#only vague but definitely hinted at

[findafight]

WAIT OKAY I just read your supernatural st au and AHHHHH now I need that one too holy shit token human Steve!! Token human Steve!!!

Even here everyone’s just like I love him he’s a neat little guy he’s literally thrown himself around and been mortally wounded for the party when he’s literally the only human and everyone’s just like - him!!!! Selkie Robin and how they find out they’re soulmates!! Aaahh!!!! And that final line…… I am obsessed putting in my little request for a full fic when you can, pretty please!!!

Anon you're spoiling meeeee I love you I love hearing from people who like my writing/ideas!! Original post

This one is definitely something that has high potential of me actually writing too. Because like, yeah. The Party is Marge Simpson "I just think they're neat" potato meme about Steve. He's so shaped.

This has a readmore because it's actually got two different mini scenes in it. Enjoy~~~ (also note I included a bit of another non kinky kinkmeme prompt about supernatural baby sitter Steve in this!)

I imagine a scene where Dustin, early fall of '85, is complaining to Lucas and Mike about another failed attempt to get Steve Officially (as he can't actually be Pack unless he KNOWS he's pack, ya feel? Like he IS their pack but also he doesn't know so not really but yes but no...) In their pack at lunch, and Eddie, who as mentioned is a vampire that feeds off energy and is therefore The Most Dramatic Bitch Ever, overhears and is like

"Steve? Steve Harrington is part of your Pack??"

And Dustin goes "well he would if he stopped being DENSE about it!!! We've been trying to tell him-"

"you've been trying to tell him" says Mike.

"-since before Christmas last year! But he keeps thinking we're-"

"you're-"

"-talking about DnD!!"

Eddie is just a little shocked his newest sheepies have been trying for nine months to tell Steve, King Steve, of all people, that his preppy human ass is such a firm part of their Pack that they haven't given up on telling him.

Lucas pipes up. "To be fair to Steve, he was concussed before Christmas last year, and then again this summer."

Dustin shakes his head. "Need to get the guy a helmet. Protect the braincells he has left."

"did he have any to begin with?"

"oh, can it, Mike." Lucas says. "At least he knows about Robin, now. So maybe you should ask her for help. He believed her!"

Ohhh? Eddie was curious, because he had heard certain...rumours, about a Robin and her possible tie to Steve Harrington.

Dustin scoffs. "Okay, yeah, but she's his literal actual soulmate who he still refuses to date, and she transformed in front of him. But I don't want to freak him out. A seal is one thing, a wolf is another!"

"Dustin, you're basically a dachshund."

"fuck right off"

Eddie waves his hands in front of them. "Wait wait wait. Are you talking about Robin Buckley? The selkie in the marching band with Gareth?" The sheepies nod. "You're saying Steve Harrington, former captain of laundry basket sport-"

"actually pretty sure he wasn't ever basketball captain, just swim team-"

"-former Head Jock, is dorky little Robin Buckley's soulmate? Like full on, Selkie coat magic woo woo, Soulmate?"

They all nod, but it's Lucas who speaks. "Yeah. They worked together over the summer. Became, like, inseparable. She told him in August sometime I think."

Eddie does not know how to process that.

-----

ALSO!!!

I imagine Steves parents sitting him down, after his nineteenth birthday (which I headcanon as April first) and very carefully explaining to him that Monsters Are Real.

And Steve sitting there, nearly eight months into knowing that, trying to pretend he doesn't. Pretending that since Robin told him she was a Selkie and the Party told him about being werewolves, he'd sort of, kind of, become any supernatural beings' go to babysitter. Sort of.

It started with a litter of pups he stumbled across in the woods who seemed really friendly for being abandoned in the woods and welcomed the water he brought them and the ear scritches he gave, that he didn't even realize were werewolf children until a couple came crashing through the trees frantically and stopped to watch as he helped a puppy get a leaf off its paw. And the pups are waggled over to the woman and the man looked at Steve with a twitchy nose and then Steve realized they were scenting him because ohhhh. Werewolves.

And Steve went "uh. I think they forgot how to change back? Good luck?" And left. Because what else was he going to do?

So it became a thing. Little magical creatures were told that if all else fails, Steve Harrington will make sure you're safe and looked after until your parents could get to them. He amassed a Rolodex of the contact info near-human folk of Hawkins, and a reputation for being a damn good babysitter. And also somehow having a gaggle of kids around him whenever he went to the park.

So his parents go on and on about things Steve already knows about and he's wondering why they're telling him all of it and also how they know and then they mention how these things are dangerous. How they must be removed. Destroyed. Killed.

Because that's what Harringtons do, they hunt monsters in the night and keep the good, normal, human folks of america safe.

And Steve, who knows that there are supernatural creatures in Hawkins; who knows what actual monsters in Hawkins look like and has hit them with a spiked bat and an axe; who can't go three blocks before some pup or fae or gnome or whatever decides to follow him like a duckling; who little lost kids of all shapes and sizes flock to in order to get back home; sits there and listens as his parents tell him how to kill them. How to salt and burn the remains.

He grips the edge of the table with white knuckles and purposefully evens his breath. He will not betray The Party, or Robin, or any of the families who have found a safe haven in Hawkins to live their lives peacefully. And isn't it ironic, that the place the Harringtons supposedly live, the place they are barely in because of legitimate business and the family business takes them across the country, is a hotbed for supernatural activity. It happened right under their noses, and their only son and heir was at the centre of it. The Human in a Pack of werewolves, platonic soulmate to a Selkie, potential.... something to a vampire, babysitter of all the little creatures of the county.

So Steve tries to make a plan. He can't let his parents know that Hawkins is anything but a quiet human town, but he can't let them keep hurting innocents either. It's either a long con of taking up his family mantle and changing things from inside, manipulating the system like he did in highschool to his whims, or dismantling it loudly and more dramatically which could back fire.

Either way, as soon as his parents leave again (for human related business), he takes the family Grimoire, his birthright, and calls an All Party Meeting.

He slams the tome onto the table and says, simply,

"we've got a problem"

[aziraphale-protection-squad]

things to give Aziraphale post-s2:

pastry of choice

warm beverage of choice

weighted blanket and/or purring cat for comfort

big hugs (with his consent)

kissies on his cheek (with his consent)

a little speech about how important consent is and how nobody not even the person closest to him has the right to touch him in any way at any time without his consent

head pats (with his consent)

as much personal space as he needs / desires

and most importantly:

• love, patience, and respect (:

[gurorori]

i wona write

[boomerang109]

obsessed with this interaction i had with my boss

my boss, joking about the bowl of fake sausage i left on his desk without telling him: so you made that prop? at first, i thought you were trying to feed me

me, internally: omg that’s such a compliment that it’s realistic enough that i tricked him into thinking it was real

me, internally, bad at jokes: HOLY SHIT WHAT IF HE TRIED TO EAT IT

me, out loud: play-doh—fun to play with, not to eat

[da-riya]

As punishment for staying up late I got to see a shit take, love it

[ghostbsuter]

Batclan and Catband (part 1)

> next part

.・゜-: ✧ :-

"I can't believe this." Are the first words out of his mouth once he arrives at their usual breakfast spot.

Elle is still sleeping, head laying on his shoulder and dozing.

Selina, obviously amused, cradles her coffee cup instead of answering.

"Marrying behind my back!" Danny continues, stopping for a moment to give her a look. "Am I invited?"

"Kitten, of course you are." She laughs, making grabby hands to the toddler.

Grumbling, he hands the little star over, leaning back into his seat now with the weight gone.

His mother figure, now with toddler in arms, positively purrs at having her grandchild.

"You do realise you will have to meet your new siblings?"

"Shit. Does Bruce even know I exist??"

At the vague answer and shrug, Danny curses once more.

They have their breakfast in peace after, with lots of questioning and coos once Elle woke up. In the end, Danny leaves with a few phone numbers and a new goal.

He gets to give THE Bruce Wayne the shovel talk.

—

Unknown Number joined the Chat

Danny: hey

So

Who wants to twll the big ol' bat hes a grandpa now

Multiple people are typing. . .

Tim: Whomst the hell

Steph: what

WHAT

Danny: >;)

Tim: what does that mean

—

Anticipation rang high as dinner time rolled around

Bruce had no idea what was going on.

The confusion only grew when Alfred looked at him with a certain twinkle, the one where he knows of something.

In fact, he is only slightly baffled when his fiance strolls in with a teen in arms.

Of course he picked up the signs, the hints and vague wording. Selina wasn't very much hiding the toddler toys or the fact she had a room always closed, and when asked, gave the strangest words and explained nothing after.

At least he now meets one of two mysteries.

"Bruce Wayne," the teen says, grin forming. "I'm gonna give you the biggest and best shovel talk in the world."

It broke the ice and some of his kids arr cackling, definitely gleeful.

Damn, selina's kid is gonna fit right in.

[tojipie]

adah imagine prisoner!toji getting eaten up by his own thoughts one night in his cell. because how can this be satisfying for you? having quick sex once every two months? a girl like you deserves so much better. so he brings it up one time during the visits, and you see how hard it is for him, but still, through gritted teeth he reassures you he wouldn’t blame you for indulging in someone else every once in a while. JUST THE ANGST!! and reader of course being like … what the fuck are you talking ab i jerk off to your pictures?

prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: hurt/comfort, angst

“and then turns out there actually was a fucking rat in his cell,” your boyfriend wheezes, his booming laughs marking the end of the story he’d been telling you for the past half hour.

the visiting hall is bustling today, packed to the brim with the wives, partners, and kids of the state’s incarcerated, all making the drive up right before new years.

you notice the sudden silence as your shared laughs die down, bemused at the inmate’s choice to not keep the conversation going.

“you okay?” you ask, reaching across the table to intertwine your fingers.

except toji doesn’t squeeze your hand like he always does, letting the appendage lay limp in yours.the older man opens his mouth to say something, looking around the busy room with a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.

“do you miss.. how we used to be?” he asks, voice sounding detached.

something sour stirs in the pit of your stomach at the way he’s acting. if the sudden change in ambiance didn’t give you whiplash, his vague question definitely did the job.

“i mean, of course i do,” you laugh nervously, rubbing a thumb softly over his knuckles. the inmate squeezes back this time, quelling the storm of anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“the sex i mean,” he explains, looking up from the floor to speak to you head on. “do you feel.. deprived? are your needs getting met?”

your thumb stills for just a moment as you think it over, though you doubt he even notices. the truth was yes, going from getting fucked every day to getting fucked every 6 or 7 weeks wasn’t exactly ideal. but what else were you two supposed to do? the man was serving a 7 year sentence for christ’s sake.

toji takes your momentary silence as an answer, sitting up straighter before speaking once more.

“i’m just saying if you ever found a man to fill in the gaps then i’d be open to it,” he explains. you notice a hint of unsureness behind his stone facade, catching onto the way his hand begins to fiddle with yours. what was he playing at?

“you’re saying you want me to cheat on you?” you ask, exasperated. where was this even coming from?

“god, fuck,” he sighs frustratedly, running both hands over his face slowly.

“i can’t give you what you need, can’t— not like how we used to,” his voice tapers off at the end like he’s scared to upset you. “shiu’s had a crush on you for years, i’d know he’d take good care of you.”

you step back from the table to gather yourself, pacing in front of the inmate like a woman gone mad. you’re grateful the constant circulation of inmates and visitors in the room is drawing attention away from you, otherwise an officer probably would have come over by now.

you couldn’t even believe what toji was offering to you. seeking out other men— his business partners—to “fill in the gaps”? when the love of your life was only a car drive away? fat fucking chance.

you stalk over to his side of the table, pointing an accusatory finger to his face.

“if you ever..” you pause, blinking away tears, “think that i’d give up on you just because we don’t have sex as often as we did then you’d be fucking crazy.”

you see him audibly flinch when your voice cracks, the weight of your emotions bringing him literal pain. toji’s eyes have gone wide, realizing the implications of his offer.

“i’m sorry baby, fuck, i’m sorry,” he whispers, pulling your face into the curve of his neck despite the harsh restrictions on touch set during visits. you silently thank the bustling crowd again for shielding the two of you, clutching at each other so deeply you think you might just meld into him.

“don’t want anybody but you,” you say with finality, pressing soft kisses to his pulse.

“i know sweetheart, i hear ya.”

you stay like that for the rest of your visit, breathing in each other’s warmth as calloused hands rubs circles into your back. neither of you say anything, not needing to when both do you knew you’d always find a way to make it work.

taglist 🏷️ <3

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[petermorwood]

Is "Uh, nope" a frequent US response to lamb?

Or is US lamb somehow different?

This is just a vaguely mystified response to some comments here.

I'm guessing the "G-word" is gamey. I've smelt gamey meat, I don't like it, and Irish lamb definitely isn't that. Also, most people I know don't need to screw up their courage before cooking or eating it.

Mutton, mature sheep-meat, has - or so I've been told, because I've never found it in any local butcher - a much fuller flavour, still not gamey, but more ... robust, pronounced, emphatic, choose your descriptor. It is, after all, a more mature meat.

For terminology reference (though this may not be current any more), "lamb" is up to one year old, "hogget" - remember the farmer's name in "Babe"? - is up to two years old, and "mutton" is over two years.

*****

As I said, I haven't seen mutton anywhere, and haven't HEARD of hogget.

This might be, as I hinted, because terminology has been simplified and all meat from sheep is now "lamb" - and that may answer my own question. Sometimes US lamb has a fuller flavour than, say, Wicklow lamb in Ireland, because sometimes US lamb is hogget or mutton instead.

If so, it restores a possible original meaning to "mutton dressed as lamb". That's now best known as "an older woman dressed inappropriately young", and though the meaning has been around for a long time (this Rowlandson print is dated 1810)...

..."dressing" is also the term for preparing meat for sale.

And THAT makes me wonder if the critical phrase goes beyond fashion into the fine old tradition of adulterating food, and wily butchers transforming elderly sheep into the semblance of younger lamb then charging undiscerning customers accordingly.

I don't know how they might have done it, but if they could then they would. The ways in which 18th-19th century foods were fiddled with is amazing, and more than a bit Yuck.

Or in this case, Ew.

Comments, corrections, criticisms and all the rest are cordially invited.

:->

*****

Side-note; in keeping with the way nicknames get attached to surnames - "Chalky" White, "Dusty" Miller etc. - anyone called Curry usually ended up as "Mutton".

Two brothers at my school had this happen; Tom Curry, the older one, had been "Mutton" for a couple of years, and when his kid brother Will started school he became, of course, "Lamb".

Oh, how we laffed...

*****

ETA: @bellyoftheblast just messaged me this:

It turns out, and I only learned this very recently (I think it's in Hannah Glasse) that "dressed" used to mean "cooked" rather than "prepared for sale". Which would mean "mutton dressed as lamb" would be fast-cooked and thus greasy, unpleasantly tough and decidedly stringy. (Meanwhile I'll never waste good lamb on stew again now that I have a source for mutton -- MUCH better flavour for slow cooking).

Thanks for this snippet! We've got the Prospect Books facsimile of Hannah Glasse 1st ed, so I pulled it down, blew off the dust - it's been a while - and yes indeed, I found the following recipes in just four successive pages:

"To dreſs a Leg of Mutton à la Royale",

"To dreſs a Leg of Mutton to eat like Veniſon",

"To dreſs Mutton the Turkiſh Way"

"To dreſs Veal à la Bourgoiſe"

Mutton dressed (or dreſsed) as Lamb doesn't get mentioned, probably because Mistress Glasse knew better, though that business of Mutton to eat (taste) like Venison is interesting.

It involves cutting the leg of mutton "in the shape of a Haunch of Veniſon" then steeping it in the sheep's blood "for five or six Hours" before wrapping it in layers of buttered paper and roasting it, basted frequently with butter or beef dripping.

Not quite mutton as lamb, but still mutton disguised as something more expensive...

[yesimwriting]

Pulling Away

A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay

Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.

----

He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 

The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 

You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 

Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.

“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 

Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 

The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 

When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 

Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 

The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 

You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 

A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.

You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 

It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.

“Since when do you sleep in there?”

His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.

It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 

His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.

The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 

You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 

He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 

The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”

His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 

Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 

He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 

There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 

The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 

“You’re pullin’ away.” 

The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 

Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 

He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 

You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 

“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 

“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 

“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 

Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 

Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 

And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 

“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 

Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.

Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 

“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 

His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 

Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 

But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 

“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 

His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”

You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 

“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 

Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 

For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 

The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 

“Doesn’t matter?” 

He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 

It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 

Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 

His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 

It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 

The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 

It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 

Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 

“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 

His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 

“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 

His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 

You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 

He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 

Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 

“You going to say ‘please’?” 

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 

With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 

God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 

He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 

“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 

“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 

Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 

You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 

He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 

His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 

“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 

You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 

“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 

Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.

“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 

The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 

He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”

The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 

Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 

[theemporium]

💰with Sirius??? He would absolutely just spoil spoil spoil reader with everything. Like that trend with dogs where the owners buy everyone the dog sniffs, he’d be following reader and buying anything she even vaguely grazes. She def hates it and feels bad everytime but he’s like “let my family’s name do one good thing for me and let me spend it all on you”

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Sirius, put it down.”

“But you want it.”

“No, I don’t—”

“Love, I saw you staring at it for the last five minutes,” he countered, almost looking far too smug for your liking. 

“Just because I look at something doesn’t mean you have to buy it for me,” you snapped back at him, trying to fight the urge to glance down at all the bags of stuff he had bought you during your trip through Diagon Alley so far. The pile was only getting bigger and it was starting to make you feel nauseous. 

“But I want to buy it for you,” Sirius said with an easy smile on his face. “Would you really stop my happiness and wants because of your own selfishness, love?”

You shot him a look.

“In fact, this might be the only thing that brings me joy,” he continued as he stepped over the bags and reached for you. “This might be the only source of happiness in my sad, sad life.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous, Sirius Black.”

“No, I am just a man from a tragically rich family who wants to use his money to spoil his girl instead of buying those atrociously ugly dressing robes my mother keeps hinting at,” Sirius retorted, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the mere mention of the robes. “I saw Lucius in them the other day. It looked like a Hippogriff threw up on him.”

This time you let out a full laugh, boisterous and bellyful and definitely out of place in the high-end jewellers you were both currently standing in.

“Hm, although that laugh is a close second in making me happy,” Sirius murmured with a fond smile on his face.

“You do this every time,” you complained as your hands fisted the material of his shirt, fingers smoothing over the buttons. “You butter me up so I give in and let you buy me stuff.”

“It’s a strategy,” Sirius said proudly. “And it works.”

“You need to stop it before you waste all your money on me,” you told him with a shake of your head.

“It would never be a waste if it was on you, love,” Sirius told you, though his words were thick with emotion and sincerity as he cupped your face in his hands. “I want to give you everything you deserve.” 

“But all I want is you,” you countered. “You are more than enough for me, Sirius. I don’t need you to flash or flaunt your money on me.”

“Yeah, but I like seeing the way you try to hide that smile of yours whenever you wear something I bought you,” Sirius said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “And I think that little diamond thing would look gorgeous on you.”

“It’s called a choker,” you laughed. 

“I thought that was my job,” Sirius grinned back at you.

“Sirius!”

“What?! I am being serious!”

.

[cherrys-side-bitch]

The Great 7 AU

Note: This is only general headcanons, I'm definitely writing more for this AU later

Since a young age, Yuu has had their parents (mostly Jafar and Grimhilde) teaching them how to act appropriately while also being taught fighting and magic. So, with that, Yuu would know how to keep a cool head in almost any situation, though it may be hard to keep a straight face with some of the seven’s comments.

Even though they have the power of the seven, they decide to play the role of the “magicless” prefect. I headcanon that, similarly to the actual game, the mirror said that Yuu didn't have magic since Yuu, by default, is just a random human and can't use magic without the seven’s aid. Though the mirror possibly hinted at The Great Seven being present, it was likely vague and quickly forgotten due to the absurdity of the situation.

Despite only arriving in this world from another, they’re incredibly knowledgeable about magic, potions, and even the history of this world. It's almost suspicious to the other students that some begin to think that their story of being from another world might be a lie even though they insist it isn't. Admittedly, though Yuu knows the history, they are still clueless about the laws and places of this word. Don't let them play geoguessr. They might die. Either that, or they’ll cry, then you have the Great 7 to deal with.

On the topic of the Great Seven, they don't have physical forms, only visible to Yuu and possibly other ghosts (Sam also probably knows due to the whole “friends on the other side” thing, but who knows). However, I believe they can still influence the world around Yuu through magic, even if only a little. An example may be that Yuu fell asleep on the couch after one of their nightly strolls with Malleus, and Maleficent draped a blanket over Yuu to keep them warm. Another is if Yuu is getting harassed by one of NRC’s bullies, one of the 7 pulls some horror movie shit and breaks the lights or starts throwing things: that or one of Maleficent's iconic storms.

Adding to what I said earlier about them acting, the idea of Great 7! Yuu snapping is terrifying. Even if they don't use magic or attack someone, it's still scary seeing that. The calm and collected persona falling, and you get to see their genuine emotions? Terrifying.

Just your average, cute, little “magicless” human acting all prim and proper, then displaying magical prowess that could surpass Malleus.

If I were those side character students, I’d leave, tbh.

┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚　　 ҉　　⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉

Also, since you asked me to tag you, @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer 🥲

[ozzgin]

heya...!!!! Sweetypie 🍓🥧🧁.... It's me again, i want to make a request again...if you don't mind 😃.

Can you make a request regarding creepypasta with ticci tobby and eyelash Jack .Previous request for a creepypasta

Most certainly! Though my drafts are a mess so I’m no longer sure what the previous request refers to. ;-; Hopefully this is close to what you pictured.

Yandere! Creepypasta x Reader

Featuring Ticci-Toby and Eyeless Jack and a clueless reader that caught their attention. TW: dubious consent, gore and violence

Ticci-Toby

Oh, he really can’t explain it but you’ve tied his heart into a knot. His chest is tight and it’s almost as if his lungs struggle to get enough oxygen. You seem kind and he can’t help but daydream that he’s the subject to your friendly gestures. He feels like a spoiled child, drinking up every drop of affection, tipsy with delight. If only those doll eyes of yours looked at him.

He’s hesitant to approach you because his moods are so unpredictable. He’d love to shower you in adoration and spend the rest of his life protecting you from any threats. Then comes his rage and he’s tempted to scratch your face off for smiling to anyone else but him. Why are you trying so hard for other people? No one appreciates you as much as he does, (Y/N). Is his attention not enough? Does he need to hold your gaze in by force?

Suffice to say that Ticci-Toby can be extremely jealous and possessive well before you’re even aware of his existence. Unlike Eyeless Jack, however, he is very open about his displays of love and doesn’t wait too long to introduce himself. His impulsive desires take over any consideration he’s had regarding your safety in front of his mood swings. He can worry about it when it actually happens. Now matter the anger, he’d never hurt his darling, would he? It’s the others that will have to pay.

If he’s feeling particularly hyperactive he will begin parroting his reasons for your fated romance and why you were meant to be. If anxiety equates in, the narrations turn into regurgitated, repetitive questions stemming out of insecurity. Are you really certain you haven’t gotten tired of him? Truly, without a doubt? Perhaps you were thinking of leaving him? The interrogations culminate in desperate begging for reassurance. Please let him know you’ll never, ever abandon him. Otherwise he will have to guarantee it himself one way or another.

Eyeless Jack

You happened to be the next victim on his list. The creature stood above your sleeping form in absolute silence. You barely shuffled at the sudden coldness from the edge of the scalpel coming into contact with your abdomen. The blade, however, remained still on the surface. The hollow sockets were fixated on your unconscious face, seemingly deep in consideration.

He can’t quite pinpoint a reasoning to it, but your presence has caught his interest. On the bright side, you get to keep your kidney. The only caveat is that you now have a rather dedicated admirer with a less orthodox approach to his growing crush.

Jack primarily enjoys watching you from afar and leaves only vague hints of his presence. Which, of course, depends on your definition of vague. At first you didn’t make the connection between the people wronging you in your daily life and the mysterious packages you’d receive in the mail containing frozen raw organs. You had assumed some neighbor might’ve gotten some subscription for their dog and messed up the address. As the news piled up, often involving these particular people as abruptly missing, your suspicions increased. Especially after noticing that none of your neighbors seem to have pets. And then the love notes started and you nearly threw up next to your mailbox.

Jack is fidgeting like a schoolgirl upon seeing your reaction to his confessions. Could you be that overwhelmed by his love? It wasn’t a big deal, really. He’s just doing what he’s best at. He’s just glad to ease your life by erasing the factors that upset you. You don’t have to worry about returning his favors. Humans come with two kidneys for a reason, after all. They were made for sharing.

Now that he’s gotten his answer, he can confidently approach you. He can’t wait to get his claws on you. You look stunning from a distance, too, but nothing compares to actually feeling you. Hearing your whimpers of shy protest, sensing the increased pulse tumultuously running through your veins, observing your pupils contract in mild…fear? No, most likely just excitement. His spiraling black eyes (or rather, lack of) devour your presence with anatomical curiosity. If he’s careful enough, he might even play with you a little. He’ll be extra careful with his darling.

[songmingisthighs]

Pretty Cute

group : ateez

pairing : yunho × reader

genre : smut

word count : 3.4 k

warning : mdni, explicit smut, yunho and (y/n)'s kind of a perv, mutual pining, cnc ((y/n)'s a horny drunk), somnophilia, sex (not piv; fingering), slight hint of size kink?

a/n : happy late LATE yuyu day &lt;3 i wrote this impulsively and i was gonna post it on yunho's birthday but things got in the way and suddenly it felt weird writing smut in my state. but hey, i hope this makes up for my absence!

buy me coffee ?

Both you and Yunho came home giggling through the door, courtesy of the alcohol you both drank earlier. Your steps were wobbly and staggered as you tried walking into your apartment with your best friend in tow, trying to catch up with you. Seeing this, Yunho giggled and pulled you by your shoulders so you could lean on him slightly as you both managed to take your shoes off sagely and proceed further into the apartment. "Okay, we gotta be careful because you're stumbling, mumbling, grumbling, tumbling, schcumbling..." Yunho's giggle made you giggle as well, thinking that he sounded both ridiculous and absolutely hilarious for some reason. But you just let him stick by you because you love his presence and even more so when you were drunk.

It had been a custom for Yunho to be very touchy with you both in public and in private as he was your teddy retriever and you were his... (y/n). Even earlier at the bar, you enjoyed the feeling of him with a hand behind you resting on the bar as his body towered over you, covering you from most of the people at the club. You sipped your vodka cranberry happily which gave you warmth from the inside while he provided you with warmth from the outside, your exposed legs didn't feel as exposed even after Wooyoung made a vaguely inappropriate comment about them. He might be one of your best friends but he was still a boneheaded idiot that you love so much.

People thought that it was weird how touchy and open you were to each other, some even thinking that you both had dated. Fact is, you wouldn't deny him if he asked you out, but you didn't know if he felt that way about you. Sure, he was nice to you, but so was he to everyone else. What makes you so special? Other than the occasional (very freaking often) compliments and remarks about how he would be so lucky if he was able to call you his wherever you show him your outfits or your accomplishments, you were doubtful that he would see you in a romantic way.

Plopping onto the couch, you both rested at each end with your legs propped on his lap and his hands resting on your shin. "God, we over did it tonight," the moan you let out turned into a soft hum when you felt his hands slowly caressing the skin under his touch as he chuckled, "Speak for yourself, I can still take a couple more beers in me," he teased. You narrowed your eyes at him in mock judgment, "Sure, Giggly Giggleson, you DEFINITELY didn't drink too much even when you started flirting with me." Yunho bit his bottom lip at the mention of him flirting with you earlier, giddy that you actually noticed that he was indeed flirting and wasn't just being friendly as he intended. "How can I not when you were sitting there looking so devastatingly beautiful and delicious," his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes couldn't help but focus on its movement, sure that his bottom lip was not the only wet lip at that moment in time. But you shook your head slightly to prevent yourself from saying something stupid like blurting out how much you want his tongue shoved down your throat. To mask your inner turmoil, you rolled your eyes and snap your leg at him in mock annoyance to which he just chuckled.

The movement you made shifted the position of your mini skirt, not realizing that it had ridden up slightly. Thankfully, Yunho was gentlemanly enough to pull it back to its original position and length, of course after battling his inner urge to just pull it further up and expose your panties to him that he know for sure would be very adorable. "You're wearing a short skirt, (y/n), you gotta be careful," he pointed out, putting his hands back to where they were so his mind wouldn't focus on what was under the skirt. You rolled your eyes and moved to straddle his lap, surprising Yunho but his hands somehow found purchase on your hips in a secured grip. "There's no one here but you, Yunnie," when you draped your hands on his shoulders, Yunho was sure that you could feel his erection forming and was just screwing with him. But in case you didn't, he wanted to play it safe. "Which is even more reason why you need to be careful," Yunho leaned to peck you on the nose which caused warmth to bloom in your chest and a rosy tint to spread to your cheeks from the spot where Yunho planted his lips on. "And why is that?" You asked, eyes glimmering with slight hope, "Because you're my best friend and you're so irresistable in this skirt. If you shake your cute lil' butt at me one more time I might not be able to hold myself back from seeing what's under your slutty little skirt."

Hearing Yunho said that made you automatically wet and you had to feign rolling your eyes and pushing Yunho's face away as you got off him to excuse yourself to the bathroom. While you tried to calm yourself in the bathroom, Yunho defeatedly covered his eyes with his arms, totally embarrassed and slightly regretting that he said that in the first place. But he was right, though, he had sported a boner as a result from you sitting on top of him, knowing full well that your cunt was separated from his cock by a couple layer of clothing items. Fuck, he was so close to feeling you. With a groan, Yunho depleted into the couch, with his eyes closed, he thought of what he was going to say to you.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were screaming into your bunched up towel, absolutely wrecked by Yunho's words. Sure, you wore it because you remembered Yunho being so absolutely transfixed with the item when you both went shopping merely a couple days ago. Your plan was in motion and you don't know how to feel about that as you were sure your chances of success was no bigger than 32%. The occassional ass glancing was normal, but a full blown confession that Yunho wanted to devour your cunt made your arousal leak out of you like a broken faucet. So before you throw caution out the window, you thought it would be best to calm yourself down a bit.

Your inebriated state dulled your sense of time because when you finally got out of the bathroom, you saw Yunho on the couch, sleeping with his arms above his head. Pouting from disappointment, you walked over to him and stood by his side, thinking about what you're supposed to do now. Should you wake him up? Should you tuck him in? What if he thought what happened was just a dream and he forgot about it? But he looked so peaceful and calm and so so pretty, how could you even consider waking him up?

Yunho truly looked beautiful when he slept; his long lashes that you're so jealous of, his fair complexity, his plump lips. You had to remind yourself that Yunho was asleep and despite his confession earlier, you should try to hold yourself back from mauling him. No matter how hard it was for you. Though as your eyes trailed from his face to his neck, then his chest, then his shoulders and arms, and finally landed on his fingers, you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. It was long, pretty, and you know how some men have a severe case of man hands that made their fingers look stumpy and unappealing, but not Yunho. His fingers are just like his body, dainty and flexible yet they oddly enhances his masculinity. And for the life of you, you really do want to know how he would use them on you. Phantom feelings of Yunho's grip on your ass from earlier resurfaced and you shuddered at the memory, remembering how they were firm and possessive yet gentle and careful, it made you feel dangerous but provided a sense of safety as if telling you that you could trust him. And you do.

Without realizing, you had taken steps closer to his outstretched hand, standing so close to it that he was barely grazing you. For some reason, you could feel the warmth radiating from him even just from his digits. Your mind started wondering how exactly he would grab you and where. Your legs? Your knees? Your ankles? Or is he the type to spread you open by pinning your legs on the sides using his body? His wide shoulders would've definitely spread you open easily and it's not like you wouldn't open your legs for him. How can you not? It's Yunho for fuck's sake, your hot as fuck best friend who you sometimes (a lot of times) thought of whilst touching yourself.

As if he knew, Yunho stirred in his sleep which made you freeze in your spot, not wanting him to see what you were doing. He moved whilst still in his unconscious state and his hands moved slightly which unfortunately for you, pressed into your inner thigh with his soft palm making contact with the suddenly sensitive skin. Your body coiled from the touch and you couldn't help but let out a whimper. Everything felt so close yet so far all of a sudden and you wanted more. Though, you were fully aware that you shouldn't because Yunho was dead to the world and it would be wrong. But it felt so. so right and when else will you be getting a chance like this? Though, it didn't feel right as you weren't sure if he was okay with it or not. But he was just... Right there. Despite your better judgement, with your alcohol-soaked brain, your body seemed to move on its own before you could even make a coherent decision. The moment you realized what you were doing, you were already grinding against Yunho's arm with a lump forming in your throat. The guilt was making your stomach churn but you just couldn't stop what you were already doing. Even more so, you even moved down a bit so you could feel Yunho's long fingers directly on your covered slit. You had to cover your mouth with both your hands to suppress your moans because you didn't want him to wake up seeing you like that. Or you just didn't want any irrefutable reason to stop.

Unfortunately for you, your plans didn't go accordingly. Too busy with your ministration, you didn't realize Yunho slowly woke up with fluttering eyes and head slightly clearer than before. Ironically, the first thing that popped into his head was what you were doing as he had yet to realize that you were pleasuring yourself (or testing how you think he would pleasure you) on him. So when his consciousness finally came back wholly, the first thing he realized was something warm on his hand and something soft on his skin. "What the," Yunho craned his head slightly to see you with one hand covering your mouth and the other lifting your skirt as you ground yourself on his hand like a bitch in heat. A bitch with the neediest moans and the cutest pair of panties. God, was this a dream? Was this an imagination? Should he call on you and see if either you disappeared or he woke up in his bed with a raging boner? Or should he test the reality out himself?

Once again, your body froze when you felt something probing your cunt over the pathetic, flimsy excuse of a material. Your head snapped forward to see Yunho with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your crotch as if it was the most entertaining show ever. Or as if it was Fluffy, the three-headed dog as per his interest. "Yunho," the call made Yunho's eyes flit up to your eyes but his hand never stopped its movements on your, now that you took notice of it, sensitive pussy. You realized that you should have added something after calling him and you were sure you had the words at the tip of your tongue but when his damn middle finger slipped into your panties and started probing in your hole, you could actually feel your brain stalled and your tongue rolled into your throat.

It seemed like it would go on forever, the gaze you shared with Yunho, which made the fire that was starting in your chest grew considerably in a short span of time. From your perspective, you couldn't help but look at how lust-filled his eyes were, how he seemed hungry for you. He looked absolutely hot and maybe it was because you had never seen him look like that or look at you like that. It was a good thing though because even from just seeing it once, you know you couldn't get enough. From Yunho's side, he was taking his damn sweet time enjoying the way you look falling apart with only his fingers. Not that you knew about it, but he had a fair amount of experience imagining you under him, being used by and for him. He had even imagined you riding him like a cowboy making all sorts of noises from how good he felt inside you and also from the praises that he was giving you. Sure, he would like to praise you right then and there but by God, he was just so awestruck at how you looked and sounded. It was even better than his imagination, it was more than what he imagined. And he needed more.

Snapping you out of your pleasure-induced state, Yunho ripped your panties off easily and pulled you into his lap with a single gasp that escaped your lips. You barely registered the pieces of flimsy panties on the floor when Yunho pulled you so close that your noses were touching. "Don't worry, I'll buy cuter, frillier, and sexier panties for you," a chill ran up your spine when Yunho licked your bottom lip with a smug smirk on his face, "And you're going to do a little runway show for me then." With better positioning, Yunho was able to fully slip two of his thick and long fingers inside you with one swift move all thanks to your slick cunt. "Shi- fuck," you whimpered out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you felt your thighs tense up at how good Yunho's fingers were filling you and it was ridiculous because it was just his damn fingers. The sight of you on top of him was like a valuable renaissance art because it's dirty yet classy and he truly loved the physical proof of how he affected you so. Yunho used his free hand to flip your cute tiny skirt up to reveal the sight of your pussy absolutely devouring his digits. He loved it, he loved it so much, and he loved you so much. But that confession is for another time when his fingers are not up in you and he didn't want to make your arousal drip out of your cunt and drench his arm.

"I want to see you fuck yourself on my finger baby, make a show for me," Yunho felt his dick twitch in his pants when you let out a breathy whimper and your bottom lip quivered so adorably. "Show Yunnie how much he can make a mess of you," he demanded. Your heart dropped to your stomach when he used the nickname you used on him in a sexual way. Hearing that automatically made your hands move to his shoulders, anchoring your position as you began fucking yourself on his fingers. You were glad that he started with two because you didn't know how you were supposed to do it with three or more without your legs giving out. But you wanted to do your best to show him what you were capable of doing. Or maybe what he was capable of doing to you.

"Fuck I love your fingers Yunnie," you moaned out as your head dropped back, exposing your neck to Yunho which he utilized to plant his lips on your neck to begin marking you. Your grip on his shoulders tightened considerably when he delivered a particular suck and your mind immediately raced to imagine how that same suck would feel on your clit. Better yet, how he would look with his chin wet with your arousal between your legs. Just the thoughts made your pussy clench and your mouth drooled slightly, something Yunho didn't miss for even a second. With a chuckle sent through the skin of your neck, your body shuddered with the vibration that felt like electricity in your body. Along with your bouncing, as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your hips rolled forward when he pressed the heel of his palm on your clit, furthering your pleasure to the point that it was almost unbearable. "I- I wanna cum," you mumbled, biting your bottom lip to suppress a squeal when Yunho curled his fingers in you, accidentally grazing your g-spot. "Come on then baby, cum on my fingers and show me how much you're a good girl you are," he made a show of biting your upper chest through your sweater, dulling any pain but making your skin tingle. "You are, a good girl, right? A good, good girl in the tiniest skirt that you wear to tease any and all men that look in your way," he teased so smugly, loving how you seem to shrink under his words and he just loved it. He loves your tiny self (though metaphorically) in your tiny clothes that accentuate your everything and just drove him absolutely nuts. Your head shook quickly as you fucked yourself quicker and harder on his fingers with his palm still stimulating your clit, "No, no, no, Yunnie, just you. Only you. I wear this tiny, slutty skirt just for you," you spoke but your voice sounded small and breathy, exasperation beyond obvious to you and him. "Fuck, you'll be the death of me," Yunho grunted, thinking how much he was going to ravage you after this.

With a single push, Yunho managed to reposition you to be on your back with your head against the other armrest, legs spread open for him on his lap to provide easy access. "You better cum now, okay?" was all the warning you got before he fucked your hole even quicker than you were fucking yourself before. The slick you produced lubricated his movements effectively as well as letting out obnoxious, sloppy, sloshing sounds that told him just how wet you were. Yunho was definitely going to find a day (or night) soon enough just dedicated to eating you out.

You were reduced to a mess with your messy hair and trembling lips. Not to mention the pornographic moans you let out that may or may not cause you to receive complaints from the tenants on your floor or any other floors or even the next buildings. But you don't care, not at all, and especially not when Yunho made you cum so hard your hips were suspended mid-air, asscheeks clenched, and pussy leaking more of your juice onto Yunho's fingers. Though embarrassed at your situation, you found yourself incapable of moving whatsoever which was a contrast to Yunho who was looking at you with pure wonder and amazement, affection mixed with hunger. It was only when your hips rested back on the couch that Yunho took his fingers out of your cunt slowly, catching your attention. You couldn't deny that you almost drooled at the sight of Yunho sticking the fingers that were just in you into his mouth and sucking on them as if they were candy.

Distracted, you didn't realize that Yunho had begun unbuckling his pants and taking out his dick until you felt something heavy and hot slapping your cunt a couple times. It was only when you looked down that you saw his cock which was by far the biggest you have ever seen that you let out a soft squeak as your eyes widened. When you looked back up, Yunho was eyeing you hungrily like a predator.

"My turn."

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[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'Till you Make it | Part 14

“Eye Spy… with my little eye… something beginning wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiith T”

“Is it tree?”

“God, how do you keep doing that?”

“That’s been your fifth tree in six rounds, Eddie.”

“There’s loads of trees!!”

Steve was driving, he’d taken the driver’s seat of the rental car, Eddie calling shotgun putting his parents in the back seat, which neither really minded as they still had a few things to work out that they’d put on the back burner to allow Steve and Eddie to take those middle seats on the plane.

“Okay my turn, eye spy, with my little eye, something beginning with… T.”

“Is it tree?”

Steve sniggered but shook his head no. “No it’s not tree.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“It’s black.”

“T and black… can I have another hint?”

“You only get two hints are you sure you wanna use it now?” It was actually quite cute how Eddie hesitated, hand lifting to his chin, fingernails caught on his bottom teeth. “Maybe try another guess?”

“T and black…” Eddie looked down, and around himself, there was nothing outside that fit the bill, so it had to be inside the car. “T… and black… it’s definitely black, and begins with T… Teeelevision?”

“Do you see a television?”

“No.”

“No, Eddie, it’s not a television” he clicked his fingers in disappointment, as if it were actually a plausible guess.

“Tuuuuuaardvark.”

“What the hell is a tuaardvark?”

“An aardvark with a Tu at the beginning.” Steve really was trying to focus on the road, but Eddie was so effortlessly funny that it was impossible not to laugh. “Okay gimmie the hint, and make it a juicy one. An I do mean juicy, it needs to rival your—”

“Eddie!”

“Your juicy personality, get thy glorious head and its voluminous hair out of the gutter, baby.” He got a quiet giggle out of Lynda with that one, both parents trying not to get involved. They had things to do, even a getaway had work involved.

“For that alone I’m only going to tell you that there’s a few of them.” But he was going to smile about it, because he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, it was just… to hard to not smile around Eddie. His enjoyment was as infectious as his happiness.

“Awh shit, I always knew I’d be my own undoing. Go on then, put me out of my misery.”

“You sure you don’t want one more guess?”

“Do you think that’d help?”

“I think if you really look you could get it.”

“God you have such confidence in me, where was this support when I was trying to graduate? Okay.” Eddie pulled his long legs up and awkwardly crossed them in his seat, eyes skimming the surrounding area, then dipping down, brows furrowed in thought. A black few things beginning with T… a black few things, beginning with T… Teeee tee-tee-tee-tee-teeeee…teeeeshirt?”

“No, it’s not T-shirt.”

“Shit. Okay, not T-shirt” he reached up his hand and scratched his cheekbone, and out of the corner of his eye— he gasped sharply and yelled, “tattoo!!”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the car, he’s GOT IT!” There was a polite round of applause from the back seat that Eddie turned back to bow to, hands clasped together in victory. “Ooh, we’re almost there, one more round I think, and don’t pick a tree.”

“Okay! Okay lemme think, let me think, leeet me…OOH, eye spy, with my little eye, something beginning with M.”

“It’s mole isn’t it?”

“GodDAMMIT!”

Eddie had no idea what to expect when they started their journey, he had no idea what their end result would look like, he had a vague idea that it’d probably be extravagant, and that maybe he wouldn’t like the look of it purely going off of the Harrington’s house back in Hawkins, that place looked cold.

It looked empty.

What sat nestled at the end of a long woodland driveway, was nothing like the Harrington House.

Sure, it was large, could probably fit a good few families in there with room to spare, but it was styled like a log-cabin, just, bigger. It was all wood undoubtedly farmed from the surrounding areas, natural stone work making up the foundation and the chimney probably mined from the mountains around them, and glass windows.

It looked… huge but still so cosy.

Like the inside would probably smell a little like Christmas and warm every inch of you just by standing in it.

“Okay,” Eddie turned around in his seat to look into the back, and really did try and school his tone into something as respectful as he possibly could manage “not to disrespect your house in Hawkins but why would you live there in that if you have this out here?” Hawkins was a shithole in Eddie’s opinion, it was full of backwards thinking angry church types with vendettas against fun and honestly nothing happened there.

The most exciting thing to happen in Hawkins in the history of ever, was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie’s hair because it looked suspiciously like a nest.

They had no creepy ghost stories, no weird happenings, no strange people unless you count himself and maybe a few of the hellfire kids, maybe his bandmates, but it was boring. He wanted out. The only thing keeping him there was… well… his Uncle.

“It’s not ours” John answered as the car pulled to a stop outside of the slowly opening garage, the eldest Harrington putting his things back into his bag and unclipping the seatbelt. “It’s Steven’s.” And that wide-eyed stare was immediately switched from the elder Harrington’s to the youngest, the sheepishly smiling Steve.

“It belonged to my grandparents, or well… my grandpa. He left it to me in the will, but we’ve been coming here to spend time with them for years this is just… the second year now without either of them here.” They had a maintenance guy, or multiple guys on retainer who’d go in once every two weeks to keep the place clean, but other than that it remained empty. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from placing a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder, expression softening, Steve shook his head though, “sorry, that just set a weird mood, let’s just… get inside and get settled, yeah? I’ll even let you pick our room.”

“Room as in… one room? For the both of us? That’s—that’s uhm” he looked back at the parents “that’s okay with you guys?”

“Sure, again it’s not our house.” And even if it was, both John and Lynda figured Steve would wind up in Eddie’s room anyway “we’d prefer it though if you picked one on the other side of the house to ours.” John opened the car door, catching Eddie’s attention again “we’ve been burned by those old wooden walls before.” And then he was out of the car, followed by Lynda who he helped climb out, leaving both men in the car alone while they made their way to the house.

Steve pulled forwards into the vacant garage, the door to shut behind them, and a light automatically switched on, replacing the darkness of the garage with a warm white light.

“They’re not the only ones who’ve been burned, trust me.” Steve shook his head with an amused smile as he cut the engine. “Is the one room okay, Eddie? It’s not like… crossing any lines with you, is it?” His parents weren’t there, they couldnt hear them, there was no reason to pretend, even if he did want to try and make it as realistic as possible as per Robin’s idea, he had to keep checking in with Eddie to make sure he was okay.

“No! No, no it’s okay… I’ve never… I haven’t really… shared a room with anyone before” only child, and Wayne had given him the only room in the trailer “is it like… a two bed situation or—”

“One bed, Eddie… one room, one bed, there’s only one room in that house with multiple beds in it and it’s full of bunk beds from when I was twelve an all the cousins used to visit around the same time… it might seem a bit weird if we pick that one.” He was going to be spending an entire week… sleeping in the same bed as Steve Harrington, in what was essentially a dream house nestled in the woods.

He was going to get used to it. He was going to get used to it all, and it was going to kill him to leave it all at the end of the week. It was going to destroy him to lose it all.

“Heh… maybe—maybe someday we could bring the kids up, they could stay in the bunk bed room” grin and bear it, maybe it’d all work out if he just… went with the flow. Wishful thinking usually went against the good ol Munson Doctrine, but… everything Steve had been doing since they first started their whacky plan had flown in the face of that stupid doctrine so… maybe deviating from it wouldn’t hurt as bad as it could if he just… went with it.

“I mean… we could force them to use the bunkbeds, an that could be pretty funny”

They probably wouldn’t be as psyched to stay in bunkbeds as they would have been back when they were all tiny, squishy middle schoolers, although it’d probably be easier to get their parents to agree to the trip now they were older.

“Payback for all the shit they’ve thrown at us over the years.”

“It’s like you’re in my brain.”

Part 16

[bobfloydsbabe]

gold rush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

SUMMARY: Everyone knows history professor Bob Floyd is a little eccentric. He only drinks tea steeped for exactly four minutes, his desk is pristine while the rest of his office looks like a bomb went off, he's distrustful of technology, and he definitely doesn't want or need a teaching assistant. Certainly not one who's as aggravating as she is pretty...

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: ~0.5k

A/N: Eccentric Professor Bob Floyd has been on my mind constantly for the last week, so here we are with a moodboard and a short blurb. This AU will not be a full length series, but a collection of blurbs and drabbles. Special thanks to @ryebecca for raving with me about my new favorite grumpy man. Don't hesitate to send me questions and headcanons!

UPDATE: ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST

Bob stops dead in his tracks in the doorway to his office, hot tea spilling over the edges of the cup.

Inside, among piles of books and paper, stands a woman with her back turned none the wiser to his presence. She can’t be one of his students–they know not to come to his office unless they have an appointment.

“Who are you?” he asks, not bothered with pleasantries.

She turns around with a startled laugh. “Dr. Floyd, you scared me,” she says with a hand pressed to her heaving chest. “You can’t sneak up on people like that.”

“You’re in my office,” he points out, brushing past her as he walks to his desk in long strides, placing his cup on a coaster to protect the wood.

“Right,” she agrees.

He sits and pulls his books closer to continue preparing for his next lecture, but his eyes drifts back to the young woman. She appears to be in her mid, maybe late twenties. Dark hair falls in loose waves around her face, and she’s looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?” he asks.

She cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m waiting for you to put me to work.”

“Work?”

“Yes,” she answers, incredulous. “What did your old TA do?”

He stares at her, almost convinced he’s hallucinating. “I don’t have a teaching assistant.”

She smiles at him, wide and enthusiastic. “Well, you do now. Would you like me to clean up a bit? It’s a little messy in here.”

Bob suppresses a frustrated groan. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and rounds his desk, stopping in front of her. The scent of her perfume hits his nostrils, something spicy and vaguely floral, and this close, he can see all the colors in her eyes. “I don’t want a TA and I certainly don’t need one. Whoever hired you–”

“Dr. Kazansky,” she interjects. “–made an error. Now, please, leave.”

Walking back around his desk, he ignores the sound of her taking a deep breath and composing herself. She doesn’t speak until he’s fully sat and emerged in his books again.

“You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day.”

The door slams and Bob’s left in the silence of his office, staring at the spot where she stood mere moments ago. Of course, Dr. Kazansky went behind his back to hire a teaching assistant–he’s insisted that Bob needs one for years, but Bob’s always been able to avoid it. Until now, it seems. He wonders how long she’ll last before she realizes he’s too set in his ways to change. But as he imagines the way her nose will scrunch in annoyance, it occurs to him he never even got her name.

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[eldritch-spouse]

Lacai getting caught stealing the Queen's new panties and her forcing him to eat her pussy as a punishment??

[""Forcing him""- Oh no, the poor pervert. Fem reader.]

Lacai figures he could just be patient.

He really could afford to wait only a few minutes until you and King Vesper depart for this evening's festivities. Left vastly alone in the mansion with only his team of servants and the occasional toy roaming around, there'd be nothing to stop this sleazeball from dunking himself head first into the used laundry basket inside your bedchambers.

But that's not his goal.

Sure, he does want to keep pairs of your panties for himself. For his growing collection, his trophies, though it was never the driving reason for his actions. Lacai wants to get caught, he thrills in becoming sloppy, leaving traces, keeping you wondering who is doing such a disgusting thing.

The King probably already knows, if Lacai had to guess. But not you. It's taking a while for it to click in your head. Lacai supposes he's a bit mean for accusing some of the less subtle servants, taking advantage of the fact that he's the most dressed person in the mansion- Though it's more than a little fun to throw you off. There's playfulness in every imp, after all.

Still, knowing the risk, because of the risk, the fantasy of it all, Lacai is currently in the main bathroom. Digging through your laundry basket as expected. It was placed there specifically for your comfort, everyone knows the Lord of Lust walks everywhere he can bare as the day he was born- Save for the chains, of course.

You don't. Not yet at least. You still cling to the creature comforts and routines of the surface, like a safety blanket. Lacai knows it won't take that long before you give into the demonlord's temptations however, admiring Vesper for his patience as pink claws scrape off clothing items one by one, day by day. Point being, Lacai supposes he ought to make the most out of this adaptation period, before there are no more clothes to steal away at all...

The impcubus makes a cursory glance around the room, to the doorway, before stuffing wriggling gloved fingers into your used items. Naturally having a sharper sense of smell than humans, he's already being hit with all sorts of faint signals, mostly your natural scent and a hint of sweat. A womanly musk. Nothing out of sorts.

Lacai hums quietly as he searches, tail wagging, images rapidly forming in his mind. Once again, he defaults to picturing what you might do if you stumbled in on this, a scenario he has made and remade an obsessive amount of times. You're not a full on raging pervert yet, at least not openly -It's all a matter of inevitability here, the waiting game- So you're definitely going to punish him in some way or another.

Mmm punishment... Your punishment. His tail curls giddily.

Would you send him to the floor, put a heel to his chest, berate him for his depravity while making him kiss and lick wordless apologies up the length of your beautiful legs? Don't you know he can't help it? That he's only a lovelorn, desperate, debased vassal? A thrall to your every movement, dirty enough to sate himself with traces of you- Have you no pity, beneath that sugary smile, for your gross little servant?

Just as he starts getting into the zone of a specific scenario, something already stirring in his pants, Lacai snags something between his index and middle finger that has his eyes widening.

" Oh? "

The fantasy slips away, slinking into the creases between the tiles on the floor when Lacai extracts a remarkable pair of panties from the pile. The previous pairs he had fished are all but swiftly discarded, the apple of his eye now a very expensive-looking piece. Purple, featuring intricate and manually woven patterns on all sides, vaguely transparent as they swirl and dance on the skin of the wearer and featuring short frills on the sides.

Fucking jackpot!

The imp's breath catches.

He's seen this pair before on you. It's very very recent. In fact, the King gifted it to you when you started truly settling into your new life as the consort of Lust. Lacai knows because he saw this very pair on you once. Vesper was determined to spoil you extra hard that day, he wanted you to feel irresistible, and thus, your outfit had to reflect that. The imp will never forget the way you sauntered across the halls in those translucent pink robes, thin fabric melting into a beautiful lavender gradient. The head imp is unashamed to admit that he constantly tilted his head and lingered in certain places just to better see your delicious ass framed by those patterns. The way it rode up your hips and framed your pretty pussy was hypnotizing. Lacai wished he could have just whisked you away for a second, a moment for his eyes -And hopefully hands- Only, but the sovereign had your attention the whole day and his servant understood it wouldn't be wise to get in the way.

Lacai brings the cloth to his face, moaning in glee as traces of you tickle up his nostrils to his brain, fireworks set off, his pants suddenly a hindrance when his length wastes no time poking out its slit and tenting them. You've worn these recently, he can tell, humming at the high the cloth offers his depraved senses while his hand trails a path down his front, unceremoniously crammed down dark pants to fetch his cock, pump himself to the image of you leaving these out for him- The thought of you playing with yourself through the cloth and letting your wetness coat it before discarding it, knowing he's going to weasel his way to it eventually, makes him throb painfully.

The more he palms and squeezes at his own length, the less Lacai seems to care about anything around him, cursing under his breath as he considers simply blowing his load right then and there without so much as a quick escapade to more private settings no one's likely to find him in. A shiver charts its way down his spine, making his tail tense when he hunches with growing pleasure, eyes shut, his peak approaching embarrassingly fast for his type of fiend, and then-

" Bastard! "

The imp gasps hard enough to nearly inhale your panties in the process, choking, skeleton jumping out his skin as he swivels to face you.

It's not even that Lacai is ashamed. It's that he genuinely didn't hear you.

" So it was you this whole time?! "

The demon doesn't offer much of a reaction to your very evident rage, instead taking the time to study your new attire. Apparently, Vesper is ever closer to having you strut around stark naked, because the sparse red fabric crisscrossing your body in a manner much too reminiscent of shibari to be a mere coincidence can barely be considered clothing by any definition of the word.

Lacai gets distracted by the sight of your peeking nipples for long enough that you catch him off-guard yet again and viciously yank the panties off his hand. Ah, there goes his golden find.

While you evaluate the item, checking if he had done something to it, the servant can't stop the heated grin that tugs at his lips when he realizes he's getting exactly what he asked for- Caught red-handed. His tail rises in anticipation and Lacai licks his lips, still finding traces of your musk there. He's the picture of smooth arrogance when you glare back at him, which humorously only seems to make you boil more.

You're probably thinking about all the excuses he gave you, all the clever little misleading comments, adding two and two together right in front of him.

" You little- " You huff. " Are you even going to defend yourself, you sleazeball?! "

He throbs at the comment, visibly so, and you finally seem to register the hand that's still in his pants, and hasn't really stopped teasing him all this time. Fury and flustered shock war on your face, making the other all but tremble with delight.

" Mmn no. "

He had to fight the urge to laugh when you flinched at the nonchalant response. A silent pause passes where your hues crash against violet ones. And while any other concubus would have seen this as an aggressive challenge, brightened their eyes warningly, Lacai knows he can't meet his oblivious ruler's boldness. So, as a different way of defying you, he keeps stroking his cock, as if he didn't feel minimally threatened by your distaste. And he doesn't.

" Unbelievable! " You erupt. " I am- I'm your Queen! "

It's the first time Lacai has ever heard you refer to yourself with the correct title, causing his usual lidded gaze to actually widen in genuine soft happiness. You seem to taste and test the term on your own lips, trying to sound confident even when it's very clear the role still intimidates you.

He could shoot your bravado down with another disarming quip, but it might ruin the fun. The imp knows he has to tread a thin line between teasing and compliance, playing at your pace is the best option.

" Get on your knees. "

Oh. Oh?

The smirk he sported before turns into an outright grin, Lacai's cheeks painted a plum purple. The imp obeys far too fast, eagerly awaiting a new order, beaming at the possible perversions running through your mind. What will you have him do?

Instead, you roll your eyes at him. " Ugh, take your hand off your dick for two seconds. "

Easier said than done, you're such a massive fucking cocktease. It makes him stupid. Nevertheless, two gloved palms rest on his thighs politely, girth back to straining at its coverings.

Wordlessly, your arm lifts and an index finger points to the tiled floor in front of you. Lacai feels a wave of heat course through him while he crawls your way, slinking on the ground like the pathetic pervert he is at heart, head low, a curled tail betraying his enjoyment. His panting breaths condense on the floor.

" I don't want to hear a single smartass comment from you. " He hears more than sees a leg stretching forward. " Make it up to me. "

A quiet purring coo erupts from Lacai's throat, the smaller demon instantly letting greedy hands drift to your heel-clad foot. He grabs you like you're made of porcelain, pressing lingering kisses against bare skin, between the lace of your gorgeous heeled sandals, going as far as to boldly tug on the thin fabric from time to time. He trails a feverish and imploring path to your ankle, then scoots ever nearer to you as his journey up your leg truly begins. Because, as much as Lacai would like to spend all day kissing every part of you, he's clearly got a preference and it's right between your legs.

You shoot the imp a warning look when he tries to get close enough to rest his groin against your leg.

Unfortunately for you, it keeps slipping your mind that concubi aren't creatures whose eyes you can look into for too long without suffering consequences. There's a reason Lacai keeps seeking eye contact while he performs his "apologetic" display, a reason as to why his reverent kisses are becoming wetter. He may be an imp, but his influence is still felt in a human's body.

And you're starting to get decently wet.

When Lacai begins mouthing at the inside of your thigh, hands flirting up and down the length of your skin, eyes wantonly drifting to that scandalously sheer strip of cloth covering your pussy, he can no longer hold the mischief maker in him that begs to pipe up, to rile.

The imp leans up, moving to happily place a peck on your covered cunt when you grab his left horn and yank his head away.

" And who said you could do that, you audacious bastard? "

He gives you this drunken smile, full of adoration and desire, mirth glinting in those pretty eyes. " But my Queen, your need calls to me. I only want to please you. "

" My nee- "

" You're wet enough to taste. "

There. The shock that flashes through your face like you've just been slapped. Such short memory you have. Maybe you're under the impression only King Vesper can scent your arousal... Wrong. So very wrong. Every time you pass by a servant with desire in your heart, all of them get a pulse, an alarm- You're exigent in your lusts.

Another stare down ensues, and what a wonderful view it is to have you looming over him, hopelessly turned on yet disdainful, forever trapped between those two states, a visage of turmoil and begrudging adaptation- Already too tempted and ruined to return to the person you once were, but unable to fully accept it either. The sovereign should demand a painting of you with this exact expression, in Lacai's humble opinion.

" How dare you. "

It wasn't even a question.

The impcubus blinks lazily.

After far too long being restlessly still, your index -Such long and beautiful nails you're sporting today, he hopes you puncture him with them- Hurriedly swipes that velvet cloth aside, baring to the servant your need. Slick, plump, he can almost hear your heartbeat there as blood flow increases in the area.

" Fix your mess, you animal. "

And even if you hiss it at Lacai like it's some sort of dreadful punishment, the two of you know so much better already. You're practically doing him a favor, without outright admitting that perhaps it turns you on that he was the underwear thief all along.

" Of course, my Lady. " Looking at his face or not, you can hear the grin in those words.

Lacai doesn't take off his gloves, you're starting to think it might be his fetish, but it would also be lying to say that the sensation of such expensive spandex spreading your lips isn't somewhat exotic. His fingers are delicate but explorative, tracing the length of your entrance and nudging your clit, slow, deliberately too light to give you any real stimulus.

Even now, he has the nerve to test your patience.

Nearly growling at the head imp, you grab his onyx hair and make sure to glue his mouth to your cunt. He moans, giggling hornily.

" Make this quick. "

Who is he to deny a direct order from his superior?

Lacai moves with a fury, the depths of his yearning for you -Brewing from the first day- Unearthed viciously as he latches onto you without reservation. Oh he will make it fast, fast enough that you won't even have time to beg him for more before you're convulsing atop him.

The imp has to keep you steady with handfuls of your ass, taking the opportunity to encourage you to grind on his face when you're finally able to find your footing after the initial shock. In the back of his mind, he really hopes you can handle cumming in heels without tripping or breaking something.

Between the sucking of your poor clit, rolled by his tongue like a pearl and the shameless lapping of your hole, you can only gasp and twitch when he quickly manages to stuff most of his tongue inside you. Your nails claw against his scalp and Lacai's spine arches when you tip your head back to moan throatily, the type of sound he loves hearing from Vesper's throne while he's working nearby, but for him this time.

No words of praise are spared to him when you grunt and twist your hand on his scalp, forcing the demon's head to twist back uncomfortably just so he can shove even more of his drooling tongue up your pussy, his chin caked in your slick and the noises of him mercilessly drilling into you ringing out grossly.

The shuddering whines you let out have Lacai heating like a furnace, so he waits patiently until you start truly fucking his face with harsh rolls of your lush hips before letting one of his hands fall to the front of his pants, eagerly shoving everything out of the way to offer his neglected length some merciful attention. As soon as he starts moaning and panting, you shake your head.

" No- " You rush between heavy breaths. " No, you're not allowed! Put your hands away. "

He does. And you're smart enough to voice an addendum as soon as another appendage begins to move.

" Cheeky fuck- Hhn, no tail either. "

The imp is proud of you for thinking that far ahead. Leave it to a concubus to get creative with their restrictions. He makes a theatrical show of whimpering against your pulsing cunt, though never slows his movement, even as you start rhythmically clenching on him. The taste of you directly is so much more than he could ever hope to gleam with just used panties. He can understand why Vesper will eat you out ravenously, why he's constantly trying to keep your juicy pussy stuffed. The imp is drooling like a fucking mutt and he cares none even when a mix of his aphrodisiac saliva and your wetness drip down his face, tainting his collar.

" Y- You don't deserve this. "

Oh he really doesn't, but it's sweet of you to offer anyway.

Lacai makes his gratitude known by thrusting his whole face harder against you, mimicking what he'd really like to do in that moment, neglected dick throbbing pitifully as he tries to phantom the sensation of your insides around him. His tail might not be used for his pleasure under your decree, but he can still flirt it around the tight ring of your asshole, feeling the way you jolt in response.

When the servant senses you tightening and coiling in an approaching climax, he makes sure to look right into your eyes, not wanting to miss those gorgeous faces you make for a single second. Your pupils dilate and your mouth parts, this series of rushed cries escaping you as your sweet complexion twists once more to a depraved one befitting of your station as Queen of carnality.

In his awe, Lacai falters only for a fraction of a moment before making sure to do his job properly and milking every drop of your pleasure out, enjoying the good soaking you cover him in and sucking your oversensitive button even as you spasm and tremble with too much stimulus at once. White gloves fix your legs in place when your balance starts to falter and Lacai purrs with delight while you ride those last embers of pleasure on his debased complexion.

He doesn't want to wash his face ever again. Maybe he'll let one of the other imps lick your cum off him, whoever's lucky enough to catch him first...

The impcubus watches adoringly, ever still and obedient, while you rest idly on him, content to stay like this the whole day. Eventually, your tense grip on his hair alleviates, and you pet him quietly before shakily unmounting his face- The bottom of it glossy and viscous with the evidence of your enjoyment. Your "punishment".

Although Lacai looks ever smug and self-satisfied, the way his shoulders hunch and his thighs flex betrays reality, that he's bursting to get himself off already. That much you can see.

" Was my humble apology appropriate enough for you, my Queen? Or should I try harder? "

The soft smile on your face turns into a frown and he titters inwardly.

" Ugh, you're a lot more tolerable when your mouth is put to use. "

Fuck, it's like you're after his heart with those comments. The sudden twinkle in your eyes thrills him even more.

" As a matter of fact- " You suddenly seem to recall the panties bundled into a tight ball between your digits.

Unwrapping the fabric, you smile almost nefariously as you lean to harshly press it against Lacai's face, almost grinding it on him. He hasn't been this turned on in a long while.

" There. Finish yourself off. "

That dismissive tone should have brought an inkling of shame to Lacai, but it flew right over his head and horns.

The demon muffles a heated "Thank you" against the fabric, eyes rolling while he immediately, finally drops both hands to his cock.

Even in his own selfish pursuit of euphoria, the imp makes sure to spread his legs and ride his sweater up, giving you an unobstructed view of the lurid motions he makes. Hoping you realize that it's far from the first time that he's fucked his own fist and hands to the thought of you, the sight, the smell. Oh, if only you were just a little bit more attentive to your surroundings, you would have caught the numberless times Lacai got off just around the corner, in the same room as you, quietly.

You seem to appreciate the little degenerate show, this pleasantly amused expression framing your pretty features, eyes drifting from his glazed eyes to the outline of his filthy tongue cleaning your panties and the hump of his legs into his own grasp. It definitely doesn't take much for the impcubus to reach his peak, having been teasing himself since before you showed up.

Lacai makes sure you're watching him intently when he curls, holding his breath before belting out a pathetic noise that vibrates your palm and staining the floor with the surprising suddenness of his own trembling orgasm. He's too busy trying to prolong the high to notice the fact the one stray shot stains your foot, to which you grimace faintly, observing him idly while righting your outfit.

The cloth is finally removed from Lacai's face. " Thank you. " He speaks properly, sighing, cleaning his own lips and cheeks.

You're about to reply, when hurried heavy footsteps ring outside, giving you only enough time to turn before two polite knocks are heard.

" Vixen? Are you alright? " The King's voice sounds mildly confused.

The doors part and he pokes his head inside, bright wide eyes searching for you, then quickly taking in the picturesque state his Queen and main servant are in. A smile full of genuine adoration graces his dark lips as he realizes what you were both up to, though his expression shifts rapidly to something more serious.

" Come, my Lady. You can play with him more later, we have places to be and we're already getting late. "

Nodding bashfully, you fix your hair quickly while Vesper turns his attention to Lacai with a disappointed expression, the infernal gold on him clinking at every movement of his head tendril.

" Lacai my dear, I'd encourage your fuckery any other day, but I did warn you we would be busy today. Did I not? "

Said imp, covers himself half-heartedly. " I- I understand, forgive me S- "

Right as he's about to finish the sentence, you quickly shove those cute purple panties in his mouth, giggling and petting the gagged servant's already messy hair when he gawks.

" It's fine. " You wink, making the demonlord laugh loudly at your antics. " But if I find another pair of panties missing, I want you to actually punish him. "

Lacai watches you clean your foot on his pants and follow Vesper outside, the King's reply making him gulp dryly.

" Oh, I do promise. "