warm you both are.” 
You were two days out and you could feel the nerves radiating over the both of them. It didn’t help that all they could feel was the anxiety bouncing off each other. And you could tell from the second you stepped through the door after work that they needed you. 
Which led to you being snuggled between two very hot, very clingy werewolves who had no plans of letting you move at all.
“It’s fine, you like it,” Max murmured, his head buried against your stomach as his nose brushed against the slip of skin where your vest rode up. 
“Why couldn’t one of you be hot and the other cold,” you mumbled, a small groan of appreciation leaving Charles’ lips as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Saves me sweating my tits off here.”
“We told you to take your clothes off,” Charles murmured against your skin, his lips brushing against your neck as he placed a soft kiss at the base, like his own little apology for not pulling away.
“Just because you both run around the house naked, doesn’t mean I’m gonna join in,” you said with a soft snort, your eyes vaguely focused on the random movie playing on the tv. 
“I don’t see the issue in it,” Max retorted. “It’s very freeing.”
“Not all of us have a nice lovely fur coat to keep us warm,” you countered, glancing down at the boy who only flashed you a smile. 
“That’s where we come in, schat,” Max said like it was obvious. “We would keep you warm.”
“Too fucking warm,” you murmured, but both boys just tightened their arms around you. “You’re lucky you are both cute.”
Charles lifted his head from your neck, wide eyes staring at you with curiosity. “Do you mean as our human selves or our wolf selves?”
Your lips twitched upwards before you leaned in to peck his lips. “Both, baby, both.”
“Hey,” Max whined, lightly nipping your tummy with his teeth. “If he gets one, I get one.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing a little as you leaned down to press a soft, chaste kiss on his lips too. “My needy boys.”
“You love us,” Max whispered against your lips.
You pulled back grinning. “Yeah, I do.”
.
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ladykailitha · 2 months
Text
The Harrington Pattern Part 10
The first of two chapters today. Next week will finish up this story, so yay!!
Steve has a rough day, Jeff comes to the rescue and deserves hazard pay for dealing with the two idiots (Steve and Eddie). And Nancy and Jonathan cameo.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9
TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
Steve put on his chain shirt and tunic admiring himself in the mirror. Yesterday it was sort of haphazardly thrown on. Today he took careful consideration to make sure everything was in place.
He grabbed his wallet and keys and then picked up the little dice bag. It just hoped it wouldn’t be too big or two small. He stuck the first two items in his right pocket and the bag in his left.
Now all he had to do is get up the courage to give it to him. He picked up Lucas and Max first.
When Lucas came out the house wearing the pirate outfit which had been his backup, Steve had been surprised. Then Lucas explained that he had wanted to match Max.
While Steve could appreciate the sentiment, Saturday was the biggest day. The one where everyone would see it. So to say he was a bit crestfallen when Lucas came out of his house would have been an understatement. If they had wanted to do that, why not yesterday?
But he bit his tongue and let them do what they wanted.
Lucas and Max wolf whistled when Robin came out all decked out in her beautiful blue dress and matching corset. She was still wearing her pirate boots, but mostly because she didn’t want dirt on the hem of her new dress.
She did a cute little spin and then bowed at their applause.
It was only when they were in the car that Steve realized that now they looked like a couple. And on the day he was supposed to be confessing to Eddie.
He knew Eddie was aware of Robin proclivities toward her own sex and that Robin was only wearing to look pretty at the jousting tournament, but that feeling gnawed in his chest that everyone else would think Robin and he was a couple.
Well not the Party.
And it did it really matter what strangers thought?
More than Steve would ever admit out loud.
****
They arrived to see only Gareth and Brian waiting for them.
“They wanted us to rely their apologies,” Brian said grandly. “But they fucked up the schedules again.”
“What schedules?” Dustin finally snapped. “No one has told us anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.
Gareth tapped the side of his nose. “That’s because it’s a surprise. But let’s just say that the people running the Ren Fair are trying to have two events at the same time and in the same place.”
“That’s lame,” Mike hissed. “I hate stupid adults.”
Gareth wrapped his arm around him. “No truer words have ever been uttered.”
Steve then got to watch as all the kids paired off and the older teens wander off in directions Steve wasn’t interested in going. Even Robin had abandoned him to take Max and El to see the ax throwers.
He didn’t have anything he had wanted to do until just before lunch so he went to Damsel in This Dress. He couldn’t wait to show off his little pouch for her to see if it was something that would sell.
But when he got there, the place was slammed. Steve could even see a large, burly man with a long thick black beard with a single white stripe on the left side of his chin was scampering around trying to take people’s money while Katie answered questions.
Steve took out the pouch he had made for Eddie and then looked up at the tangle of people in front of him. He would have to come back later. But he knew when she would be the least busy, and Steve wanted to go to the joust, too.
He let out a shuddering breath and turned around. He figured he could kill sometime wandering around the marketplace and browse.
He still had some money leftover and it was the last day. Maybe he should buy something for himself. He spent so much time and effort and money on everyone else he had forgotten to get something for himself.
But now, everything had been picked through. He still had his little dagger he thought sadly. Maybe he would come back after the joust when the crowds had thinned a bit.
The last lunch was a horrid affair with everyone fighting over the food, trying to get someone to try the haggis. Finally Steve just picked it up and threw it away.
Five bucks down the drain because these kids were assholes.
He still hadn’t seen Eddie.
Steve let out a pained sigh and went to go grab the pouch to rub it between his fingers for comfort when he realized it was gone.
“Shit!” he swore.
“What is it?” Will asked, the first zero in on Steve’s obvious distress.
“I had a small black pouch I–” he stopped. He didn’t want to tell them he had made it for Eddie. “I bought earlier,” he finished lamely. “And it’s not in my pocket.”
All the kids stood up and started looking around.
“Where did you last have it?” Robin asked, rubbing Steve’s arm soothingly.
“The dresses place,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember the name just then.
“I didn’t see that they were selling that sort of thing there,” Lucas said. “Why did you have it out?”
“I was going to show the owner, Katie,” Steve groused. “She liked my tunic yesterday and wanted me to give her stuff for her to sell for me and I was going to show the pouch to see if that was something she might want from me.”
He picked at the sleeve of his white undershirt. The cuff had the Harrington Pattern and his lip began to wobble at the sight of it. He wanted to take his seam ripper to it and just tear it all it out. He was too stupid to hold onto such a simple thing as pouch, he didn’t deserve to sell his pieces.
“We don’t have time to go look for it now,” Max said gently. “We’ll all head over there after the joust.”
Steve nodded and allowed Robin to lead him to the arena where the jousting would be held.
He was trudging up the stairs to bench seating when he heard a voice call out behind him.
“Steve!”
He turned around and saw Jeff waving something in the air. Hope lit a small fire in his chest. It couldn’t be.
He went thundering down the steps.
“Katie said you left this at her shop,” Jeff said a little breathless.
Steve gently took the pouch from him. “Thank you so much. I thought I had dropped it somewhere.”
Jeff grinned. “It’s for Eddie, isn’t it?”
He ducked his head and nodded.
“How do I thank you?” he breathed, his eyes welling up with tears.
“Just be sure to root for the black knight,” Jeff said with a wink.
“I will I promise.”
He turned around and searched the stands to see where they had all gone and to his surprise Jonathan and Nancy were waving at him sandwiched between a grinning Will and a pleased Mike.
Steve’s day was starting to look up. He sat down in the empty spot next to Robin at the end of the bench.
He showed her the pouch.
“Yay!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so glad you found it.”
Steve leaned forward and told them. “Jeff said to root for the black knight.”
Dustin leaned over too. “Aren’t black knights the bad guys?”
“Nope!” Steve said with a grin. “The black just means that he isn’t loyal to a specific lord. He’s a traveling mercenary looking for work in the only profession he knows. War.”
Everyone nodded.
Steve started explaining the history of the sport and what the different points were and how to win. Even what they won.
They were all hanging off his every word.
Steve felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up. Callahan waved at him shyly.
“This is Sheila, my girlfriend,” he said. “She had a question about the joust.”
Next to the police officer was a pretty brunette in her early thirties. She wore bright red lipstick and was blushing.
She swatted at Callahan’s arm. “He doesn’t want to hear my dumb question.”
Steve grinned up her. “I’m happy to talk anyone’s ear off. Wha’cha got?”
She asked about if the lances were sharp and Steve explained that they weren’t. They even had wide tips to make the shock of the hit go over a wider area so the lancers didn’t get hurt.
****
In the cover of the stable where Eddie was helping Jeff, Jeff turned to him.
“That boy has got it bad for you,” he said pushing Eddie’s shoulder playfully.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” He straightened up and popped his back. “You remember Louis?”
Jeff winced. He did in fact remember Louis. “Me and Bri still maintain he had a crush on you, he just wasn’t out yet and freaked on you.”
“Well,” Eddie huffed. “Steve ain’t out either, so I’m not touching that...” he made motions with his hands, “all that mess with a ten and a half foot pole, man.”
Jeff rolled eyes. “Look, I’m not saying I know for sure, but according to Gareth, who is the densest motherfucker on God’s green earth, said Steve was really sad when we weren’t there this morning.”
Eddie picked a pimple on his jaw nervously and Jeff swatted his hand away.
“I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Steve,” Eddie murmured. “If it goes badly I’m going to lose some of the kids in the divorce. Dustin and Red are the two biggest ones. They like me, but they love Steve.”
Jeff had to concede that one. “So make sure it doesn’t go south. Woo the bastard. You know how. And don’t give that bullshit about it being ‘only’ pretend at DND because I’ve seen you turn on the charm to get cheaper product from Reefer Rick or to let Gareth who isn’t even close to being twenty-one to perform at a bar.”
Eddie blushed. “Yeah, all right. You win.”
Jeff threw his arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Yes!”
Eddie pushed him off him. “Go on, your squire awaits!”
Jeff laughed but wandered off to finish getting ready.
Eddie shook his head fondly. But Jeff had a point. He couldn't wallow forever.
He had a Harrington to woo.
****
Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
And lo! There is the wild Callahan everyone expected to spot when he came to Steve's door all the way back in chapter 3.
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED
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