#I'M BUYING IT IF I EVER SEE IT I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL WHEN IT COMES TO SPACE STUFF

[undead-supernova]

Boring! / Masterlist

(part two here)

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: despite being intimidated by your confidence, Eddie decides to try and talk to you (and it pays off)

warnings: drinking, men acting weird, reader being sure of herself and extroverted, Eddie being a little subby 'cause he's a cutie pie, making out, no smut

wc: 2.4k

inspo: this last week I have become obsessed with Lil Mariko's music, specifically Don't Touch, Boring, I'm Baby, Hi, I'm a Slut, etc. I was inspired by her attitude and her sound to create a reader that I don't ever see but want! I include some of her lyrics in here as dialogue so go check her out and support her thanks!

(can you tell I'm a slut for girlypop trap metal/screamo? also wow I love this so much)

Eddie was a sucker for going to parties alone.

It wasn’t like he tried to, but considering all his other friends ended up at other colleges, Eddie felt compelled to at least try to meet people. But it was for naught, just a bout of self-sabotage and eye rolls at himself. He would end up sitting by himself on a beer-stained couch, drink in one hand and a joint in another. Bitterly filling the house with smoke. And, Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even spoken to anyone.

But then…well…

“Wow, what a sad bitch. Too bad money can’t buy you a personality. I’d buy one for you, but I won’t. You’re just so fucking lame.”

You threw a drink in some guy’s face, laughing hysterically as you watched him practically growl in anger. With a hand on your hip, sharp nails grazing a short silk dress, you looked like a wild lioness in an arena. Like you were ready to take a bite out of this dude and revel in his blood. Chew on his pound of flesh.

“Slut!” he shouted.

“Awh, thank you!” you exclaimed, your grin almost maniacal. Glossed lips somehow glimmering in the dim lighting. “Too bad you have to fucking grope women in order to get one to notice you.” Another laugh left your lips. “I should get a goddamn restraining order on you, shitdick.”

It was in that moment that Eddie fell in love with you.

Well, okay, he didn’t actually fall in love with you. But, god, he knew he could.

You were just so sure of yourself, always in control of the situation at hand. A dominating presence that commanded whatever room you were in. It was this magnetism that drew him to you, never leaving his sight whenever you showed up.

No matter how many times he had a knee jerk reaction to get involved when men wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves, you were always one step ahead. He’d watched you slap someone, kick them in the shins, in the balls, and even landed a nice right hook. All in your short dresses and six-inch heels. All sparkly and put together. 

It made him weak, utterly susceptible to whatever it is that made you so alluring. This feminine rage, this disdain at the idea that women couldn’t be impolite. You let it be known that that was far from your mind. It wasn’t even defiance—it was just you.

And no matter the genre, you were moving and laughing with your friends. Practically gassing each other up as you grinded on one another. Eddie would take another six puffs of his joint, trying to let the smoke billow enough that he wouldn’t keep checking you out. But it was to no avail.

It was this itch in his brain, something only you could scratch. And he didn’t even know your name. No knowledge of your major or your preferences or whether you’d think he was as pretty as he found you to be. He thought it would always be this way.

Until Eddie thought that enough was enough. It was another Saturday party that you’d shown up to. He was back on that couch, back in that uncomfortable, stuffy attitude. You were standing around with your friends, finishing off a red solo cup and reapplying lip gloss over your lipstick. Carefully, methodically. 

It was a crime and he knew he needed to commit one himself before he’d regret it.

“Fuck it,” Eddie muttered, pushing himself off of the couch and heading towards you. Smoothed out his hair, checked to make sure he still smelled good. Made sure his rings were straightened.

It felt like some kind of fate, the way your friends moved over to refill their cups as he approached. How prophetic, being able to get your attention with just a turn of your head. Put your hands on your hips.

“Uh, hi,” he started, immediately resisting the urge to wince at his awkwardness. Where the hell was his game? Did it run away because it was you?

You tilted your head, looking him up and down before smiling. Smiling. “Hi, there.”

“I’m Eddie.”

You giggled, looking slightly confused as you gave him yours. But in the smile that came after, he could tell you were amused. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you said after your introduction. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Well,” he started, trying to formulate a sentence. “I’ve seen you around and I thought you seemed cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” you egged on, raising an eyebrow.

He silently nodded.

“I like your tattoos,” you complimented, still grazing his body with your eyes, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie felt so exposed, so vulnerable to your gaze, nearly desperate for you to look him in the eye again. It would be easier than whatever you were starting to do to him.

But instead, you touched his left forearm arm and he froze. Literally froze. 

“What’s this one all about?” you asked, tapping it with your pointer finger. Goosebumps flooded his arm as you traced it with the digit, your nail scratching at his skin. It was the most recent addition, a fiery red dragon with spurts of fire flicking off the sides and a black D20 wrapped inside its tail. 

“Uh,” he started, blinking a few times as he tried to regain his composure. “I got it a few weeks ago. It’s, uh, a D&D thing?” 

He didn’t mean for it to come out like a question but, to be honest, if you kept touching him like that, he was really going to embarrass himself. Well, not him. His dick. How pathetic.

Your eyebrows lifted again. “D&D?”

“Yeah, Dungeons & Dragons.”

“You know, I’ve heard of that,” you said with a small smile, removing your fingers before crossing your arms over your chest. Leaned back, sized him up. “But you should tell me more about it.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, really,” you replied with a chuckle. “Tell me about this thing it’s holding. What is that?”

“Well, it’s called a D-Twenty. It’s a dice that has twenty sides and, like, when you roll it, you get any number between one and twenty. It’s one of those things where the dice have rules and if you get below a fourteen, you’re destined to fail but if you go above a fourteen, you’re more likely to succeed. But then if you get a one then it’s called, uh, a critical failure. Automatic fail, you know? But if you get a twenty—”

“Hold on,” you said, holding up your hand as you glanced behind him. “Give me a minute.”

Eddie watched you walk past him, frozen in place. He’d really lost his chance, hadn’t he? He should’ve known better than to let himself actually talk about D&D. It was stupid! Absolutely pointless! A girl like you would never want to listen to someone blabber about a fucking fantasy game.

He should’ve known better.

The sound of your heels felt deafening as you stalked up to a guy and snapped your fingers in his face. "You've been staring at me for, like, a fucking hour. Can I help you?” The guy just stared. “Like, what's your problem? If you get near me, if you try to touch me? I swear to god, shitdick, I will take my Louboutins and castrate you."      

Blubbering like a goddamn fish, the dude scratched at his head, clearly trying to come up with some kind of retort. “Hey, don’t fucking say shit to me when you’re putting it all out there for free. You expect guys to not wanna fuck you when your ass is out?”

Eddie’s fists clenched, ready to throw a punch before you had him beat.

“Yawn,” you moaned, dramatically stretching your arms out like you were getting ready for bed. “Can you shut the fuck up? I’m falling asleep listening to you. You’re so fucking boring.” 

He stopped talking. The douche bag actually stopped, opting to stare at you with wide eyes as you absolutely annihilated him.

“You’re just talking to yourself at this point. Like, seriously, you’re fucking boring. Don’t talk to me."

That was when Eddie turned away, reasoning with himself that he lost your interest. He was just gonna be next, another weirdo that didn’t deserve your time. And, to be fair, he’d get it. Hell, he’d leave you the fuck alone forever if you said so. But he still had a grip on his pride, tucking his tail and ready to flee.

Eddie nearly gasped as he felt a pull on one of his belt loops, unable to process in time when you tugged him back towards you, face dangerously close to his. Your eyes tracing the lines of his lips as he struggled to breathe.

"Excuse me?” you nearly whispered. “Where do you think you're going? I didn't say you were boring, did I?"

“Ah,” he breathed, his heart racing as your grip tightened on his jeans. “N-no, I guess not.”

That earned a smile from you. “Exactly,” you said, louder this time. “Keep talking, pretty boy.”

As Eddie kept explaining the dice, you took his hand, holding it over your shoulder as you guided him back over to that couch he had been sulking on. Not once did he stop rambling, feeling compelled as you gave him little “mhm”s and “oh, yeah?”s that sounded like goddamn moans. 

Nearly pushed him down to the cushion, crossing your legs as you actively listened. Actively listened. 

Only interrupting when you lightly touched his long locks and asked, “Is this okay?” 

And he nodded, stunned at you asking for his permission. Then you were telling him to keep going. With your pretty fingers wrapping around one of his curls, eyes nearly starry as he went along.

God, where did you come from? And how could he ever be the same?

“You’re so cool,” you said when he’d finally decided to shut up. “Really smart.”

“Nah,” he scoffed, trying to keep the heat from rushing to his cheeks. “I just have, like, specific interests.”

“That you know everything about,” you pointed out, pressing your pointer finger to his cheek. “I don’t think I could memorize all of that.”

“Well, what do you like?” he asked, now feeling more sure of himself. 

You chuckled. “Is this when you ask me what my major is?”

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, all too aware of the stereotypical conversation starter. And to quote you earlier: Yawn.

“How many guys have tried that?” he wondered. “And how many did you kick in the face?”

That earned a grin from you, something all proud and appreciative. Like he cracked some goddamn code. 

“Too many to count,” you responded, shaking your head. “But because I think you’re sweet, I’ll tell you the truth. I’m undecided. I think I could look into art history or literary analysis. I just want to make the right choice before I commit to it.”

Eddie nodded, feeling electricity begin to sparkle in his chest as you went into detail about your favorite female artists and poets, how you’d spent the last few months becoming obsessed with analysis. How you pictured it as a web of tangled strings that you meticulously unraveled. 

And the more you talked, the more he yearned for you to keep going. Keep filling his head with your thoughts and ideas. 

Then you said the one thing that brought him to nirvana.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” he answered immediately.

And then your lips were on his.

And it was a magical experience to have your lipstick flood his mouth, growing feverish as the flavor faded and he could now only taste you. 

Now, Eddie didn’t consider himself to be submissive, per se. But he certainly had no problem letting you lead the way, wrapping his curls in your fingers, your nails, and tugging him wherever you wanted. Gnashing teeth, the little moan that escaped your mouth as your tongue curled around his. 

And if his boner hadn’t been visible before, he knew damn well it was now, especially when your other hand met the back of his neck, your nails painstakingly slow as they scraped down to his shoulders. A whine left his lips, all shaky and high-pitched. A fucking whine in the middle of some party at some loser’s house.

But it only drove you further, biting his lips and whispering, “That’s a good boy, hm?”

He gasped. And as if you knew the embarrassment was starting to pool in his stomach, you threw your leg over his waist and returned the noise. Moved your lips to his jaw and raked your teeth over his neck.

And when Eddie had enough strength to open his eyes, he nearly groaned again at your exposed thigh, dress rising up over the curl of your ass. But Eddie felt nervous to touch you, felt nervous to let himself indulge. Not when you hadn’t given permission. 

You weren’t delicate, he knew this. A woman with the power and grace of royalty, waltzing around parties with all that intelligence; all that bark that also bites. 

He wanted you to be his.

Putting his hand on your shoulder, you backed away. Stared up at him through your eyelashes, lipstick smothered around your mouth.

“I, um, I know, like, you may want to go somewhere, but,” Eddie began to stutter, trying to get the blood away from his cock. Focus, focus. “I’d rather take you out on a date first.”

And that’s when he saw you grin. It wasn’t all dominant and flirty. No, it was something genuine, all bashful with your shoulders turning inward. Was he…did his words leave you shy?

“You want to take me out on a date?” you asked.

“Of course I do. I’ve wanted to for a while now.”

“Um, I’d really like that,” you said with a nod. “Keep telling me about that game, though,” you demanded lightly, taking your thumb and attempting to wipe your lipstick from his mouth. He started to try and return the gesture, causing you to giggle. “‘Cause I have some very important questions.”

The rest of the night and early morning was spent spilling knowledge into one another, always listening. Always finding each other’s lips again, quiet whispers of Is this okay? and You taste really nice and Would you keep talking?

When the night ended and he drove you back to your dorm, you made a promise of dinner and a trip around a museum. Made him promise you three times before he gave you a wink and a chuckle.

And it sounded damn near crazy, but maybe Eddie really was in love.

thank you for the lovely divider @strangergraphics :')

[thatbitchery]

& ladies remember outside your leveling up circles if anyone asks you eat at the drive thru, it's burger & fries, you prefer sweatpants and spend your time watching Turkish Thai dramas and your sexual orientation is pretty kpop boys. Your goal in life is to get married and stay at home and your hobbies are flip flops and watching gmmtv, you're the most basic average Jane there is out there you just dress up because mom makes you. What have we said about keeping your competition feeling safe? In competitive environments so school and office and your local communities and especially your family you're couch potato potato so you're not available because new series just dropped- do you want to cause unnecessary friction? Keep your level up to yourself and your level up groups people are herds herds herds with that crabby crabba crab mentality so any sign you could leave the herd behind is a trigger to Crabb crabbb crabby pull you back into the bucket. Human beings are animals before they are people when will you understand this? Why would you scream in the face of a tiger? Do you want to get bullied? What happened to moving in silence.

Keep your workouts out of social media and your trips to the dermatologist to yourself, your paycheck is between you and your bank and stay away from the brands unless everyone in your group is wearing them so brands are just the average. Why would you sabotage yourself like that? Why would you go telling anyone your goals? Do you want to get laughed at? Haven't you learned your lesson? Hasn't your mother, your own mom, judged you for wanting to be better? Even though you're not in competition? Then why would you tell Betty from HR when it's literally the most competitive environment out there? Do you want to ostracize yourself? Then don't create drifts with your herd and level up in the shadows, when your current friends see you eating healthier its omg lol why? Then the answer is actually I took a blood test, autoimmune diseases are around the corner you don't know how badly I need McDonald's rn but life first. You're dressing elegant lately- girl stop my mom is insufferable she's making me these conservatives please. You look nicer- I'm on birth control, I had that acne issue. I feel the weight creeping up lol. You're taking more classes? Gosh yes there's this scholarship thing I need so you know. Your posture is better lately- baby girl stop my back was on fire last week leave me alone I was dying like- it's never because you're bettering yourself. Never. Ever. As long as they're concerned couch potato potati potata average Janey.

Human societies are competitive in nature especially among women because resources are so scarce and we know this and herd mentality makes us detest people that place themselves in positions to have better access to these so once you start getting better its underhanded compliments and what's app groups and side glances as you walk, learn to keep people comfortable and do you in the background, don't buy into whatever self soothing we are all good people bs you're being sold, we are only as supportive as you're below us once you start doing better your own sister and best friend have a lot to say. Move in silence & keep your life away from public view and have believable excuses for what you can't always hide & find a way to say you're better than me. Why cause unnecessary friction?

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Eight - Reveal

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Your body is starting to change, and your moods are changing even quicker! You and Jessie experience a first and you learn the sex of your baby.

Warnings: Some language. Some nudity (?), intimate touching.

A/N: I've had a few requests to have poor Jessie coping with Reader's mood swings. Enjoy! lol. Rest of the series is here.

"Finally," you said as Jessie came through the door with a package under her arm.

"What is it anyway?" She asked as she handed the box over to you and you placed it on the table to open it. She watched as you pulled out an item and held it up against yourself, turning to her.

"What do you think?" You asked with a knowing smile that shifted into a smirk. Jessie's eyes drifted to the bra you were showcasing and a goofy grin crossed her face.

"Well I think you'll need to actually try it on for me," she said flirtatiously as she came up to you, placing her hands on your growing stomach as she leaned in for a kiss.

She smiled brightly just at the touch. You were very close to 20 weeks along and your belly had swelled notably over the past few weeks. Unless if you were wearing a large sweater or jacket, it was no longer a secret that you were expecting and Jessie adored it.

Anytime you were out together she was on top of the world as she stood next to you, arm around your waist and proud as can be. She couldn't help but beam when someone referred to either of you as moms-to-be.

"I figured you'd say something like that," you responded as you pulled back and gave her a fleeting peck on the cheek as you retreated to the bedroom. Jessie trailed after you eagerly.

"I bought two new bras for now," you explained. "I'll see how comfortable they are and if I like them I'll buy more."

"Okay," she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and practically swung her feet as you drew your top over your head. You tossed it at her playfully as she caught it with a waggle of her eyebrows.

She grinned as you stood before her and unclasped your bra, your breasts falling freely as you removed it. She bit back a chuckle at the sigh of relief you released.

"God," you breathed in complaint, cupping one of your breasts with your hand. "I should've got these two weeks ago. Can't believe how much my boobs have grown."

"I know," Jessie said in an entirely different tone, her gaze transfixed on your breasts.

She held back a bashful smirk as you shot her a look while you started to put on one of the new bras. When clasped, you studied yourself momentarily. You huffed.

"God. I'm going to need a new size in another few weeks at this rate," you complained further. Jessie stood up and approached, hands out as she gently grasped your breasts, feeling them mindfully while in appreciation.

Jessie was solely focused on your breasts until you snapped your fingers in front of her face with a laugh.

"Focus," you joked. "What do you think?"

"Glorious," Jessie said simply. You rolled your eyes affectionately as you tried on the other bra.

"Is there one you like better?" You asked. She had yet to draw her eyes away from your cleavage.

"I like them both," she said with a wide smile.

"You don't say," you teased with another eye roll. "By the way, these past few weeks have been the absolute most excited you've ever been to help me shop for clothes." Jessie felt her face heat up with a light blush, but she shrugged it off.

"What can I say? You look absolutely gorgeous." And she meant it.

"Ugh," you dismissed as you turned and studied yourself in the mirror with a borderline rueful smirk. "I thought the weight I put on in first year uni was tough." You sighed as you honed in on the faintest marks on your breasts and on your abdomen. "And I'm getting stretch marks," you whined.

"Babe," Jessie said as she stepped in front of you and placed her hands lovingly on your stomach. "That is totally normal. You're beautiful." She saw that you weren't entirely convinced and she went on. "You're beautiful," she repeated, "but I know it bothers you. So, let me put cream on for you."

"I can do it myself," you pouted as you turned away and grabbed the lotion off of the dresser. You pumped some into your hands and walked away from her as you applied it.

"Babe, don't be stubborn. Let me help," she insisted as she followed after you with a frown.

"I'm fine," you told her, keeping your back to her.

Jessie held back a sigh. She knew to expect mood swings, but you'd always been quite chill and outside of the few that happened in your first trimester, predominantly when you were dealing with morning sickness, you'd been pretty much yourself through the pregnancy. However, it couldn't always be that way.

"Baby. I would like to help you," she said patiently. You made a minor noise of acknowledgement, but grabbed your shirt off the bed and retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you without so much as a look her way.

She stood there alone in the bedroom and finally let out her sigh of frustration as she stared at the closed door unsure of what to do. After several moments of indecision she eventually chose to give you your space and sulked out to the kitchen. She stood there looking around and contemplating her options before opening the fridge and started to prepare a snack for you. Maybe some food would be a sufficient peace offering. Not that she was sure what she was trying to make up for.

She was still prepping the small charcuterie board of sorts when she heard you emerge from the bedroom. She looked over to you as you walked out. You were fully dressed again, but Jessie was met with the cold shoulder again. A quiet huff escaped her as she refocused on cutting up some veggies.

A few moments passed and she heard you settling in on the couch. She discretely peered over her shoulder to see you curled up on your phone. From your body language though, she could tell you were still upset.

She looked over the board before she gave a self-affirming nod and picked it up, carrying it over to you. She set it down on the table in front of you and stood there wordlessly for a few seconds watching you purposefully ignore it and her.

"I'm not hungry," you eventually said, tone flat and your eyes didn't rise from your phone.

"Well. I'll leave it there for you for when you are," Jessie said, trying to stamp out the bubbling disappointment and frustration. She watched you intently, noting the way you exhaled through your nose and settled further in, your shoulders rising up as you pulled your limbs in tighter and still avoiding eye contact.

She exhaled in the same way and turned on her heel and retreated to the bedroom, grabbing her laptop on the way. She sat cross-legged on the bed and perused her emails, read the news; anything really to busy herself.

Her eyes lifted from the screen as she heard the faint sound of you biting into a carrot or celery. She smiled faintly and picked up her phone to type out a message to you.

"I need you to know that you are truly more and more beautiful to me every day. Every part of you, too. I know it's hard for you and you may feel insecure about some things, but you are the most gorgeous woman to me. Every change in your curves, every stretch mark is beautiful to me and knowing that it's because our baby is growing each day and you're carrying them so incredibly makes it mean that much more to me."

She sent it and looked expectantly at the open doorway. The sounds of you eating stilled and she checked her phone. She saw you'd read the message and she awaited your response. The moments passed; more moments passed - nothing.

"Getting left on read by my own fiancée," Jessie muttered under her breath with a sigh as she propped her chin into her palm while she mindlessly scrolled on her laptop.

Several minutes later, her phone lit up and buzzed. She readily picked it up.

"Yet you don't want to be with me."

Jessie narrowed her eyes at the message in confusion. She shook her head and sat up straight.

"What? What are you talking about?" She said loud enough for you to hear.

Silence. She sighed, harsher this time, her patience wearing thin. She was about to speak up again when she saw the bubbles appear in your chat. She breathed quietly, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Well what are you even doing? You obviously don't want to spend time with me. And you're on a plane first thing tomorrow morning. So."

A frustrated huff escaped Jessie as she pushed herself up off the bed and strode towards the door. She slowed and took a steadying breath to get a hold of herself as she reached the doorway.

She rounded it and was about to speak when she laid eyes on you to see you sitting there, your eyes uncharacteristically teary. The irritation she'd been feeling a moment before was fully replaced by confusion and concern.

"Babe, what's going on?" She asked as she approached. "Of course I want to spend time with you. I didn't think you wanted to spend time with me. You walked away and closed the door on me. I thought you wanted space." You sniffled as she took up a spot next to you on the couch, facing you and resting a hand on your leg. You recoiled subtly and Jessie couldn't help but frown and huff. "See?" She said in accusation.

You shot her a look, eyes red and watery. "Why wouldn't I want to spend time with you? You're the most important person in my life."

"I-" Jessie stuttered and stalled, unsure how to proceed appropriately. She was always very careful with her words and unpredictable situations like this weren't ones she thrived in. While she contemplated how to respond, you wiped at a stray tear.

"No wonder you want to leave," you said, eyes still set forward and away from Jessie.

Her face screwed up. "What? No. I don't."

"Sure."

Jessie narrowed her eyes at you, entirely perplexed. She sighed audibly.

"I never enjoy leaving you to begin with. But I can't stand it now. I hate leaving for days at a time and missing moments with you and our little one. I love you more than anything. But knowing I have to go...," she trailed off, her gaze drifting down as she found her words. She looked back up at you, encouraged by how you watched her from the corner of your eye.

"Travel used to just be me going through the motions, here one day, there another, it was what it was. Now, since I met you, I miss you so much every time and I'm always so thrilled at the prospect of coming home to you. Nothing feels as good as being in your arms again after I've been away." She watched you helplessly and spoke imploringly. "Please believe me."

"God. I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me," you sniffled as you finally fully looked at her, eyes so sad and her heart swelling immediately at the sight.

She smirked and kissed your cheek, feeling it was safe to do so again. She smiled fully when you didn't pull away and instead leaned into her. She kissed the top of your head as she wrapped her arms around you and chuckled softly.

"Nothing's wrong with you - you're pregnant."

Your body jostled lightly against her as you snickered. You brought a hand up to your stomach and rubbed idly. "I really am, I guess."

Jessie kissed the top of your head again with a smile. "You still mad at me?"

"No. I'm sorry," you said as you cuddled in further. "Thanks for putting up with me. And for the snacks."

She gave you a squeeze. "Don't apologize. This is my end of the deal. it's the very least I can do."

"I appreciate it one way or another," you said as you rest against her.

You sat quietly together for a few moments before you jolted up. "Oh shit."

Cold panic went through Jessie seeing how your hands were on your stomach and you stared down wide-eyed at your bump. She did her best to remain stoic and she reached a hand out to gently rest on yours.

"What's wrong?"

"I-" You started, but stalled. You were quiet for a second before grasping Jessie's hand and pressing it against the underside of your stomach. She held her hand there motionless, eyes shifting from your bump to your face and back again as she waited silently and on the edge of her seat. Your eyes were set on the floor as if you were deep in thought.

Eventually, you let out a small sigh. "I swear I felt a fluttering of some kind. Or a couple of tiny, gentle taps." You sighed once more. "I-"

Suddenly, Jessie felt the faintest sensations under her fingers. They were over nearly as soon as they started, but they were there.

She looked up at you, eyes wide in shock, your expression now one of excitement as you looked back at her.

"Oh my God," Jessie said in wonder as she adjusted her hand slightly, hoping to feel it again, leaning in and looking as though that would make a difference.

You laughed lightly, and that was all she could feel. She frowned at you. "Stay still. I want to feel it again."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said teasingly in exaggeration though you did pause your movements once more.

Jessie remained entirely focused on your stomach, every now and then very purposefully and slowly moving a hand around to try to perhaps feel the sensation somewhere else. She eventually tried talking.

"Hi little one. It's me - your mom," she said softly as she thumbed the swell of your stomach gently. "Do you want to move again for me?" Nothing. A tiny frown formed on her face, but she continued. "I'm really excited to see you at our ultrasound appointment next week. I have your picture up in my locker, you know. I can't wait to get a new one. I love you so much already. My whole locker is going to be pictures of you." She looked at you out of the corner of her eye with a smirk, "and Momma."

Jessie felt around for another minute or two, but to no avail. She huffed and sat back up.

Though she could feel the disappointment weighing on her, her eyebrows bunched together, she relaxed when she finally looked up to see you smiling at her.

"I think they were just telling us they're happy we made up. They don't like when we bicker," you told her. Jessie cocked a smirk and rest a hand against your stomach once more.

"Well, now I want to bicker and make-up again so I can feel them again." Your hand came to rest over hers and Jessie thumbed the back of your hand. "I think they don't like it when I make you cry. Rightfully so."

"Well hopefully they know I was being marginally irrational," you joked. "They'll make themselves known again soon. I'm sure," you told her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "And when they're kicking up a storm in the future and bruising my insides, I'm going to blame you for encouraging them."

----------

The following week, Jessie sat with you again at Dr. Mal's office for the anatomy scan. She gave you a small smile as you lay reclined on the table and the ultrasound tech applied the gel to your swollen abdomen.

Jessie lifted your hand and gave you a kiss on your knuckles before clasping your hand in both of hers. This appointment felt so different than the first ultrasound. While she'd been so nervous the first time around, and it would be a lie to say she wasn't nervous now, this time she felt more excited than anything.

She subconsciously held her breath as the technician brought the probe to your stomach and started scanning. Your hand tightened around Jessie's as images started to form on the screen.

"There's your baby," the technician said as the visuals became more defined.

Jessie beamed, eyes fixed to the screen and only pulling away when she saw your head flick towards her with a glowing smile of your own. She squeezed your hand.

While in the first scan, your baby was merely a small shape, now, your baby was unmistakable. She belatedly realized she was tearing up already just at the image before you.

"I'm going to take a number of images and scans here, and then Dr. Mal will come in after she's reviewed and she'll talk through everything with you. And we'll share all of this with your midwife's office, okay?" The technician reminded you; you both nodded, distracted with the images on the screen instead.

When the technician finished, it was just Jessie and you in the room as you got changed and awaited the results. Jessie beamed as you placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her deeply, a bright smile on your face when you pulled back.

"It all looked good, right? Like, there would've been some obvious signs if something was wrong, right?" You asked as you sat down with her.

Jessie nodded. She didn't really know, though she'd done her best to try to do some research, but she didn't really know what she was looking for.

"Everything seemed fine and the technician didn't let on if anything was concerning, but," Jessie slowed, "if anything were wrong, we'll take things one step at a time and we'll get through it together."

It felt like ages before Dr. Mal entered the room. Jessie let out a breath she'd inadvertently been holding upon seeing her enter with a smile.

After some initial greetings and a general check-in, she finally broached the scans.

"I'm sure you're just wanting to talk about the scans, right?" She asked with a knowing smile. Jessie blushed lightly, but nodded and you answered "Yes." She laughed and nodded. "I figured as much. That's what every parent wants."

She pulled up the scans on a monitor and began walking you both through everything. The placenta's position, the amount of amniotic fluid, how the baby's major organs and structures were developing. Jessie felt relief wash over her as everything was relayed as either satisfactory or even good.

"And although these are simply estimates, based on your baby's gestational age, your baby is developing very well. In fact, they appear to be slightly above the 50th percentile in terms of their size - closer to 65, actually. So, momma, you're doing a great job of nurturing your baby and, mom, you're doing a great job of taking care of her and making sure she has everything she needs. This doesn't necessarily mean your baby will be bigger at birth, but it can be an indicator."

Jessie felt your eyes on her and she inadvertently began to blush.

"And, it says here that you wanted to know the baby's sex. Is that right?"

Jessie nodded rapidly and you affirmed.

While Jessie, of all people, knew that the sex assigned at birth wasn't going to dictate how your child lived their life or who they would grow up to be, you both agreed that you still wanted to know. Neither of you were overly into gender norms, so regardless of what was revealed, it wasn't going to be a blue or pink path forward, you simply were curious and it could help inform some aspects of their arrival.

"Okay. Well, you are going to be the very proud mommas of..."

You both tightened your grip on one another's hand.

"...a baby girl."

A/N: Next chapter will be J and R going on a baby moon up to Canada. Drive-by visit with the Flemings included!

[frudoo]

Random König Headcanons

Hey y'all! This is my first post on here so I hope it's alright <3

These are all pretty SFW (for now >:)), so I don't think there's really any content warnings??? Idk let me know if I'm wrong.

Likes going to Build-a-Bear. Will definitely make your bear and his bear kiss.

This man can COOK. Oh, you want takeout? Nah. He's already pulling out the ingredients for your favorite dish. Buys the two of you matching aprons.

Talks to animals like they're babies. I also feel like the man just... attracts wild animals like birds and squirrels. Undercover Disney princess??? Perhaps.

Speaking of babies... the man is so good with kids. Laughs all giddily when toddlers climb him like a tree. Wants you to have his babies so bad

Actually has a decent singing voice. Get him drunk enough and he's doing karaoke like a pro. Oh, and if you agree to sing a duet with him??? He's GONE. Goes all out.

Likes to hold pinkies when walking around in public. He likes holding hands, too, but when he's feeling a little more anxious he'll intertwine your pinkies. PDA isn't his strong suit but he HAS to be touching you at all times, and it's like a pinky promise that he'll always be there with you :,)

Draws patterns/words on your back with his fingertips when y'all are laying in bed. Mainly a bunch of pet names, "I love you"s, and hearts. And cartoon penises

This big burly BEAST of a man loves being the little spoon, no matter how impractical it is. Honestly loves any cuddling position though.

Pouts when you're not giving him enough attention. His lips get SO puffy when he's jealous. Talking to one of his friends? He's grumbling German insults to them under his breath. Eventually he'll just scoot closer to you on the couch and rest his legs on top of your lap. BAM, now he's got your attention, even if it's just you telling him that he's crushing you. Big ol' lap dog.

Likes to do your hair!! He'll take pictures of what he's done and show them to you like a hairdresser :,) It could be the worst hairstyle you've ever seen but you're wearing it PROUDLY.

On the rare occasion that you two go out to a restaurant, he REFUSES to tell the waiter if his meal is wrong. Oh, it's shrimp and he's allergic to shellfish? He's telling the waiter he loves it and will just stare at the untouched plate sadly. Also will not let you trade plates with him because what if the waiter sees??? Tries to sink under the table when you finally cave and tell the waiter that the order is wrong. Glares at you the entire time he eats his new correct meal but is secretly so thankful. <3

Is absolute trash at video games. One of the best combat soldiers on the planet, but put a controller in his hands??? He's lucky if he gets three shots in.

Bought an engagement ring two weeks after you two started dating. I mean, he literally fell in love with you immediately upon seeing you for the first time, so are you really surprised??

Is a really good gift wrapper. His hands always start cramping around the holidays because he does most of the wrapping. His love language is 100% physical touch/gift giving btw.

Adding onto the singing thing... I just think he would be a really good musician, specifically a drummer.

NOSE NUZZLES. Like the Brendan Fraser type of kiss where you just rub noses after. He just gives off those romantic vibes <3

Unconventional kisses. Eyelids, the tip of your ear, everywhere you have moles, your calves, ankles... the man is obsessed with you, and he's kissing you wherever he can reach.

ADORES taking baths with you. Candles, rose petals, bath bombs: he does it all. Washes your hair for you. Lots of forehead and temple kisses.

I am unwell. I need him so bad.

Please feel free to reblog if you'd like!! I hope y'all enjoyed my little (very self-indulgent) rambles. :)))

[throughthetwistedmirror]

Otome Game ~ *Idia Shroud*

Summary: It was Idia's idea to game with you. But when you ask him for help with your otome game, he can't help but notice some similarities between him and your favorite character...

Pairing: Idia Shroud X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1004

Warning: Otome gaming

Masterlist

Taglist: @savanaclaw1996 @goseew

It was Idia's idea to game with you, although he only asked because you mentioned that you had a new game that you haven't gotten around to playing yet. You were sure he had ulterior motives when he asked you to hang out, but you didn't bring it up with him as you didn't want to scare him off. Instead, you simply grabbed your game and met him at his dorm.

Ortho was more than excited to see you. You always held a special affection to Idia's little brother that didn't go unnoticed by both parties. On more than one occasion when you weren't around, Ortho would beg his brother to finally ask you out. But Idia was far too terrified to approach you with a romantic relationship. So he simply settled for a friendship that he would never ever, ever, EVER take advantage of.

Idia made sure to clean his room before you arrived and you were pleasantly surprised. Whenever you crashed the Board Game Club meetings, Azul would go on and on about how filthy his room was. Still, you didn't point it out to him. You didn't want to make him feel any more self-conscious than he already was.

After exchanging some casual pleasantries, the two of you fell into your gaming. It was calm and relaxing. You found yourself enjoying your time with the dorm leader of Ignihyde more than you anticipated. He was considerate about your own gaming experience and kept his reactions to his game quiet. Every so often you would look up and watch what he was doing, asking questions when you felt it was appropriate. He answered all of your questions with ease and even reciprocated by asking questions about your game. All and all, it was the perfect afternoon with one of your favorite people.

Then you hit a rough patch in your game. Your sigh of frustration alerted Idia, who knew exactly what it meant: you needed help. Now, Idia doesn't like to boast about his exceptional skills when it comes to video games, but surely he could appear like your knight in shining armor and lend you a hand?

"What's wrong?" He softly asks, his gaze still trained on the game he was playing.

"I'm stuck. I don't know which boyfriend to choose." You mumble, flicking through the different options in your otome game.

Idia thought it was a good thing you weren't paying attention to him as his hair flickered pink for a brief moment. He fumbled with his control to pause his game before finally addressing your issue.

"What, what do you mean?"

You showed him the screen of your game console. "So my new game is an otome game. I have seven boys to choose from. I just completed the intro and now I have to pick one, but I don't know who to choose."

He frowned and looked at your options. "Why don't you just pick one that you like and then do the other routes later."

"That's the problem. You can only choose once. If I want to complete the other routes, I have to buy another game. It's a major capitalism scheme, but I thought the game looked fun." You shrug. "Any idea who I should choose?"

"Uh... why don't you tell me about them and then I'll help you decide."

You nod with a smile that makes the tips of his hair turn pink again. "Okay in order here you have: Ryushi, the strict student body president who just needs someone to soften his edges, Ietsuna, the lazy slacker who only cares about you, Amane, the bad boy who likes to tease and torment, Kobo, the golden retriever who is the fan favorite, Michinori, the cultured exchange student who is a little fruity in my opinion, Masanobu, the secret prince of the school who would do anything for you, and Ichibei, the otaku with a heart of gold."

"Wow." He's surprised with how typical the choices are like every other otome game. He would normally say pick the one you're most interested in as they're pretty average, but considering you can only make one choice, you have to be careful. "I guess I'd have to say the choice is up to you."

You give him a pout. "You're really going to make me make such a tough decision all on my own? You're so mean, Idia!"

He panics at your words, not meaning to make you upset with him. "Well I mean it's your game! You should pick the boy you feel is the most special to you! I can't really help you make that decision."

"I suppose you're right..."

"Who do you feel is special?"

You shrug and glance back at your choices. "Well, I first thought about Masanobu because who wouldn't want to be a princess? But I felt he was trying too hard in the prologue to try and gain your favor. So I went through the options again and I'm stuck on two: Amane and Ichibei."

He tried to not let you know how surprised and flustered he was. "Oh?"

You nod. "I mean, I'm so like other girls when I say I love a bad boy, but Ichibei... he seemed so sweet and shy. I couldn't help but be drawn to him. I think he might be my favorite."

Your explanation was not helping the poor boy's rapidly beating heart. Based on your little description about him, Idia couldn't help but see similarities between him and Ichibei. Was this your subtle way of saying he was your favorite too? Was it too much to hope that that was true?

"I think you should go with your favorite."

You beamed at his words and his heart skipped several beats. "I think you're absolutely correct! Thank you Idia!"

"You're welcome." He mumbled and tried to return to his game. But he was distracted. Your words and your choice hit him harder than he anticipated. Perhaps Ortho was right. He should ask you out…

[fcthots]

Okay but I like to think that Jason's helmet has like noise and brightness controls so he can focus when things get bad.

If you ever have a sensory overload day when he's near, and everything is just too bright, too loud, too much, he'll gently plunk his helmet on your head, turned down to block out almost everything but still leave you aware enough of your surroundings to know he's there.

The quiet helps, your eyes don't hurt as much. And you feel safe knowing he's protecting you.

❄️

ANON THIS IS FUCKING EVERYTHING

this may be a little too self-indulgent but, fuck it, I needed this

It started when you fell asleep last night, not meaning to, so you had to take a shower in the morning. Then you had to wear the pair of stiff jeans because you had fallen asleep before you washed clothes. Then the seams of your shirt became incredibly bothersome and ever-present. All of this is to say: you were destined for failure today.

The Wayne family had agreed on a public outing to go eat and keep up appearances. Afterwards, everyone would head back to the manor to either get ready for patrol or just hang out. The entire family was invited and so were the significant others, hence you. It's not something you could cancel and Jason was so happy to ask you to go. You were determined to tough it out. For him.

You sat down at the table and your chair was uneven and wobbly. Ok. Ignore it. Move on. The lights were almost painfully bright. You tried not to think about it. The music was on loop but there was a small static gap when it looped and the song itself wasn't long, so the static was every minute. Ignore it. You were seated with your back to the door so you couldn't see when or where noises were coming from. Ignore it. There was a baby crying somewhere around the back of the restaurant. Ignor-

Someone taps you and your shoulders raise. Jason retreats his hand back immediately.

"Are you ok?" You can see the worry and calculation in his eyes.

"I'm okay." Your words sound grating to your own ears.

He doesn’t look like he buys it. "Do you want me to order for you?"

You nod your head and he has you point to what you want on the menu.

You hold polite small talk with the entire family and try to avoid touching the napkin that's texture felt like sandpaper. You can do this.

You ignore the shuttering of paparazzi photos from the window and the constant buzz of screaming from outside.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. You can do this.

The waiter comes back and hands out the food. Yours is very clearly burnt.

But Bruce is paying for the food and it would be rude not to eat it, right? Yeah that's something that your mother told you.

You put it in your mouth and do your best not to gag at the texture. Jason narrows his eyes at you. Fuck, he's onto you. You smile and put your all into not gagging until he turns back to look at Dick, who is telling a story.

Nailed it.

Eventually. Finally. You get to leave the restaurant.

But it's already too late for you. You can hear cars wizzing by, horns, tires screeching, engines revving, people yelling, and all other sounds of Gotham traffic. You're thankful Jason drove his car today and not his motorcycle ir you think you would have died. Steph and Duke are engrossed in their own conversation in the backseat after they refused to ride back with Bruce after he disagreed with their opinions in some fight you didn’t get the full picture of. Jason eyes you warily, but doesn’t say a word.

It's barely 5 minutes before you're at the manor. You're sitting on the couch, back straight and legs together. Alfred likes the living room to be bright, so all the lights are on. Great for Alfred. Terrible for you. You swear there must be 50 people in this fucking family because you can hear each and every one of their voices.

The sounds are grating, the lights are too bright, Cass and Tim are tossing their gear at each other over the couch and over you head, the dogs are barking, someone is yelling, Dick squeezes your shoulder as he walks past (with good intentions), you can't fucking think-

Jason's helmet is slipped over your head. He's done it before, just not often, so you forgot it even had the function.

Everything is made dark. The noise, instead of sounding like its coming rom inside your skull, sounds low and distant. Cass catches her last piece of armor from Tim and moves presumably to go down to the cave.

It's like a sensory deprivation tank and you think you might just cry of relief.

You see Jason crouch in front of you. His voice, though quieter than it usually would be, is still clear.

"Better?"

You wordlessly nod your head. In doing so, you notice that everyone else is gone. When did that happen?

"Why didn’t you tell me?" You start getting nervous. You just knew how excited he was and didn’t want to ruin it for him. And you know he still would have wanted you to tell him, but you felt terrible. You anxiously raise your shoulders into a nervous shrug.

He sighs. "I shouldn't have asked. Questions only make it worse, huh?"

You nervously nod your head. He laughs.

"'M sorry, baby."

You shake your head no before he can continue that train of thought.

"You wanna go put on one of my big comfy shirts and we can put you in my bed?"

You nod again. That sounds like fucking heaven.

He holds out his hand and you take it.

[evilminji]

My WIP fairy hates me. But like... in that homoerotic Nemesis sorta way, I swear.

Cease an desist, woman! (I scream into the void, knowing damn well she, being my own brain, SHAN'T.)

Cause NOW? Now I CAN NOT stop Pondering, with a Capitol P, the life of a Sentient Quirk. The trials and tribulations. The indignities and sufferings. Countless micro-aggression and out right dismissal of sentience. The reduction to the EXTENSION of another.

You are not a person.

You are JUST a Quirk.

An organ that "thinks" itself separate, in the way knees spasm when struck just so. The child you are attached to just needs to get better CONTROL of you. Your words and actions are actually THEIRS. You are simultaneously an unruly animal and strange adult, not allowed near other peoples children.

Why are you trying to follow this four year old into their school? Why are you SITTING out side a pre-school? Are you stalking that child?

You are a grown adult. Connected to a random Japanese child.

The child is expected to "control" you.

Punished if they do not.

No one is listen to EITHER of you, as you try to explain the situation. The child is upset, scared, and does not have the emotional maturity to understand why you are not to blame. All they can understand is that you appeared and everything became stressful and "bad". They started getting punished. Have to share their room now.

Do you even have rights? If you get hurt, get MAIMED, what will happen to you? Can you hold a job? Own land? Open a bank account? Fuck it! Can you have a RELATIONSHIP?

If you went out RIGHT NOW and punched a purse thief, would the FOUR YEAR OLD be arrested?

If the kid grows up, becomes a hero, and you do secretarial work... does his license cover you? If YOU wanted to become a Hero, would he be your hero partner? Could he technically sit in a corner and let you work?

If no one could TELL, over an internet connection, then surely that should prove SOMETHING? Right?

And! The question NO ONE ever seems to ask!

Could..... could you LEAVE? Do people have the right to force you back? If you don't WANT to be some kid's Quirk? You're sentient. If, unlike Dark Shadow, you are not PHYSICALLY connected, but tethered by distance?

Could. You. Leave?

Just "Allright, I'm out. The way you're all treating me is unacceptable. See ya never." And walk out the door? You'd be able to gain distance as the kid grew older. As long as you hid? You be homeless, without papers, but free.

A sentient Quirk means free will. Means you don't HAVE to do shit. It's like being born with a twin, not a slave. And that Twin does NOT have to put up with your bullshit. YOU are the one asking THEM to work with you, after all.

This? Of course, ALSO just ABSOLUTELY BEGS the question? What if that four year old grew up to be a BASTARD? Just... NO self reflection or empathy. Everything is everyone else's fault, always. And they want a NEW Quirk. One that won't question them.

So they sell theirs, buy a new one. Probably die off screen trying to throw it around.

What happens to you THEN? Pain, obviously. Like... massive, massive amounts of pain. You ARE a Quirk. You're being ripped out by your metaphorical roots. By the NERVE ENDINGS. But? Do you... for lack of a better word, "reset"?

Are you back infront of "your" person? Or do you stay, safely, where you are? Both would be fascinating, honestly. Because I imagine All for One? Does NOT get sentient quirks often. If at all.

They'd sooner kill themselves.

After all, if your choice is "kill yourself and your beloved twin" or "be ripped apart and watch them die horribly, then be used to go against everything you both stood for"? You weep and promise to make it fast.

Then you make it fast.

It's... really annoying, I'd imagine, for All for One. It's not necessarily that he WANTS a sentient Quirk. But they are INTERESTING. And he likes interesting.

He also likes owning things that can't leave. Ever.

So of course he'll poke and prod at the Quirk. It will inevitably be a nightmare, either way. Because EVERY Sentient Quirk has some degree of communication aspect to it. Just because the original holder never figured it out, doesn't mean HE can't.

And while your range may now be much, MUCH bigger? Because the fucker is strong as hell? How useful is that... if he can talk to you when ever HE feels like it? Day or night. 24/7.

And that's assuming you don't reset. God help you if you reset. Because THEN your STANDING infront of, most likely, pre-face-smash All for One. Who's looking at you like he just won a Mildly Interesting Prize and you would PREFER HE NOT. But what are you gonna do?

Walk out again?

You think THAT'S an option here?!

I mean... you can and do TRY. But, obviously not. So like? Fuck ™.

THEN the question becomes? Would YOU go to Tarturaus. Are you a hostage? Or an accomplice? You have the same level of power and authority as a cat, deliberately knocking pages of tables and cups to the floor, but... like? Oooooh~ oh yeah! THATS gonna slow him down! His empire crumbles beneath the sheer MIGHT of your petty inconveniences!

*trips the doctor again*

Fffffuck you.

[a-998h]

Hi! Accidentally doxxed myself upon the second request (I forget to turn on anon). Do you mind if I go anonymous again?

Requesting platonic reader as the reincarnation of the Anemo Souvereign, yet not knowing about their true identity this time! A playful, witty soul yet reserved and understanding with Venti, Neuvillette and perhaps Zhongli?

Hope you take care of yourself. I'm grateful for the work, but your health matters, too!

🌙 anon

I don't mind, who you choose to request is not my business, and that you for worrying about me 🌙 anon. Don't forget to take care of yourself because you worry about me💙

You two met before Lantern Rite

You were a child that had befriended the Melusine

They would take about you, so Neuvillette got curious

He goes with the Melusine to meet you

When he sees you he notices a few things

1. You have ears like his

2. You were using Anemo powers

3. You had no vision or gnosis

He knows only the arachons, Traveler, and dragons like him can use the elements without visions

When he approached, you became the most respectful kid ever

He asked if you knew the Traveler

Reader: "Yeah, he helped Liyue, Mondstadt, Sumeru, and us,"

He sighs, and asks if you knew the Traveler personally, you said no

He knew you weren't a god because you felt so human

When the pieces were put together, I swear he turned pale

You were a street kid so you had no idea where you came from

Neuvillette is just staring as he realized that you're the reincarnation of the Anemo dragon, a member of his family

Keeping face, he talks with you and buys you food

He decodes to adopt you, because I say so

Furina adores you and so does Neuvillette

Your playfulness makes an appearance when you and Furina are together

Loves the jokes and puns you make in an effort to make him happy

Keeps that fact that you're the reincarnation of a dragon sovereign a secret

Treats you like his child, the same way he is with Furina

Teaches you how to keep this power in check, so nothing happens to you or anyone else

Takes you with him and Furina to Lantern Rite, where you wander off causing panic in him

You were at Lantern Rite with Neuvillette and Furina

You wandered off and Furina found you

Zhongli was with Hu Tao who ran up to Furina

They talked business while you stood with Zhongli

He introduced himself to you and it was clear you were shy

As the four of you walked, Zhongli was telling you about Liyue

He realizes you're a dragon when Furina accidentally lets it slip

Zhongli freezes a bit but recovers

Furina says it's a joke but he knows its not

Treats you like a grandchild

You're his dragon child

Will fight Neuvillette for custody like the divorced couple they are

You now spend certain times of year in Liyue

Teaches you how to be a dragon, and tries to get you to shape shift into a dragon form

Teaches you dragon things

Finds your wit and playfulness refreshing

Has you hang out with Hu Tao for the fun or both of you

Has to send letters to Neuvillette proving your safe

Takes you to the mountains to use your powers so no one gets hurt

Learns about it from Zhongli

When he meets you, he brings you to Dvalin

Hopes you and Dvalin bound as dragons

Makes a lot of jokes about you being a dragon

Loves your Anemo powers

Helps you control your powers

Plays around with you

You two have battles of wit regularly

Never tells anyone about your dragon side

Is like your fun uncle

Shows you his own powers

Asks if you can turn into a dragon

If not, takes you on Dvalin rides so you can experience flying

Shows you wind gliding as well

Ingeneral, all three love you and your dragon self. The try to help you master your powers and keep you dragon identity a secret from you for your own good.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 1

Word Count: 5.9k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fucking on furniture, orgasm control, premature ejaculation, masturbation, PIV sex, toxic relationships.

“Stay home” Beomgyu holds you from behind, kissing your neck

“We can’t. I’ve canceled on them too many times now.” You whine. Beomgyu keeps doing this. Every time you try to hang out with your friends he pouts and whines until you stay home with him. It was cute at first–how he couldn’t get enough of you–but now your friends are actually getting pissed at the both of you. 

“But I missed you.” You can feel his pout on your skin as his lips brush over it. 

“We hang out every day. We live together!” You protest, but you’re unable to keep the chuckle from your voice.

“I know but that’s not what I mean.” He mumbles cryptically and you turn your head towards him. “Then what do you mean?” 

He flushes and buries his face in the crook of your neck so you wouldn’t see him. “Never mind. It’s stupid”

You grab his long hair, gently lifting his head up so you can lock eyes with him. “No, tell me.”

He lets out a shaky sigh. “It’s just… you ever feel like you and someone else are two halves of the same soul and you’ve spent and will spend all your lifetimes trying to reunite with them and when you finally do, you just can’t bear to let go?”

You’re rendered speechless by his impassioned, if self-conscious, speech because it captured exactly what you’ve always felt about him but was too scared to say in case you scare him off. 

You met Beomgyu while at work at the coffee shop at the local mall around christmas time last year. You spotted this adorable guy in front of your store dressed in the most ridiculous teddy bear sweater you’ve ever seen, collecting donations to buy toys for the kids at the local shelters. You fell for him at first sight and wherever he’d show up, you’d spend your entire shift stealing glances at him to the point that even your coworkers noticed. You couldn’t get over how sweet what he was doing was and you so badly wanted to go up to him and tell him that but you didn’t want to come across as a weirdo. It was only after your coworkers’ incessant nagging that you finally mustered up the courage to go up to him, hot drink in hand, offering it to him and telling him how much you admired what he was doing and how cute he his sweater was. 

The conversation flowed much more easily than you could have ever anticipated–almost like you two were meant to be–and from then on it became your daily routine to bring him a cup of coffee during your break and have a chat with him until you were yelled at by your boss for taking too long. 

And when Christmas day was fast approaching and the both of you knew he wouldn’t be there much longer, a snarky comment from your boss finally brought the two of you together and forced you to get over your trepidation. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. She likes you. He likes you. She finishes her shift at 6. Come pick her up. She likes sunflowers.” 

And that is how you and Beomgyu started dating. 

“Well now I can't go.” You lament, and he smiles radiantly, victorious. 

God your friends are gonna be so mad.

But it’s hard to think about that when his lips are attached to your neck, sucking at your most sensitive spots as he grinds his dick into your ass. 

“You look so sexy in that dress.” He murmurs wantonly, groping your tits coarsely over said dress. 

“Careful or you’re gonna blow your load on my ass.” You tease, referring to the first time you two got intimate. He was so excited then that he ended up cumming just from a little grinding. He’s lucky he’s so cute and that you found his enthusiasm endearing because if any other guy had cum so prematurely like that, you would’ve probably kicked his ass out the door. But also he ended up eating you out for the rest of the night until your legs turned into jelly to make it up to you, so it wasn’t too bad. 

Beomgyu pulls your dress down over your tits so he can play with them directly as he sucks on the skin of your neck, and you can feel your arousal begin to build up between your legs. 

"Beomgyu…" 

"My sensitive baby." He chuckles, index fingers flicking your nipples. You squeeze your thighs together in need and push your ass back against his cock pointedly. "Fuck me, Beomgyu."

It doesn’t take much prompting to get Beomgyu to give in. He has always been needy for you and today was no different. He pushes you against the table, flipping the skirt of your dress up and pulling your underwear out of the way before he pushes himself inside you, filling you up so perfectly as if he was made for you. 

“Oh, Beomgyu…” You gasp, clawing at the wooden surface of the table. This is hardly new to you. Beomgyu has fucked you on every surface of this house, many times. He's insatiable. He just can't get enough of you, and neither you him. 

“Baby, I don’t think I will last long.” He grunts into your ear and you chuckle breathlessly. “Of course not. You never could resist my pussy, huh?”

“No.” He shakes his head, driving his cock into you harshly. 

“Then cum. Show me how much you need me.” 

“Fuck, I do. I do, baby.” He groans, pressing his hips flush against your ass as he empties his seed inside of you. 

“Well, that was quick.” You giggle when he catches his breath and he whines, flipping you over on your back and pulling your thighs up against your body. You know what’s coming next. Beomgyu can never leave you unsatisfied and when he finishes too early like this he usually makes it up to you by giving you the best oral of your life. 

But when he sees his cum dripping out of your swollen pussy, he stops and stares, almost hypnotized by the sight, and a far away look takes over his face. 

"What?" You ask, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Nothing."

“Do you like seeing me dripping with your seed? Are you thinking of knocking me up?” You tease, and his head snaps up to look at you at a neck-breaking speed, a horrified look on his face. 

Fuck, did you read the situation wrong? Why did you say that? You don’t know why you said that!

Actually you do. You had another one of your dreams today–the ones where Beomgyu is a prince and you’re a lady at court and you’re in love. Beomgyu doesn’t like hearing about them much. He calls them silly and always brushes them off, not wanting to hear about them. But his lack of enthusiasm doesn’t stop you from having them, and each one feels more real than the other, as if it had actually happened. As if you were recalling memories of a previous life. And the latest dream was no different. 

"Our children are not going to want for anything.” Dream Beomgyu says, hand splayed protectively over your tummy. 

“What?” Real-life Beomgyu sputters, and you explain yourself shyly, sitting up and covering yourself as you chuckle nervously. “I just… I had a dream that I was pregnant with your baby. You know, when you were a prince…” 

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. His face immediately hardens and his reaction this time surpasses mere distaste and veers into anger.. “I was never a prince. None of your dreams ever happened. They’re just meaningless dreams. Don’t be stupid.” 

"Stupid?" You draw back at the sudden outburst. 

"Yes. The whole prince thing is stupid. You need to get out of your head and come back to reality. The whimsical, superstitious act is not cute anymore." He snaps, far too much vitriol in his voice for such a silly topic.

"Why are you being such an ass? Would it hurt you to just listen and laugh with me? Or is the idea of us having a baby together so appalling to you?" You don’t know why you’re going so hard to defend your dreams or why he feels the need to tear them down, but you can’t ignore the sudden shift after he heard you mention the possibility of having a child together, and his answering laugh cuts you deep.

"You don't know anything." Beomgyu says, getting cryptic like he always gets whenever you talk about your dreams. Usually you’d let it go, but not this time. Not when he was so disgusted with the idea of having a child with you.  

"Don't know what?" You ask, frustrated. “That you find the thought of having a child with me so appalling?”

"I don't want to talk about this right now."

Of course, he never wants to talk about it. He always runs away whenever the topic of discussion gets too serious for his liking. For a guy who is so self-proclaimed obsessed with you, he sure does work hard to avoid these meaningful talks. Well, if he wants to avoid it so bad then you’ll make it easy for him. 

"Fine." You hop off the table and go to the bathroom to clean yourself up and change your underwear before going back out, intending to leave the apartment to get some fresh air and most importantly, to get away from Beomgyu. 

But Beomgyu has other ideas, following you at every step like a second shadow, and when he sees you going for the door, he steps in between you and it. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

"I'm coming with you." He states decidedly and you can’t keep the snort out of your mouth. He always does this. He always makes decisions for you. Well, not this time. "No. I need space." 

But he shakes his head firmly. "You're angry. I don't want to let you go angry."

Beomgyu always hated parting from you on bad terms. He always needed to make sure everything was okay before he let you out of his sight. It was sweet at first. You might’ve even considered it healthy at some point, but right now it’s driving you up the wall. Arguments can't always be resolved on the spot, especially when one party refuses to even talk, and so forcing you to be together just ends up with you lashing out because you can't blow off steam. 

But Beomgyu doesn’t care. He just doesn't want you out of his sight. 

"Beomgyu, for fuck's sake, get out of my way. I don’t want to be around you right now." 

"You know I can't let you go angry." He reiterates as if that is a necessity you had to cave to. 

"You're going to have to learn to. If you won’t talk to me then you have to at least give me some space.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.” You shout, angry and fed up with him. “I don't know what the fuck happened to you in the past to traumatize you like this, because god knows you refuse to tell me, but I can’t coddle you about it anymore. I need to take a breather and I don’t care if you–”

"I lost a baby before." He utters softly but it was deafening to you. 

"What?" 

“Me and my ex, we had a baby on the way but I lost both of them. That’s why the idea of having a baby freaks me out so much. I can’t handle losing another one. I can’t handle losing you.… it’s just–it’s–” He starts tearing and stuttering his words, looking distraught as he attempts to explain himself to you, and you feel absolutely wretched for doubting him. You’re such a fucking bitch for forcing him to reveal this to you, but you’re also selfishly glad he did. Even this tiny sliver of his past is much needed context to explain the man you love so dearly. 

“I—I don’t know what to say.” You pathetically utter after an exorbitant amount of time, never having expected such a revelation. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You take him into your arms and he sobs against you, holding onto you tightly. "I want to have a child with you. Nothing would make me happier. You have no idea. But I'm just too scared." 

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want to have a child right now. We can talk about it again in the future. We’ll work it out together, okay?” You pull back slightly–not stepping out of his tight embrace, not that he would’ve let you–and take his face into your hands, wiping his tears off. 

He nods pitifully. “Okay.” 

You should’ve left it at that. He’s in a bad state. You should be comforting him right now, but you’re selfish and this might be the only time he’ll open up to you, and now you have to know. 

"Did… did you love her?" 

"With all my heart." He doesn’t hesitate in answering and you feel a pang of jealousy towards his deceased lover. How fucked up, is that? "More than me?"

He is quiet for a while and every second that passes in silence tears your heart apart. 

"There is no one I love more than you." He finally says and you let out a sigh of relief that was entirely too obvious. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m being such a bitch. I’m jealous of a dead girl, how crazy is that?” You ramble nervously, but Beomgyu stops you with a kiss. 

“That’s okay, baby. I know you don’t mean it like that.” He reassures you and you sigh in relief once more. He never judges you for the messed up thoughts you sometimes get. He always understands and emphasizes and that’s part of the reason why you love him so much. 

Still you keep the rest of your questions about her to yourself. It must be a sore subject for him given how he was so protective of it before. The only thing you need to know right now is that you’re the love of his life, not her, not anyone else. You.

____________________

“He’s not trying to keep me away from you. He’s just really clingy. No, he’s not manipulating me–” Your heated defense of your boyfriend is cut off when you spot said boyfriend standing in the doorway of the kitchen where you had been taking your friend’s call so he wouldn’t overhear it. Well, so much for that.

“Oh shit, I'll call you back.” You mutter to your friend and end the call, cutting off the protests on the other line. 

“Was that Yunjin?” He asks and you nod guiltily. Yunjin doesn’t like Beomgyu. She made that very clear to the point that despite you not telling him, he knows it well. 

“She’s just being Yunjin. Don’t mind her.” You try to smooth things over but he shakes his head. “No, it’s my fault. I’m not helping things by keeping you all to myself. It’s just because I love being with you so much, you know that right?”

“I know, baby.” You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love spending time with you too–hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t you come along? It would be killing two birds with one stone, hanging out with my friends while still being with you. And it’s been so long since they’ve last seen you. I’m sure once they get a look at your cute face, they’d forget all their reservations.” 

You laugh, but Beomgyu looks nervous. “I don’t know. They don’t really like me anymore.” 

“Because they don’t see much of you and you’re taking over all my attention. If they see more of you, they’d fall in love with you all over again.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. You’re irresistible, puppy.” 

_________________________________________

And just like you said, things go well. After your friends get over the initial annoyance that you brought Beomgyu along, they start warming up to him once the conversation starts flowing and Beomgyu’s radiant personality shines through. You’ve even caught Yunjin crack a smile or two at his antics. 

But all your high hopes come crashing down when another person joins your party. The stranger’s name is Taehyun, and he’s apparently the new roommate of one of your friends, which is fine enough, he seems like a nice guy and you’ve always welcomed new additions to your group. 

Beomgyu on the other hand, must feel differently, because as soon as Taehyun joins you, his whole demeanor shifts and he becomes closed off and snappy, getting mean with his comments that were all seemingly directed at the newcomer. It was starting to ruin the mood, making your friends mad again, and so when he makes yet another snarky remark to something Taehyun innocuously said, you have to pull him aside and ask him what his problem is. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Beomgyu? My friends were just starting to warm up to you again. Why are you being such a dick?” 

“I want to go home. I don’t feel very good.” He lies, and you know it’s a lie because he doesn’t sell it very well, glaring daggers at the table where your friends are seated.

“Then go home.” You snap, having little remaining patience for his behavior. 

He gives you a look of betrayal. “You know I can’t leave without you.” 

“You’re going to have to if you can’t act like a fucking adult. The reason I invited you is because I wanted to help smooth things over between you and my friends. I wanted to prove to them that you’re not the manipulative asshole they think you are, but honestly the way you’re acting right now, makes me wonder if maybe they are right and–”

“No they’re not.” He cuts you off, lips tightly pressed together. “Fine, we'll stay.” 

“Beomgyu…” You eye him with doubt but he insists. “I’m fine. Let's go.” 

He drags you back to the table and you stop your protests so your friends can’t hear it. 

Beomgyu is quiet for a while, which doesn’t make for pleasant company, but at least he’s not being an asshole. Well, not for a bit anyway. Because once Taehyun mentions he’s looking for a job and you tell him that your place of work is hiring, Beomgyu starts acting up again.  

“I’m sure he doesn’t want to work as a barista, honey.” Beomgyu speaks over you, but Taehyun rebuts him. “I do. The hours sound good for a student like me and the work doesn’t sound too hard. It’s perfect.”

Once again, Beomgyu speaks instead of you. “But you seem like an intelligent guy. Surely serving coffee to other people would be embarrassing for you.”

“What the hell, Beomgyu?” You hiss, mortified at his implication, and in front of all your friends too. Is that what he really thinks? Does he think your job is embarrassing?

“I just mean that he could be doing something else.” 

“And what does that make me? A loser who isn’t good for anything except serving people coffee, a job you apparently think is humiliating for someone intelligent to have?” 

“You’re overthinking it, baby. I didn’t mean–”

“Oh, I didn’t think my dumb brain was capable of overthinking.” You laugh tearfully, and stand up before your friends could see you cry. “Excuse me.” 

You storm out of the restaurant and Beomgyu follows after you. 

“Baby!” 

You whip around and scream at him. “If you think what I do is so demeaning then why are you even with me?”

“I don’t think that.” He denies vehemently, “I just didn’t want him to work with you. I got bad vibes from that dude.” 

"Not this again.” You groan. Of course this is why he was behaving in such a bizarre and rude manner. Beomgyu is a jealous guy. You tried reassuring him a million times that he’s the only guy for you but to no avail. He gets paranoid and thinks every guy you interact with will steal you away from him, and here he is doing it again. “Are you seriously fucking jealous of a guy I don’t even know?"

“I am not jealous.” He tries to deny, badly. “I told you I got bad vibes from him.”

“Bad vibes?” You laugh hysterically. “If bad vibes are all it takes then I would’ve broken up with you long ago because all my friends got bad vibes from you.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Your friends hate me. They’ll say anything to tear us apart. I bet they even invited that guy just to piss me off.” 

"Oh my god, are you listening to yourself? You’re so–ugh, just please leave me alone, Beomgyu." You try to walk away from him but he quickly reaches out and grabs you by the arm, turning you around to face him, freaked out. "No, please stay."

"Let me go, Beomgyu." You demand, your anger bubbling to dangerous level but Beomgyu stand firm. “No. You can’t leave me.”

“Let me go.” 

“No.” 

“I’m serious, Beomgyu. Leave me the fuck alone.” 

“No.”

You can’t help it. He’s driving you insane, and you can’t hold back anymore. You slap him. 

But you immediately regret it when you see the red mark beginning to bloom across his cheek. 

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. You just drive me–" He kisses you passionately, holding onto you even tighter. 

"Do anything you want to me, I don’t mind. Just don't leave me." He breathes against your lips, eyes looking crazed in their desperation. 

God, this is sick. You shouldn’t entertain this kind of twisted trade-off. You should push him away and demand he leave you be. You shouldn’t take him up on his offer to let you unload your frustrations physically onto him. Maybe you should even end it…

But you can’t. You’re as invested in this as he is. You don’t want to break up with him. You don’t want to leave him. You just want to punish him for the crazy way he’s behaving. You want to feel like you’re not letting him get away with this without actually having to break up with him .

And so you accept his sick offer.

_______________________________

"You're so pathetic, Beomgyu." 

He shudders at your words, and you don’t know if he likes it or hates it. All you know is he tries to reach out to you but his hands are held back by the bindings you’ve fashioned out of your scarves. 

He cries out for you but you have no mercy for him. This is the punishment he chose for himself and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it. 

“You’ve really pissed me off this time, Beomgyu. Acted so crazy just so I wouldn’t leave you. Well, now you get to sit back and watch me fuck myself and you can do nothing about it.” You taunt him as you ride the dildo you have strapped around his abdomen, his own cock brushing up against your ass every time you move, getting enough stimulation to keep him hard but not nearly enough to get him off. 

"Please, sit on my cock. It feels better than that plastic toy. I'm all hard and ready for you. Ride me, please. Cum on my dick. Use me instead of that toy." He babbles, but you don’t listen. 

You want to make him suffer, and you’re scared to dwell too long on where that emotion comes from. You love your boyfriend. You’ve never wanted to hurt him before, but he really pushed you too far this time. 

"You did this. You’re making me do this to you. You’re being a terrible boyfriend." 

"No, don’t say that.” He shakes his head vehemently, getting teary. “I'm sorry. I’ll do anything to make it better. Whatever you want." 

"Will you let him work with me?" You hazard to ask and his face immediately transforms. "No." 

You scoff–so much for being apologetic–and ride the dildo faster, moaning out loud just to piss him off. You see him struggling and feel him trying to buck his hips against you but he can’t accomplish much more than his cock just grazing your ass. 

Still, you can feel the wetness from the precum touching your skin. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” 

“You just don’t know what you are to me.” He counters, leaving you speechless. One thing about Beomgyu is that he will never fail to tell you just how much you mean to him. It’s why you’ve always been so weak when it comes to him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t punish him for his behavior. “Clearly not much if you don’t even trust me to work with him.” 

“You don’t know.” He insists, but doesn’t deny your claim which pisses you off even more. 

“Don’t know what? That you think I’ll cheat on you if given the slightest chance? Is that something she did to you? Is that why you’re so fucked up?”

His silence is all you need to know, and you don’t know if you should feel bad for him that the woman he loved so much cheated on him, or angry that he assumes you would do the same just because she did. 

“Fuck you, Beomgyu.” The two emotions mix together and fuel you further, and you put your hand between your legs to touch yourself, getting yourself off if only just to spite him, knowing how much he needs to always be the cause of your pleasure. 

“Baby, please.” He begs, seeing you inch closer to your end, and it’s killing him that he’s not the reason for it. Little does he know that his desperation and blinding need for you is the greatest contributor to your impending fall over the edge. 

But you don’t let him know that, jumping erratically on the dildo and attacking your poor clit with your fingers, sending yourself off on the most emotionally exhausting orgasm of your life. 

“Baby…” You can hear him whimper pitifully in the background, his shape blurry in front of you as you fight off your own tears. “Baby…”

“What is it?” You hiss after your orgasm passes, anger finally overpowering the lust. “Do you want to cum? Is that what you’re concerned about? Your dick?”

“That’s not it.” He tries to deny it but you’re already untying him. And despite his denial, as soon as his hands are free, he tries to reach out to grab you but you take his hands and forcefully pull them off your body. He tries to fight you but you hiss sharply at him, "Stay." 

He whimpers but listens, and when he looks like he won’t go back on his words, you let go of his hands. "Touch yourself."

"I want you to touch me." He whines and you slap his thigh. "You don't get to make demands. Not after the way you behaved in front of my friends. You embarrassed me!"

"I'm sorry." He mewls, one hand going to his dick and the other playing with his nipples, putting on a show for you, needing to gain your favor once again. Which is precisely why you lean over him to grab your phone from the night stand and unlock it, pretending to be scrolling through it as he jerks off. 

“Baby!” He protests heatedly, reaching out to touch you. Beomgyu fucking hates it when you don’t give him any attention. He withers without it.  

“Did I say you could touch me?” You seethe, not bothering to take his hands off this time, opting instead to intimidate him into it, and thankfully he retracts his hands at your tone as if it had burned him. 

“Keep jerking off.” You instruct, and as soon as he does, you go back to looking at your phone. 

"Look at me." He whines, but doesn’t stop this time. You can hear the wet sounds of his hand moving over his cock and see the movement out of the corner of your eyes.

“Please.” 

You ignore him. 

“Just look at me.” 

You keep looking at your phone. 

"Princess…."

You snap your head up, narrowing your eyes at him. He never called you that. In fact, he almost makes it a point not to call you that so he wouldn’t “feed into your prince delusion”. So for him to say that right now was really low. Not that Beomgyu cared, as long as he had your attention. 

"Yeah, yeah, that's it." He moans, thrusting into his fist.

Maybe it's sick. Maybe you're enabling his behavior but god, was it so sexy to have him so completely obsessed with you that just your gaze is enough to get him off. 

“Is this what you want, Beomgyu? For me to look at you and see how you’re such a pathetic slut that you can’t even get off without me giving you my attention?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t even try to deny it, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes. Never want you to look away from me. I missed you so much.” He hiccups, thrusting up into his tight fist. 

Here he goes again, talking about how much he misses you. You’re sure if you spend every single second of your life with him he’d still complain about missing you. You can’t call him out too much on it though–not when you feel the same, not when you thrive on it. 

“Can I cum?” Beomgyu asks breathlessly and you sneer down at him. “No.” 

He lets out a heart-broken moan, hand clenching at your thigh. “No. Please. Need to cum.”

"You don't deserve it. Stop." You say cooly, and he wails. "Please. I need to cum. I can’t–I can’t.”

His voice gets high and breathy, strung out, but you don’t care. No, you relish in it, knowing what you’ll make him do next. "Stop."

He cries out, shaking his head violently, not stopping. "No. No. I need it."

You can see how close he is. You can see his cock flushing red, his balls tightening and his precum pouring out of his head. You have to put a stop to it, physically removing his hands yourself, but as soon as you touch him he loses it, staining your belly with his cum. 

"Ah--ah--oh god–please touch me–please." He bucks his hips in the air, unable to reach you, and cries, tears pouring down his face. "I love you. I love you. Please use me. Please don't leave me.” 

You've never been this rough with Beomgyu and for a second you wonder if you're going too far, but he looks so fucked out by the way you’re being mean to him that you can’t back down now.

Still he is your sweetheart. He’ll always be your sweetheart and you can’t bear to see him in such distress, even if he brought it onto himself with his jealous and obsessive ways.

"Hush, Beomgyu." You murmur, grabbing his dick and jerking him off. He gasps from the overstimulation, his hooded eyes blowing wide as he grabs onto the sheets, but he doesn’t stop you, thrusting his hips up into your grip instead. 

"Ah–oh fuck–AHH–" 

"Cum for me, Beomgyu." Your hand blurs over his cock, wet slapping sounds filling the room as your fist collides with his balls on each downstroke. 

"Yes–princess–all for you." If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve found the sound of him calling you ‘princess’ the most natural thing in the world. As if he had always done it. As if he truly believes it. 

But it’s all just to get you to give him what he wants, and sadly, it works. You’re as weak for him as he is for you. It’s unhealthy–is what your friends have told you after his charms have worn off in their eyes, but you fear it would never wear off for you. You’re absolutely, sickeningly in love with him and that’s why you’ll always make excuses to let him do the crazy things he does to you and for you. 

And the things you do to him. 

Beomgyu looks spent after his orgasm and he tries to pull you down in his arms to cuddle, but you stop him. 

"Wait a second." You say, grabbing a few tissues and wiping yourselves off. 

His hold on you remains so tight you feel his heart beat furiously against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I’ve said. I just don't want you to work with him."

You look up at him, mind a little clearer now that you’re all wrapped up in his warmth, feeling safe in his embrace. 

"I will work with him. You need to get over your jealousy. I've had enough." You inform him simply. Yes, you’ve done nothing but entertain his delusions so far, but it’s high time for you to starting actually doing something about it. You know you’ll only be ruining yourself later if you don’t. Who knows what he’ll demand next if you let this go. For you to not talk to other men? To stop seeing your friends who are trying to tear you apart? To quit your job so you’d always be around him? No, you have to put your foot down now. 

Beomgyu looks so pissed off at what you’ve said, but he doesn’t say anything. He just holds you tightly, burying his face in your neck and gripping onto you so hard, you’re sure his fingers will leave marks. That’s fine. You’ll just wear something to cover the bruises. Just as long as you make this work. 

________________________________________

That night, you have another dream about prince Beomgyu, but this time a new character makes an appearance, and that is Lord Taehyun. 

"What are you doing here?" Dream Beomgyu bursts into your room, finding you and Taehyun together. 

"I came to visit the lady." Taehyun’s demeanor appears relaxed but you can see the tension around the edges of his mouth.

"Beomgyu, relax–" You try to calm him down, and he turns on you. "How long has he been here? Did he do anything to you?" 

“No, we just talked!” You snap, trying to yank your hand back from him but his grip is bruisingly-tight.“How did he get in?” 

“That’s none of your business.” You refuse to tell him but that just sets him off.

“You are my business.” He shouts, making Taehyun get up, “Let her go. You’re hurting her.” 

“Fuck you.” Beomgyu was becoming aggressive, and Taehyun looked quite on edge himself. You knew you had to be the one to de-escalate this situation before it exploded so you step closer to Beomgyu and hiss in his ear. “Get a grip, Beomgyu.” You hiss lowly at him then turn to Taehyun with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Taehyun. I need to talk to Beomgyu privately.” 

The dream ends there, and when you wake up in the morning, you make no mention of it to Beomgyu.

_____________________

A/N: Well its' finally here folks. Don't know how many chapter this will be but I hope you like it anyway.

[deuteragonists-mismatched-socks]

A Break In Routine - Shane x Reader (Stardew Valley)

Another Shane SDV fic from my drafts with a couple strange gaps in it.

Warnings: mentions of recovering from alcoholism, being imperfect, guilt and self-loathing to a certain extent. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1.4k

Shane wasn't stupid. He knew you knew that. He noticed that, the closer you got, especially after that night on the cliff, you changed. Not so much in the way you dealt with him—you were kind and persevering as ever.

You stopped brewing. He had been out to the farm before, you had like ten kegs and an evergreen crop of hops and wheat to fuel them. And Shane wasn't stupid—he'd almost gone broke from buying the stuff before, so he knew it was lucrative. You'd have to be crazy to give that up. Farmers had it rough, especially ones that worked as hard as you. Having such an easy source of passive income should've been a no-brainer.

Oh, and you stopped bringing him alcohol. You were a social drinker—he'd seen you share Kahlua-and-coffee martinis with the good doctor or bond with Leah over a sweet red. But when it came to Pam and him, you were only ever seen with soda and some filling food in hand. He wondered if you thought he wouldn't notice. If he was too out of it or too naïve.

You visited JojaMart sometimes—normally just to check on him, never to buy anything—and you always had a tense look on your face whenever he was stocking the drinks section. That, that one actually hurt. Yeah, he had bad habits. He was working, only half successfully, on breaking them. But that made him think you really thought he had no self-control. That he was going to wander forward like a zombie and mindlessly rip into the Jack Daniels and Bud Lite. He shouldn't be trusted super far, but he thought he at least deserved the sliver of faith that would be required to believe that wouldn't happen.

That was what he was thinking about as he sat next to the fireplace, cola in a stein in his hand. See, he was doing better. He wasn't used to being fully lucid at this hour of the night, but he was getting there. It was significantly more uncomfortable, sitting there in silence when he wasn't half-catatonic. Everyone else was having a great time. Even Marnie was having a... whoa, beyond friendly conversation with the mayor. Hell, where were you, anyway? You were always trying so hard to make sure he wasn't alone, and now you leave him alone? Maybe he deserved it for all those times he blew you off.

"Hey!" You suddenly appeared in his line of vision. Suddenly, even completely sober, he couldn't sort out his feelings. He was grateful to you for watching out for him; he obviously couldn't do that himself. He was annoyed that you infantilized him. He was confused that you put you with him. Why didn't you just cut loose and stop holding yourself back for someone who has done nothing but screwed over their own life?

"What are you doing here?" Shane said. Crap. That wasn't what he meant to say, not at all. He meant to say 'Why do you stay? Why do you care? I'm not worthy of you.'

Your face fell and Shane needed a drink or six. "Trying to hang out with you," you responded, your voice edged with anger and sadness. "I was—y'know what, I'll leave you be, I just wanted to give this to you."

You held your closed hand out expectantly, and he obliged with an extended palm. 

You dropped a pearl into it.

"Wha—" his mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Oh, wow, Farmer, how did you know this is my favorite?"

You were already gone. He checked the clock on the opposite wall. Well, it was already 12. Maybe you just wanted to get a good night's sleep. He hoped that was all.

But Shane wasn't stupid.

When you exited your house at 6:10 AM sharp the next morning, you almost tripped over him before noticing that Shane was sitting on your steps. This was a huge break in his routine, and it worried you. "Shane? What're you—" You stopped yourself, realizing that you were parroting his words from the previous night. 

"I didn't mean what I said," Shane said abruptly. His murky brown eyes looked into yours with absolute earnesty, and you noticed something rather special about them. They weren't teary or red-striped. He wasn't hungover, at all. 

Your brow furrowed. "About what?"

"About—about... just, how I treat you, y'know. Always blowing you off and acting like you're not worth my time. I know it should be the other way around," his gaze dropped to the ground and he scuffed his foot against the wood of the front steps.

You lowered yourself to sit next to him, knees nearly touching. Time always seemed to stand still when you spoke to him—the sun was stuck in the sky, and you weren't worried about what you were going to get done that day.

"What do you mean, Shane?"

"You know what I mean, Farmer," he said, before exhaling and rubbing his hands on his pants. "I just... I'm not... good enough, for you. I'm a, uh, flash in the pan, I guess. What I'm trying to say... is I'm sorry," he sighed, risking looking up at you again.

Your eyes seemed to look through him. "Shane," you said gently. "You're good enough, for me, for anyone," you emphasized. "And I... do understand why you say the things you do, and they are unfortunate, but I appreciate you recognizing that and apologizing."

Shane looked from your piercing eyes, to your hand that was resting on your knee, centimeters from his, back to your eyes. "I'm trying. Really trying."

You took his hand, and his heart rate spiked. "I know you are, and I know that Marnie and Jas and I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," Shane whispered. Part of him felt guilty—that somehow, Jas wasn't enough to straighten him out. But he was grateful that somehow, you were.

Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand,  comforting him further. He wondered how you could stand touching him. Even after that touching speech, he had a hard time believing you. Even if his personality, his character, was something you seemed to admire, which was beyond him on its own, look at him. He had gained... a number of pounds in the past eight months, he shaved maybe every three days, despite getting a five o'clock shadow by the end of that day. His hair was a genuine disaster, even though Marnie refused to admit it. He was physically clean (most of the time), and that was basically where the pros stopped.

"Thank you so much for coming over here this morning, Shane," you said. Shane had to suppress a shiver at the way you said his name. It didn't sound the way anyone else ever said it. Maybe it was just his imagination. 

But he was more than happy to keep imagining it. "I can't tell you... how much it means to me, that you're reaching out and, and trying. In the most non-patronizing way, I'm proud of you."

He could almost feel tears welling in his eyes. "You're—you're proud of me?"

He hadn't heard that since high school.

"Yeah, of course," you nodded genuinely.

He laughed, almost in disbelief. "Thanks."

You let go of his hand, and Shane had the chance to experience a split-second of disappointment before you used your now free arms to wrap him in a hug. "You can tell me if this is okay or not," you said, your words muffled by his Joja jacket.

"It's okay," he responded quickly, trying not to squeeze you too tightly.

You pulled back, wondering for a moment if it would be going too far, before you decided to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You stood, walking off to water your crops. "I should probably let you go, you don't wanna be late for work."

Shane's face was all pink, and he nodded after a moment's delay. "Right, yeah, um...thanks for listening to me," he stood as well. "See you later."

You watched him take the path from your house into town, zipping up his jacket against the wind. He had patched the holes in it.

[sapphic-agent]

Bro, Aizawa can go kick rocks. That last ask you posted got me so mad about him all over again.

I have no clue how Hori meant to write Aizawa. On one hand, he admits he really has no idea what the fuck he's doing as a teacher, doesn't actually teach his students anything, lets Bakugou do whatever the hell he wants with no consequences, and was wrong to treat Izuku the way he has been since day one. He even admits that he has no clue about his students DESPITE THE UA TRAITOR BEING ONE OF HIS STUDENTS.

On the other hand, he's arrogant enough in his teaching abilities to get offended when Mic calls him out for being a terrible teacher, doesn't say shit about Ida's internship choice despite knowing how suspicious it is, only gives ONE "I'm sorry, Izuku" with ZERO reflection or introspection as to why he hated Izuku so much, and hypocritically accused All Might of favoring Izuku despite not just blatantly favoring Bakugou and Shinsou, but shutting down Mic when he brought up said favoritism.

Worst thing is, everything in the second paragraph is to be taken at face value. We're supposed to see him as Kakashi 2.0 and this amazing teacher, but really he's just an arrogant asshole who if he were a real teacher, would have gotten MANY students killed due to his negligence and love of dishonesty.

Exactly, he's so inconsistent. I suspect this is due to his role as Horikoshi's mouthpiece. Isn't it a little suspicious that both times that Bakugou faced criticism from the public, Aizawa was conveniently placed to shut them down? Because the heroes at the Sports Festival and the reporters at the press conference are supposed to be us. Horikoshi, through Aizawa, is telling us how we're supposed to be regarding Bakugou, despite the fact that Bakugou's actions completely refute what Aizawa's saying.

(The worst thing about this is that it works. I suspect a big reason why people are so convinced that Bakugou's character arc was good is because of what Aizawa says. It's easy to buy into something if it's being told to you directly)

It's actually a shame because Aizawa didn't have to be a bad character. He's actually a pretty good hero, and his attitude towards Izuku's ideals wasn't exactly wrong. His execution absolutely was and he's really shitty about it, but I can understand the fear that someone who's self-sacrificing with a quirk he can't control will get himself killed.

The issue is Aizawa didn't care enough to a) actually understand what was going on and b) make the effort to teach Izuku better. So everything about him- his background, intention, trauma, beliefs- means nothing because he's not actually taking the steps to address and amend them.

Someone- not naming names- tried to make the argument that Eri ruined Aizawa's character. But honestly? She's the only reason I like him even a little bit. If we discount the light novels (and we should because from what I can tell they're awful), their relationship can be cute, even if we only ever see him escorting her around. Those little moments make him more human. It's not great (because again, they're barely together), but it does endear me towards Aizawa, if only a tiny amount

[rocksibblingsau]

Love love love ur ideas!!!!

Do you have any more headcanons for Mount Rageon Branch or Adopted by Bergens Branch?

In Mount Rageon Branch, Velvet and Veneer are still a lil self absorbed and looking for the easy way out of things. They don't wanna do any hard work, meanwhile Branch is all about hard work and doing things for yourself.

Branch sees them fighting over wanting fame and it reminds him of his brothers, so he makes it his goal to help them realize their dreams AND remain close. Since they'd be training from childhood, they'd have a better shot at learning how to sing thanks to Branch.

I can't decide if they actually do end up good singers but if they do, Branch is their manager and there would be a moment where post BroZone reunion they see Branch managing and have JD flashbacks. Branch doesn't get bad like John did about controlling their image, but the sight of Branch taking charge and giving orders for show prep really reminds them of a less than happy time of their lives.

Branch: Alright guys, we're gonna open with 'Fame' and close with 'Watch Me Work'. No, wait. Open with 'Sweet Dreams' and close with 'Fame'. Now go out there and make Mount Rageous history! Bruce: Clay I hope you're also an EMT because I think I'm having a heart attack. Clay: I'm with you bro, this is disturbing to watch.

If they don't go the singing route, Branch helps them discover SOME sort of skill they can make it big with.

They don't call him 'Branch'. Velvet decided his name had to match theirs so they call him 'Vine'. They think it's a funny name since he's always on them 'like a vine'. Branch doesn't really care what they call him as long as they stop rubbing his hair trying to suck out his "singing magic".

When Velvet and Veneer found out about Bergens, her solution was "Just stay with us at all times. I'll hold onto you like the last designer handbag at a flash sale."

If they did encounter a Bergen, Velvet would hit them in the head with her purse that weighs 10 tons.

In Bergen Branch AU, Gristle is ironically the excitable kid while Branch can barely muster any enthusiasm for anything. Some people joke that it's like Gristle's a troll at heart and Branch a Bergen. Gristle doesn't go as apathetic and listless as he does in canon since I believe the catalyst was Gristle Sr telling him nothing would ever make him happy. Since in this AU he was given Branch, he was told that Branch would make him happy, so he still has hope.

When they're older, Branch is a sort of sarcastic adviser to Gristle. Everyone's kind of figured out that even if you can get one over on Gristle, the troll on his shoulder won't be fooled and he does NOT show mercy. Gristle also takes his opinion in pretty high regard about pretty much anything.

Branch also gets pretty comfortable with his concept of mortality and he makes jokes about being eaten by Bergens constantly.

Gristle: I got another letter asking if they can buy and eat you. Branch: At this rate I'd be tempted to tell you accept all of them and watch their faces fall when they realize fifty other Bergens also get a piece. Gristle: Branch. Branch: A peanut sized serving of grey troll. Gristle: Branch. Branch: That'd probably be the one thing that could make a Bergen more miserable than you already are, if that's possible. Gristle: Branch. I'm not selling you to get eaten by fifty different Bergens. Branch: You'd be doing me a mercy and ending my suffering.

Gristle: Branch I need you to help me with the audit. Branch: *lays on his palm* Eat me. Gristle: Later. For now you have to help me. Branch: F***. Branch: Is this how you derive joy? Making trolls do your paperwork? You're the only Bergen in the world who would make me do taxes instead of eating me. Gristle: You complain too much and it ruins my appetite. Branch: Has any troll ever not complained? Do you think on Trollstice we were all jumping for joy? 'Yippie! Death!' Gristle: I dunno, try it next time and we'll see if it works.

This trait scares and unnerves other trolls. Poppy asks him to stop once they befriend Bergens because she's worried they'll take offense and "They're our friends now, not troll-eating monsters. That's in the past."

"I'd like it to be in the present so I don't have to listen to another musical number."

[bugs1nmybrain]

Fruity Drinks: L x Reader - Drunk Sex (Minors Don't Interact)

Writer's Notes: Can you tell that I'm running out of ideas? First Shigaraki's stoned smut and now L's drunk smut. I don't encourage substance use!! It's just funny to write about with my favorite characters.

Warnings: VERY ooc L, silly L, fem reader, alcohol use, drunk sex (L and reader are both drunk), the reader is described as a young adult, oral sex (m and f receiving), 69, no penetrative sex, comedy smut sorta, lame and cheesy but kind of fluff ending

How L ended up agreeing to this little arrangement was beyond him. It wasn't that he had never consumed alcohol before. There were a few times when he'd buy a sweet drink from a nice restaurant when he went out. Drinking enough to get drunk, though? L couldn't recall ever doing that. He hated the idea of his judgement and self-control being impaired.

However, he had recently solved a very internationally significant case. You insisted that he and you should celebrate. L didn't really understand the point, he solved cases left and right all the time. He had so many under his belt that it didn't necessarily add to his notoriety anymore. In actuality, though, you simply wanted a night where you and L felt like two typical young adults, wanting to have some fun and loosen up. His solving his latest case was merely an excuse, a poor one in L's opinion.

So you and him sat in one of his more cozy rooms at his house. The room was big and decorated nicely. You questioned if L had chosen the interior design or if it was how the room was before he purchased the house. Or maybe a product of Watari's doing? Themes of white and gold rained prominent throughout the room, which added to the novelty. In front of you and L were many drinks, accompanied by juices and soda that you thought would make the drinks more tolerable. L expressed to you that he could hardly bear the taste of alcohol, so you made sure to accommodate him with some easier options.

"So, it must feel nice to have gotten that case out of the way," you comment.

A part of L was agitated by that question, perceiving it as petty small talk. "Yes, it is. Admittedly, every time I solve a case, I feel disappointed knowing there's no more to uncover from said case; that the war has been won. The satisfaction from my victory is more to compensate for it, though. I'll just have to go searching for another, now."

"Mhm. Did you have any ideas on what drinks you were interested in?" you asked.

"Hard to say. Something sweet, for sure."

"No need to over-explain yourself. I'm sure it'll be perfectly fine."

You chuckle at his very obvious statement, "I could've guessed that. I heard that vodka cranberries were sweet, so I chose stuff for that, if it's alright. I will warn you that I am not someone who mixes drinks often. I kind of don't even know what I am doing, but I tried coming prepared."

So you continued to pour L a drink, mixing vodka and cranberry juice like an amateur bartender. You also made yourself one, hoping that the matching drinks would provide some nice bonding between the two of you. When you were done, you handed your lover his drink and he held the glass with his pointer and thumb, eyeballing it for a moment.

"This would have been nice with some cherries," he comments.

"I'll remember that for next time," you chuckle, taking a sip from your drink.

L began drinking his beverage as well, furrowing his brows at the sting of the alcohol in his throat. You eyeball him, finding his face of discomfort adorable.

"Are you alright?" you ask.

"Yes, love. It's not as bad as I thought. I think the cranberry juice dilutes the taste of the alcohol, but there's still a burning sensation."

"Makes sense."

"Why exactly are we doing this again?"

"To have fun. Loosen up a little."

"Ah, I see. You know that I'm not one to do this sort of thing. Especially not anything that would impair my reasoning abilities."

"I know. Is it okay? We can stop if you'd like."

"I didn't mean that, exactly. Honestly, I'm a little curious to what you are like while intoxicated. Is that strange of me to say?" he questions, giving you an engaged expression.

"That's true, though. Perhaps I should indulge your curiosity. You deserve the privilege for being such an outstanding girlfriend, " he eyes you with a neutral expression.

You blush and laugh a bit, "No. I don't mind that."

Honestly, L being nosy was something that was a surprising turn on often.

"I actually wanted to see how you'd be, honestly. I've never seen you drunk or high or anything like that and I was curious on how your behavior would shift."

"You're the perfect psychologist."

You chuckle abruptly in response.

You laugh at his compliments, feeling a sense of comfort in knowing his admiration for you. L continues to drink his vodka cran, watching you as you drink yours as well.

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

About an hour rolls by and you and L are absolutely hammered. This was a surprise for sure. L had never submitted to this kind of lack of cognitive control, and you had surely never seen this side of him.

The two of you hadn't simply sat there and drank. You had turned on some crime documentary and sat side by side, with your form leaning onto his shoulder. L seemed to really be enjoying his drinks, as he downed one after the other. It was actually very concerning. In truth, he just really liked the taste of them and you two hadn't gotten snacks.

It seemed that L could hold his liquor quite well, and he did when he was simply watching TV. Until now. You sat as the documentary began to give the viewers options as to who they thought the suspect was in the series of murders. L went from dead quiet to deeply and prominently vocal, so much so that it startled you.

"It's him. How..? A seven year old could guess who the murderer is...that one-uh-guy."

Your eyes shot wide open and you tried your hardest to hold in a laugh.

"I'm shutting this off," L announces, clumsily reaching for the remote. He grips it sluggishly and flicks the tv off, slouching back onto the couch. He still sat in his typical position but with his head titled to the side, looking as though he was about to fall over.

You hadn't exactly processed your own intoxication up to this point. It was terribly difficult not to hold back your laughter, and ultimately, you failed. You let out the most uncensored laugh, and L shot his face your way with his finger pressed to his lip.

"What's funny?"

"You. You're cute."

"Oooooh. Yes, you tell me that very often."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh no need..my love. You're, quite "cute" yourself. Did you know that?"

Your flustered face beams a glow, both from the alcohol and your embarrassment. You continue to chuckle for way too many seconds. You sat rigidly in response, thighs pressed together and hands on top of them.

"You..."L begins. You could tell that him never being drunk before contributed to his very apparent intoxication.

"You're so pretty. Your hair,,, and your eyes...you're..how did I manage to end up with such a beautiful lady?? You're so gorgeous, Y/N."

He was plastered. This was hilarious. You thought he was lying but when you looked at him and saw his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, along with his finger teasing his lips, you could tell he was genuine. He was cute, so much so that you couldn't control more flustered laughter escaping your lips.

"Am I funny?" L asked. You couldn't tell if he was insulted or not. You hoped that it wasn't the case, as your laughter was far from out of a malicious nature.

"Yeah. I think you're the funniest person I know. You make me laugh without even meaning to, like all the time."

"Hmm...you like me that much? Do I have really have that affect on you?"

Even though you were very drunk, you could hear the tone of his voice become rather flirtatious, though uncoordinated.

"I've noticed, Y/N. You're rather addicted to my attention. And when you look at me, your face lights up. Your body tenses. Your speech becomes stammered. I'm not referring to the alcohol, nuh uh. You love me."

"Yes, of course, I love you. Why wouldn't I?"

You felt hurt a little, so you held your head down. It made you upset, because yes, he was a rather sneaky and occasionally manipulative partner. He wasn't harsh or anything, or trying to corrupt you, at least you thought. But he would try and pry out information and reactions from you, and get you to say things that would help him understand your tricks and own manipulation tactics.

"Because I am a treacherous, inhumane liar. Who's to say..I'm not lying right now? About how pretty you are, hm?"

L is always a thousand steps ahead of you, easily picking up on your suspicions of the genuineness in his compliments.

"Lovee...don't frown. I didn't meaan that. I actually, have proof. That you're pretty."

"Huh?"

"Yes. Do you want to see the evidence?????"

The drunkenness of yourself and his slurred speech confused you and so you cocked an eyebrow and let out another, "Huh?"

"Come here..Sit right here, next to me."

So you complied. You scooched directly next to L. He reaches to cup your shoulder and presses you close to him. He takes your hand carefully and sets it down over his crotch. Your heart jumps at the touch of his stabbing bulge, straining against his jeans.

"You see, do you see my point?"

You could feel his point, for sure. An unexpected moan escapes your lips, and you can feel yourself become wet instantly from the knowledge of his attraction to you. It didn't help that you loved his cock, either. You feel incredibly embarrassed at the noise you made uncontrollably, and bury your face into your hands.

"No, don't do that, my love." He takes your hand and sets it on his bulge again. "I want you. Would you be willing to indulge me? In your beauty?"

"Mmmmm...yea. Yea, I'd..like that a lot," Your verbal communication has gone out the window and you are unable to manage your composure at all. "Y-yes..yes please..."

"You're so cute," without much warning, L crawls on top of you, fumbling as he does so. He hovers over you and looks you in the eyes for a moment as his hair falls downward. With lustful, lidded eyes he makes his way to kiss the nape of your neck. Even intoxicated, he manages to maintain his romantic and calculated movements, even if they are a little sloppy.

"Mmm!"

"That's it..."

L's desperate need for stimulation encourages him to grind his clothed cock on your thigh for relief. He groans as he kisses your neck, lightly nipping at it. Your gasps cause him to twitch in his pants and he yearns out in painful arousal.

"Mmm, you're soooo pretty. Can I see your breasts? They're so nice. I want to see them."

It was a little humorous when L would talk about your body. He hardly used slang terms, such as tits. His use of clinical language was cute, though awkward. You nod with an eager, "mhm."

It took him a bit to remove your shirt and unhook your bra. Surprising for him, L is usually so good at coordinated actions. Once you were exposed for him, he merely stared at you for many seconds, cock pulsing at the sight of you.

"Oh my goodness," he comments, making you embarrassed.

You can feel your face flush and grow hotter and hotter, as well as your cunt. You couldn't help it when you began squirming your thighs together in arousal, and L let out a sigh at the impact of your movements against his erection. His penis was painfully sensitive, perhaps caused by blood flow from the alcohol.

You gripped his pants, pulling the hem to release his member so you could touch him. You tuck your hand under his waistband and wrap your fingers gently around him. He sighed heavily as you stroked him clumsily. His hips rocked himself into your hand, basking in how good it felt.

"Are you,, do you feel good?" you ask with a slurred tone.

"You have no idea."

He continues nipping at your neck. His hands were relentless, searching for any part of your body to squish or tease.

"Are you turned on?" L asks with a tone of voice that makes him almost sound guilty. He knew full well he was losing control of his gravitation toward you and perhaps wasn't being the most romantic or courteous.

"How about you look for evidence?"

"Hmm.."

L did just that, hand slipped into your pants to feel your pussy. When he discovered you had a hot, wet secretion that drenched you, he slowly plunged two fingers inside out you. You whimper in tension, but once he began rubbing your special spot, your body relaxed to his touch.

His fingers pulled out, making sure to rub your clitoris a bit. The lubricant from your pussy made his motions much more fluid. Fuck, even while he was hammered he was so precise. Sloppier than usual, but still knew exactly what they were doing.

"I...i want to taste you so badly right now," he yearns as he stops fingering you. He begins moving his way down to your crotch but you grip his hair before he can make it.

"I want to..to make you feel good, too. Let me do it to you."

"What? No. I want to bury my face in you, like right now. I don't have time for your mouth."

wow.

"I think people do like, 69? Right?"

"I'm not extremely educated in that department. But...that could be nice.."

You and L exchange a few more lusty kisses until he pushes you to lie on top of him. "You should turn the other way, right?"

Without a response you turned your body so that your ass was facing him. Your cunt hovered above him, to which he glanced at for a few moments. He cupped his hands around your ass and pulled you down so that your heat was pressed against his mouth.

You yelp quietly at the contact. You hadn't ever tried 69 and the position was rather vulnerable. However, the way L was devouring your cunt made it clear he wasn't bothered in the slightest.

He lied down with his legs crunched so that his knees were bent. You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few tender strokes and finally stuffing it in your mouth. L moaned against your pussy, enhancing the stimulation. He sucked on your clit vigorously while holding you in place.

L was interesting in that he adored eating you out. You felt bad as if you were a burden for wanting that kind of pleasure. He never objected, though. He had a pretty significant oral fixation, and running his tongue along your cunt was strangely soothing. Plus, the added bonus of the pride he felt when he made you cum was incredibly rewarding.

Blowing him was kind of difficult right now. Your mouth had a hard time coordinating, but you managed to bob your head along him. He must've been enjoying it by the muffles he made against your cunt. L's cock was a bit long, which made taking his whole length tricky. His hips jolted forward on impulse, gagging you a little.

"Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's..okay," you said in between kisses along his cock. L wanted to chuckle at how you were treating his length, but he was far too concentrated on making you cum. You were taking a little longer than usual, but it was alright. L simply thrust his fingers inside of you for a bit and rubbed your G-spot.

He could feel himself building slowly, and he wondered if he could make the two of you orgasm at the same time.

"Mmfm...you taste incredible," he comments. "You're so pretty down here, too."

L's praise always made your heart jolt a little. Sometimes you questioned his sincerity, but he seemed to want you to feel good about yourself for whatever reason. It still made you feel validated nonetheless.

You hummed on his dick in a pleasant response. L kept running his tongue along your clit in consistent motions, and you can start feeling your cunt quiver. L knows, recognizing the way your pussy twitched in his mouth. A smirk grazes his face as your cunt spasms in convulsions and you have to pop your head up for air as you mewl uncontrollably. L allows himself to let go as well as his cum spurts out onto your face while you gave him a mess as well.

You and L both were panting, absolutely overwhelmed by your sensations. An instant exhaustion washed over and you collapsed on top of him.

"Come here," L requests. You pull yourself to face him and L kisses you deeply, not caring about the swapping of genital fluids. "Tonight has been very pleasant, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hehe...I suppose. That felt very, very good."

"I thought so, perhaps we should do that more often."

"What about the drinking, should we do that more often?

"Honestly, I'm not the biggest fan. I feel very out of control of my inhibitions," he admits. Tonight was surely fun, though.

"That makes sense."

"I liked tonight though. And I'm happy I got to spend time with you."

"Me too," you fall on L's chest, and if he wasn't so drunk, he'd probably leave once you fell asleep. But he let himself drift along with you this time, enjoying your warmth. You were already sleeping, but he planted a kiss on your temple and allowed himself comfort in your love for him.

[harrysblues]

Eye Patch

The one in which Harry's kids get scared when their father gets hurt on stage.

.....................................................................................………

When Harry and Y/N's twins started to grow into toddlers, the couple quickly noticed that their youngest struggled to control her eye. That's why they didn't waste any time, and sooner rather than later, three-year-old Lena was wearing an eye patch to try to fix her strabismus.

The process of getting her used to wearing it was long and exhausting for Harry and Y/N, and they tried very hard to make it fun, buying eye patches with different shapes and designs. Their other twin, Harvey, was the most supportive of his sister, and he offered to wear matching eye patches with her whenever she was self-conscious about wearing it in public.

Harry and Y/N's twins might be toddlers, but they love and understand each other like no one else, and that fascinates their parents. Besides, the couple has tried so hard to make them understand that they are loved and supported no matter what, and it is very important to express their feelings with each other.

"Daddy do we have good seats for your concert tomorrow?" Harvey asks suddenly during their daily family dinner.

"Of course, my boy. The best in the house, always!" Harry answers, furrowing his brows. "Why do you ask, baby? You know you always get the best".

"I know, daddy!" His son answers playfully. "But it's the first time sissy is going to the concert with her eye patch, and I want her to have the best time".

Harry and Y/N can swear that their hearts melted when those words left their son's mouth.

"Oh," says Lena. "Daddy, I'm going to see you singing, right? You are going to be so far away, I need to see you".

Lena has always been a very anxious baby, and the family had, and still is, dealing with some heavy separation anxiety from her. The eye issue only added to this, and it has been hard for the couple to manage.

"Don't get nervous, my best girl" Harry tried to comfort her. "You three will have the best seats in the venue, and the important thing is to have fun! You see me every day, and I'm available always".

This seems to cheer her up, and the family moves on from this topic to talk about school. Sudden changes in conversation subjects are very common in the house, and Harry and Y/N can't lie and say they don't love it when their kids bring up things they want to tell their parents. Seeing them interact is one of their favorite things ever since they started to talk.

Dinner finished, and the kids were put to bed with a story read by Y/N and their song, Love of my life, sung by their father. It was not an easy thing to do like it usually is because they were too excited about their concert the next day. Even though Harry has toured for a while after they were born, this is the first time his twins are in the audience, watching him perform. Before this second leg of Love On Tour, they stayed backstage with Y/N and whoever would watch over them while Harry was putting on a show.

However, not long ago the twins started to feel more curious and understand more about their parent's, especially Harry's, lifestyle. That is the reason why they have let them watch the concerts whenever they show any interest about it.

The next day came by very quickly, and now the kids are getting ready with Y/N while Harry is rehearsing and putting together the outfit for tonight.

Lena has decided to wear a silver sparkly skirt that matches her cowboy hat paired with a t-shirt with a red heart in the middle, and Harvey is wearing bell jeans paired with a matching t-shirt with her sister and a royal blue boa. Y/N has let them choose their outfits, wanting them to have the most freedom possible, and she has to say she is quite proud of what they have come up with.

Unfortunately, the family didn't have enough time to wish Harry good luck like they usually would have, seeing that there had been an outfit malfunction, according to Harry Lambert, and the whole band was running late. This upset the kids for two minutes, and then Y/N suggested a face time call with Harry.

"Hi, my babies. I'm so sorry I can't see you before the show" He says with a pout on his face. "I promise I'll blow you a kiss from the stage, and give you lots of cuddles when I finish" Y/N can see the sadness on his face, knowing that he is upset he is not going to be able to get his good luck kiss and cuddle from his two favorite people.

"Don't worry daddy", says Lena. "Harvs and I just wanted to show you our outfits that mummy let us choose by ourselves!".

"Oh, isn't that right baby girl? Can you do a little twirl for daddy?" he says getting his face as close to the screen as possible, squinting his eyes to try to see his precious daughter in the most detail possible. "Daddy really wants to see your outfits".

The family spent the next thirty minutes following Harry around, from the make up chair to his changing room and everything, through his phone, until the moment it was time for him to change into his chosen outfit and get in the box.

"Okay babies, I need to go get ready", he tells them sounding way too devastated for him to be seeing them in less than fifteen minutes. "I'll see you on stage okay? Try to raise your hands the highest, sing the loudest, and have the most fun for me".

The kids promised to do all of that before blowing him multiple kisses and hanging up. They needed to get to their seats right now if they wanted to avoid getting swarmed by some fans. They are usually very polite and nice to Y/N, and especially the kids, but Y/N doesn't want to risk it without Harry there to help her.

They got there safely, and the twins, who are seated on each side of you, are happy to see that their father was right and that they have extremely good seats. They will be able to see their father without a problem.

"Mummy it's starting!" Harvey shrieks when the lights go out and the intro visuals start playing. "Oh my god mummy, I'm so excited!" Y/N never gets tired of how excited he gets every time he sees his dad in concert, it is always as if it was the first time.

Lena clings to your arm from the other side of you, her excitement for the concert to start being silent compared to her brother's. Y/N starts shouting and jumping with excitement as well, making her children copy her and start singing the songs. They also notice that Harry's outfit matches his children's, so that makes them shout even louder.

Harry doesn't take long to find them and when he sends a kiss to his family, the "Muah" that goes with his kiss is heard in the whole arena, making everyone aww.

"Mummy daddy can see us!" Both of the twins exclaim, shocked their father can see them from the stage. "If I send him a kiss will he see me?" Lena asks, genuinely curious.

You don't know how to answer because Harry is constantly moving on stage, so it would be very easy for him to miss his daughter trying to blow him a kiss. Nonetheless, Lena doesn't wait for her mothers approval and blows a kiss towards the stage.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry had been watching the whole interaction, and he didn't hesitate to take her daughter's kiss in the air and put it in his back pocket, making Lena squeal.

The concert goes as expected, and Y/N and the twins are having so much fun. Besides, Y/N is quick to notice that, distracted from the excitement, Lena hasn't once complained about the eye patch she has been in fact wearing in public. That is a huge achievement.

Y/N had planned to leave the seats and go backstage right before kiwi so they wouldn't have trouble getting there later. Nevertheless, a gasp distracts her from dancing carefree to one of the last songs of the concert.

"Mummy something happened to daddy", Lena says with concern in her voice. "Mummy someone threw something at daddy" She repeated, starting to tear up.

This makes Harvey notice how his father is rubbing his eye, and keeping it closed for way too long, making him worry and start clinging to his mum as well.

Both kids start full-on sobbing when they see their father unable to open his eye on stage, constantly rubbing it and trying to block the light from his eyes. Y/N hadn't seen the object, and she definitely doesn't want to ask her kids, so she is unable to assess the gravity of the situation. The only thing she is able to do is to take both of her kids in her arms and carry them backstage.

Once they get there she sits the kids on the sofa and dries their tears, trying to comfort them. "My babies don't cry"; she coos. "Daddy is the strongest person in the world, I'm sure he is fine. It just took him by surprise!"

This last sentence seems to calm the three-year-old twins, and they end up cuddling their mother, soft whines coming from them from time to time, sleepy eyes from all the tears getting hard for them to open.

The kids jump when they hear the door open, and when Harry goes straight to the bathroom instead of greeting them, they immediately start sobbing again. Harry hears them from the inside, and he is quick to open the door once he has checked his eye, and get to his babies as soon as possible.

"Oh my, sweet things", he says, quickly kneeling next to them and being almost pushed to the floor by the force his kids hugged him with. "What's happened? Did you not enjoy the show? Was it too loud?"

The kids don't respond, and Harry keeps rubbing their backs and kissing their tears away, unaware and completely clueless about what has made his sweethearts so upset.

"Daddy, someone hurt your eye!" Harvey exclaims with anger. "You are hurt, daddy". Harry's heart breaks with how upset he is.

"There is nothing to worry about, sunshine", he explains. "Daddy got hurt for a moment, but now I just need an ice eye patch to make the sting go away. I'll be perfect again in an hour".

"Eye patch?", his daughter perks up at the comment. "We match again?"

"Yeah baby, I'm going to match with the prettiest princess in the world", he tells her soflty.

"But mummy is the prettiest princess in the world", she fights back playfully.

"No no no, mummy is a queen", he clarifies turning to his wife. "Your mummy is the prettiest and most gorgeous queen in the entire planet".

"I agree", both of their kids say at the same time. "And then Harvey is the prettiest prince, and you are the prettiest king", finishes Lena, making Harry give her the biggest kiss on the cheek.

"That is right", Y/N answers while sitting down close to her family. "We are all beautiful and special in our own ways, isn't that right?".

"This deserves a big family hug for daddy to heal his eye, don't you think?", Harvey suggests, making Harry smile and hug his kids even closer. Y/N gets in the hug, giving Harry a passionate kiss and a knowing smile, she is sure that they are both thinking the same thing.

Their family is perfect, and they are the happiest they have ever been.

................................................................................................

I really hope you like this one guys! The response I have gotten with my first post has been insane, and now I feel very inspired to post my work. You can send requests for me to write, and don't forget to like and reblog! THANK YOU SO MUCH &lt;3

[hard-core-super-star]

i wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters [K.Bishop]

pairing: switch!kate bishop x top!reader x bottom!kate bishop

summary: things take a surprising turn when kate's alternate self shows up in the middle of an ongoing [slightly public] battle between you and your archer.

warnings: officially the filthiest smut i've ever written -> minors, you're not invited to this party but happy halloween! [selfcest + threesome; kinda dubcon again, R doesn't realize it's kate's variant...again; praise + degradation [heavier on the degrading side though]; slightly public sex; cunnilingus [R + alt!kate receiving]; grinding; orgasm denial; slight overstimulation; fingering [both kates receiving]

wordcount: 4k

a/n: happy halloween, ladies and gays. i couldn't just not leave you guys a little treat. this is [technically] another amazing request by the same lovely person as last time. i can't begin to explain how much fun this was to write and how glad i am that searching for redemption did so well. so, enjoy this as a thank you for being so lovely and allowing me to explore way too many kinks in one fic. hope you enjoy <3 [and let me know what you guys dressed up as today because i'm nosy]

* * * * * * *

“Kate, we’re going to be late!” You call out for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

You should’ve known better than to trust your girlfriend when she said she was merely putting the finishing touches on her costume. A costume that she had kept hidden from you since she bought it a few weeks ago.

The secrecy was stupid but Kate had been far too excited at the idea of surprising you with it for you to complain. She’s been getting a kick out of doing things to make your heart race and your cheeks flush lately. It’s not entirely new but she’s ramped things up ever since her alternate self paid you such an eye-opening visit.

Kate talks about it a lot more than you ever thought she would but it’s nice to see her so confident and secure in desires she’s never been able to express with anyone else. Desires that had somehow led her to convince you to go to some Halloween party being thrown by one of her, very rich, college friends.

The idea didn’t really interest you and yet here you were, all dressed up in some revealing devil costume your girlfriend had insisted on buying you. You had felt a little silly until your archer decided to express her love for your outfit by slamming you against the nearest wall and kissing you until your legs turned into jelly. 

Something that would have been very well received had she not left you with a desperate throbbing between your legs that she had no intention of relieving. 

Meeting her alternate self had been a blessing and a curse as far as you’re concerned. You love how quick she is to take control now but more often than not, her version of control is just her teasing you relentlessly until the two of you are so wound up that you end up having sex on the nearest surface.

It’s the best kind of torture and your girlfriend is incredible at dishing it out.

“Kate-”

“I know, I know!” Her voice reaches your ears first, followed by the sound of her footsteps approaching you. “Being fashionably late is a thing, by the way.”

“There’s nothing fashionable about being two hours late, Katie.”

“You’re no fun.” 

You open your mouth to reply but your response gets caught in your throat once your eyes fully take in what she’s wearing.

The all-black outfit isn’t incredibly scandalous, although the muscle-tee she’s wearing shows off all the subtle dips and curves of her arms that drive you wild, but the collar around her neck and the ridiculous cat ears she’s so proudly wearing on top of her head are enough to bring your attention back to ache between your legs.

She raises an eyebrow at you but your eyes are glued to the slightly crooked whiskers she drew on her cheeks. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

You really want to come up with something to shut her up but the playful glimmer in her eyes and the not-so-subtle smirk tugging at her lips renders you speechless. Kate, surprisingly, accepts your silence and instead of making fun of you again, she decides to simply close the space between your bodies and pull you into a kiss that somehow leaves your mind spinning even more than her outfit did. 

You’re in the middle of tangling your hands in her already disheveled hair when she suddenly pulls away from you. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.” 

She gives you no time to complain, she just grabs your hand and leads you out the door. It’s equal parts irritating and attractive. Much like the archer herself.

The two of you arrive at the party after a long subway ride, one that was spent with teasing touches and obvious glances. It’s clear what game your girlfriend is playing with you and yet you can’t stop yourself from getting riled up. You know she won’t offer you any relief but your mind fills with images of putting the overconfident archer in her place all the same.

Unfortunately, you don’t get a chance to even attempt some retaliation. The two of you manage to stick together for a full five minutes before some tall blonde you’ve never seen before is playfully shoving her and shouting something about a game of beer pong. 

Kate shoots you an apologetic look that borders a little too close into puppy-dog eye territory and you let her go without a fuzz, opting instead to grab a drink and wait for her to come back. 

And you do end up waiting.

Long enough for your easy acceptance to turn into actual frustration…frustration that’s pooled inside your underwear.

Your eyes haven’t stopped scanning around to find every dark corner and secluded bathroom in sight since Kate left your side hours ago. You’ve been able to find more than enough spots to work out your frustrations with your girlfriend but you still can’t find her.

You’re about ready to call it quits when you spot her out of the corner of your eye. It takes less than a second for you to reach her, hands reaching out for her waist and leading her forward into a dark coat closet you had found half an hour ago.

Her surprise is more than a little evident as you push her inside and practically pin her against the nearest wall. If your brain wasn’t filled with such intense desire, your eyes might have picked up on the different colored collar around Kate’s neck and the lack of crooked whiskers on her rosy cheeks.

None of that registers, though, and all you can think about is how good she looks and how desperate you are to feel her hands on your skin. 

There’s a small furrow in her brow that tells you she’s five seconds away from asking something that will ultimately distract you so you act faster than she does.

You lean forward in an instant, your lips claiming hers while your fingers dig into her waist. The fabric in the way doesn’t let her feel the full force of your grip but she arches her back into you anyway.

“You’re driving me crazy,” you mutter against her lips.

“So are you.” Kate finally gains control over her limbs and her hands start to caress your body, gentle fingers trailing up and down your back and barely brushing against your ass. “When did you even change into this outfit?”

You might’ve paid attention to her words had her lips not been trailing a path of kisses down your neck. 

Instead, you groan as the throbbing between your legs comes back with a vengeance. You need Kate and you need her now, her constant need to overpower you be damned.

She’s in the middle of sucking a mark onto your skin when your hands grab onto her shoulders and you start pushing her down. “Wha- oh.”

Her confusion lasts for a whole two seconds before she gets the message and lowers herself down onto her knees. The sight alone would be enough to make your heart race on a normal day but her easy acceptance of your unspoken command and the absolute devotion in her eyes while she stares up at you have your knees buckling under the weight of your own desire for her.

“No more teasing, babe,” you say, your tone somewhere between whiney and authoritative. “Just fuck me.”

You’re expecting her to put up some sort of fight but she seems to be just as desperate to feel you as you are. “Spread those legs for me, baby.” 

You do as she asks and she wastes no time in getting rid of the barriers that separate your drenched cunt from her mouth. Her lips instantly attach themselves to the skin that gets revealed to her eyes, trailing a path of kisses up your inner thigh.

It takes all your self-restraint not to buck your hips into her face. “Kate.”

She hums in response, apparently too busy to realize how fast your control is slipping. It’s not until her teeth graze your skin that you decide to put a stop to her teasing. You reach down, your fingers wrapping around the pretty collar around her neck and forcibly pulling her face toward your center.

The action surprises both of you but while you watch her with wide eyes, ready for her to fight against your expanding dominance, she moans against you, her eyes fluttering closed. 

And that’s all the encouragement you need to take the lead.

You tug on the collar again, the force in your movement showing her you’re in no mood for her continuous games. “Come on, Katie, put that mouth to good use.”

She’s the one with the wide eyes this time but makes no attempt to talk back. Instead, for once, she does exactly what she’s told. 

Her hands come up to part your folds enough for your wetness to be on full display for her and she slowly drags her tongue along your slit before flicking your clit.

You can’t tell if she’s trying to be gentle or if she’s set her mind back on teasing you until her lips wrap around your swollen bud and tongue laps at you as if you’re the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted.

“Oh, fuck.” You moan, your free hand grabbing onto the back of her head for support.

She responds with a sound of her own, one that resonates against your bundle of nerves and leaves your legs shaking like never before. Kate’s quick to notice your shakiness and her hands grip your hips to hold you up while her mouth and tongue continue their divine work on you.

“You taste so good, baby, fuck.”

Her voice comes out muffled but your hips instantly buck further into her mouth in response. You hate how much she teases you and yet you can’t deny how much better waiting makes everything feel.

Kate shifts a little and you waste no time in pulling her hair in a silent warning not to stop. She’s not selfish, merely a tease, and she accepts your command faster than you ever thought possible. The movements of her tongue speed up, flicking at your clit expertly every time and leaving you gasping for air.

“Kate, Kate-” You’re cut off as she rips another moan out from the depths of your chest. “Don’t stop.”

She knows what every gasp that leaves your lips means and she’s much too eager to watch you fall apart.

“Come on, y/n. Cum for me.”

She makes a sucking motion with her lips and you fall over the edge without a warning, only Kate’s name tumbling out of your mouth like the most sinful of prayers. Kate laps up every drop of your orgasm until you’re far too sensitive to handle her touch. 

You pull on her hair with a shaky hand and she gets the message, peppering your inner thighs with soft kisses before rising to her feet again. “Was the wait worth it?”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

You can’t resist the urge and you pull her into a quick kiss, loving the way she still can’t seem to get enough of you. You quickly pull away, much to her dismay, and give her the most innocent smile you can muster. “I’ll see you later, Katie.”

She doesn’t realize what you mean until your hand reaches for the door and you start stepping outside. “You can’t be serious.”

“I promise the wait will be worth it,” you tease before walking away.

You don’t hear her overdramatic groan or see her step out of the closet. But Kate does.

Your Kate.

The one that’s been looking for you for over an hour but instead found her double stumbling out of a dark coat closet.

She’s not an idiot and she knows exactly what the grin on her alternate self’s face means. So, she reacts without thinking. 

It takes her less than three seconds to cross the space between them, relishing the wide-eyed look the other Kate sends her way, before grabbing her shoulders and pushing her against the wall. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”

A dozen answers flicker through Kate’s mind but she spits out the worst one she comes up with. “More like who the fuck am I doing.”

Her eyes darken but she knows deep down the way she’s looking at her other self isn’t only filled with rage. “You’re an asshole.” 

Her nails dig into her alternate’s skin, drawing out a groan that sounds way too tantalizing to both of their ears. “Chill out, I didn’t realize she wasn’t my y/n until it was too late.”

“And when was that?” She questions despite knowing she won’t like the answer.

“When she was cumming on my tongue,” Kate replies with a proud smirk on her face.

“I take it back, you’re not an asshole, you’re a slut.” A tingle runs down her spine as she practically degrades herself. There’s no hesitation in her movements, no attempt to make herself sweeter, only pure, unrestrained, desire and a desperation she’s never felt before. 

“Go fuck yourself, I didn’t do it on purpose, alright? So, back off.”

“Fuck myself?” She responds, subconsciously stepping closer until their bodies are flush against each other. “You have no idea how much I’m considering it right now.”

“You’re kidd-”

She swallows the rest of her variant’s words as her lips press against hers in a messy kiss. There’s no awareness of the party going on around them, of the people that might see, of how wrong it all is, there’s none of that. She can’t think about anything besides how wet she is and how good her double looks in their ridiculous costume.

The kiss is fast and borders on desperate, her tongue slipping inside her double’s mouth and attempting to taste the remnants of your release left on lips that look exactly like hers. 

Her leg slips between her alternate’s thighs before she can stop it and the world stops spinning for a few seconds once she hears her moan. “Told you you were a slut.”

“You’re just insulting yourself, we’re the same person.” The response comes out muffled and breathless but filled with the same amounts of raw need.

“Maybe but we like it, don’t we?” She adds more pressure against the other Kate’s center while one of her hands grips her wrist and guides it between her own drenched thighs.

Kate sees it.

The moment her alternate’s control starts slipping, the cocky mask she’s worn so well until now fades and begins to reveal a need to submit that almost rivals her own. “Someone’s going to see us. How the hell are you going to explain this?”

“I don’t give a damn, let them see. Maybe we deserve to get caught for being so sick.”

It’s impossible to know where all of her words come from but the reaction they invoke in both of them is too good for her to get caught up in the details. She knows what she wants, what both of her want, and she’s in no position to deny it.

“Fuck,” she groans once her variant finally gathers the courage to toy with her wet cunt. “Just like that. You know how we like it, don’t you?”

She’s expecting another bratty response but it doesn’t come. All that comes is a groan and the telltale feeling of her other self grinding against her thigh.

Her variant’s fingers stroke her swollen clit for a few seconds before shifting down and slipping into her soaked entrance. The intrusion is unexpected but not unwelcome and she ends up leaning forward and resting her forehead against herself in search of some balance.

She's turned on beyond belief and yet her eyes continue searching for things that ultimately ramp up her desperation. Her hands join the subtle exploration of her own body, harshly groping her variant’s breasts and watching the way her face twists into pleasure.

“Shit, I’m gorgeous,” she mumbles.

“I know, right?” The response comes with a small, breathless, chuckle that leaves her grinning.

It's surreal how right everything feels. How good she feels in her own skin while watching another version of herself writhe and moan.

Her variant slips another finger inside her and her eyes flutter closed, walls clenching in an attempt to take more. “Keep going, we feel so good.”

“Yeah, we do, fuck.”

She knows herself well enough to know how close her double is to the edge. Her hands leave her tits to grip her hips, expertly pinning her against the wall and stopping her movements. “Hold it right there, bratty sluts don't get to cum.”

Her alternate self, the one who was once so commanding and sure of herself, whines. She whines and Kate swears the sound alone could make her cum.

“I need it.”

“Beg for it,” she says, her hips bucking down every time her variant’s fingers thrust in. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”

There's a pause before the words flow out of her. “I need you to fuck me, please. I need to cum.”

“Say our name.” Her voice is a breathless whisper as her orgasm builds up.

“Fuck, Kate. I need you, please.”

The entire world fades into nothing the second she hears those words. All she can manage is a gasp before she falls over the edge, her hips relentlessly rutting against her other self’s hand.

She doesn't know how long she spends basking in the bliss of her orgasm but once she comes back to herself, she feels the insistent kisses being littered all over her face. It's weird but cute and she wonders if that's how you feel every time she does it.

The thought fully forces her back into reality and she groans before taking a small step back. “I think someone deserves a reward. Let's go find y/n and give her a show.”

It takes them a while to find you in the crowd, although maybe it has more to do with the mind-shattering orgasm Kate just had and the borderline painful denial that's left Kate with a powerful ache between her legs.

When your archer finally spots you, she shares a knowing look and a subtle smile with her variant before they're both grabbing onto you and pushing you into the first bathroom they can find.

The action startles you until you realize the hands on you belong to your girlfriend…two of them. You're pushed against the sink and your heart pounds in your chest as your eyes take in both archers.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” Kate’s variant asks.

The different colored collar on her neck gives her away now they're standing together and you almost feel stupid for not realizing.

Your girlfriend seems to read your mind and she steps forward, her hands landing on your waist. “What's wrong, baby? Did you not realize it wasn't me you were whoring yourself out for?”

The words steal the remaining breath from your lungs. Kate’s, your Kate’s, dominant attitude is something you can't get enough of but you're still pissed at her for teasing you all day. Especially now that you've learned it wasn't even her that made you cum earlier.

“Careful, Katie.” Your hand reaches for her collar, tugging on it enough to be rewarded by the hitch in her breath. “You're still on thin ice.”

The impatience and need Kate’s other self is struggling with is obvious to you and it only becomes more clear once she steps forward too, pushing her body against you and seeking out your neck with her lips. “What about me?”

You hum, pretending to think about it. “You're fine, Kate. You're a good girl, aren't you?”

The whine your words draw out of her is enough of a response and your eyes flutter closed while they both caress your body.

“Why am I in trouble when you're the one who fucked another version of me?” Kate’s hands slip up your body as she speaks, her movements blurring together with those of her double.

“So did you.”

The two pairs of hands on you stutter in their movements and you know you've got them right where you want them.

You don't give either of them a second to respond. Instead, you take the opportunity to rearrange them, pushing your archer onto her knees and pulling her variant against your body.

Kate’s eyes meet yours, offering a moment of calm amongst all the raging emotions that fill the room. “You gonna put me in my place, baby?”

“Please stop talking,” her alternate self begs.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sound, your arms wrapping around her middle and pulling her impossibly closer. You've heard your girlfriend beg before but this is different. This is you stripping away all her control and letting her enjoy the feeling of submitting.

And it's hot as hell.

“Poor Kate, we left you desperate for more, didn't we, baby? Is that why you came crawling back to us?”

She nods furiously, her hips bucking against the air while your hands slip under the fabric of her shirt. You take in the sight for a few more moments before looking back toward your kneeling girlfriend and giving her a small nod of your own.

Kate wastes no time in removing the obstacles in her way, letting out a low groan once she takes in her alternate self’s obvious arousal. You wait for the teasing comment that doesn't come now that she's left you in control of both of them.

“Get to it, baby.”

Your girlfriend obeys immediately. She attaches her lips to her variant’s leaking cunt and you watch the way they both tremble with desire.

It's the most heavenly sight you'll ever get to see.

Your hands slide up to play with Kate’s bra-covered breasts while your girlfriend eats her out like her life depends on it.

You can't stop yourself from leaning forward and pressing feather-light kisses against her neck, loving the way she instantly tilts her head back and sinks into you. “Fuck, please.”

“Please, what?” You murmur, missing the two fingers your archer slips inside her alternate.

You hear her gasp and feel the frantic movement of her lower half as she grinds against your girlfriend’s face. “Please…please, can I cum?”

A torturous silence hangs in the air for a few moments before you give in and let her have what she wants.

“Go ahead, baby, be a good girl and cum for us.”

You're sure you've never heard a more delicious sound than the loud cry that leaves her parted lips. You're too busy kissing every inch of skin you get your lips on to watch the way your girlfriend swallows every drop of her other self’s release.

A release so intense that it leaves all three of you shaking.

Kate fucks her through her orgasm, clearly addicted to the way her fingers keep getting swallowed up by her other self’s cunt.

You let her do what she wants until her variant can't take it anymore.

“Please, I can't-”

Despite her words, you feel her body shudder as she tumbles into another orgasm.

“Come on, Katie.” You reach down to pull your reluctant archer away. “Let her breathe.”

“You're no fun,” she mumbles before rising to her feet.

“Say that again and see what happens,” you warn her with a grin.

She huffs before attaching herself to your free shoulder, nuzzling against you. “I think the power’s gone to your head.”

“I think you both like it.”

Neither of them replies but you don't need words to know you're right. The way they cling to you is enough.

“Can we go home?” Kate’s variant finally speaks up, her voice hoarse. “I can't feel my legs.”

You chuckle and kiss her cheek. “Sure. But we're not done.”

The three of you stumble out of the bathroom together a few minutes later, giggling and trying to fix your disheveled hair. It's a strange situation but you feel like the luckiest person on Earth with your two girls by your side.

[androgynealienfemme]

"When I was eleven or twelve years old, I used to shop in the boy's department at Bloomingdale's, just as the other prepubescent private school girls did. That was where you could purchase polo shirts, Shetland sweaters, and all the other socially acceptable androgynous clothing for our age group and gender. They fit and suited me just fine, but what would have suited me even better was nothing other than an actual suit: the three piece variety mad of thin-wale, beige corduroy with brown simulated leather buttons.

I knew exactly where they hung in the boys' department, and I paid them a visit each time I was in the vicinity. It's funny, but though I can't remember at the time ever seeing a girl or woman in one of these suits, that did not hinder my imagination of what that would look like. Neither did the shortage of real life models ever lead to any questions about why exactly there was one. Somehow I had simply gotten it into my head that such a sight would be wonderful. And, though once again I felt no need to ponder precisely how I knew this, clearly, the most appropriate person to wear such a suit would be me.

Picturing myself in the suit, I was suddenly a lot taller and older and stunningly sophisticated,. The suit seemed to have the almost magical power to make me strong, wise, just. The vision of myself naturally included physical as well as mental capabilities well beyond those of an eleven-or twelve-year-old, but who was I to disbelieve the suit's mystique?

I never tried one on. Although the desire to own one felt perfectly natural to me, it had been met with a mixture of mocking laughter and horror by my mother. Something about her response definitely said, "No." and, "Tell no one." So the suits, like forbidden fruit, remained there untouched by me for years, moved at times from one corner of the department to another, but always just out of reach of my young body's many secret yearnings.

Roughly fourteen years later, as I was walking in the rain, I suddenly realized I was butch. Everything made sense. My butchness came as much more of a surprise to me than my lesbianism, which, despite some years of procrastination on my part as to actually adopting it as a daily lifestyle, I always knew and comfortably accepted.

The way I ever so swaggered and stomped my clunky boots when I walked, and felt sort of proud of it, now made sense. The way I firmly held the umbrella over the woman I love and protected her from the rain as I guided her down the Brooklyn street took on new clarity. The freedom and invincibleness I feel after a close haircut I better understood. The pleasure and vanity I indulge in when I stretch my muscles to lift something that looks heavier than I can manage all at once held new meaning. The childlike glee I feel every time I discover something needing to be fixed in the house and the puffed=up self-importance that fills me each time I fix it had new significance for me. Even my tremendous need for control could now be explained. And my assertive overtures of passion in the dark where I gently bur firmly demand submission most of all seemed to fit.

I gripped the handle of the umbrella tighter and walked along with, I'm sure, the stupidest grin on my face, flashing the woman I love periodic glances of affection as she continued to talk happily, oblivious to the volcano that had just erupted beside her. There, in the rain, as a flood of feelings and enlightenment washed my insides, I had one final glimmer of insight. I at last understood that without ever actually buying the three-piece suit made of thin-wale, beige corduroy, with the brown, simulated leather buttons, I had been wearing one all along."

-"Sweet Suit Suite" Audrey Grifel, The Persistent Desire, (Edited by Joan Nestle (1992)