#if you end up at the top of my dash you will receive at least 10 boops sorry I don’t make the rules

[mydoctor]

i have two paws and i must boop

#almost to boop quota #if you end up at the top of my dash you will receive at least 10 boops sorry I don’t make the rules #i just work here

[inklore]

crimson and clover.

part one | next part | series masterlist

premise: maybe you shouldn’t get high with eddie again but you can’t get him off of your mind, and his lips are too inviting to fight the growing addiction you’re succumbing to from the things he can do with them.

pairing: eddie munson x richgirl!reader

word count: 7k

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with plot, f receiving oral, fingering, a touch of voyeurism, weed smoking, virgin!eddie, teasing and banter, soft dirty talk, alluded blowjob, jealousy mention, cheesy fluff, shitty parentals.

etc: i’m literally obsessed with these two to the point of insanity!! like i’m not usually that much of a plot heavy girly but buckle up besties we in deep <3.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

It’s quite embarrassing, excruciatingly taxing, vexing and every other big word that you could remember and barely comprehend—but now are having a grave first-hand experience with—from those Jane Austen books you had to read in class.

Every ten sellable verb, feeling, pretext; all of them describing the exact state of your mind right now, and how superficial it made you feel. Aforementioned: excruciating, embarrassing.

A week has gone by since the night you spent with Eddie, and it’s all you find yourself thinking about.

Your mind plays a constant loop reel of everything that happened; the giggles, the kiss, the…other thing. At night when you want to sleep your mind is too busy thinking about whether or not Eddie’s thinking about it too, what happened. Or if he’s out bragging to his friends—something you have your doubts about. The two of you hadn���t discussed if this was an under-wraps kind of thing, it was probably common knowledge you wouldn't want it to be spread all over town. Which it would be, like wildfire.

None of your friends have called you to belittle you yet, so you doubt he’s told anyone.

But was it plaguing his mind as pathetically as it was yours? Or were you just so starved for decent human interaction that your mind was holding onto this one night like it was an aphrodisiac?

Maybe if you had received a call from him you wouldn’t be acting so…mortifyingly in your feelings for god knows why.

"Will we be graced with your presence across the tracks again, princess?" He had asked when he pulled up a block down from your house, not trusting his loud engine to not wake up your parents—or at the very least a neighbor who would see and then go running to your parents about the strange man they saw you with. It wasn’t a mess you wanted to deal with.

"Don't call me that." You had groaned, undoing your seatbelt and hiding your smile by biting the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t thought past this night, were still too busy rolling off that high from smoking and having Eddie against your mouth…inside of your mouth.

And maybe it was his smile, his thumb tapping on the steering wheel, eyes flashing to your mouth and back up like he didn’t know if he was allowed to kiss you again, or if he should.

But you reached across the dash and grabbed the pen randomly rested atop of it, leaned over to pull his hand from the wheel, and wrote your number on top of it.

"Don't call before six or after midnight.” You let your smile spread, threw the pen back on the dash, and opened the passenger door hopping out. “See you around, Munson.”

That was seven days ago and counting.

Never-ending counting.

It’s not like you expected him to call. You figured he probably wouldn’t, the two of you were not about to become best friends just because he cleaned your shoes, or let you smoke his weed, or because he came in your mouth. You didn’t—shouldn’t—have any expectations from Munson and you were sure he had none from you.

History didn’t make you friends. Sharing weed or an incredible kiss didn’t either.

So it wasn’t a big deal he hadn’t called.

And yet as you sit at one of the pristine white table cloth tables of the Country Club, your parents on either side of you, your fingers playing with the straw of your drink; you’re wondering if he’s called.

You’re so hyper-focused on that thought, of the thought of that stupid smile that you can’t shut your eyes without seeing—that you don’t hear your mother speaking to you until the words “I heard you two broke up” are spat through the air.

Reality crashes down on you, and you can’t help the grimace that flashes across your lips. Word really does spread like wildfire in this town. You hadn’t expected your parents to find out until at least a few weeks—or never, a girl could dream. Enough time for you to come up with an excuse at least, anything but the truth. Which would be nothing but unacceptably unrealistic to them.

“He’s not a good-”

“I didn’t ask for your feelings on the matter.” Your mother interrupts. Scowls down at the martini glass in her hand. “Fix it. You’re both going to the same college, a college your father called in many favors just to get you in. Since you couldn’t do it on your own.” Her last words are mumbled, snappy, and hurtful as always. “His parents run in the same social circle as us and could do wonders for your father's business. Don’t ruin this for yourself over girlish feelings.”

Your throat feels tight, constricted, suffocated. Your fingers have dropped from your straw to grip the end of your white pleated skirt under the table. You know even if you told your mother the full story, how you truly felt, how you’ve been with him since sophomore year and neither of you have even muttered the words ‘I love you’. And don’t think you ever will. Would.

Or how last year over spring break the two of you broke up for a month and you had felt more rejuvenated than any hundred-dollar spa treatment ever could. As if you had peeled off a deadweight and could finally feel something other than the caked-on layers of presser that were endlessly put onto you by him, by them.

Then he came back and said the same thing your mother did “don’t ruin this for us” when he had been the one to leave you. And you’d done the stupid thing and said yes. As the two of you kissed and made up your mind searched for the why, the how, the what-the-fuck-were-you doing.

And now with your mother's words as fresh as a reopened wound reminding you of the memory, you know you said yes because of her. Your father. Their need to seem so disgustingly perfect on the outside, to hide how ugly they were on the inside.

Were you as ugly as them?

The question makes your knee bounce, knuckles straining from the grip on your skirt.

Your mothers already moved on from you, talking to the friend at her side. Smiling, keeping that perfect crown in place. Turning towards your father you hope to see a sympathetic look, some wise words—wasn’t that what fathers were supposed to do? Wise words and comfort? But he’s not even looking at you, too busy laughing at something the man beside him has said.

You need to get out of here. Go home and scream into your pillow or something.

Standing from the table, a little too quickly. The legs of your chair screeching against the hardwood, your father finally looks at you.

“Everything alright?” A monologue of how everything is the farthest thing from being alright in the back of your throat and ready to be screamed. But then you can feel your mother's eyes on you, don’t have to turn to see her look of impassiveness to know it’s there.

“Yeah,” you give them both your best performed smile. “Just going to do what mom said, fix it.”

Your lie only gets you a hum from said woman and then she’s done with you and turning her head. Your dad gives you the weakest of smiles and asks if you need any money—for no reason at all. Shaking your head you quickly bid them goodbye and do your best walk-sprint out of the building.

The hot summer night air a welcome humidity from the suffocation you felt in there.

You have your parent's driver take you home. Screw your ex and screw your parents.

If your mother wanted him to be in your family so bad maybe she should drop her Pilates instructor and have him instead. It would take a hefty price—that you were sure your parents would gladly pay to get you to shut up and listen to them—to ever bring yourself to his front door and beg for him back.

You didn’t beg. For anyone. Over anything.

You asked. You got. Demanded. Sometimes you didn’t even need to ask. You were just given to. Your bank account and school career showed as much.

Fuck, maybe you were the Princess of Hawkins after all.

You start in a small sprint up the stairs to your room, your throat still feeling as if it’s being squeezed by your mother's words, indifference towards you, demands. Even with her not around you feel like you’re being suffocated by her.

You really shouldn’t have come back home.

Not for the summer. Not anytime. Should have just stuck to the one call a month and check in the mail. Life was more peaceful that way. At least you could breathe.

It was going to be one hell of a long, torturous summer.

“Someone called for you!”

You hear just as your foot lands on the last step. Your heart leaping in your chest as you turn and yell down, “who?”

“They didn’t say.” Your family housekeeper appears at the bottom of the stairs, a small smile on her face. “But they did leave their number and said to call them if you needed help on biology or something like that.” She shakes her head, “could barely understand them. There was loud music in the background.”

Eddie.

The grin that spreads across your lips is demeaning to your social status. Same with the way your heart feels like it’s pumping from your stomach now as you run back down the stairs and take the number from her, only to run back up them and to your room; dialing the number into the pink phone beside your bed, pacing the floor as you wait, hope, shamefully pray that he answers.

On the fifth ring he answers and when his voice floods through the phone when you hear the “shit-hold on” as he turns down the music blaring in the background, you feel like you can finally breathe again. No more tight throat. Suffocating. The only thing you feel now is that familiar giddy ache in your cheeks.

“Biology huh?”

You can hear the puff of air Eddie lets out from realizing it’s you, from the smile that you can tell is on his face when he speaks through the receiver, “I thought telling her I was ‘the weed guy’ would be worse, town freak was my second option.”

"Munson, it's summer no one's doing biology!"

“Incorrect. Summer school is a prison sentence I have had the displeasure of being sentenced to.” Of course, he has. You can’t help the laugh that comes out, one he joins in on.

There’s a silence that spreads where you can hear him fiddling with something on the other line.

And then he’s saying, “is the Princess busy or can she step away from the castle, and grace us, peasants, with her presence?"

You’re smiling again, fuck.

“She could, but I don't know, she might need payment." You say in your best uppity voice, flopping back on your bed. Your fingers coiling and uncoiling the cord hanging from the phone.

"Drats! Right when I’m out of gold doubloons too."

“Oooh, and I only take gold, looks like the peasants must go un-graced today.”

"Would thy majesty take my humble payment of the best weed in the county instead?" He puts on his best historically accurate voice that has you snorting.

“That’s very presumptuous of you to say it's the best."

"Did I say the best? Sorry, I meant the greatest.”

God, you despised how nice this felt. How the muscles in your cheeks were already sore and you hadn’t even been talking to him for more than five minutes. How you can’t remember someone calling you and it being like this, no gossip, no hounding questions or accusations.

Oh, how the normal half lives.

"I'll meet you where you dropped me off the other night, okay?"

"Your chariot will be waiting, princess."

When Eddie picks you up and the two of you fly across town, sharing silent smiles, the town passing in the rear view, heavy metal blaring throughout the speakers—that he doesn’t turn down until his van comes to a stop through a wooded clearing, in front of a familiar lake.

Lovers Lake.

"Really, Munson? Trying to get lucky again?" You tease, a cheeky grin covered up by him laughing behind the hair that moves in his face as he undoes his seatbelt and moves to the back of the van.

You follow him into the back, sitting on the van floor. Eddie on the sofa, much like the last night the two of you were together. Except now you’re sitting with your legs crossed out in front of you, back against one of the walls of the van.

You let him do his thing of pulling out the metal box and rifling through it while he finds what he needs. Occupying your time with looking at the newly added amps and wires that weren’t there the other night.

"What's your band called again?"

"Corroded Coffin.”

You smile remembering him telling you that when you were partnered together. Remember how he drummed his fingers on the desk and air guitared you a silent piece to emphasize how good he swore he could play, how good the band was.

"You should come see us play sometime. If you're into that.” He looks up at you through his bangs, his fingers moving in his lap as he rolls the joint.

You give the tiniest smirk as you say, “like a date?”

His shoulders are shrugging, ringed fingers scratching his cheek. “If a grimy bar and drunk geezers falling off their barstools is your ideal date then yes. Absolutely.” You share a smile and then he’s going back to his task at hand.

When he’s finished rolling, and after you’re done eyeballing him: watching how his fingers work along the rolling papers, those damn rings distracting you, and finding yourself at a loss for words when you watch him bring it to his lips and run his tongue along the seam to close it.

You were here to get away. To kill time. To smoke. Nothing else.

What happened the other night should stay a one time thing. With how your insides keep acting up from the mere thought of it. This was dangerous territory already.

"Your payment, princess." Eddie holds out the freshly rolled joint, doing a little bowing motion as he does. Making you laugh and playfully snatch it from his fingers.

Bringing it to your lips, he pulls out a lighter from the front pocket of his jeans. Leaning forward he flicks it and holds it to the other end, lighting it for you. His eyes on yours as you forget to inhale for half a second, too busy staring back at him. The thick smoke almost making you choke after you’ve come to and inhale; an intensity holding between your gazes.

He’s so close, if you were to remove the joint you could lean in and….

Nope. Not happening. Not tonight.

You quickly move back over to your spot and take a few puffs, praying that it chills whatever tempestuous feelings were burning in your lower belly right now.

The two of you fall into an easy rotation, puffing, passing, Eddie making a joke and you losing it. A peaceful cycle that soon has you forgetting about the earlier events of the day and how you had felt; your nerves now lax, body feeling good. And not just because of the weed, but because of the boy sitting in front of you.

A fact you let yourself feel.

The only thing you allow yourself to feel.

You’re tapping your foot mindless against the bottom of the couch to the metal playing through the van, ignoring the friction it causes against the pant leg of Eddie’s jeans; his leg pressed against yours as the two of you have your limbs spread out.

Your fingers are flipping through a random magazine you’ve found in one of the many piles of junk on the floor. “Who sings this?”

"Corroded Coffin.”

Your head snaps up a little too fast giving you whiplash, as you look up at him—he’s already staring back, how long has he been watching? And have your cheeks always been this warm, or is the thought that he had possibly been watching you for god knows how long that’s making you feel overheated right now?

“This is your band?!”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “I don't see any blood coming from your ears so I take it your majesty approves?"

You make a face, shrugging. "I was swallowing down my vomit actually, was trying to hide it with being nice."

“Mmm.” He replies, his hair covering his smile as he fiddles with the chain connected to his jeans.

It’s an effort to pull your eyes away from him and go back to flipping through the magazine—as if you were doing anything other than looking at the pictures. Your high mind having very little comprehension of the words printed across the flimsy papers.

That comfortable silence spreads between the two of you again, your foot going back to its tapping. Your head doing a little bob along with the beat.

“Was that a jive I just saw?”

Your movements stop, “a jive?” The snort of laughter that comes deep from within your throat should be embarrassing. If it were anyone else in front of you you know you’d do everything in your power to cover it up.

“Who says that?”

“I know many people who say it.”

“Are they 80 and over?”

Eddie shakes his head, his laugh dying down. “You like it, the music?”

“I’ve heard worse.” You shrug nonchalantly. Close the magazine and toss it back in its pile of junk.

“I’ll take it!” His fist pumping in the air in triumph.

Shaking your head you send an eye roll his way. Your heart doing a little leap in your just at how cute you think he looks right now. Your mind working overtime to hone in on the little things that light up his features when he smiles or laughs—and then the little things that don’t matter at all: like how this is your second time here and the first he had scurried around and tried to move his random messes out of the way, to clean it up. But this time around he didn’t even bother, as if a comfortability has already grown between the two of you. You hadn’t run for the hills, already knew what he was about, that this van was a second home to him by the looks—and he knew you wouldn’t care what it looked like. Hadn’t made a fuss the first time so why not let you see him more in his realm?

It makes a weird affection burn in your gut and has you toying with the bottom of your skirt to distract yourself from it.

Just listen to the music. The band. It’s pretty good.

Which isn’t shocking to you in the slightest. It only took you all your school career, and give or take a few years, to realize that Eddie Munson was a lot of things but mediocre was not one of them.

But your mind is racing a mile a minute, unlike the first time, you smoked Eddie’s stash. Which meant that you were the problem, the issue causing your mind to run from the blissful high into difficult feelings and misunderstandings of said feelings.

Go figure.

Your legs are still touching each other. You can feel the bare minimum of his heat against your legs, but it’s enough to add flashbacks of the other night into the mix of your mind. How you could feel the heat from other parts of his body; under you, beside you, against you, inside your mouth.

The tender skin of your bottom lip quickly becomes raw from your teeth, as the memories bombard you. As you grow warmer and warmer. And make the mistake of looking up at him, watching him, staring at him—and then he’s catching you doing just that and you have the urge to ask him if he’s thought about you sense that night, or why he hadn’t called sooner.

Questions with obvious answers.

But your mind is working against you here.

And the last thing you want him to think is that you’re just sitting at home waiting for him to call. Like you’re desperate for it, begging for it. Something you do not do. And was not about to start for Eddie Munson.

“Did you have plans later?” He asks.

Making your brows come together, a confused look on your face as you wonder if you’ve missed something. If he spoke before this and you just didn’t hear because of your internal war.

“The outfit,” he points with a finger, “it’s chic.” A lopsided grin pulls up the corners of his mouth just as you laugh.

“Chic?” You shake your head, “I was at the Country Club with my parents.”

“And you let me steal you away from such fun with the other royals? Honored." His hand splays over his chest.

You make a face, “my mother thinks I’m crawling on my hands and knees back to lover boy." You drop the same nickname Eddie had the other night for your ex, seeing his expression change from it. His smile faltering, fingers brushing at a few loose strands of hair in his face.

“Are you?”

“If I was, would I be here with you?"

"Maybe you needed some devil induced bravery to help you crawl."

"I wouldn't waste a good high on him,” you scoff.

Eddie’s silent for a second too long for your sanity and then he’s saying, “instead you're here wasting it on me."

"It's not a waste.” The words slip out. Come out so naturally that you don’t realize how sentimental of a meaning they have until you see Eddie’s expression. See the softness of it, and how you cannot bear the way your insides feel right now.

What’s the worst thing that can happen from you hooking up with Munson again?

“At least it doesn't have to be.." you’re pulling at your skirt again, can’t bring your eyes up to his as the words hang in the air—an invitation.

"Hitting on me now, princess?” His leg pushes into yours playfully, “who knew you could be so flattering. So charitable.” He teases.

You only look up to scowl at him, because you were not hitting on him—maybe, not really, you didn’t hit on people, you were hit on. But like many things around Munson it had changed, morphing itself into something you don't recognize; something better. You are going to tell him as much, flaunt your Princess status tenfold. But can’t stop looking into his big brown eyes, can’t stop the burning in your stomach going lower lower until it turns into that same lust you felt for him the other night.

And fuck it.

You’ve already dipped your toe over that line once, mine as well put your whole foot in.

"Shut up, Munson.” Your retort is less ice than it is fire, a breathy huff that you mean to sound playful but miss the mark. “Come here,” you hesitate. "Please.”

The beam that spreads across his face is anything but subtle or shy, promptly dropping down to his knees and crawling the short distance to you. A position he stays in even as he brings his lips to yours.

The kiss, his lips, his fingertips at the side of your neck just as heart stopping and pulsating-ly devastating to your insides as last time. A pang of jealousy shoots through your belly at the thought of how many girls he has kissed before you, he’s had to have kissed a couple, a handful maybe, you weren’t this good at kissing if you hadn’t. Kisses didn’t just feel like this, normally. Right?

Or maybe you just weren’t kissing the right people. Person.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to move into the realm of breathless pants and tongues against each other, teeth biting into lips. And unlike last time Eddie doesn’t need an invitation to touch you; his hands go from your neck to your cheeks, your jaw, chin, the back of your skull, and into your hair. The tips of his fingers making a road map of every sensitive spot above your collarbone.

Eventually, thanks to some maneuvering and awkward giggles the two of you are laid on the floor of the van—you on your back, Eddie on his side with his front pressed flush against you. His lips have veered from yours, leaving a path of kisses and nips along your jaw, under it, to your neck where he runs his tongue along a sensitive spot of skin, his lips wrapping around it to suck softly and then sink his teeth into.

A breathy gasp strangled out of you, your hips moving against the air. An imprint of Eddie smirking against your skin from the noise, left behind when he kisses just below the area. Fuck.

“How many–” you swallow, lick your lips, breathless, “how many girls have you kissed like this?”

It’s probably not the right thing to ask right now, but your mind keeps going back to it. That jealousy making your stomach sink as you anticipate his answer, as you dread and wish your body and brain were working together instead of on separate plains of pain and pleasure.

“Uh, a dozen obviously.” He laughs softly against you when you dig your nails into his arm playfully, in replace of the scowl you’d shoot him down with if you could turn your head—or if you wanted him to stop the knee shaking presses of his lips right now, which you’re delirious but not that delirious to stop him. “Only you, princess.”

The information shouldn’t have you soaring any more than you already are, shouldn’t make those jealousy twists get snuffed out by a belly full of butterflies, and flutters that go all the way down to your throbbing clit. But it does and you’re reeling at the sentiment that you’re probably Eddie’s first everything in this sense. In this realm.

It’s not triumph you feel, it’s something softer and dangerously close to affection and attachment that has no business filling your chest with warmth right now.

And instead of feeling the aforementioned feelings, distracting yourself with giving him pleasure—and to hear those beautiful noises from the other night—your hand is moving from his arm to the bulge pressing to your hip.

Your fingers and palm run up his clothed length and pull those delicious breathy grunts from him. No man should sound this good, no sound should have you feeling like you’re melting into the floor.

Your mouth finding Eddie’s in a hungry kiss, a need to swallow down his noises like a drug, needing sedation. You could get addicted to this if you’re not careful.

Your fingers drag themselves up to his belt, try to blindly pull the leather through its buckle, the loops. And just like a repeat of the night before, his hand is there to stop you.

“Gotten shy on me?” You ask with a coyness that makes him give you a ‘not in this lifetime’ look.

“I just want to make it crystal clear that I didn’t bring you here for this.” His tone only holds gentleness, his hand bringing yours up to his mouth to brush a few kisses across your knuckles.

“Even if you did,” your fingers twist a strand of his hair, “I wouldn’t be upset.”

And you mean that. If Eddie had only brought you here for a replay of the other night or something further than that, you know—even if it was against your better judgment—you wouldn’t be too upset about it, or at all. It was hard to be upset with lips like his pulling out smiles and whimpers from you.

But it also means that Eddie had called you because he wanted to see you, to hang out…which is harder for you to grasp than the prospect of only casual hookups between the two to you.

Those Jane Austen feelings back with a vengeance in your chest cavity.

Your answer makes a chuckle echo in his chest. “But,” he’s looking at you with all seriousness within those doe eyes. “Now that we’re–” he motions to your current positions with his hand, “here. I want to return the favor. For the other night.”

Oh?

Oh.

Pressing your lips together, you do your best to hide the excitement that shoots up your spine, nodding in a super-casual-not-too-fast way. “Yeah, okay, yes, totally.”

“Totally?” He mocks you, smirking.

“Totally.”

Then his lips are on yours again without needing further confirmation. The kiss slower this time compared to the last lip lock that made your bottom lip feel like it was inflamed from his teeth. Your mouths move in perfect sync, and if you could figure out a way you know you could get off by just his kiss alone. He moves your hand back to his crotch, giving you back access to his hardness as his hand begins its travel down your chest. Palming your boobs over your white polo, his thumb moving across your nipple, making you whimper. Your chest pushing up into him.

The closer he gets—the further his fingers move along the fabric of your clothes—the anticipation of where you want him, where he wants to be, makes your legs pull together. Thighs in a tight lock, your attempted relief of the pressure on your clit only makes the throbbing worse. You can feel how soaked you are through the cotton of your panties, know that once you feel his fingers slip inside of you it’s going to be game over.

There's a whoosh of air against your thighs from Eddie pushing up the top of your skirt, putting your clothed pussy on display for him. His mouth pulling from yours as he looks down at you and takes you in. The hunger in his eyes turning the brown hues in them black. You’re about to ask him if he wants you to take your underwear off, his fingers slipping past the elastic of them stopping you. His palm warm against your mound.

Eddie runs his middle finger through your folds, voice low and gravelly when he says. “You’re so wet.” All you can do is mewl, bite your already raw lip as you try to keep your hips still, try to hold yourself back from fucking his hand the way you want to. His fingers explore you for a bit, misstepping your throbbing clit each time the tips of his fingers come close to it. Even as you finally let yourself move your hips a fraction of an inch up, he’s still not touching the spot you really need, instead, he’s moving every place you don’t need him. Until he slips a finger inside of you too aggressively, making an “ahh” hiss out of you.

Your face scrunched when he turns to look down at you, halting his actions. Body tense, “did I hurt you?”

He’s never done this before, it’s not new knowledge and yet thanks to your hormone filled haze—and the need to come—you were expecting him to know all the places to touch. To not be as aggressively pushy right from the get-go.

“No,” you sigh, laughing softly. “Sort of, just…can I show you?” You’re nervous he’s going to take it the wrong way. That this is where it’s going to end because it'll be awkward and he’ll be embarrassed or mad or something.

But there you go thinking Eddie is one thing when he’s the exact opposite. The endless surprise of this boy never ceasing to show you why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover—or by its fellow shitty townspeople.

Eddie nods, eyes soft and tentatively looking at you in the same way an excited student looks thrilled to learn from a teacher.

Wasting no time you loop your fingers into the elastic of the cotton covering your pussy, pulling the garment down your legs and tossing it to the side. Moving comfortably back into your lying position, skirt still pushed up, completely showcasing yourself to him. A flutter sinking low into your belly when you watch Eddie’s throat bob from a tight swallow as he looks down at your wet cunt.

And while he watches, stares at you, you’re staring up at him. Watching the hunger and desire to learn—to be taught—displaying itself across his face; your hand moves between your legs, the pad of your index finger putting the lightest of pressers on your clit. The moan you let out has Eddie’s hair falling in your face for half a second as his eyes snap to your face. As he watches your mouth part, brows come together, breaths shaky and weak as you touch yourself. Rubbing slow circles against your throbbing clit, where you wanted, needed to feel him. Where you’ve been throbbing and aching for what felt like hours—days—for him.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he spreads your legs wider, holding it up and against him below your knee so you’re completely open for him. So he can see you run your fingers down between your folds to catch the gathering arousal at your entrance and pull it back up to coat your clit.

You should be talking right now, should be directing him with your words, but you can’t. Have never touched yourself in front of anyone before, never had to, or wanted to. The act of touching yourself strictly permitted for when you were alone in your room at night. Never like this. But you’ve been convinced. Turned over a new leaf in the things you like, enjoy; the way Eddie is watching your fingers, the way he brings his gaze back up so fucking slow to look at your face. To hold eye contact with you as you moan and tremble. That mounting pressure already starting, so fast, so good.

Eddie leans into the small distance of space between your mouths to swallow down one of your moans that comes out at the same time his lips press to yours. “You’re so pretty.” He whispers between kisses. “How many guys have you let watch you like this?”

You whimper, breath hot on his mouth, “none. Only you.”

He’s grinning against your mouth, “you do this at night when you’re alone in your bed?”

“Yes.” Humming, you feel breathless, can feel your hips gyrating against your hand, legs trembling. Know you’re so close. But don’t want to make yourself come. Want Eddie to be the one to make you come, want his fingers to be inside of you when your walls constrict and carry you through that euphoric high.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, princess.” His head lifts back up to look back down at your pussy, the wet sounds of your arousal against your finger and clit filthy.

Have you ever been this wet before? This turned on? Fuck, Eddie Munson.

Without thinking—reeling off of your own need—you grab his hand that's still holding your leg to him. “Put your hand over mine.” Following directions eagerly Eddie does so, places his searing palm atop yours, his index finger resting perfectly against yours; moving along as you go back to stroking your clit. “Like this, slow–ahh–circles.” The last syllables of your words choked out over a moan. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, know you’re probably making a mess on the makeshift carpeting below you.

He copies your movements for one, three, six circles and then you’re snaking your hand away and it’s his finger on your clit. The change in feeling is instantaneous and has your hips stuttering, whines coming out weaker. Your hand gripping the material of his shirt, needing to ground yourself. To remind you that yes, this is reality and not some crazy out of body wet dream.

“Like that?” Eddie asks against your cheek.

“Yes.” You don’t think your moans have ever sounded this wailing, this intense to the point where you’re almost embarrassed at how good you feel right now. How your body is shaking and mewling and reaching out for him for pleasure. In need of it.

This time when he slips a finger into you it’s slow, so good and gentle as he pumps it inside of you, that amplifies the squelching of your wetness. “This okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

He fucks you like that, his middle finger fucking up into you, his thumb brushing against your clit at just the right angle that has you on the verge of seeing stars. You’re so so close, know that if he keeps doing that you’re going to be a goner–

“Wait, what are you doing?” Your brows pull up in confusion as you watch him detach himself from your side, removing his hand from between your thighs. Settling himself between your legs on his knees.

You expect him to start undoing his belt, figure he’s ready to take it further, aren't mad at the thought—but he’s surprising you again. “You got to taste, it’s only fair, princess.” Eddie smirks, situates himself in a comfortable hunching position, and then you’re gasping as he runs the tip of his tongue along your clit. Any rebuttal you could have thought to reply with dead in the water.

“Fuck, Eddie,” there are no missteps like the first time he was down there with his hand. Mimicking the movements you showed him with your fingers with his tongue, with a few added experimental licks and sucks that have your breath caught in your throat. “Ohmygod, and you’ve never done this before?” You curse, feel a breathy laugh fall across your clit. One, then another, finger slipping into you moving in tandem with his tongue.

Only one other guy has gone down on you and it was not as nearly intense or agonizing pleasurable as this—to the point where your thighs are closing in around his head, hands in his hair. Back arching. You feel like a woman crazed, like you had no idea you could feel this searing, pleasure this good.

You mean to say something, to warn him, to say any words that you can dredge up from the crevice of your dysfunctional brain; but all you can do is scream as you come against his mouth, as your pussy convulses around his fingers. Your hips rolling up into him, thighs shaking, body spasming as his name falls from your lips like a sinful prayer.

“Munson,” you whine, pulling at his chin once you’ve come down enough to function. Once you can finally see something other than the white bursts of light across your vision. Eddie’s tongue still running along your sensitive clit to the point of oversensitivity, that you have to pull him up.

His chin and cheeks are damp, bangs pressed to his forehead. Find yourself laughing at his tousled hair—no thanks to your fingers. There’s a cheshire grin stretched across his face as he runs the back of his hand over his mouth. Crawling up your body to hover over you and kiss you, a whimper coming from your throat as you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Wow.” You breathe, smile over at him as he rolls back to his side beside you. A palm resting over where your heart is still beating a mile a minute.

“I’ll take it.” Your laughs are in unison as a look of triumph flashes in those big eyes.

“If only you were that much of an eager learner in school, might have graduated, joined me on the road to success.” You pick.

“Not even seconds after I make her come and she’s already wounding me.” His chuckle muffled by the press of another kiss to your lips. “Better than lover boy?” Eddie teases.

“Can’t compare something that never happened.”

He makes a disgusted noise from the back of his throat, “no wonder you left him for the steerage.”

You hum nodding, turning your head to the side to press a kiss to his throat. Would it be too sentimental of you to tell him that he’s better than anyone you’ve been with? That no one has ever made you come that hard, not even yourself. That you can feel your wetness rolling down your ass cheeks and inner thighs from how wet he made you.

It could be a mood killer, sentiment isn't even your thing.

Plus it’s his turn now. Fair’s fair right?

There’s no complaint from Eddie as you move on top of him, roll your hips against his hardness, the seam of his jeans making you shudder from still feeling over-sensitive, as you move down the length of his body to rid him of his jeans and take him into your mouth.

“Here.” There’s a cassette tape gripped in his hand, the back of his head resting on the headrest of the driver's seat. You’re parked in the same spot he picked you up earlier, a block from your house. “Since you liked it so much,” he smiles.

Sentiment. Fuck.

Your smile is too cheesy and girlish for you to wrap any logistics into your head about it just being a tape, as you take it from and see his band name in black marker at the top. Your stomach fluttering. A simple gift that's not a big deal. You have to remind yourself as you try not to lean over and kiss him on that beautiful mouth of his.

“Here,” you say as you pull off your underwear and drop them into his lap. “A gift for a gift.”

You don’t let yourself stick around to see the heart-palpating look in his eyes as he grips the fabric in his hand and laughs, shouting “gold doubloons could never compare!” out of the open window. Making you press a finger to your lips, shooting daggers at him through the windshield as you pick up the pace towards your house. Trying to quiet your giggles and wipe the big girlish grin on your face.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #heavy metal love !

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 21: Lingerie

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 12,750

Warnings: Afab!reader, lingerie (male wearing), rimming & anal fingering, oral sex (all male receiving), prostate massage/milking, I don't believe I used any gendered language in this one but if something slipped my radar I apologize

A/N: I know I said I was going to wait until these were all done to start posting them but as I was looking at my progress on the prompt list I decided to just say fuck it, we ball. These probably aren't going to come quite back to back (heh) but there shouldn't be too big a gap between them either. Basically your take away here should be to never trust anything I say lol

⭐

The taverns of Mondstadt are a great place to hide in plain sight as long as you’re a regular. New faces stand out even in a crowd but an old familiar face can easily be overlooked if you play your cards right. Don’t draw too much attention to yourself. Don’t talk to any other patrons beyond what was strictly necessary. Mind your business. It’s quite easy, really. Anyone can do it, even the Captain of the Cavalry who’s charming smiles and dashing good looks far precede his reputation amongst the knights. 

Kaeya, for his part, is exceptionally talented when it comes to such games and that makes the sleight of hand all the easier to pull off. He knows how to keep his cards close to his chest while at the same time showing any curious onlookers exactly what they wanted to see. What they expected. It was a matter of simple misdirection when you got right down to it, but a soundly effective one. He wasn’t one to disappoint a captivated audience if he could help it, after all. 

You understood this to be one of many on the gradually growing list of things you liked about him, and it was at least partially what made playing with him so damn fun. Sometimes it felt like you couldn’t get enough of this titillating subterfuge. 

“Looks like I win again.”

Consideringly, you glance over the cards he’s set down on the table in a near perfect, fanning arch. It did certainly appear to be a winning play for him which meant another loss for you to tally up on your side. That was fine though. You weren’t exactly betting all your chips on the opening act when you still had the real show to look forward to later. This was just something to kill the time. The true fun would start afterwards and you were sure to come out on top, victorious as well as properly satiated in the end. That, at least, was a certainty rather than a gamble. 

“So it seems,” You agree, giving him a quick smile. “You’re having awfully good luck tonight, Captain. You wouldn���t happen to be breaking any rules to stack the odds in your favor, would you?” 

He laughs like it’s an absurd suggestion. Like he wasn’t known for doing just that with enough regularity to become a noticeable trend to anyone who knew him beyond a surface level acquaintance. The average citizen wouldn’t recognize it for what it was. Even the knights working directly under him in the Favonious Cavalry would only suspect it but they’d never know for sure and they probably didn’t grasp the full scope of it either. Kaeya was good at playing the role of a harmless philanderer, yes, but unfortunately for him so were you. 

As one of the sole members of the specialized intelligence scouts that reported directly to Captain Eula, you were just as adept at reading people and taking on various roles as he was. In many ways you were a glorified spy, often going undercover to infiltrate enemy lines — usually that of treasure hoarders and their ranks. The only real difference between you and him was that covert sting operations were actually in your job description. Kaeya couldn’t say the same, yet that didn’t stop him from taking on many of the same kinds of tasks you would have been assigned. He could have easily given you a real run for your money if he’d wanted to. 

You felt relatively certain that, sooner or later, he would have been recruited into the Reconnaissance Company just the same as you if only that unfortunate situation with his adoptive brother hadn’t happened. With a captain's seat empty and needing to be filled, the answer had been an obvious one. 

But fate, as they say, weaves itself into the most curious of patterns. It wasn’t really your place to speculate any further than that, though it is hard not to let your mind wander sometimes when there were so many ‘what if’s and ‘could have been’s floating around him.  

Thinking the two of you would have made quite the team in another lifetime, you lean forward to brace your elbows on the table. Deliberately casual and unassuming. That was the name of the game while the rest of the tavern went about its business, blissfully unaware and none the wiser to the subtle foreplay being exchanged right in plain sight for anyone to see if they’d just stop long enough to actually look. 

Some would have called this risky but you thought it really quite tantalizing for a first course appetizer. 

Kaeya does the same, mirroring the motion, except he reaches out to curl his fingers around the humble pile of mora sitting in the center to claim it for himself. As he pulls it over to his side, his open shirt shifts with the movement. You just catch a glimpse of rich red lace when it barely peeks out from behind crisp white cotton and your pulse starts to speed up. It was bold even for him but the heightened chance of discovery only further feeds into your own excitement for what was to come. What it suggested.

“I don’t need to stoop so low as to intentionally rig the game, my friend.” He tells you quietly under all the wordless din of drinking and merrymaking. It would have been easy to miss had you not been so fine tuned to the presence sitting across from you that you may as well have been the only two in the room at that moment. “I’m just lucky enough to be enjoying a nice winning streak this evening, that’s all. To be honest I’m a little hurt you’d lobby such a baseless accusation against me. You know what they say about sore losers …” 

“I’m sure you’ll get over it. What’s a little friendly banter between colleagues after all, right?” He chuckles at that, and your smile quickly turns into a grin. “I’ll admit, your ability to turn things around is quite remarkable though. Wasn’t it just last week when you suffered a resounding defeat at my hands playing Eilfern? Now here you are winning at Whist as if you’ve never lost a game in your life and you don’t still owe me from last time.” 

The way Kaeya looks at you over the table speaks volumes, but no one on the outside looking in could ever guess at the effect it was having on you by the way he casually shifts in his seat. He doesn’t look like someone with any real investment in the conversation, neither the game nor this ongoing exchange with you. It all appears very lackadaisical and unimportant to him but you weren’t fooled. You knew better than that. 

“Oh, you’ll get what you won from me last time. No question about that. Don’t tell me you’re in such dire need that you’re getting desperate for it after only a few days?” 

If you were the type, you would’ve been blushing straight up to your ears. “Need I remind you, Captain, that I wouldn’t be amicable to playing these card games with you if I didn’t expect my winnings in a timely fashion.” 

“So you are chomping at the bit.” The sound of his laughter is like the soft caress of silk on your skin as he leans forward as if to share a confidential word with you. Either a secret or something important that isn’t meant for any of the other patrons to overhear, but all it does is provide you with another brief glimpse of the lingerie hidden away behind his clothes when his shirt pulls open a bit more at the subtle stretch. 

It’s entirely calculated from the motion itself to the way his clothes are too tight in some places and concealingly loose in others. The fur embellishment on his capelet and the long hair that slips forward over his opposite shoulder thoroughly saw to it that no one else besides you would be able to get a good look at the delicate lace pulled taut over his chest. The people sitting nearest to your little corner table might have been able to make out a curious shock of red on the Captain’s otherwise cool toned attire but they’d never be able to tell for sure what it was. Only you were privileged with the knowledge and you subconsciously lick your lips at the tawdry show he was putting on. 

This was something of a routine between the two of you at this point. A tradition of sorts. It was impossible to say when it had actually started or where it had escalated to this level of intimate favors exchanged under the guise of gambling wagers but you were immensely glad for it. You won at Eilfern the last time you’d met up and you’d told him you wanted to see him in lingerie. Before that he’d gotten to finger you for what felt like hours, until the sheets were totally soaked underneath you and you’d begged for it; babbling unendingly until he finally fucked you proper and much to your sobbing relief. 

Since it looked like he’d won this round, you wondered what he would choose to do to you when next you got together for your little game nights. The thought alone is enough to almost make you squirm in your seat. 

“As always you are much too full of yourself, Captain Kaeya. A single night of wins goes straight to your head and further inflates that already oversized ego of yours.” 

“Really now, you wound me.” He doesn’t look at all hurt or even very put out as he pulls himself up and leans back into his chair again. Like a perfectly placed prop, his open shirt slides into place to leave only the usual keyhole showing off the coppery brown skin across his pectorals. Not so much as a hint of red in sight anymore. “It was not my intention to leave you wanting and waiting. I’ll pay up, just as we agreed. We can’t have it being said that I don’t keep up my end of a bargain, can we?” 

You pin him with a pointed, deliberate look. “I would certainly think you’d care about your reputation enough to do that much.” 

Inclining his chin in agreement, Kaeya makes a sweeping gesture toward the back of the tavern. “Then by all means, let’s find somewhere a bit more quiet to continue this conversation.” 

Suppressing the urge to smile, you move to stand and he follows suit. The way Kaeya unfolds himself from his chair is something noteworthy, all long legs and perfect stately posture. Some men of his height manage to look gangly or uncoordinated but he is decidedly neither of those. It’s like even at rest he’s so thoroughly perfected the performance that it imbues everything he does right down to the most benign. 

You can’t help but wonder how you must look standing together as he comes around the table to flank you. He’s left the pile of mora behind, more than enough to cover the tab and a generous tip on top of that. The owner and sole bartender of the establishment is likely the only person who has any real notion of something going on between the two of you but his silence on the matter was effectively guaranteed. To everyone else it likely just looked like a friendly, casual meeting between two knights. That wasn’t so strange, especially not for someone like Kaeya who enjoyed so much popularity amongst the citizenry. He was on good terms with just about everyone. 

You, on the other hand, were much more of an unknown to the general populace. It came with the job description. But no one even gives you a second glance now as you make your way towards the back of the establishment where the secondary exit was located in a cramped little alcove. At a glance it would look like you were leaving to go somewhere else and the curiosity of any nosy eavesdroppers would’ve already been safely satisfied by the exchange at the table. Kaeya wouldn’t have suggested taking leave if he’d even so much as suspected someone was paying more attention to the two of you than simple passing interest, and you were likewise certain that it was safe to make your move for much the same reason. 

The rear exit you make your way towards is located directly next to the rickety, well used staircase that leads up to the second floor where the rooms for rent were housed. It was both to give traveling merchants and passing tourists an easy way out so they didn’t have to go all the way to the front, and to ensure an easy traffic flow. You’re pleased to find the coast completely clear despite the late hour, and you take a sharp turn to climb the stairs with Kaeya right on your heels. The weight of his presence just behind you is as comforting as it is full of the velveteen promise of what was yet to come. On one hand you knew you could trust him at your back in the platonic colleague sense. But on the other, much more pressing hand, you also knew you could trust him to give you a night to remember. He always did.

Unfortunately for him — or fortunately, depending on how you wanted to look at it — you were much more interested in blowing his mind tonight. He’d left you feeling punchdrunk and floating in the ether last time and now it was your turn to get a little payback. 

You can hardly contain your excitement as you reach the landing and make your way down the row of doors until you reach the last room sequestered in the far corner. Arrangements had been made earlier in the evening when you’d first arrived, when it was still slow and not likely to raise any eyebrows; and the heavy wooden door swings open with a quick turn of the key given to you by the owner. Kaeya lets you enter first then steps in behind you, pulling it shut and locking it again in quick succession. No one would be interrupting you any time soon, barring any unexpected emergencies cropping up at the worst possible time. 

“So,” He says, unfalteringly casual about it as he leans back against the shut door. “Regarding the prize I owe you. I can take a guess, I’m sure, but what exactly did you have in mind with this?” 

Quickly spinning around, you step into him and close the distance, your body pressing flush to his in one smooth motion. You, impatient? Never. “You’ve already kept me waiting long enough, don’t you think Captain? Let me see you first and then I’ll decide what I’m going to do with you.” 

Bringing your hand up, you reach for one side of his shirt and he tips his chin down, attentively watching as you peel it away. You’re afforded a much better look at the brassiere now, the thin lace of the cup stretched over his broad chest in a way that was not dissimilar to that of your own, although it lacked much of the same weight and fullness. His figure was far from feminine but that didn’t make it look any less appealing in your eyes. The color is especially striking against his rich skin tone which surprises you slightly when you were so used to seeing him in his signature blue. Who would’ve guessed.

You pull your attention back up to his face again, brow quirked in question. “What made you go with red?”

The smirk that tugs at his mouth tells you exactly why. “I’m afraid you never specified a color. I just assumed it was up for me to decide and you didn’t particularly care either way.” He puts his head to the side, looking oh so very smug and pleased with himself. “Why, don’t you like it? And I spent so much time picking this out too.” 

Trying and failing to conceal your smile, you lower your gaze back to his chest. You can even see the darker bud of his nipple showing through the delicate lacework and it looks undeniably inviting like this, trapped behind a thin layer of fabric yet still in plain sight. Idly, you reach up to tease it with a featherlight brush of your fingertips. Was this just a small taste of what men felt when they were graced with seeing a woman in alluring lingerie? If so then you were certainly starting to understand the fascination. 

“Rather than if I like it or not, I think the better question is how did you feel wearing this under your clothes out there? Did it excite you, Kaeya?” 

He subtly shifts against you, reaching for your other hand. You let him take it without a fuss and he rather pointedly directs it to the front of his pants. He makes you cup him, curling your fingers around the bulge there, and your next breath comes in a quick little gasp. It was far from completely filled out but he was getting there fast. 

“Is this answer enough for you?” 

“Oh my,” You relent, sighing softly when he twitches and grows against your fingers. His pants were already so tight you didn’t think his placket would be able to restrain a full erection if you didn’t get them off him soon, and time was clearly ticking. You’d have to move this along but it’s impossible to resist the urge to tease him just a little bit for his eagerness. “You’re always so cool and composed, Captain. I had no idea you were this bothered. I’d have never guessed you were hiding away such an excitable prick in your trousers. How do you manage to make it look so easy?” 

“Plenty of practice.” 

It’s his turn to step into you now. He casually walks you back, using his greater size and weight to guide you until you’re distantly aware of the waiting bed sitting stationary just behind you. The room is not a very large one but it serves its purpose perfectly well. 

Eager to see the rest of him, you bring your hands together to fumble with his belts and then the fastens on the waist cinching band around his middle. Kaeya shrugs out of his capelet with a quick flick of his hand while you work on buckles and latches, the distant rustle of it hitting the floor sending a quick shiver up your spine. Then his fingers come up to touch the underside of your chin and tip your face towards him. You gladly rock forward, going on your toes to accommodate the height difference and accept the kiss he bends to place on your mouth. 

Working together, you get him undressed one layer at a time. His corset is quickly discarded, the flouncy white shirt soon joining it followed by the tighter, clinging black top underneath. He looks so good standing there naked from the waist up, in nothing but a bra that had quite clearly been tailored to fit the broad expanse of his chest's width and the fingerless gloves he chooses to leave on for the time being. So good in fact that you almost allow yourself to get distracted. Side tracked with questions and exploratory hands, eager to map out this new take on familiar territory through your sense of touch. But then he moves to kick off his boots, hands already at the waistband of his slacks to make your own excitement ratchet up another notch, and you promptly forget what you’d wanted to do. 

Watching him take his pants off is always entertaining in its own right, because his legs are so long and the material so form fitted it takes a bit of shimmying on his part to get them pulled down. This time is even better than usual though, because more and more of the bottom half to the lingerie is revealed the more he peels them away. You're a little surprised when you first glimpse the top of the garter belt, the same shade of red and just as finely made as the brassiere, but you don’t quite have the presence of mind to pretend to be scandalized by it. Not when it was easily one of the most mouth watering sights you’d ever seen. 

Kaeya’s waist was already small even without the corset there to keep it in check and the crimson band hugged around it just makes it look even more gracefully svelte. Decidedly grabbable. You couldn’t wait to do just that, your fingers practically itching for it while he steps out of his pants. 

The matching panties were, predictably, much too thin and flimsy to properly contain his cock but they do a valiant job trying. This is the only part of him that looks in any way out of place or disheveled so you had to give credit where it was due to whoever had done the tailoring. His balls were half spilling out of one side and his swelling length was tenting the front of the material enough to pull the whole garment askew. But his confidence remains unshaken and he merely reaches down to try and adjust himself without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it, although it does very little in the way of good. 

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you step forward to touch him. Gently lay your hands along his narrow waist and give it a squeeze to bring his attention up. “Don’t worry about it. You look amazing.” 

“Please, I don’t look anywhere near as good as you would in this thing.” He laughs, low and sultry, the sound so edged with silken promise it makes your loins curl in anticipation. “I admit I didn’t really understand why you wanted me to dress up like this at first. That’s usually the sort of request a man makes in this kind of arrangement, no? But it’s actually not so bad, other than …” 

Rather pointedly, he tries to nudge his testes back into the underwear but of course it doesn’t work. You share another quiet laugh with him, giving Kaeya a wry grin to accompany the finger you suggestively slip into the waistband of his panties. 

“Now you know how we feel when you start making unreasonable demands of us. Unfortunately for you, this kind of underwear isn’t really meant to hold anything in.” You give the material a quick tug and let it go so that it lightly smacks back into his hip. “What you need is something with a little more coverage to really hold you in place, Kaeya. Maybe a waist high pair with mesh so you can still show off that pretty cock of yours.” 

“Oh,” He breathes out, evidently liking that idea. “I’ll remember to bring you along the next time I decide to go shopping for panties then.” 

You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face as you lean into him, dragging your hands up his sides to palm along his ribcage. His skin is so smooth and creamy, you could get lost in just touching him like this for hours on end if only time and duty would permit it. “Promise?” 

“Yes, you little pervert.” He murmurs, his tone growing hushed and thin. “I promise.” 

Bending at the waist, he kisses you again. Slow and steady even when your hunger clashes with his and doubles the weighty sexual tension in the room to leave both of you all but trembling with pent up need. You have all night though, and you don’t want to rush it. Especially not when he looked so damn good like this. Tall and lean, appropriately muscular in the places one would expect a knight in his prime to be, and yet delightfully petite in others. Kaeya was not an overly large man by any stretch of the imagination but his innate masculinity was undeniable. Even like this, even wearing the sort of lingerie meant to compliment a woman’s figure, to hug curves and emphasize certain assets, there was an air about him that was all man. 

Something as simple as lingerie couldn’t take that away from him and, although it perhaps wasn’t quite what the maker had intended, it was most definitely showing off his assets. 

Abruptly you realize he’s reaching for the front of your slacks and you pull back from his mouth, giving his fingers a quick, playful swat. “Hey, now. This is my payout from our bet so that means I get to call the shots, right?” 

A soft hum of amusement. The knowing twitch at the corner of his mouth that pulls his smirk a little wider. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. You should have expected as much from him. 

“Of course. Your wish is but my command. I just don’t think it’s very fair that I’m practically naked and you get to keep all your clothes on, that’s all.” 

“Hmm, and yet I don’t think that’s dissuading you by the looks of it.” You murmur, sending his straining cock a slow, pointed glance. Was that a tiny wet stain starting to form, bleeding through the lacy material? He was practically begging for it at this point and you were so very eager to give it to him. 

Trailing your sights a little lower, you reach down to tauntingly flick at the dangling garter clasp over his toned thigh. Kaeya’s twitching length eagerly flexes behind the thin barrier that tries its best to contain him at the close proximity of your hand, pushing the material further out from his pelvis. You could probably guess why he’d forgone the hose his garter belt should have hooked to but you were still a bit disappointed at their absence. His legs were so long and lean, firm from years spent atop a horse but densely packed with muscle. He would have looked stunning in them. 

“Didn’t have enough time to find yourself a pair of stockings, Captain?” 

He issues a low, breathy laugh even as he tries to subtly shift his weight from one foot to the other, attempting to angle his cock towards your hand. You’re quick to pull it away though, uninterested in giving him even that simple satisfaction or folding to his needy little demands just yet. Soon, but not yet.  

“I thought about it,” He says, obediently stilling again now that it was clear his bid wasn’t going to work. “But I’m unfortunately not half as well versed in these matters as you seem to be giving me credit for. I wasn’t sure what you would like and, more importantly, I didn’t know what would fit properly. There were so many options to choose from and I’d already made quite enough of a spectacle of myself, don’t you think?” 

“Did you go to the shop I told you about?” At his nod, you reach out again. Touch fingertips to the tight muscle running up his thigh and lightly draw your nails across it to make his breath come out in a tiny huff. “Then your secret is safe with them. I’d trust that dressmaker with my very life. I’m certain she would have helped you without any judgment or snide remarks.” 

“Dully noted.” 

You’re obviously distracting him quite a bit but Kaeya still manages to find the wherewithal to drag his attention slowly down your legs, like he was half remembering, half imagining how they would look without your pants in the way. He doesn’t make an attempt at wrestling control from you though, nor does he start throwing his greater weight around even though he very well could. In truth, he is perfectly compliant and malleable for you like this. Those were the parameters of the game, after all, and if there was one thing Kaeya could be trusted with it was his word. 

The agreement at the offset of this arrangement was that the winner took all while the loser paid up in full, no questions asked. You’d initially been wary to agree, anticipating him to stack the odds in his favor just so he could play out whatever pigheaded fantasies that seemed to plague the minds of men, but that had not been the case. Not only was he far more inclined towards soft, drawn out encounters of a rather tender persuasion, he was also perfectly amenable to taking orders too and he never cheated. As far as you could tell he really was just the type of person who craved intimacy with another but could only feel truly comfortable with a set of rules in place to give it structure. Almost like … it was almost like he feared giving too much of himself to a lover. Of saying too much, revealing too much. 

Playing it out this way would allow him to step back before things got too serious and he crossed a line he either wouldn’t or couldn’t bring himself to cross, as unwilling as he was unable to take that risk and find out what existed just beyond. It gave him the option of temporary companionship without any of the expectations that came with a traditional coupling. Perhaps it would have been sad had it not been exactly the same for you. Glorified spies weren’t exactly famous for their long life expectancies, you know. 

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you slide your hand inward and brush a light touch against the darker skin of his ballsack. His chest rises with a quiet hitch, hard nipples cutting up into the material of the bra as his one visible eye takes on a heavy lidded quality. It’s clear he’d been eagerly awaiting your touch and now that he’s got it a stiff edge starts to creep into his posture. 

Smiling up at him, you gently tease the weight of his testes where the skimpy underwear can’t quite seem to keep them contained. “It’s a shame I didn’t wear stockings either today, otherwise I could have given them to you. I mean it, Kaeya. You’d look so good in a nice pair of thigh highs.” Still fondling the silky flesh in your hand, you lean up to swipe a quick tongue over one tightly coiled nipple through flimsy lace. His lashes flutter for a brief moment and then he seems to regain his bearings, looking down at you like you hung the very moon and the stars in the night sky. Like he would do anything you could possibly ask of him in that moment. “Not to worry though, Captain. We’ll get you sorted out soon enough. For now though …” 

You give his balls a gentle, coaxing tug and he obediently shuffles forward half a step. It’s hard not to grin, seeing the kind of power he lets you hold over him in private like this. 

“Why don’t you give me a spin and let me see the back?” 

An almost affronted sound bursts out of him, as much a throaty laugh as it is a question at where your thoughts were headed. To his credit he doesn’t protest or act embarrassed about it though, and you simply let your hand slip away from his testicles when he moves to turn around. 

You’re not particularly surprised to find that the reverse of the garment is just as skimpy as the front. It’s hardly any wonder that such flimsy underwear can’t hold him in place, and you find yourself giggling as you slip a finger into the thin strip of fabric running between the cheeks of his tight little ass. Although hardly practical in terms of everyday wear, this was in many ways exactly what you’d been hoping for. 

“I have to be honest, Kaeya. I half expected you to go for something much more modest and reserved than this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you belonged in a brothel rather than on top of a horse leading the cavalry to victory.” 

“Hah. Do I really seem the shy type to you?” His response is edged in mirth and something much thicker, something that darkens his usually flirtatious tone. A challenge, you think, and it brings yet another smile to your face. 

“No, you don’t. Which is precisely why I think you deserve a reward for not disappointing me.” 

He starts to draw breath, already formulating a no doubt witty remark on the tip of his silver tongue, but it audibly catches when you curl your finger inward. Find the tight pucker of his hole and just brush against it. The tension running through his body abruptly doubles and then triples, becoming some almost tangible, vibrating thing. You can feel it bleeding into you through the contact even for as brief as it is, and you lightly rub the pad of that digit over his entrance again. Just testing the waters. Seeing how amenable he was to this type of play before you pushed your luck any further. 

Evidentially frozen to the spot, Kaeya just stands there for a long, harrowing beat of uncertainty. You’re sure that’s what it must be. But he manages to recover quickly enough, seems to shake off the surprise gripping his lungs. He hesitates and then gingerly pushes back, surprising you more than just a little bit. You’d teased this part of him in passing before but not like this. Not with the suggestion or the context of true penetration involved. 

There’s no denying it’s presence now though and your opposite hand instinctively comes up to hook over his shoulder, both to hold him in place and to gently nudge him down on your fingers again. 

“Oh, Kaeya,” You breathe out, flicking over his hole with a light back and forth gesture. Back and forth, back and forth, up and then down. “Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of reward?” 

“Even if I’m not, I'm certain you’ll prep me for it, won’t you?”  

Cheeky. That’s what he is. 

Giving his ass one final, lingering pass of your finger, you withdraw completely to grab a pinching tight handful of one cheek and offer it a quick jostle for good measure. “You’re right about that. Why don’t you be a good boy and get on the bed for me?”  

A quick, playful swat to his behind gets him in gear. He slowly turns back around to face you with a quiet, throaty laugh and you glance down as he moves to step past you. Something not unlike delight lights up within your chest at the way his cock eagerly bounces within the confines of his panties, the bleeding wet stain obvious now. It was hard to say what, exactly, he was expecting you to do next but he doesn’t question it. Doesn’t get huffy or roll out the masculine grandstanding. Just obediently steps up to the bed so he can climb on top, somehow still so poised and elegant even while wearing women’s lingerie with his balls hanging out of one side. So much so that it looks almost second nature to him, in a way. Yes, a reward was certainly due. He’d be in for a real treat here in a minute. 

Thinking back on the last time you’d fooled around and the absolute dripping mess he’d made of you, you decide that payback is indeed a bitch. 

“Like this?” He asks, posing like a tawdry slut on his hands and knees with his firm ass in the air. Some men may have looked ridiculous and laughable trying for sultry like that, but Kaeya somehow manages to pull it off. Between the svelte arch of his back, the way his narrow waist gradually tapers up to broad shoulders and the coquettish way he looks back at you, it’s clearer than ever that he knew how to put on a show. Even the heavy weight of his erection dragging at the paper thin garment trying to hold him in isn’t enough to make him look silly or awkward, and it probably would have made you green with envy had you not known with absolute certainty that your stake on him had already been claimed. This wasn’t a competition. 

“Not quite what I had in mind but it’ll do.” 

Stepping into the space between his feet where they dangle over the edge, you hook your finger into the red fabric running up his ass and tug it aside. His hole is dark and smooth, not unlike his ballsack in its silken appearance, and ever so slightly raised from your earlier minstrations that had only teased the muscle, not tested it. You’re distantly aware of him tensing up as you bend to get closer, opening your mouth to unfurl your tongue, but you don’t pause long enough to allow him a chance at protest. 

The first pass over his entrance makes Kaeya jolt like you’d electrocuted him, a tiny sound of startlement escaping his mouth. The second makes him hiss a soft expletive under his breath, and a third has him huffing out the faintest whimper you’ve ever heard. He shifts on top of the bed then, twisting his upper body to look back at you with his uncovered eye. Even from where you’re busy tonguing his asshole, you can clearly make out the fluster dancing across his face and it fills you with warm, fluttering delight. 

“I know you’re in charge here but … you don’t have to do that on my account.”

You come up for a fresh breath, pinning him with a saccharine sweet look. “What, you mean like how even when you don’t have to go down on me you do it anyway? Oh, I know. This is just a warm up though so let me have my fun, okay?” 

With a quick wink you swoop back down to press the flat of your tongue against his hole, swirling the wrinkled muscle to lathe it in saliva and encourage it to loosen up. He lets out another huffy breath, sounding like he isn’t quite sure what to do with this yet, how to accept it, but he still makes an attempt to relax into the sensation anyway. Resigned to his fate, evidently. Not that he seemed to find it entirely disagreeable, given the way you can see his toes flexing just at the peripheral of your vision, but you strongly suspected this was a first for him. 

Good. The less he expected what was coming the more explosive the final results were sure to be. Considering the mess he’d made of you last time he was going to be lucky if you didn’t turn him inside out before the night was through. 

Gripping his cheeks with both hands now and holding them spread apart, you lean into your work with renewed enthusiasm. You’re intentionally sloppy with it, letting yourself freely slobber over his hole and taint to ensure he was thoroughly coated before you moved on. This wasn’t something you wanted to rush anyway, far too keen on savoring the taste of him to do that, but with your greater objective in mind you especially wanted to err on the side of caution. One could never be too wet and lubed up, and you were sure Kaeya was going to agree with that by the time you were finished with him. 

And he groans so prettily when you dip your tongue into the center of his pucker, just breaching his body, that you have to do it again. And again. Fucking into him like this makes Kaeya twitch and subtly writhe, his breaths coming quicker and shorter as he weakly rolls his hips back to meet you. That he seems to struggle between thrusting out with his cock or riding your tongue with his ass is decidedly charming in its own right, and it only encourages you to keep going. To lap at him more vigorously, to drool more copiously until it feels vaguely like you’re eating out a particularly juicy cunt. It wasn’t often you managed to truly surprise him so you were happy to take advantage of this opportunity while you had it. 

Burying your face as far into his ass as you can, you seal your lips around his twitching entrance and gently suckle. Kaeya pulls in a sharp, vaguely frazzled breath in response but still instinctively arches his back to better present himself to you, plainly offering his hole up to your mouth. It may have been a brand new sensation for him, one he didn’t yet know how to process or brace against, but that clearly doesn’t make it any less physically satisfying and that pleases you a great deal. 

The previously tight ring of muscle quickly becomes raised and puffy under your attention but you don’t stop until his whimpering groans have turned pitchy with his growing need. That was exactly how you wanted him. Desperate for stimulation that was a bit more substantial, more meaningful, and you finally pull back with a loud, wet smack of your lips some moments later. A quick glance at the sloppy state of his puckered hole has you grinning from ear to ear, and you give Kaeya another quick swat to his raised behind as you straighten up. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Captain? Do you like when I go down on your slutty little ass?” 

He quietly seethes, offering you a short lived but no less plaintive shake of his behind. The motion is stiff and halting, like he didn’t want to give in to the urge but couldn’t quite stop himself from doing so. But he immediately grows stills again, panting softly to make his shoulders rise and fall with the quickened inhale-exhales of arousal. “Don’t tell me you really plan on holding out on me if I don’t go along with the ‘slut’ routine …?” 

“Of course not. You can tell me to stop at any point and we’ll decide where to go from there. That’s one of our rules, isn’t it?” Failing to keep the mischief out of your voice, you reach between his legs to tug the panties aside in the front too. The weight of his balls seems glad to slide free of their lacy prison and his cock practically springs out, so stiff and leaking sticky precum that he hisses quietly in response. You feel resoundingly victorious as you finally wrap your fingers around that straining, aching length and give it a tauntingly halfhearted tug. Even for as minuscule as the friction is, he still weakly keens like it’s the best thing he’s felt in a very long time. “Just look at you. Do you really feel like anything other than a slut right now? Dressed like this and with your ass in the air … be honest, Kaeya.” 

The way his cock jumps in your hand and dribbles more beading clear fluid from the tip is answer enough. He could have kept his silence and it wouldn’t have made any difference to you. 

But your words hit their intended target straight on, and he gives a wholly unintentional jolt that makes the bed quietly creak. Perhaps embarrassed by his subconscious reaction or unbearably turned on by it, Kaeya groans low in his throat and presses his face into the bedding to muffle his response. “Do you seriously need to ask? You know I do … but you just want to hear me say it, isn’t that right?” 

“You got it. Remember all those filthy things you made me say the last time we were together?” 

His head suddenly comes up, a disbelieving guffaw punching out of him. “Is that what this is? Revenge?” 

“Something like that.” You shrug your shoulders, as innocent as can be when he twists around to look back at you again. “I just like to think that all is fair in love and war, I guess. You started it and now I’m rebalancing the playing field so to speak. That and … I do so enjoy seeing you on your hands and knees, you know.”

Kaeya’s expression turns wry at that but he doesn’t immediately snap back with some cute little remark. Instead he seems to think about it for a quick moment and then, surprising you and delighting you in equal measure, he suddenly smirks like he’s just realized he’s holding a winning hand. “Fine. I’m certainly not opposed to being on the receiving end, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. Do your worst. Let’s see if you can make me say it.” 

That initial feeling of pleased bewilderment quickly vanishes, replaced by a simmering heat low in your gut as you mirror the look on his face with a sly grin of your own. “Is that how you want to play it? Gonna’ be a little brat for me?” 

“Only if you think you can handle it.” 

“Smart ass.” Suppressing the urge to laugh, you pull back from him and straighten up with another sound slap across his upturned cheek. “Get on your back for me. Let’s see how long you can keep up that attitude.” 

“Oooh, I like where this is going.” 

It takes everything you have no to roll your eyes at his obvious wheedling while he gets turned over. Clearly he thought he could out maneuver you, somehow, if he just held onto his usual mask of sauve surety for long enough but you were sure you could rip it away from him with relative ease. For better or worse, not many men could keep their wits about them when faced with what you had in mind for him. 

Ignoring his pointed, haughty looks of challenge, you take a moment to disrobe down to your underwear so that the both of you were in a similar state of undress. Mainly because it was getting a bit warm in the cramped, stuffy room and also because it would make getting situated together that much smoother. 

You finally join him on the bed another moment later and Kaeya keenly watches as you crawl closer, smiling like the cat that ate the canary when you move to kneel between his legs. He was so sure of himself. So confident. That wasn’t going to do him much good in the long run though, and you take a moment to get comfortable before reaching out to palm along his strong calves. 

His cock had started to gradually flag in the interim, resting across his lower belly now, but you could tell it was just one caress away from springing right back to life again. All that pent up need to cum was going to be his undoing. 

“I’m waiting.” He drawls, idly toying with a long strand of his hair. “After the way you were talking, I expected - -“ 

Hunching over his pelvis, you lean down to lick a sudden, wet stripe up the underside of his cock. Whatever he’d wanted to say lodges in his throat with a hardly dignified grunt, his uncovered eye widening in obvious surprise as satisfaction lights up within your chest like a smoldering ember. He looked a bit startled, and a lot disarmed. The fact he hadn’t expected that either, that you’d managed to catch him off guard twice now is nothing short of gratifying, and you were ready to bat for three. 

Quickly, you swivel your attention back down before he has a chance to find his bearings. Open your mouth to flick at his glans with your tongue where it peeks out from behind the stretch of his foreskin. A strangled sound rises deep in his chest while his cock jumps to immediate attention, flexing up off his stomach for a brief moment before slapping back down with a meaty noise. He fitfully shifts atop the creaking bed and then tucks his chin against his chest to look down at you, his hips arching off the sheets in needy supplication. 

It’s a delicious sight to behold; the usually confident and suave Captain of the Cavalry so hot with need it had him antsy under your attention. You decide to take pity on him for the moment and lean down again, catching the flushed head of him between your lips so you can suck on it while you bring a hand around to grip at the base. You make sure to do everything quick and without warning so he doesn’t have a chance to brace himself for it, and he rewards you very handsomely for your efforts. 

Kaeya outright grunts like you’ve just sucker punched him, seething through tightly clenched teeth. Twists his balled up fists in the bedding and allows his head to fall back, moaning gruffly up at the ceiling while his stomach dramatically flexes at the abrupt sensation of a hot, wet mouth around his cock. You greatly enjoyed seeing him like this. Worked up enough for his sensitivity to be heightened but still so unaware of what you were building up to, what you were planning. 

It makes it incredibly easy to crowd your other hand close to your face so you can coat the fingers in spit, idly pumping his length in the absence of your tongue and lips. He doesn’t question it. Doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel downright devilish as you lean down to take him a third of the way into your mouth again, just short of brushing the back of your throat, and slip your now sticky digits between his legs. At the first tentative touch to his hole Kaeya chokes on another undignified sound but quickly bites it back. Wrestles it under control. You can tell it’s a struggle for him though, and you were more certain than ever that he wasn’t accustomed to being touched like this. It really was a brand new experience for him. 

“Don’t tense up,” You murmur, coming off his cock just enough to speak. “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me, okay?” 

He tries to laugh it off but it doesn’t quite come out sounding very calm or casual. ��Trust isn’t the issue. Telling me not to tense up … now that is a tall order.” 

“You told me to do my worst.” You lightly remind him. 

“And I stand by that.” Drawing a slow, deep breath that makes his hole subtly flex under your fingertips, he releases it with a drawn out exhale. Carefully inches his long legs a little further apart to give you more space, better access, in a clear display of submission and acceptance. “Do it. I’m not going to stop you.” 

“That sounds rather fatalistic, don’t you think?” Gently, you rub your fingers over his hole again. It was still wet with saliva and puffy from before, the center puckered enough that you could feel the skin start to give way under the slow pass of your ministrations. If you’d planned on using anything much bigger than this you would have needed real lube. He was just too tight and unstretched to accommodate much else without the proper prep. But for a finger or two, this should be fine. 

Perhaps sensing your train of thought, he shifts again and peers down at you. His gaze is heavy and distant, and you think he’s probably blushing right up to his ears under the dark complexion of his skin as he carefully curls one leg up to better present his entrance to you. “I’m not trying to be a martyr. If you say it will feel good then I believe you, just … take it slow, okay?” 

You weren’t used to seeing him express any kind of doubt or uncertainty like this, and you offer him a warm smile in return. Curl your fingers to find the center of his hole and just prod into it, teasing the slackening muscle with the suggestion. His mouth parts as if to groan or perhaps sigh, but nothing comes out, like he can’t quite find the oxygen to do either. “I will. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax your body into it. If you don’t like it just tell me and we’ll stop.” 

He nods once, clearly distracted by what you were doing with your hand. That was as good a sign as any in your eyes so you give a little push that sinks the tip of the middle digit into him. It wasn’t true penetration yet but it’s enough for you to feel the intense heat of his guts and how the muscle tries to clench at the pressure. Pausing there, you give your finger a careful wriggle to coax his hole into opening up more for you. You can feel him trying to brace against it, to hold himself in check, and his raised leg visibly falters in the air as a result. 

Quickly releasing your hold on his length, you reach up to grab his ankle and guide it over your shoulder. He hesitates, almost seems to want to fight it at first and then allows his leg to slide into place with a stiff, almost whiny hiss. He wasn’t used to this, you remind yourself as you give his calf a brief squeeze of reassurance. Kaeya was typically more accustomed to being the instigator, not the one at someone else’s mercy. All of your previous wins had been cashed in with relatively tame asks. You’d sat on his face multiple times now, though you suspected that was as much a treat for him as it was for you. In truth he’d gone down on you more times than you could count and on more than one occasion had even stuffed his thumb into your ass upon request while he took you from behind. The most daring thing you’d asked of him thus far had been to ride him out on the shoreline beaches of Cider Lake in the dead of night and he’d certainly fulfilled that fantasy with star glitter results. 

But the current situation saw you firmly in control and it took all the power away from him, leaving his usual cool nothing more than a distant memory. He holds himself so stiffly there on top of the bed that you can see the thick bands of muscle across his chest bulging under the skin, his lean stomach so tensed it almost looks concave from this angle. At the subtle wriggle of your finger Kaeya haltingly twists his upper body against the sheets, leaving them in a wrinkled ruin, but his lower half remains almost stock still. Like he didn’t trust himself to move just yet when he had no idea what was truly coming. 

All the better, really. You could take pity on him if you’d wanted but he hadn’t shown any of that restraint the last time when he’d reduced you to a babbling, squirting mess. If you could do the same to him, you’d consider this a resounding victory. 

“Relax, Kaeya,” You breathe out, and his cock eagerly flexes up off his stomach again at the cool waft of air. “I promise you’ll like this.” 

A small, throaty whimper is the only answer you get but it’s as close to acquiescence as you’re likely to get. 

Holding the breath in your lungs, you carefully start to push deeper into him. The resistance of his body is unmistakable but the right amount of pressure applied to the very center of his sphincter soon has you slipping in past that initial barrier. His entire frame shakes with the haggard, threadbare gasp he sucks in before going so completely still you can’t be sure if he’s still breathing or not even as the constricting heat of his guts fully envelops your digit. Gentle yet insistent, you keep going until you can feel the puffed up rim of his asshole pressing against your knuckle. It’s only then that you pause, just letting the simple penetration sink in and for him to adjust to it as you dip your face close to his pelvis again. 

“Take a deep breath, good boy. For me?” You murmur, lips brushing over the curve of one testicle. 

He immediately draws another quick, flustered exhale; the noise catching in his throat with a low choking sound. His cock springs up with it and strains skyward, lurching so powerfully it smacks against your cheek with a small meaty slap. 

You laugh, unable to help it, and that seems to dislodge the tortured groan he’s been valiantly fighting back this entire time. It bursts out of him with a suddenness that would have startled you had you not been fully aware of how enthusiastically his inner sleeve was clenching around you in sporadic pulses. Like he was torn between tensing up or relaxing into it, and the end result all but has him milking himself on your finger. 

Heady with that knowledge, you bring your head up and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, pulling it in deep. Kaeya lets out a broken little sob, once again twisting in the bedding while his leg uselessly flexes over your shoulder. He’s usually much more in control than this, and you’re exceedingly glad that you chose to do it in this position because it allows you to glance up the length of his pulled taut body and look at his face. His pinched expression is one of ruin and desperation, his fluster as plain as day. 

You’d never seen him look quite like that before and you drink it in, committing it all to memory while you flick your tongue over his satiny slit to lick up all the bitter precum leaking out of him. The deep furrow of his brows leaves a small wrinkle between them, further highlighted by the light sheen of sweat starting to form along his skin. His teeth clench tight when he swallows hard, making his jaw powerfully flex, and then his mouth warbles back open again to let loose the faintest, faltering groan you’ve ever heard. He seems to be torn between looking down at you, watching what you were doing, and fixing his hazy attention on the ceiling overhead. It has him fitfully squirming, his knee bumping your arm when it squeezes inward to accompany the deep clench of his innards. 

Content to leave it at that and just watch him, you don’t think to proceed any farther. But then he manages to surprise you this time when he finally tucks his chin to his chest and peers down at you with an imploring look so unspeakably needy it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Please,” He breathes out. So hushed and quiet you almost miss it despite the close proximity and the total lack of any other noise, save the distant sounds of the tavern in full swing down below. “Need to cum ...” 

Oh. 

Suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter, you give his cock one last lingering suck and pull off. It twitches in the absence of your mouth and strains after you, his pelvis needily lifting, but you just pin him with a slow simmering smile to still him again. “Do you now?” 

At his terse nod, you draw a deliberate breath that makes his thighs eagerly tense up in anticipation. 

“Are you going to say it?”

Kaeya’s thin attempt at laughter bounces off the walls, so transparent it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out he was trying to bluff. Trying and failing. “You really want to hear me say it that badly?” 

“I’d enjoy it but I have no intention of withholding from you if you don’t. It’s just part of the game, that's all. But more importantly,” You pause to give your finger another wriggle inside him, and he outright chokes on the sensation. Feeling quite pleased with yourself, you slowly curl that digit upward to feel along his inner wall in search of the tight cluster of nerves that would have him seeing stars. “Let’s find that sweet spot of yours, hm?” 

A low, gravelly moan rattles inside his chest as you poke and prod at him, massaging his interior with gentle insistence until you locate the telltale mass nestled just on the other side. It’s no bigger than a walnut but he gives a full bodied shudder the second you put any amount of pressure on it, and your pussy clenches in sympathetic excitement when he stiffens up. His mouth hinging open in surprise as much as deeply felt pleasure, Kaeya issues a half strangled mewl into the statically charged room, noticeably higher in octave than usual and raspy. It sounds heavenly to your ears. 

“Aaahhn - -“ 

“Ooh, there it is. And so sensitive too. I’ve barely even touched it yet and you’re already …” 

Gaze dropping, you watch his cock wildly flex as yet more creamy discharge bubbles up out of the slit. It gathers so quickly, and in such a thick concentration, that when you idly press up on his prostate again it flings right off at the sudden jolt of his achingly stiff length. The nearly translucent fluid stands out against his complexion where it splatters on his stomach and you have to make a conscious effort to stop yourself from chasing after it with your tongue. This was somehow even better than you’d imagined it would be. 

“Do you like that, Kaeya?” 

He tries to speak, croaks out something unintelligible, and has to pause to clear his throat once, twice, before trying again. “Mm’not sure yet but …” 

“But?” 

“Please do it again.” 

You grin from ear to ear, delighting in doing just that but with added pressure this time. Where your first few brushes against that tight little cluster had been soft and coaxing, you now curl the pad of your finger directly into it and massage it with steady strokes. Kaeya reacts like you’d given him a shock of electro, his entire body heaving and locking up in sudden tension that is at complete odds with the way his cock impotently jerks through the air like it’s got a mind of its own now. And he just keeps leaking a near constant stream of sticky precum that seems to bubble up quicker every time you rub against his prostate. It beads and gathers at the tip before dribbling off the next time his length flexes and you aptly watch as it falls, leaving a glistening thread trailing down to his stomach where it lands not far from the first. 

It becomes increasingly more difficult for you to keep your own urges in check as you watch him wheeze through it, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure and yet unwilling — or unable? — to shy away from what you were doing to him. He certainly could have if he’d wanted to. Kaeya was not only twice your size but double your strength too. If he really deemed it to be too much for him to take anymore, he could have all too easily put a stop to it one way or another. 

Instead, he gasps like his soul is actively trying to leave his body and writhes stiffly before — slowly hiking his other leg up to curl it around you. It suddenly feels like your chest is constricting too tight for you to breathe, and it’s only a subconscious reaction that has you nudging your arm down so he can hook his knee over it much the same as the first. You don’t give it any deeper thought than that. You can’t, not when it was as if your brain was flatlining and all you could think to do is accommodate him. If he wanted to do this with his legs in the air like a proper slut then that was what he would have. 

And surely no one could fault you for that when it was by far one of the hottest things you’d ever been lucky enough to have a front row seat for. You felt like you were going to explode and your neglected cunt hadn’t even been touched yet. 

“Nnghhn, that’s … oh, that’s good. Unexpected but — good.” He sounds incredibly winded, like he’d just returned from running all the way out to Dragonspine and back without taking a break anywhere in between. The damp quality of his skin gives the same impression where it was making some of his dark hair stick to his temple and cheeks in a few spots of gathering perspiration. 

Truth be told Kaeya already looked wrecked beyond repair but you wanted to ruin him even more. How could you not when he was so devastatingly gorgeous and all yours for the taking? 

“You really like it? You’re such a good boy for me, y’know that. I really wanted you to enjoy this.” 

“I am,” He grits out with no shortage of effort, his narrow hips juddering slightly in their elevated position. You’re even more glad for your foresight now because it makes it all the easier for you to adjust the angle of your finger when his pelvis is up off the bed and you attack his prostate with renewed vigor now, earning yourself another tortured moan. “Ohh! Ahn … please. Need to cum!”

“Then cum for me, Kaeya. I’m not going to stop fingering your ass until you do.” 

The sound that bursts out of him is downright wounded, guttural and keening. Whiny, almost. He writhes so uncontrollably you can tell he’s getting dangerously close and the excited quiver of his guts only serves to further solidly that impression. You know it’s only a matter of moments now and your pulse skyrockets as he blindly reaches up to squeeze at his own chest through the lacy cups of the bra. His dark nipples cut up into the fabric, as stiff as can be and begging for friction. It’s almost too much for you to bear but you persistently keep going even when your wrist starts to cramp from the constant flexing and the tight angle. If you’d had the time for it you probably would have tried to worm a second finger into the tight heat of his squeezing passage but it was already much too late for that. 

His breaths coming in quicker, shorter bursts, Kaeya tips his face down to look at himself. The red lace stretched across his pectorals and around his waist, flimsy panties pulled aside and away from his bobbing cock while he’s got his long legs draped over your shoulders. The sight seems to surprise a faltering groan out of him, and he struggles to keep his eye open and trained on you when his expression pinches tight. 

“Burn everything, I’m going to cum. I’m cumming. Yes, yes, yesssss, aghhn, keep fucking my s - slutty ass until I — I - -“

His head suddenly falls back against the bed, viciously seething up at the ceiling while his cock gives its most violent jerk yet. Ropes of thick, milky semen shoot out of the slit in an abrupt eruption that almost manages to catch you off guard. The weight of him pendulously swings with the sheer force of his ejaculation, sending it back towards you just in time for the next pulse to catch you across the chest. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Not even so much as a peep. 

Making the impulsive decision to put it to good work anyway, you quickly swoop down and catch the head of him between your lips with mere seconds to spare. The third jet of potent discharge shoots off at the back of your throat and your eyes roll back in fluttering bliss at the same time Kaeya cries out in deeply frazzled distress. The way he clenches, so fervent and tight he feels like a livewire on the brink of snapping, makes it apparent that he hadn’t expected to find himself cumming directly into your mouth. That pleases you a great deal too, especially when it seems to elongate his pleasure. Drags it out with yet another roiling heave that sends more bitter semen squirting down your gullet. 

He doesn’t have anything else left to give after that though, and further pressure on his prostate just coaxes out a thin, watery discharge that tastes of potent salt on your tongue. You groan low in your chest at the bitter flavor even as you dutifully swallow it down where it can settle hot and heavy in your gut. Kaeya just hisses like an incensed wildcat at the overstimulation before finally making an attempt to shirk away from it, sensitively curling his lower half inward. 

Letting go of him immediately, you watch his cock swing forward with an accompanying thread of glistening spittle stretched between your mouth and the glans. It stays upright for a short beat or two before swooning down towards his stomach when it quickly starts to soften in it’s thoroughly spent state. You give your lips a quick lick to rid them of any lingering spit and turn your attention up at his face, leaving your finger wedged inside for the moment but angled away from that sensitive bundle along his upper wall to give him a moments reprieve. 

He’s got his head turned away and hidden behind an arm carelessly tossed over his eyes, still trying to calm his erratic breaths. You give him another minute or two, then reach up with your unoccupied hand to rub over his belly in comforting circles while actively trying to avoid the goopy mess he’s made all over himself. “Are you alright, Captain? Is there anything I can get for you?”  

“Yeah.” He barks out a short, mirthless laugh as he stirs, working to unhook his long legs from you with cautiously slow movements. “You can take your panties off and get over here. I think I owe you a little payback of my own after that.” 

Your pussy gives a muted throb of excitement, but you don’t immediately jump at the chance to do as he’d asked. Both because you wanted to check in on him first without getting distracted and because you were still lodged inside him up to the knuckle. Suddenly pulling out might come as a shock if he wasn’t ready for it. 

“There will be time for that later,” You remind him gently. “I think we should talk about you first. How do you feel?” 

Finally moving his arm, Kaeya looks down at you with a sardonically lifted brow. “You can’t be serious. You really need to ask? Just look at exhibit A.” He gestures meaningfully at the sticky discharge splattered across his front, making you take note of the goopy stains on the band of his garter belt for the first time. He certainly had cum a lot, hadn’t he? “Never mind that I just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life and it’s going to take me longer than usual to bounce back from it. Need I also remind you that you got me to say what you were fishing for earlier?” 

You can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at the memory. “You sure did. I’d almost given up.”

“You know I don’t like to disappoint.” A smirk tugs at his mouth but it quickly vanishes when he tucks his knees upward, opening himself up to you and giving you a picture perfect shot of your finger crammed in his ass up to the hilt. Oh, if only you had a kamera on hand.

“Can you, uh …” 

“Of course. Just relax the muscles as much as you can and try not to clench.” With that, you gently start to ease your hand back. Despite your helpful suggestion his interior still tries to cling to you on the way out and Kaeya seethes at the sensation. It doesn’t escape your notice that he actively refuses to look at you during this process but you couldn’t really hold that against him. Some men became cripplingly shy and embarrassed once the heat of the moment has worn off, others got angry at themselves for enjoying it so much. 

Kaeya didn’t seem to be either embarrassed or angry though. If anything, he almost struck you as … vulnerable in that moment. Like he was confident enough in his own masculinity, his own ego, not to let something like this rattle him. Rather you’d seen another side of him tonight that you were unfamiliar with and he was — uncertain how you would react? 

Could that really be it though? 

Curiosity lights up the back of your mind in stunning high definition. You’re already forming the question on the tip of your tongue as your finger pops free and he groans very faintly, wincing at the loss. But youre quick to lean over him before he can turn away onto his side, getting right in his face so he has no choice but to look up at you. 

“Kaeya, do you - -“ 

He abruptly pushes up, catching your lips and silencing you in one fell swoop. You issue a soft sound of surprise against his mouth but he just swallows the sound, kissing you so heatedly you can’t fight being coaxed into the motion. Giving in with a stilted sigh, you half melt into the exchange and kiss him back with your own hunger, your own need reflected in the hard press of your mouth against his. 

When he finally pulls away a long moment later, he’s effectively stolen your breath and almost made you forget what you were going to ask. Almost, but not quite. 

“You should know by now I’m not so easily distracted.” You pant, pinning him with a mock rueful look. 

“Oh trust me, I do. It’s one of the many things I like about you, if I’m being honest.” He murmurs back, his tone low and hushed yet once again colored with silken promise. It almost comes as more of a surprise than the kiss had, how quickly he could rebuild his walls and put the mask back on. At your look of confusion, though, he just offers up a sly little grin. “It wasn’t actually meant to distract you. We can talk about it later. Promise. For right now though, I think the far more pressing matter is seeing if I can make you cum half as hard as I just did. That only seems like a fair exchange, doesn’t it?”  

“You’re hopeless.” You sigh out, even as your nipples harden painfully fast against the interior of your bra at the simple suggestion. You wanted to feel his touch there, between your legs, everywhere and all at once. This arrangement was fun and games on the surface but deep inside there was something else brewing, taking hold of you and growing. Would he be as amenable to that as he’d been with this kind of play? 

You’re not so sure when his own vulnerability was already such a touchy subject to broach but the way he leans up to press a tender kiss against your lips seems to suggest that maybe, just maybe, it was the same for him too. He was scared. You were scared. Perhaps the two of you could be scared together. 

“I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours.” He teases, and the resulting warm caress of his breath against your skin makes you shudder. A pleased look crosses Kaeya’s face as he reaches a hand up to palm along your waist, your hip and finally down into the waistband of your underwear so he can possessively smooth it over the curve over your ass. “Stop thinking about it so hard. We’ll sort it out soon enough, once I’ve taken care of that sweet little pussy for you. Surely you wouldn’t rather I leave you high and dry?” 

It’s a frustratingly easy question to answer. “No, I wouldn’t.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Chuckling, he gives you a tight, lingering squeeze that makes your breath catch. “Let’s get these panties off then. I have a few ideas I want to try out on you now that it’s my turn. I wonder how loud I’ll be able to make you scream this time.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #self insert bullshit

[pearlparty]

It’s Cuffin’ Season

Brat/Sub!Austin x Reader

Summary:   It all started out as a fun little game of teasing, harmless.  Except this time he broke one of the rules.  And then he broke another rule, because he just couldn’t help himself.  He didn’t expect being tied up, gagged, and edged to tears as a result though.  Furthermore, he’d never have expected himself to like it.  Check that, no, love it.

Warnings:  SMUT!!!, heavy dom/sub dynamics, Brat!Austin (but one could argue that it’s just banter and not bratty), Sub!Austin, handcuffs, teasing, edging, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m receiving), hand job, use of a tie as a gag, a tiny bit of degradation, lots of praise, momma kink, ma’am kink, usage of the nickname “baby boy”, lots of begging and apologizing, male whimpering, a dash of dacryphilia (if you can even call it that), tons of dirty talk, brief discussion/use of the color system safe words, unprotected penetrative sex, spitting/swallowing spit, cockwarming, creampie, no use of Y/N, first time writing smut, super quick/rushed ending probably

Word Count:  9k

Note:  This is my first time writing smut, so please provide ANY/ALL of the feedback (and I really mean good and bad because I really want to step up my game with this, so feel free to be mean lol).  I wrote this for @purejasmine who asked for some apologetic and crying Austin. Hope I could do it justice, babe, and sorry it took five-ever lol. This has been sitting in the archive for a while because I’ve been so anxious about posting it, so the end wraps things up super quickly--if you have any suggestions about how to properly wrap it up, please, message me! If I’ve written anything that has concerning themes that I’ve not addressed, please let me know.  I also feel the need to mention that this is takes place in an established relationship with switch dynamics that aren’t really discussed.  This is filthy, God, I’m sorry.

The two of you had been apart for what felt like forever (in reality, it was only about a month, but it felt like forever to two idiots who were hopelessly in love and obsessed with each other).  You’d been in Paris boss bitching your fall fashion designs to a couple of top executives and he’d been gone for press tours. 

It was easy at first.  You’d call every night to check in and say your sappy goodnights (even though the time difference usually meant one of you was saying good morning).  FaceTime provided some element of comfort to satiate his need for you, but the small screen of blue light did little in comparison to your soft touch and warm skin.  Still, he held out because at least he could see you.

The second week was a little harder. A little game had started up between the two of you. Phone calls littered with subtle innuendos had turned to lightly provocative selfies and texts which turned into downright filthy messages sent to each other during the work day.  In fact, it got to the point that whenever your name popped up on his screen, he had to check his surroundings before he looked at the message.  Unfortunately, he had also learned the hard way to make sure his brightness and volume were low, thanks to a sexy little voice note that had him jumping out of his skin and nearly throwing his phone into the street—which had earned him a poorly hidden side-eye from one of the PAs that had been nearby.  

The game of teasing had begun, and while he absolutely loved it, you’d set an impossible finish line: wait until we’re together again.  He’d audibly groaned when the words left your mouth, dripping with sex. “Just think how much better it’s gonna be when you’re fucking me instead of your hand. Can you wait for me, baby? Wait for me to come home and take your cock in whatever way pleases you?”  He reluctantly agreed, but the images in his phone had been tempting enough as it was.  The rest of the time away would be a nightmare.  

It’d been easy in the day—there had been a few moments where he zoned out staring into the middle distance, pulling his lip between his teeth, as flashes of your face creased in ecstasy graced his imagination, but the tasks before him always pulled him back to the present without a problem. 

Nights on the other hand? That was a whole different problem—it was awfully easy to let his mind wander in an empty hotel room when his phone was right there with a variety of scandalous pictures of you on it. Well… let’s just say that he’d used the pictures you’d sent to hype himself up a bit, but he’d held out despite that little horny voice in the back of his head that tempted him to undo his pants for a quick couple strokes.  He might have taken a cold shower or two (or six), but he’d managed to do it.  

The four weeks away had him aching to spend a few blissful moments in your presence; it’d be a chance to hold you and recount your trip’s details—touch your face, caress your curves with his fingers, and bury his face in your stomach as you lightly play with his curls.  

Right before he railed you into the mattress. 

But that’s not how things worked out, huh? Unfortunately, your flight had been canceled due to the weather in Rennes, France, so your schedule had you just barely getting home before the charity gala the next day.  You hadn’t been too worried on the phone, brushing it all off with a lovely, “C’est la vie,” but Austin held back an annoyed groan.  The man had been waiting to have you all to himself, tucked away in his arms in your little corner of the world, and now he’d have to wait even longer to have you.

Now, that pesky little voice seemed a little louder.  His horniness, and perhaps slight jet lag, had begun to eat away at his resolve and soon he found himself leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, filthy thoughts rolling through his head.  He glanced at the clock.  Around 3.  She’s not going to be home for a few hours, the little voice offered.  And you won’t be able to have her until after the gala.  She’d never know.  Besides, it’s good for stress relief, and you’ve been so worked up for so long.  You deserve this.

His patience had worn thin and he gave into those carnal urges before you got home.  He had the images pulled up on his phone, listening to the voice memos, over and over again as he pictured you coming undone beneath him.  He rode that wave to the peak.

And then you walked in on him.  His heart (and impending orgasm) stopped.  Everything seemed to freeze as you locked eyes with him and pursed your lips.

“Is that any way to greet the love of your life after a month apart?” 

Heat rose in his cheeks and ears with embarrassment.  Shit, he thought.  Not only had you caught him masturbating, you had caught him masturbating after you explicitly told him not to masturbate while you were gone.  

It was only a few seconds, but it dragged out for an eternity.  Austin let go of his cock and sat up a little straighter, eyes darting around the room as he started a defense, “Babe, I, uh--”

“Needed me that bad, huh, baby boy?” you purred as you strutted towards him, lidded eyes never leaving his panicked and confused ones as you closed the distance between you.  You dragged your hands up and over his knees and thighs, leaning down enough to give him a little bit of a show with your loose neckline dangling open.  His mouth fell open into a small O-shape, still confused, but not unhappy, that you were acting like this.  

“Hm?” you hummed, nails ghosting over his cock as you leaned down close to his ear to taunt him with a salacious, “Oh, honey, we both know that your hand can’t hold a flame to me.  Do you need me now?”  You leaned in closer with a breathy sigh.  “Want me to take you right here?  Wanna come inside me after a month of being apart?” 

Austin’s eyes rolled back in his head as he listened to the sin fall from your lips.  For a moment he’d completely forgotten about the promise he’d broken.  For a moment he just had you.

“Oh yes, baby, yes.  I do,” he moaned as your hands slid over his shoulders, teasing the fabric of his white tee up his torso just a couple inches.  He gently let his hands slide up the sides of your waist.  “Need you so bad.”

A light chuckle resonated in your chest before you continued in a breathy whisper, “You know I was going to make it special.”  He barely processed the words as he melted into your touch on his neck, spellbound by the way your fingernails lightly scraped over his scalp and mussed his curls.  And then you were a lips’ distance away and he could only marvel at the way you’d enchanted him with your touch, hypnotizing him with your soft tone and bedroom eyes.

“Think of all the sinful things we could have done before the gala tonight, Aus,” you breathed as you leaned in even closer.  He nearly closed the distance between your lips himself, but--

“Since you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, I guess we’ll just have to wait a little longer, won’t we.”  You pulled away harshly, leaving him chasing your skin with a small protesting whine and a small “no” as you drew back and met his gaze with maliciousness, still gripping his hair in an iron vice like some sort of seductress.  No.

Dominatrix.  

Austin gulped.

“Now, you’re gonna listen to me, baby, and you’re gonna listen good,” you admonished, making him nod, suddenly struck dumb at your quick mood change.  You had never spoken to him like this before… and he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it.  You kept your voice low and level, but not angry.  If anything, your words almost contradicted your sultry tone.  “We’re going to go to the gala in a couple of hours. We’re going to have a real good time.  You’re going to be on your best behavior—keep your hands to yourself, be the perfect arm candy for me, and then,” you leaned in again, “if you’re good,” your lips just ghosted the shell of his ear as you brought your voice down to a whisper, “I’m going to fuck your brains out when we get home.”  

The brazened words sent a thrill straight to his cock, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe anymore.  

“But,” you jerked his head back to look at you fully, a fire burning in your eyes as you laid it out crystal clear.  “You put your hands on yourself or misbehave for the tiniest fraction of a second, and I will have you crying and begging for mercy.”  

The next words left his mouth unbidden, “Is that a threat or a promise?”  

You licked your lips and cocked your head to the side, looking him up and down.  “Huh,” the tip of your tongue grazed the bottom of your front teeth, “never woulda pegged you as a brat, Mr. Butler.”

You released his hair and caressed your fingers over his cheek before running your thumb down his full bottom lip.  “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He hummed in response, his half lidded gaze and smirk doing well for himself.  A thrill shot through your abdomen.  This was turning out to be one of the best games you’d ever played, it seemed.  You gripped his jaw and went in for a slow kiss.  A simple kiss to greet your lover with affection after the weeks apart.  “I missed you, by the way,” you muttered to his lips, allowing the persona to take a backseat for a moment and let your mushy feelings out before you had to become the stern woman in charge again.  

“Missed you, too,” he muttered back, letting his fingers tease the seam of your pants by your knees.  

“Trust me, I’m aware.” You glanced down to his still exposed dick and smirked a little as he blushed.  “Now,” you gently tapped his cheek, “get your ass into the bathroom and take a cold shower for me, yeah?”

Needless to say, putting his hands on himself had been one of the few thoughts rolling around in his head as he stepped under the cold water—which didn’t help much besides shock his body back to homeostasis, by the way—and then changed into the dark blue suit set you’d picked out for him shortly after.  And as he watched you slink out from your closet draped in a shimmery gold dress that left little to his raunchy imagination, he had to turn and mentally bite his fist to calm himself.  The slit in the skirt revealing your leg practically screamed, “Easy access, easy access, easy access!”  His fingers itched to slide up your waist and slip the delicate straps from your shoulders. They ached to caress your stomach, thighs, and breasts, but your warning played on repeat in his head and he restrained himself to stick to the rules of engagement you’d given him.

But what would happen if I didn’t play by the rules? he thought.  Austin wasn’t sure whether it was unbridled curiosity or some unchecked internal masochism that he’d yet to address, but something had prompted the thought as the two of you climbed into the back of the car.  He wanted to see just how far you’d take things.  

How could he push you to the end of your rope?  And what would lie in wait for him once he’d done it?  

A smirk played on the corner of his mouth as the car stopped at your destination.  He’d play his part, yes.  He’d be the perfect arm candy to the fashion executive woman who needed to hobnob with the rich for a while to maintain those business relationships.  He’d open doors, help you from the car, make small talk with individuals with inflated senses of purpose, fetch drinks, and smile for pictures.  Yes, he’d do all of that.

But he wanted to have a little fun with you, too.  And after two and a half hours of watching you do your job accepting the praise from your colleagues, he finally allowed himself to do just that.  Maybe it was his own sexual frustration, or even the three glasses of gin, that pushed him to such uncharacteristic public boldness, but he couldn’t ignore the way he felt drawn to your body as you and a small group of stylists listened to your colleague Jean-Luc Gaultier speak about his defeats and triumphs with his latest line of men’s trousers. 

Austin appeared to be listening to the Frenchman intently, but his mind was elsewhere as he let his hand snake around your waist and caress the silk material.  His fingers pressed into the front of your hip bone in a tantalizing motion as he slid them impossibly close to your hip flexor for the briefest of moments—just teasing you with the idea of the possibility of where he would go next.  Your breath hitched, but you maintained your decorum and covered it up by clearing your throat as you shot Austin a look out of the corner of your eye.  He ignored it.

Jean-Luc didn’t seem to notice either, and continued to prattle on about the season to the group of people in the small circle.  The other designers in the conversation didn’t pay you mind, only eager to please the executive with fake laughter and ingenuine flattery.  

Austin’s hand wandered again, gently sliding up your waist to allow his thumb to ghost the underside of your breast before dropping to cop a feel of your ass.  Your eyes widened at the sensation, and you snatched his hand in yours.  Without even looking at Austin, you could tell he had that stupid smirk on his lips.

“Excuse me, Jean-Luc,” you gently interjected with a tight smile on your face when the executive came to the end of his story.  The graying man looked over his round pink sunglasses with a quirked brow.  “I think I need to go out for a smoke.  I’ll be right back.”  You finally turned to shoot a warning look at Austin.  “Come with me, dear?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to answer as you dragged him away towards the large door out the back, keeping an eye out for any lingering guests that might have gone out as well. 

The heavy door slammed closed as you and Austin stepped into the cool night air.  Alone.  Without a second thought, you whipped the tall man around you and roughly shoved him into the red brick with a huff, your dark nails biting into his neck.  

“What the hell was that?”  You hissed through gritted teeth.  You’d been patient up until now, but this recent disobedience flipped the switch pushed all the pent up sexual frustration from the past month to something a little more aggressive than you’d ever expected.  “You really think you can get away with that fiasco back home and then you come here and pull that shit?  You’re a little too cocky for your own good.” 

“Oh, c’mon, darlin’,” he rasped out, throwing in a little bit of that southern twang that you’d never openly admit to loving so much.  “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly.  Was he trying to get out of this or make it worse on himself?  A wave of inappropriate ideas flooded the forefront of your mind.  You couldn’t help but grin a little.

“You’re not too good at following rules, are you?” your low voice sent a shiver up his spine, and he met your half-lidded gaze with one of his own.  You pulled your lip between your teeth in contemplation.  “What on earth am I gonna do with you?”  

“Nothing I don’t deserve, I’m sure,” he goaded you.  This was uncharted territory for both of you, but he was more than eager to push the limits to fill in the blank edges on the map.

“Who’s to say you deserve anything?”  You shortened the gap between your lips as much as you could given Austin’s insane height advantage over you. 

He nearly moaned at the bite in your words and the feeling of your nails on his neck.   “Ooh, I like it when you’re mean, baby.”  Ever the perfect scene partner, he improvised in this little game of yours while eloquently giving you the green light to lay on in thick.  And you’d do just that.

You hummed.  “You’re a pussy hungry, arrogant little whore, aren’t you?  You go home and jerk off to the thought of me when I explicitly told you not to and then you come here and let your hands wander after I asked you to be a good boy.”  You let your words drip from your mouth with a sickeningly sweet glaze.  “Do you think it’s funny disobeying me?  Where exactly do you get off with that, huh?”   

“With you, hopefully,” he rasped, keeping his words between the two of you as he smirked.  Currently, nothing seemed more appealing than wiping that smug look off of his beautiful face.  Your fingers twisted around his tie as you wrenched him closer, a sinister smile spreading over your lips.

“We’ll see,” you whispered before dragging him inside like a dog on his leash.  It didn’t take him long to catch up, and you quickly dropped his tie and slipped your hand around his to lead him instead—better not to attract more attention than necessary, though part of you would have liked to drag him out like that and let everyone know that he was your little puppy. 

You found Jean-Luc near the bar; the swarm of groupies and outlandish fashion made it easy to find him.  “I’m so sorry, dear,” you began, pulling the older man’s attention to you.  “But I’m afraid I’m feeling a little faint after that cigarette, so Austin and I are going to head home for the night.”  You didn’t give him a chance to object or offer any remedies he might have up his sleeve. “Your designs are fantastic, mon ami, and I can’t wait to see what you have this fall.”  He blushed and pulled you in for a kiss on either cheek in his typical farewell before you muttered a few more goodbyes and led Austin to the car.

You ushered him into the backseat, and he wordlessly followed your directions to buckle his seatbelt.  A thick sexual tension settled into the back of the car as you gave the driver directions to your house, and you might have worried that the driver knew what you were up to had you not been busy running your nails through the curls at the base of Austin’s neck.  

When the car pulled into the driveway, you unbuckled Austin’s seatbelt and directed his eyes to yours with two of your fingers on his jaw.  You kept your voice low enough so that only he could hear you.  “Get your ass in the house, baby.  Go sit on the couch and wait for me there, okay?”  

Austin pulled his lip between his teeth and you could have sworn that you heard a shudder in his breath.  You smirked, taking a moment to admire the state he was in before you reached across him and pulled his door open.  “I’ll take care of this and be up in just a second, okay?” you said at normal volume, but the edge in your voice wasn’t lost on him.  Austin nodded once, sucked in another breath and clambered out of the car.  You couldn’t help but watch his long legs carry him through the front door.  

“Long night, huh?”  the driver’s deep voice sounded so suddenly in the quiet private neighborhood that you nearly jumped.  It made you let out a small laugh.

“Oh, you have no idea,” you muttered as you pulled your wallet out of your purse. “Thanks for the ride.”  You handed him a $100 bill and quickly stepped out.  The beams from the headlights softened as the car backed out of the driveway, and soon it was just you and the porch light on a warm summer evening.  

Austin sat obediently on the couch like you’d asked—manspread and smirking, but obedient nonetheless—as he watched you saunter into the living room.  A part of you couldn’t decide whether he was trying to show that he maintained dominance or if he just wanted to piss you off.  You wordlessly made your way over to him, slowly drinking him in and letting your eyes roam every inch of his lanky body draped over the cushions.  He’d taken off his suit jacket and laid it over the couch’s armrest.  He did look rather handsome in what you’d picked for him.  Dark blue always brought out his eyes, and the white button up perfectly complimented his tan skin.  

“See something you like, babe?” The snarky comment left his lips as he leaned back and looped his arms over the back of the couch.  You cocked an eyebrow, surprised at his audacity but didn’t answer his question.  

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s deserving of a punishment,” you hummed, grabbing your dress and parting it from the slit at the top of your thigh so you could straddle him.  It had been a risk forgoing a pair of panties with a high slit in your dress, but the gamble had paid off if the look in Austin’s eyes meant anything.  You didn’t put any pressure on his lap, though.  No, you would take your time with him.

“And what if that’s the very thing that has me so chipper?”  Austin’s husky voice hit your ears and you sighed at the sound.

“Well then, darling,” you matched his tone, tugging lightly at the knot of his tie to bring him closer.  Your whisper sent a chill down his spine.  “I’d say you don’t know what you’re in for.”

He groaned at the sound as you lowered yourself down to his lap, allowing your naked body heat to tease him through his pants.  He snaked his hands up your waist, eager to rid you of your golden dress and touch your soft skin. 

“No.” You snatched his wrists and yanked them from your body.  “No touching.  Not ‘til I say so.”  Austin’s blue eyes blinked up at you a couple of times.  Oh, sweet boy didn’t really think he was going to be punished, did he?  You kept your tone firm, but didn’t raise your voice as you spoke, “You’re being punished so you don’t do anything until I say so.”

“O-okay.”  He stuttered out, and you released his wrists before wrapping your fingers behind his neck and redirecting his gaze up to yours by pressing his chin up with your thumb.  

“That’s all I get?  After you disrespected me and disobeyed me?”  you questioned with feigned innocence and a pout.  Your thumb gently swiped back and forth over the smooth skin on his flushed cheek before you went back to your stern voice.  “It’ll be ‘yes, ma’am’ from here on out.  Understood?”

Austin swallowed thickly.  “Yes, ma’am.”  He planted his hands firmly beside him on the couch cushions.   

You smirked.  “Hm.  Good boy.”  You turned your attention to his clothes, aching to run your hands down his toned chest.  Nimble fingers moved to loosen his tie as you spoke again.  “You remember the color system, baby?”  It was rhetorical, but he nodded anyway.  “Can you tell me what each of the colors mean?”  His tie came undone and you pulled it from his shirt collar slowly to lay it over the back of the blue couch, reveling in the way his breathing quickened ever so slightly.  His eyes never left your face even though your attention was on each of the buttons on his shirt.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he sucked in a breath as you undid the top two buttons.  “Green is all clear,” the next button came loose, “yellow is slow down,” Your nails grazed his chest as two more came undone.  His breath hitched at the sensation, but he pushed through the last color.  “And red means stop.”  You finished undoing his shirt and ran your fingers down his chest and towards his toned stomach. 

“Very good,” you purred.  Gently, you eased the garment off of his body and discarded it to the floor haphazardly. Your eyes raked over his bare chest, the light dusting of chest hair between his pecs. Fuck, he was pretty. 

Finally, you met his eyes again.  Those familiar blues you loved so much had that little ring of green on the edges that only showed up when he was horny, blown wide with lust.  You gently cupped his chin as you spoke seriously, the game taking a time-out so you could clearly express to your lover what you thought to be so important.  “So you say ‘red’ at any point, and I’ll stop everything, okay?”  

He nodded and sucked in a breath.  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, sincerity in his eyes.  He was ready for whatever you had for him.  

That wicked smile returned to your face.  “Good.”  

Austin couldn’t suppress the thrill that shot down his spine.  Oh, lord have mercy.  He barely had time to perceive the handcuffs you’d pulled from your bag before you gently grabbed his left wrist.  His eyebrows shot up at the sight—he hadn’t expected this, by any means.  The gears clicked as you squeezed the single strand snuggly around his wrist.  Your eyes flicked up to his, and he nodded, giving you the go ahead.

“Lean forward for me, baby.”  He did as he was told, his eyeline meeting your decolletage as his face nearly collided with your plunging neckline.  He gulped.  Had he not promised to be a good boy and wait for permission, he’d press kisses all over you right now.  Over your collarbones, down to the plush flesh at the top of your breasts, right down to—

“Do you know why you’re being punished, Austin?”  Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you secured his hands behind his back.  You hummed as the other handcuff clicked around his wrist slowly.  

“Yes, ma’am.” he breathed out slowly, eyes glued to your neckline.  Oh this really was a punishment.  

“Go on.”  You withdrew your hands from behind him and pushed his back to the couch.  “Tell me all the naughty things you did to deserve this.”  Your nails scraped down his shoulders to his chest, making him hiss at the delightful sensation.  You leaned in close, pressing light kisses to his neck—the kind that just barely grazed his skin and drove him mad with the sensation of your hot breath fanning across his pulse point.  Austin adjusted his arms behind his back a little so the cold metal of the handcuffs wasn’t pressing into his wrists too hard before he spoke.

“I-I touched myself before you came home,” he choked out when you ground your hips into his pelvis.  Tilting his head back for more access, you slowly dragged your hot lips up his throat and across his jaw, hands traveling closer and closer to his hardening cock.  You hummed.

“Mhm.  You couldn’t wait for me, could you?”  You grinned as you lightly took his chin between your teeth and shook your head in response to your own question.  Then you got dangerously close to his lips.  “Mm, you got off without me, so I’d say it’s only fair that you wait a little longer while I get off, yeah?”  Austin wanted to choke out a defense that technically he never really got off because you’d interrupted his climax, but the words died on his lips when you let out a small moan with another roll of your hips.  His eyes rolled back at the sensation and sound.  “You’re going to make me come two times, and then if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you put your pitiful cock inside me.  Does that sound okay, darling?”  

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he moaned, ready, willing, and able.  Even with his hands behind his back, he knew he’d be able to pull a couple of orgasms out of you.  Hell, maybe he’d make it three and overachieve—get a gold star and extra praise for his good deeds.  

But just like that, you were off of the couch and strutting away.  You seemed to be doing that a lot lately.  It made him go mad with hunger and he had to suppress a whine at the loss of contact he’d been aching for.

You slowly turned and sank to the loveseat across from Austin, arching your back just enough to draw his attention to your chest.  His brow furrowed.  

“Uhh,” he stammered out, “how am I supposed to get you off from here?”  

You tisked.  “Oh, Aus, I never said anything about you getting me off right away.”  You leaned back on the velvety cushion and slowly spread your legs, leaving everything on display for Austin—everything you knew he wanted but couldn’t have.  His mouth watered at the sight.  “Seems it’s only fair that I get myself off just like you, right?”  

You didn’t break eye contact as your hand dipped to the pooling arousal between your legs.  Suddenly, he realized exactly what kind of torture awaited him now:  you were going to get yourself off first.  And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but watch.  A breathy satisfied moan left your mouth, “Oh, Aus.”  You drew his name out in a long sigh, but the word left him empty since it wasn’t him that provided the pleasure (not that it made a difference to his quickly hardening cock).  Austin shifted in his seat as you let out a gasp and gripped the back of the loveseat over your shoulder.

“Eyes on me, baby. Only me.” you taunted, screwing your eyes shut as you began a rhythm on your clit that tightened the coil in your abdomen.  “Mm, this could have been you, Aus.”  You pulled your lip between your teeth, attempting to make an extra show for him.  

Truth be told, the performance wasn’t quite as pleasurable as you made it out to be as you normally liked Austin to be the one to get you off, but he’d been naughty and you deemed the performance a necessary punishment to get him irate or apologetic, whichever came first. After all, this was your game, so it seemed only fair that you make up the rules—even if they were unfair.  

“This could be your hand touching me, but you couldn’t wait, could you?”

Austin had his eyes glued to your fingers moving through your wet arousal and over your clit, as he shifted again in his seat.  “No, I couldn’t wait,” he choked out, the words leaving him hoarse.  

“Such an impatient man.”  The coil began to compress, and you picked up your pace to chase the release.  “You’re so desperate for me aren’t you, baby?”

A whine edged into his voice, “Yes, ma’am. I need you so bad.  Please.”  He leaned forward to the edge of the couch, letting out a strained breath.  A jolt of arousal bolted down your spine, but you chose not to respond to his plea and instead let out an obscene moan to tease him a little more.  He continued, more of that delicious whine lining his words, “Oh, please, baby, can I make you come.  Can I please touch you?”

The begging sent you over the edge and a lovely wave of white pleasure washed over you as you came, knuckles going white as you clutched the back of the couch.  Toes curling, head thrown back in ecstasy, your quick breaths echoing off the walls; it might as well have been pulled straight from a porno, and it had Austin captivated and straining against his slacks. If you hadn’t been recovering from an orgasm, you might have taken a minute to soak in the power you held over him at the moment.  

When the aftershocks finished wracking your body, you met Austin’s lustful gaze from across the room with a hooded one of your own.  He licked his plush lips, eyes raking over your form as his chest heaved, his cheeks flushing a light pink in his excitement.  You smirked, pleased with the effect you were having on him.

“You wanna taste me, sweetheart?” The question had barely left your mouth when Austin nodded feverishly. You crooned, “Awfully greedy, aren’t we?”  

You retracted your hand from your pussy and swiftly crossed to Austin to straddle him again, pushing him harshly back into the couch. He offered no resistance to your fingers slipping between his lips, savoring your taste and running his tongue over your fingers. You smirked. 

“I love how eager you are for me, Austin,” you purred, slithering your hand back to the base of his skull and tugging gently on a few of his curls. His eyes rolled back at the praise. 

You straddled him again, pulling your fingers from his mouth and pressing a hot, sloppy, open mouthed kiss to his worry-worn lips.  He kissed you hungrily, like kissing you was the only thing that would put air into his lungs. You were right: he was desperate for you. 

“I love when you’re begging for it. Begging for me.” You gasped the words between kisses, rolling your hips into his. He hissed at the welcomed sensation. Your hands wandered down to his belt, pulling the buckle free. 

“Touch me,” he gasped. “Please touch me, ma’am. Please.” 

Your eyes flashed up to watch his pretty face express the pleasure you supplied as you palmed his cock. Slowly, agonizingly, you undid the button and zipper on his slacks. Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband and shimmied it down his hips just enough for his cock to spring free from his underwear.  You couldn’t help but grin.  It seemed every single part of Austin was pretty. 

“Can you behave for me, Aus? Are you gonna listen to me this time? Gonna tell me when you’re about to come?” you cooed, dragging your hand up and down his dick in long languid strokes. 

“Yes, ma’am. Yes, I promise. Please. Just—please,” he choked his whimpers down as best he could but you could tell he was losing that battle.  You made a mental note to draw those whimpers out of him later.

You hummed as you slid off his lap and sank to your knees, eyeing his throbbing erection, the precum already oozing from his tip.  Without wasting any more time, you took hold of him by the base and licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock.  He let out a breath, one that let you know how much he’d been trying to hold back earlier.  You suppressed a grin and leaned forward to kiss the angry red tip, pressing a few little kitten licks to the top.  He squirmed at the sensation.

“P-please,” he whined, “no, teasin’.”  

You pulled away.  “You want me to stop?”

“No! Please, ma’am, I--” he started, but you didn’t want to hear it.  

“Then you’ll take what I give you, and beg for more.”  

He whimpered, actually whimpered, “Yes, ma’am.”  A flash of hot arousal whipped down your spine and straight to your throbbing pussy. Fuck, that was hot. 

“Good,” you hummed, before turning your attention back to his cock.

When you took his tip into your mouth, a shudder shook his chest as he moaned. You pumped your hand along him a few times, reveling in the way you could see his strong arms tugging and squirming to break free from his restraints, the way his eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy.  

You pulled away for just a moment to tell him, “Love the way those pretty blue eyes roll back when I’m sucking you off, baby.”  Your voice dripped over him like honey, smooth and salacious—all he wanted in that moment was the feeling of your tongue swirling around his head.

You bobbed your head, taking his long cock back as far as you could, pumping the rest of him with your hand.  

“Y-yes, ‘slike that,” he moaned.  “Kee-keep, goin’ like that.”  His eyes screwed shut and with a gasp and a grunt, he cried out, “Oh! I’m gonna come, baby!”  The pleasure had been building all day and it had gotten so intense.  You bobbed your head a few more times, pulling him closer and closer to the peak.  “Oh!  I’m—”

You pulled back, letting his hard wet cock spring back to his stomach in a pitiful display of arousal and no relief.  Those beautiful ceruleans blinked open, and for a moment you thought you could see a line of tears in his waterline.  His chest rose and fell quickly with heated breaths as he spoke, “Why’d you—” he stopped for a moment to think as you crawled back onto his lap and wiped your mouth, “b-but I’ve been good for you, haven’t I?”

You pressed a searing kiss to his open mouth to shut him up, allowing his cock to barely graze your cunt.  His breath hitched at it, and you pulled his head back by his hair to let him get a look at you.  

“Please,” he begged, “can I please come?”  

“Patience, darling.  You’re doing so well, but you’re not there yet,” you teased, dragging the back of your index finger down his cheek.  You tugged on his hair again, easing another whine out of him.  It sent a thrill straight to your core.  

“Color?” Your voice softened as you asked the question. You might have been in the driver’s seat tonight, but he had control of the situation. 

“Green, baby. So green.” His answer came immediately. 

“Good,” you cooed with a smirk. You stood again, only this time, you beckoned him to follow you to the other couch.  

“On your knees, Aus,” you commanded, and the tall blond obeyed.  “So good for me, aren’t you?”  You sank back to the love seat, spreading your legs again for him.  “Make me come, Austin.”

His eyes went wide, and a small smile graced his lips.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he affirmed before diving in like it was his last meal on earth, letting you swing your legs over his shoulders and crush his head between your thighs.  The man was a master with his tongue.  He crudely licked a long stripe along your pussy before lapping gently at your clit.  

He ate you out like it was his job, plunging his tongue into you and stimulating your clit with practiced perfection.  Up and down, up and down, sucking here, nudging there, swirling and finally adding in a little nip that drove you wild.  A string of praise fell from your mouth without you even realizing.  “So good t’me.  Oh Aus, yes like that!  Keep going for me, baby!”  

His tongue plunged inside you, and you let out a gasp, gripping the back of the couch again.  He could tell you were getting closer, closer, closer, and maintained his pace on your clit as you let out another cry, “Yes! ‘M close! I-I—” 

The words wouldn’t come, but he knew exactly what you meant.  He drank the words down and let out a grown at the sound of your voice, your cries. Ultimately, that tipped the scales and you came all over his face with a cry.

He didn’t stop though; his tongue continued its magic as he helped you ride your orgasm out until the wave of white passed over you and you had to push him away with your hand.  He didn’t back away fully and instead pressed more wet, heated kisses to the inside of your thighs, stealing glances up at you as you caught your breath.  Finally, your eyes locked and he stopped with a slow and intimate kiss on your leg.

He grinned at you in the dimmed light, his chin glistening.  The man wore your arousal like a damn badge of honor.  It was filthy, positively filthy. 

“Did I do good, momma?”  he rasped, voice deep and gravelly.  You might have just climaxed, but the nickname suddenly ignited a new kind of feral desire for him, and you felt yourself getting hot and bothered all over again.  You took a few steadying breaths before you spoke.

“You did very good, baby boy.  Oh, fuck, you did so good for momma.”  You lunged forward to capture his lips with yours, not caring in the slightest that you tasted yourself on his tongue.  Your lips moved together in practiced perfection, sliding, sucking—you even nipped at his lower lip and pulled a sigh from him. 

“Can you sit on the couch for me, darlin’?” you asked between kisses.  

“Yes, ma’am.”  With a little helpful balance from you, he returned to his seat and it was clear that his erection needed some attention, so you straddled his lap again with a little more room for you to jerk him off.

“Doin’ so good for me, Aus,” you purred in his ear as you took his cock in your hand.  He hummed at the contact and moaned as your hand pumped him at a slow and agonizing pace.  

“Please, baby, please,” he begged and let your name fall from his lips.  “C’mon, baby, make me come!”  Your hand stuttered on his cock and you pulled away, making him pant and whine some more for relief.  “Baby, I’ve been good!”  His voice was desperate, but verging a little too close to demanding for your liking.  He didn’t get to demand things like that tonight.

“You’re not playing by my rules, Aus,” you chastised flatly as you leaned away to retrieve his tie from the other side of the couch.  “You don’t wanna call me what I told you to call me?  Fine.” You rolled up his tie in your hands and watched his eyes widen.  “You don’t get to say anything else either.  Open.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed and you pressed the tie into his mouth as a gag.  “You need to earn back your words, so make all those pretty little noises for me, yeah?  I want you a moaning, whimpering mess by the time we’re done here.”  

You grabbed his cock by the base again, maybe a little more sudden than you’d intended because he jumped and let out a muffled yelp.  “C’mon, Aus.  You can do it for me, darlin’.”  You pumped his long shaft quickly, soaking in every little gasp or groan he’d give you.  His muffled little whimpers made your cunt clench in anticipation, and arousal slipped between your legs.  “Just like that, baby boy. Just like that.”  

It only took a few more motions of your hand for him to be right on the edge.  Tears spilled over his pretty lashes as he moaned into the tie.  “Gonna come for me?” you asked.  He nodded feverishly, ready to end the cycle of punishments you had for him, but you smirked before pulling away, pleased with having edged him to tears.

You took the wet gag from his mouth, a string of spittle following it as you placed it on the floor. Before he had the capacity to speak, you swiftly halted any communication with a heated kiss to his open mouth again, adoring the drooling sobbing mess that he’d become in the past couple of minutes.  

Your fingers softly traced the angry veins in his cock without enough pressure to provide any relief, but enough contact to tease him and make his hips buck forward.

“Oh please, ma’am!  Please let me come!”  he whined again, another set of tears falling onto his cheeks.  “Momma, please.”

You met his tearful gaze with a small smile and tilting your head to the side. “Didn’t you disobey me, though?  You’re a greedy little boy who doesn’t know how to follow rules, and that kind of behavior deserves punishment,” you sighed as you peppered his face with light kisses—small rewards for all the noises he’d made.  

“I’m sorry, ma’am.  I-I’m—momma, I’m sorry.”  

You pulled your lip between your teeth again, looking him over and taking in the whimpering man underneath you.   “You’re being awful good for me, baby boy.  Get me off one more time and then we’ll talk about you coming.  Can you be good for momma and get her off one more time?”

He seemed to sigh a breath of relief at that.  “Y-yes, ma’am. Please, I’ll be g-good—I’ll make you feel so good.” Oh, that sounded like music to your ears.

“I’m going to take these off of you now, okay?” you grabbed the key from your purse.  He eagerly leaned forward to allow more access to his wrists. 

“So, I can touch you now?” he rasped, his hot breath fanning over your chest and making your breath hitch. Your eyes rolled back, suddenly eager for his lips on your body. 

A light chuckle escaped your chest as you leaned closer and spoke, “Yes, you can touch me, Aus.” 

Austin’s eyes closed in a silent prayer of thanks as he feverishly planted kisses along your neckline with small whispered promises of ecstasy and faint love proclamations. It all made the process of unlocking his right hand from the handcuffs a little hard to focus on, but the quiet click of the lock releasing came nonetheless. 

As soon as the strand came loose from its gears and freed his wrist, Austin wrenched his arms forward, greedy hands roaming up your waist as he pulled your body closer to him. You gasped and clutched at the back of the couch and his head for the balance that he’d robbed with his lurch forward. The handcuffs still dangled from his left wrist, clinking together as he groped your body. 

“Want me to get—“ you started offering to unlock the other handcuff, but he cut you off with a growl and more desperate kisses making their way up your neck. 

“Just wanna feel you.” His low husky voice reverberated at your throat and you hummed in appreciation, dropping the key to the floor. 

“You wanna feel me, baby?” You asked as his right hand took a fistful of your ass and his left slid up the side of your neck. You shivered at the cold metal of the handcuffs brushing up along your heated skin.

“Yes, ma’am I do,” he whispered.

“Go ahead, darlin’. Make me feel good like you always do.” And with that, he slipped the thin golden straps from your shoulders and pulled your dress down to reveal your breasts, nipples erect and ready to be worshiped by Austin. His left hand slipped down to massage one while he licked a stripe down to your nipple on the other side. 

Oh, god. Your eyes closed on their own accord, focusing purely on the pleasure he supplied. His fingers moved from your ass to between your legs, dipping his middle and ring finger into your dripping pussy.

“Aus.” His name came out in a breathy mewl as he began a rhythmic circle on your sensitive clit with his thumb. Your breath hitched again when he curled his fingers and hit the spot just right that you couldn’t suppress a pornographic moan. “Oh, yes! Just like that!”

An orgasm lay right around the corner, and you were practically shaking as he continued. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry for disobeying you before.” The words fell from his lips in a slur, his voice rough and wet from neediness. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, squelching, moans, and heavy breathing filling the air around the both of you. 

“Right there! Right—ah!” you exclaimed as the ecstasy blinded you. He muttered more incoherent apologies into your chest between your breasts as he palmed your skin and breathed in your scent. You rode his fingers as the world slowly lost its rosy hue, your fingers tangling themselves into the golden tresses at the nape of his neck. 

“Yes, oh yes,” you panted, holding his head close to you. Austin hid his face into your neck, nibbling gently on the exposed flesh near your collarbone and pulse point. 

“Such a good boy for me, Aus,” you praised, catching your breath and steadying yourself before pulling his head back by his hair. The lighting allowed you to see his wet cheeks and swollen lips. His pretty blonde lashes seemed to sparkle. He really was an incredibly beautiful man. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was yours. 

 You brushed a stray tear from his cheek. “Good boys get their rewards.  You ready to come? Want to come inside me?” God, it was dirty. 

 “Yes, please. Please let me fuck you,” he choked out. Music to your fucking ears. You loved it when he talked like that. 

“Give it to me, Austin.” Despite being messy and overstimulated, you’d be damned if you didn’t get to come on his cock tonight. 

You leaned up on your knees and gently guided his cock to your dripping cunt, hissing when the tip of his head brushed against your clit. Fuck, you were sensitive. You didn't care though; you sank down onto him quickly and he hissed a curse. You gripped his shoulders as you gasped, nails biting into his skin. 

“Fuck, you feel divine,” he moaned. He clutched you closer. You didn’t respond as you began grinding a slow pace up and down. 

“Whose cock is this?” You asked between pants. Austin’s face creased in pleasure and he gasped when you clenched down on him.

“Yours, baby, it’s yours. I’m yours.” He spoke with awe and passion, and when his eyes opened again to meet yours he looked at you like you were the world. You crashed your lips to his desperately. “Take me,” he gasped between kisses, “use me,” his hand slipped to your neck to pull you impossibly closer, “love me,” another kiss before he pulled away to growl, “own me.” 

“‘S’right, Aus. You’re mine,” you breathed out. When you dropped down again, he hit that wonderful little sweet spot inside you, pushing you to the edge. Oh god! You picked up the pace a little, eager to chase the nearing euphoria. 

Grinding, heaving, moaning, you tapped your fingers to his lips. “Open your mouth, babe.” He did, and you did something you never thought you’d ever do: you gathered all the saliva in your mouth and spat it into his. He was yours, yours, yours. Without missing a beat, a smile played on his lips. He never broke eye contact as he did something he didn’t think he’d do.

He swallowed it. 

It was like a bolt of lightning. You were so close, so close, you wanted to sprint to the finish line. And from the looks of it, he was too, growling clutching your closer as you rode him at a now impossible pace. “You wanna come, Aus?”

“Please, momma! Please!” He moaned, his glassy eyes screwing shut as his sensitive head hit your cervix. You tightened your grip on his strong shoulders at the feeling. 

“Come for me, Austin. Come inside me. Come for momma.” 

One, two, three thrusts and you were both seeing stars. A string of curse words fell from his lips as he pumped his hot come into your cunt.  Your nails bit into his shoulders, no doubt leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. You trembled in his arms, over sensitive and catching your breath, and he was transported to another dimension—his long awaited orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks and the aftershocks pulled him closer to your skin as you both came down, clutching each other. 

You held his head to your chest, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings and praises as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting deeper into you. “That’s it, baby, let go. Did so so good. Love you so much, darlin’. So much.” His eyelashes fluttered against your neck and his breath and hips gradually slowed. He slowly kissed your collarbone before raising his head to look over your equally flushed face. 

“Shit,” he puffed, that post-orgasm glow highlighting his lopsided smile, “that was…” He couldn’t find the words. Seems you’d fucked him stupid. 

“Earth-shattering?” You finished for him with a smile. He chuckled. 

“Yes, ma’am. Earth-shattering.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that. 

You bit your lip and turned your gaze downward as you spoke. “So I—it wasn’t… too much?” Daring a glance up, you met his pretty blues again, slowly returning to their normal sea shade. You’d never really had the chance to let your dominant side out in the past, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d taken things too far with him. 

“Too much?” Austin repeated with a laugh. “Baby, listen to me carefully when I say this: you could have stepped on me and I’d have thanked you.” He grinned at the melodic laugh you let out at that. 

“You like it when momma’s in charge?” 

Austin grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” 

For a moment it was just you and Austin. You in his lap, his delicious cock still inside you, stroking his face, his fingers running up and down your arm.  This game had finally come to a close and you both dropped the personas you’d adapted for the fun and it really was just two people hopelessly obsessed with each other again. But one thing was sure: this had opened the door to an entirely new set of sexual experiences that you could have in the future.

After all, you still had those handcuffs that would need to be broken out every now and then, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they might feel like on your skin one day too.  

***

And that’s the story of how Austin found out he enjoyed being a sub.  The End.

#this is pure filth #he’s a switch who got in touch with his subby side #i love subby men #austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis movie #elvis presley #austin elvis imagine #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis film #austin butler x reader #austin smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #x reader #fanfic #fanfic smut #austin butler x you #sub!austin #austin butler imagine #now that no one is reading the tags anymore I wanna confess that this was far more impactful on me than I thought it’d be #and now I have a thing for men becoming whimpering messes #I’ve been agonizing over it for too long and finally said fuck it and posted it lol #and if you’re reading this take a sec to let me know how I can improve because I’m not 100% happy with this piece and want to get better #I’m rambling in the tags to procrastinate posting now aren’t I

[scarletwritesshit]

🍾 Gallagher & Stelle 🍾 Last Words

One of Stelle’s regular customers, Gallagher of the Bloodhound Family, dropped by that evening. He was a rather frequent visitor to the bar, and she saw him nearly every shift that she covered. With every concoction that she crafted for him, she felt as if Gallagher was silently judging her every move. He savored every sip carefully and observantly, but not once has he said anything blatantly negative. At the same time, she hardly received a solid compliment.

This time, however, his eyes had an aura of sadness to them. Rough day, Stelle assumed, as quite a bit of worn-out customers visit with the exact same look. But this look of his was…different in a sense, almost as if he was looking at Stelle with a deep sense of regret.

"Still coming in to work the rounds, eh?" Gallagher said, taking a seat.

"Not often," Stelle said, "but it’s still fun to take a shift when miserable monsters aren’t up your ass.”

"That was just a group of a few bad apples," Gallagher said with a hearty laugh. "Siobhan has spoken highly of how well you’ve handled them, especially considering how it was your first time bartending. Or, at least we think it was your first time."

"Trust me, I’ve never mixed anything that wasn’t powdered drink mix before."

"You’re an odd one, always full of secret skills and surprises. Perhaps, you could make me your best surprise yet."

"How?"

Gallagher slid a hefty stack of credits onto the table towards Stelle. "Mix me your best drink. And while you’re at it, mix up a lil’ something for yourself."

"My...best drink? How am I supposed to know what you want?"

"That’s the whole point. Show me that your skills as a bartender have paid off."

Stelle raised her eyebrows at Gallagher, still confused, but turned around to begin crafting that she thought that he may approve of. After a few moments of thought, she decided on a smoother blend, something not quite enough to knock him on the floor, but just enough to bring some calm to his old soul. She topped it off with a dash of sweetness to bring the old man a little bit of happiness.

For Stelle’s own drink, however, she had her heart set on one thing and one thing only; spiked SoulGlad. It was cheap and extremely easy to make, but the sweetness of mass produced soda combined with the tinge of alcohol was what Stelle liked best.

She sat both drinks down onto the table and topped them off with a straw and matching Robin cards. Afterwards, she walked around from behind the counter and took a seat beside Gallagher.

He held up his drink to a light behind the counter, rotating it around and thoroughly observing the carefully layered flavors. Then, he took a sip of it, taking another look at it after. Stelle watched, unable to consume her own drink as she began to sweat.

"You’ve come a long way, kid," he finally said.

Which felt a bit ironic to say given her hastily crafted spiked SoulGlad.

"...Is it to your liking?" Stelle asked.

"Ah…well…it’s perfect. I can hardly believe you were an amateur only a short time ago."

"I can’t be all that."

"You think that because you made yourself a simple concoction. This right here, is a work of true craftsmanship. Hell, you could just as easily take my place when I’m gone."

"When you’re gone?" Stelle asked. "You plan on quitting bartending completely?

"Kid, I dunno how to tell you this, but nothing lasts forever. Myself included. You’ll eventually be departing Penacony yourself, won’t you?"

Stelle nodded her head.

“See? We all have to move on eventually. For some of us, moving on means taking a step forward in our journey, but for others, it’s where our path comes to an end.”

“An end?”

Gallagher smiled as he swirled his drink and took a sip. He looked ahead and stared off into space as if he was reminiscing about something.

“Like I said, nothing lasts forever. You won’t I certainly won’t. And some of us are meant to end our story sooner than later.”

“Old man, you’re acting like you’re about to die,” Stelle said, taking a sip of her drink and smiling smugly at Gallagher.

“Well, you never know, kid. With all of this weird stuff going on in Penacony, I could be gone tomorrow. Which, reminds me as to why I’m here in the first place.”

Gallagher finished off the rest of his drink in one final, hearty gulp.

“I’m thoroughly impressed. I think you can handle this place in my steed just fine.”

Stelle was shocked to hear such high praise from Gallagher.

“Wait, you actually like my drinks?”

“If I hated them so much, do you really think I would keep coming back? Hell, if Siobhan didn’t shoo you away first, then I would’ve done so in a heartbeat.

“I guess I should feel honored then.”

Gallagher patted Stelle on the back. “You really should, kid.”

He stood up and pushed the stool in.

“You’re leaving already?” Stelle asked, looking up at him.

“Sorry to cut our meeting short, but what can I say? Even in our most fantastical dreams, we don’t have forever. You still have your whole life ahead of you. I’m just some old dog.”

“Don’t say that. Come on, stay a little while longer and I’ll make you another drink. On the house.”

“As much as I would like to, kid, I have to take my leave now. If only the circumstances of our meeting could’ve been better.”

As he left the bar, he waved to Stelle without looking back one last time. She still had yet to finish her drink, but at this point, she hardly had any interest in it. Her mind was preoccupied by Gallagher’s parting words. He was hell bet on this being his last visit to the bar, but why exactly? Where was he going, or more importantly, what was he hiding from her?

Whatever it may be, he was oddly nonchalant about it. Attempting to push his words out of her mind, Stelle forced down the rest of her drink. It felt wrong to dump the last drink that she had with Gallagher, even if she had completely lost interest in consuming it.  

Strange. How come a sugary drink all of a sudden tasted bittersweet?

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #stelle #hsr gallagher #gallagher

[roalinda]

Contribution to @prongsfoot-microfic

May 5 : Orange

A/N : I don't ship drarry. I don't ship Harry with anyone to be honest. He is here because I need him to be. xD also this is my first try in present tense, so I apologise in advance if it sucks.

***

James stares.

Yes, yes. Staring is rude. He knows it. He has been trying to drill it into his son's thick skull for years and now he is doing the exact same thing. But who can blame him?

There, in front of him on their fancy crimson sofa is Draco Malfoy in an extremely ugly neon orange robes accompanied with a pair of pink gloves which are supposed to complete his dashing look. He is fidgeting with the top of his wand, trying to hide it's snake handle and James would have laughed if he wasn't in an absolute shock.

Then there is Sirius. 

He is in full Black mode, cold and emotioess, his handsome face is so stony that James shudders. His husband can be very scary when he wants to. Make no mistake, it's hot and kinky in bed but other than that, let's say Merlin mercy.

"Why are you here, little Malfoy?" Sirius asks icily and James winces, innerly praising Malfoy for not running away like he is about to be bitten by a werewolf.

"I'm here to ask for your permission to date Harry." 

Unfortunately James is too busy praying Godric and Salazar to bestow him the gift of colour blindness to jump at Malfoy's throat. At least he has Sirius for it, although seeing him dealing with another Black is quite frightening and a bit amusing. James is not used to this side of Sirius since he had never had the pleasure of meeting his husband's family.

"and why should we grant you such permission?" 

"Because I love your son." 

James takes pity on Malfoy, he sincerely does. If he was  the receiving end of Sirius' cold eyes, James would have needed all his Gryffindor courage to survive, that's for sure.

"Do you think I would have let you set a foot in this house if you didn't?" Sirius' tone is not pleasant. "Let me rephrase it, do you expect us to permit someone whose sense of fashion is worse than a house elf date our son?" 

James nearly spits out his coffee on Malfoy's face, nearly being the keyword. Fortunately he doesn't. Thank Merlin for small mercies. He really should stop sitting in front of the guests.

Malfoy's pale cheeks are flushed and James clears his troath before something disastrous happens. He understands the protectiveness, he wants to choke Malfoy as well, but that brutal sarcasm of Sirius' is probably too much for the pampered little Malfoy. 

"All my robes are either silver or green. I didn't want to hurt your Gryffindor eyes Dear Sirs, but golden and crimson were out of question as well, eventhough I wanted to please you. These were the closest colours." 

James can't decide if the boy is brave or stupid to talk and hold Sirius' gaze like that. He is ready to jump in between them in case Sirius decides to hex Malfoy when shock hits him.

"Very brave of you to talk back with that Slytherin tongue of yours. You must have gotten it from your mother." 

Well, the Black problem is fixed now it seems. But that doesn't mean the Potter side is fixed as well. 

"Show me all your wand tricks, Mr. Malfoy. Let me see if your skill is worth my son's time," he says silently, rolling up his sleeves and picking up his wand.

This time Sirius winces. 

#Prongsfoot #Prongsfoot microfics #James potter #Sirius black #Yes sir they are married

[reve-writes]

—courtyard kisses. | hades game zagreus x reader.

he's trying to escape. again. you need to stop him. again.

IF IT WEREN'T FOR ZAGREUS, you wouldn't have to be posted at the House of Hades for most of the day—or night, you could never really tell in the Underworld. As much as you loved his company, Zagreus was always too stubborn for his own good. Now, his hard skull was fixated on escaping to the surface and many were already assigned by Lord Hades to do everything in their power to stop him.

“Ah, ___,” He greeted you as he dashed quickly into his bedroom, seeming slightly disheveled. You rolled your eyes, following him inside as he rinsed his face with the basin by his bedside.

“Pleasant trip?” You asked.

“As pleasant as the last twenty,” he replied, dabbing the water on his face dry with a towel. “I might go for the twenty-second trip.”

You collapsed on the quilted sofa in his room. “Seriously, Zag? Take the day off. I can't be bothered to fight you for the fifth time today.”

“This will be easier if you simply let me pass, my dear ___.” Zagreus leaned against the doorway to his courtyard, shooting a pleading look towards you.

“Stop looking at me like that. While you have no concerns with upsetting your father, some of us actually don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.”

“Well, in that case.”

He immediately dashed out of his room and you peeled yourself off of the chair, running after him. When you reached the courtyard, he was still standing there by the railing with an amused look on his face.

You groaned in frustration, pushing him by the chest until his lower back was pressed against the balustrade. “Get back inside, Zag.”

Zagreus chuckled, combing his dark hair back with his fingers. You thought your heart skipped a beat. “And if I don't?”

You unsheathed one of your blades—one half of your double-ended sword and held it in front of you. “We've done this dance before. You know I don't want to hurt you.”

The two of you treated it as a normal sparring session, although usually Achilles would be there overseeing Zagreus' training. Usually, neither of you would actually be dead, as well. However, Zag's escape attempts had all turned regularity into chaos.

“Me neither.” Zag raised both of his hands up in surrender. You lowered your weapon, thinking that at least, for today, Zagreus would just stop running amok in the Underworld, but you underestimated how stubborn he was.

With a swift motion, he had knocked the short blade out of your hand and twisted his body around you, so now you were the one pressed against the balustrade. Your hands were clutching the top of the railing. His calloused hands covered yours, applying slight pressure to keep you in place. Your thighs were slotted in-between his. The lack of space was both suffocating and exhilarating at the same time.

“What are you doing?” You asked, trying to wriggle free. You couldn't move an inch without brushing against him.

He leaned forward and you felt his breath on your face. Instinctively, you leaned backwards, away from him. He smiled smugly. “What do you want me to be doing?”

A flush crept up your neck as his mismatched eyes bore into yours. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss him. Blast. He was the Prince of the Underworld, dammit! You were not going to kiss him. You had known each other for most of your lives, anyway. It would be weird if—

“Let's make a deal, ___. I'll make sure Father doesn't know you're slacking on your guard duty.” He raised an eyebrow invitingly.

“You can't make sure of that,” you retorted, trying to push him off of you, but he didn't budge.

“He will be too busy being furious at me to care, ___. Moreover, do you really enjoy fighting me to death every time?” He emphasized his question with a frown.

You sighed, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “You know I don't, Zag.”

He hummed. Zagreus tilted your chin up with one hand, forcing you to look at him. He's beautiful, you thought. The ambient dark lighting of the underworld framed him perfectly, showing off his sculpted jaw and brushing against his dark hair.

Like this, he only needed to say the word and you would be willing to do whatever he required of you.

“If I have to fight you one more blasted time, I may actually lose my mind,” he whispered. His free hand slid up your arm, to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. While your heart was thumping so fast it could beat Hermes in a race, you held his gaze for one long moment, and then two.

“Okay, Zag,” you finally replied.

His eyes were unfocused, sliding down to stare at your lips. “Huh?”

“Let's make a deal,” you said. “I am frankly tired of fighting against you multiple times a day— Zag? Are you listening?”

“Can I kiss you?” He said that as if he was in a dream-like trance.

Did you mishear? Your eyes widened as his question registered and you subconsciously licked your lips.

“Stop kidding around, Zagreus.”

His different-coloured eyes shifted to stare into yours. He repeated the question once more, with the same stubborn look he would give you whenever you advised him against doing something.

“Can I kiss you, ___?”

The corners of your lips twitched upwards and you leaned forward, closing the gap between your lips. Your hands made their way up his chest to circle around his neck while he cradles your face, pressing his body against yours so impossibly close until all your senses were overpowered by him. You felt him everywhere on your skin. His taste lingered in your mouth. All you could hear was your own heartbeat and his gasps for breath.

His teeth caught your lower lip gently as he pulled away to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your hands tangled in his hair as he pressed your body towards him.

“Zagreus,” you sighed out when he gave the juncture of your neck a tentative bite.

It felt like forever until the two of you broke apart with racing breaths. His thumb swiped at your lips as he reluctantly pulled away from you, while still keeping an arm around your waist. You smiled at him, brushing your hand through his hair to comb out the messiness.

“We should have done that sooner,” Zagreus said, chuckling.

“This is one of the rare occasions when I think you're absolutely right.”

Zagreus smoothed out your outfit as he finally let go of you. You tugged at his chiton to fix it as you stole another peck from him.

“Go show them, Zag. I'll be here when you return.”

[ ].

#hades game zagreus x reader

[demdifferentstories-29]

20 Questions Game

Thanks for the tag, @bronzeagepizzeria <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

68!

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

734,052

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I really only write Doctor Who aside from a handful of other one-offs I've written, but I literally have at least a hundred WIPs/ideas in my drafts.

Fandoms that I have tons of ideas for are Broadchurch and Jessica Jones (TV series), which I hope to get around to publishing. But I have a fair bit of range hiding away haha.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

In descending order:

Broken-Hearted (cross-over with Broadchurch; multi-chapter; completed)

Braids (one-shot)

Desperate Measures (multi-chapter; completed)

Exes and Ohs (one-shot)

A Lesson in Romantic (AU; multi-chapter; completed)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Pretty much as soon as I can! I appreciate engagement so much and I want to make that known to commenters. Plus, I love a bit of banter and discussion where prompted - it's a delight!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oooo, boy. Probably Happy Together? Or maybe the first chapter of Sunburn? Violet Hill was also pretty sad. I love me some dark, heavy stories that fuck up my beloved blorbos.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Although I haven't updated in it in quite a while, I've written a fair bit of the sequels for the A Lesson in Romance universe, and, boy, have I made those two have a (mostly) happy life together.

In terms of published stories, I think Study Buddies would take the cake or one of the many TentooRose pieces I've done. The former is very classic, high school sweetheart vibes with just enough angst dashed in, and I tend to keep the latter sweet, fluffy and horny.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I received some very intense 'constructive' criticism whilst writing A Lesson in Romance - like I'm talking extremely long paragraphs pretty much deconstructing my writing and questioning my content. I was young at the time, it was my first multi-chapter Doctor Who fic, and the fact that this person also pretty much outright told me how I should write my story pissed me off a bit, so I, in the most polite way possible, asked them to stop reading my story and leaving these comments.

Aside from that? I've really only had one sort of bad comment since then, but I opted to not reply.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Oh, you know I do ;) I currently only write F/M; have explored M/M in the past so I'm down to write queer smut if the inspiration ever strikes.

I'm not really a fan of overly kinky stuff that is, say, explicit/specific (e.g. BDSM), but I don't mind stuff that is vaguely/lightly kinky (i.e. I tend to include voyeurism in my stories, but it's generally accidental). I mostly write either very horny or emotional, intimate stuff - I'm a sucker for the feelings associated with the couple.

It honestly depends on what kind of story I'm writing! But as of recent, I've been mostly producing first-time, emotion-heavy smut with a good serving of horniness/wantonness to build up the tension.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've written two - Broken-Hearted and Fobwatched (if you've been waiting for an update, I promise I think of her often... I'll revive her one day). I'd say BH is crazier, as it does entwine itself with the Human Nature storyline from Doctor Who, but Fobwatched has also had some pretty wacky moments!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, and I really hope not! I have, admittedly, been a bit fearful of it in recent months.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not to my knowledge! But I'm always open to that conversation if people are interested.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Back when I wrote band/music fanfiction (please forgive me for my crimes), I had started drafting out a fic with someone, but it never went anywhere and we didn't communicate very well either :,)

However, I have been beta-ing the lovely @quite-right-too's fic Dona Nobis Pacem, which has been a lovely collaboration <3 I'm so proud of Cody's work and highly recommend you read it if you haven't!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

It would probably be DoctorRose! I've never really been more enthralled with a ship before, and the fact that the special interest is still going strong three years on is a pretty good sign. I also tend to come back to Ellie and Alec from Broadchurch quite often.

In the past, I was a hardcore Reylo fan, and I've always enjoyed random, niche ships within my realm of interests (i.e. Evey and V from V For Vendetta; Jackson and Lisa from Red Eye; an array of ships from my horror movies because I love being delusional).

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Look, I'm quite stubborn in my belief that, ultimately, I will finish all my drafts, but I can say that the drafts from when I first started writing Doctor Who fanfiction have been quite difficult to work on because my writing has changed so much since then!

There are also maybe a WIP or two that I have written purely for myself and will never publish. I will probably take these to my deathbed lol.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hm, I've always been complimented for character accuracy, which I do think I have down pact - writing characters like Ten and Rose have gradually become more comfortable for me over the years and I feel like I know them quite well by this point, which is really surprising considering I've never done a proper rewatch of the show since finishing it aside from some scenes/particular episodes!

I've also always been very anal about detail in my stories - I love including the most unnecessary shit in my work!! Do you need to know what Rose had for breakfast? No. Are you gonna know anyway? YES!!! I just love making my stories feel as organic and lifelike as possible.

I've been working really hard on scenery recently, which I've been getting compliments on! I have aphantasia, so this is something I've put a lot of energy and focus into as I've come to realise it's pretty important for readers lol.

And, not to brag, but I do think I write some pretty banging smut. It's taken ten or so years of practice, but I got there in the end.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Eh, I feel I'm not super great at coming up with like... proper action/plot. Like I can do circumstances and events quite alright, but coming up with something like... say, escaping from a villain/bad situation, I've always felt pretty shit at accomplishing. However, I always try to improve.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I only speak English, so it's a bit daunting! But I just use Google Translate and consult others where possible. And, as Niyati has mentioned in her own post, I recently used her technique of writing from the non-speaker's perspective and it's been a welcome addition to my skills! Shout out, girlie <3

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It would've been 5SOS, but those fics are long gone - I deleted them from Wattpad, and the iPod that the original drafts are on doesn't work, unfortunately.

I also wrote about other bands that I listen to - Asking Alexandria, Of Mice & Men, You Me At Six, Pierce the Veil, and Bring Me The Horizon. I still have most of the drafts, but I deleted all but four of them from the internet lol (the ones that were deleted were unfinished works).

I don't write about these people anymore as I did come to realise, Wait a minute, it's kinda weird and gross to write about these people like this lol (no hate on anyone who does). But I'm always down to chat about my sordid past haha.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I would have to say "Come, gentle night, come" as it's probably the most amount of effort I put into writing. I think it's my best smut and cherish it deeply!

Tagging: @quite-right-too, @deardiary17, @insomniac-101, @metacrisisdoctor

#doctor who fanfiction #tenrose #doctorrose #timepetals #ao3 author #20 questions #tag game #thank you for the tag niyati <3

[moonwritewastaken]

Tales of Christmas Day 16 - cc!Karl Jacobs x gn!reader

Genre - strangers to lovers, Christmas, pen pals kinda

Word count - 718

We made it! It’s the last day of the 2022 edition of Tales of Christmas. I’m sorry if this one isn’t detailed enough, I kinda ran out of time 😅Thank you for coming on this journey with me and hopefully you enjoyed the festive imagines! I’ll probably take a little break over the festive period but I’ll still be working on stuff, I just probably won’t release anything for a lil bit. 

- 🌙

At the start of the year, you made a New Year’s resolution to be in a relationship for Christmas. It was mid November and you had pretty much come to terms with the fact that it most likely wasn’t going to happen if it hadn’t already. However, your best friend was ready for a last ditch effort. 

“You could always pull a Dash and Lily” you sit up from your position on the couch to make sure she knew how stupid you found that suggestion. 

“Yes, b/f/n because writing a note in a book and it coincidentally being seen by someone my age actually works in real life” she rolls her eyes at your sarcasm before replying. 

“Then why not try it and prove me wrong? You’ve got nothing to lose if you think no one will see it” you knew she was saying that to get you to do it, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be right. 

“Fine, if it’ll get you to shut up” her excitement makes you smile slightly. Although you knew it wouldn’t work, you still had a slither of hope. 

The two of you get to work soon after and it doesn’t actually take as long as you thought it might. She ends up suggesting you use a manga book since it was your favourite genre, and had the largest likelihood of attracting someone suitable (in her words at least). You decide to task the reader with leaving a bookmark with their favourite manga or anime written on it, to make sure they had good taste. Immediately after you’re done, she makes you drop it off at the library and inform the librarian of your plan. 

After a week of refusing to check it even though you were curious, you finally give in. Pulling out the book, you see something sticking out the top and see that someone actually responded. Not only did they give you answers to their favourite manga, they also wrote down their favourite anime as well as a task for you. You were tasked with going to your area’s MrBeast Burger and leaving what your favourite video game was, you wondered why they chose that location but you did as they asked. 

This back and forth continued for the rest of the month as well as into December and you had caught feelings, much to your chagrin and your best friend’s excitement. You knew an ‘I told you so’ was due any day now and you were not happy about it. 

Adding to your piling up emotions, Karl (as you had found out your pen pal’s name was) and you had agreed to meet at a specific café at 2pm today. Although part of you was excited to finally meet him after about a month, the majority of you was terrified. What if you didn’t like him? What if he wasn’t what you thought? Or worse, what if you did like him as much you thought?

By the time you calmed yourself down enough to prepare, you had to leave. Reaching the café at 1:52pm sharp, you walk in and survey the people sitting by themselves. As you’re doing so, you realise that you hadn’t even thought of the possibility that he mightn’t show up. What would you do then? You’re brought out of your thoughts by a guy about your age with fluffy hair coming up to you. 

“Are you y/n?” there was no way this was Karl. He was way too cute to even be near you, let alone asking to meet you. 

“I am. You Karl?” he gives you the prettiest smile you’ve ever and will ever see and leads you to a table. 

It was clear about 20 minutes into your meeting that he was exactly who you thought, but somehow better. The two of you got along great and you realised you had nothing to worry about, except the ‘I told you so’ from your best friend that you hadn’t received yet. 

“Do you want to go on an actual date nest time?” Karl asks you this as your meeting reaches it’s natural end. You quickly agree and you swap numbers so you’re able to schedule and continue talking. 

You weren’t sure how, but you actually achieved your New Year’s resolution. 

#karl jacobs #dream smp #dsmp #karl jacobs imagine #dream smp imagine #dream smp x reader #dsmp fluff #dsmp imagine #dtqk #dtqk x reader #dream smp fluff #x reader #karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs x reader #tales of christmas

[shybunnie20]

Check One Two - Eddie Munson x Female Reader | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2

Jealous!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Rockstar!Reader

★Part One ★My Masterlist

Fic Summary: When you joined the band last summer, no one had a clue that this is where you’d all be today. Who would’ve thought a small garage cover band would end up as the opener for Alice Cooper? Although, life on the road proves to be strenuous when your best friend Eddie crosses the line.

Author's Note: This is my first ever smut piece... a little nervous to post but I hope you enjoy it! Be sure to reblog, follow, and show some love ♡

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: MDNI 18+. Reader has skin tone that shows blushing, softdom!Eddie, fingering and oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie, praise kink, possessiveness, marking/hickeys, includes swearing, mentions of anxiety

Softdom!Eddie, fingering and oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie, praise kink, possessiveness, marking/hickeys, includes swearing, mentions of anxiety

tags: @protecteddiemunson4vr @haylaansmi

The four of you high-five while heading backstage, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. The celebratory post-performance interaction leaves Eddie to drift behind.

Donny slows his pace to walk beside him. “Great show, man,” He says with a trace of pity. It’s difficult to ignore the gray cloud looming over Eddie’s head while he mopes behind the whooping group.

“I owe her an apology, don’t I?” Eddie asks rhetorically.

“You know she didn’t sleep with that guy, right? All they did was smooch.”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans and runs his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair.

How could he be so stupid? He humiliated you over something that didn’t even happen. God knows you’re not oblivious of the times he’s taken a groupie into your shared dressing rooms to have his way with them. You’ve never given him grief about it, yet he shamed you for making out with someone.

Sitting in the director's chair in front of a vanity, you remove the heavy jewelry from around your neck. Eddie strolls into the dressing room with a generic foam coffee cup clutched in his hand. 

“Guys, can we have a minute?” He requests, motioning to the door. Your bandmates file out of the room without opposition, shutting the door behind them.

Your eyes roll in your skull and your body tenses at the sound of his voice. With the intention of ignoring him, you lean forward to grab the laces of your leather boots. It’s hard to imagine what he could possibly have to say to try and make up for his barbed accusation.

Eddie places the cup on the vanity beside you. “Look, I know you hate me right now and you have every reason to.” He kneels down and replaces your hands to untie your boots for you.

You bring the foam cup to your lips, leaving a scarlet lipstick kiss on the brim. A single sip of the chamomile tea brings you to a more peaceful state of mind. You were expecting it to be plain and scorching hot. Surprisingly, he prepared it just the way you like. Very warm, but not hot, with two tablespoons of honey and a dash of lemon juice. The toasty liquid soothes your stressed vocal cords.

“I wish I did.” You say firmly to the top of his head before taking a long swig.

Eddie’s fingers work fast on the laces and he slips your boots off. For a moment, his breath catches in his throat. The sight of your pedicured feet caged in fishnet tights is hot, to say the least. An image slips into Eddie’s mind before he can stop it. You sprawled out on your bed and his hands ripping a hole in the tights to gain access to your… Stop it.

You continue, “I want to. Hate you, that is.” 

It’s true. You really wish you could hate him, but you’re unable to. One particularly fond memory is holding you back from it. At the beginning of the tour, you were a nervous wreck. Understandably so, because your life had practically changed overnight. Eddie had never seen you like that before. He’d never seen you impacted by anxiety to the extent of hyperventilating. There were only a few minutes left until it was time to take the stage and the countdown weighed heavily on your conscience. Eddie pulled you aside and caressed your waist. “Hey, shhh. Focus, look at me. Breathe, c’mon take deep breaths.” You didn’t have to say anything, he knew exactly what was on your mind. Squeezing your hand wasn’t going to be reassuring enough this time around. “You rock harder than anyone I know. You’re gonna be great, I promise. I’ll be right there beside you, ‘kay?”

Eddie looks up at you from the floor and your eyes dart away, avoiding his face at all costs.

There’s a knock at the door and Gareth pokes his head back into the room. “Y’guys gonna watch Vincent play tonight?” He likes to think he’s on a first-name basis with the headliner, THE Alice freaking Cooper.

Eddie peers over his shoulder with an exasperated sigh. Sure, he’d asked for a minute alone with you but he expected more than sixty seconds. “No, we’re good. Go have fun.” Gareth nods and disappears.

Eddie gets to his feet. “Can we go talk on the bus? It’s more... private.”

Behind the curtain divider to your room, you change into more comfortable clothes. Eddie sits on the couch in the front lounge, bouncing both of his legs. “You know I’m sorry right? Did I say that already?”

“No, you didn’t.” You tug the curtain open and plop onto the bed, laying on your back to stare at the ceiling. In your peripheral vision, you see Eddie hesitate before sitting on the edge of the bed with his back facing you

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why the fuck did you say it?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Eddie digs his elbows into his knees, holding the weight of his head in both hands. “I guess I thought-”

“You thought what?” You scoff. Eddie’s outburst this afternoon revealed exactly what was on his mind, but you want to hear him say it. He owes you that much.

“I don’t know! I mean, you’re the kind of girl that all guys want and-” He can’t even finish his sentences when your fiery responses are biting his words short. 

“Wait a sec, you were jealous!”

Eddie stands swiftly and clutches his forehead. “I was not jealous! I just-”

“You’re being awfully defensive for someone who’s not.” You prop yourself up on your elbows and furrow your brow. It’s all starting to make sense now.

It feels like eons since the last time you looked him in the eyes, despite it only having been a couple of hours. Your unforgiving gaze grips him like Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth, his walls crumble under the weight of your attention. “I didn’t-I don’t want anyone to have you.” There’s no malice in his voice, instead, it hums with insecurity.

His confession hangs in the air like fog, fumigating the bitterness you’ve been feeling. The stunned expression on your face causes Eddie’s shoulders to lower from their tense state. “You’re blushing.”

You hide your face with your arms, falling backward onto the bed from the loss of support. “No way in hell! I do not blush.” Oh, but you do. If he could, Eddie would paint the sky with the rosy color of your flushed cheeks.

He stands at the foot of the bed by your extended legs and traces light patterns on your skin. Instinctively, you pull your knees upward toward your body, running away from his touch. Eddie leans down onto the bed and grabs your ankle.

You lower your arms and peek briefly before you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Eddie laughs playfully as he takes your hands and pulls you to sit upright. Your limbs flail uncooperatively like a rag doll.

“Look at me,” Eddie begs with a pout.

You comply, looking up as he stands tall over you. A fixture emits light from behind, cascading his frizzy curls with an amber glow. A grin stretches across his lips while he caresses the side of your neck and drags soft strokes with his thumb along your jaw.

“I ache for you.” He admits with a lustfully deep tone. “Y’know that, don’t you?”

All of the feelings you had at the start of your friendship are resurfacing. Your breath hitches when he bites down on his bottom lip, losing himself in your eyes.

Part of you is having a tough time processing this. Outside of Hawkins Eddie can pull just about anyone he wants, without even name-dropping the tour headliner. Being a guitarist undoubtedly entices women. Particularly beautiful women, at that. He must be messing around like always. He can’t seriously be choosing you over a buffet of chicks.

The expression on your face is all too familiar to Eddie. Despite not being able to read your mind he has an idea of what’s going on in your head.

“Only you.” He articulates with a firm tone. “Got it?”

His sentiment sinks into your skin, the apples of your cheeks blotted with the rosy tint he adores so much. You bat your eyelashes at him and quirk the corner of your mouth into a grin. “Is that so?”

When he nods “yes,” you scoot to the center of the bed and lay back. 

Without missing a beat, Eddie crawls onto the bed and settles between your legs. His arms press firmly into the mattress as he hovers over you.

“Don’t be shy.” You coax by placing one of his hands on your bare thigh. “Touch me.”

The way you flinch at the cold of his rings against your skin lights a fire in his belly. Eddie isn’t certain that he isn’t dreaming right now. He’s fantasized about similar scenarios but never thought they could be anything more than his imagination. Reality proves itself when you grind your wanting heat against the zipper of his jeans in search of friction. Holy shit, this is really happening. After a quick lick of his plush lips, he presses them tenderly to yours.

Of all the things he’s daydreamed about doing to you, kissing you for the first time was what he longed for most. The taste of your lips is just as he’d hoped and it’s sweetened by the lingering flavor of honey from your tea.

Eddie can’t help but let out a groan when your hands snake under his shirt. Your fingertips imploring him for more affection. Desire burns relentlessly between your legs when he pulls back.

He shifts his weight upward, toying with the waistband of your cotton shorts. His eyes fall from yours as they trail down your midsection. Eddie takes notice of the red flannel shirt you’re wearing, the one you swiped from him months ago.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, ya little thief.” He titters.

Before you can proclaim your innocence he releases the elastic waistband, letting it snap against you. Your whimper is captured by his mouth as he gives you a fleeting kiss. Your fingers drift over his navel to fumble with his belt buckle but you’re promptly prevented.

Eddie shakes his head and whispers, “Not yet, sweetheart.” Without warning, he pulls your shorts off and tosses them aside.

You pin your knees together, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his love-sick gaze. Eddie gives you a comforting look and strokes your calf with his fingertips. Then he guides your knees apart, spreading your legs open for him. Pressure swirls in his chest as his eyes descend on your partially undressed figure. 

The buttons of the red flannel are undone with your unsteady fingers, but you don’t take it all the way off. You separate it enough to reveal your sternum, to show Eddie that you’re not wearing a bra underneath his shirt. It’s a subtle tease, but it’s more than enough to beckon him.

Eddie leans forward and places sloppy kisses at the bottom of your neck and trails them between your breasts. You gasp at the sensation of his index and middle finger pressing against the wet spot on your panties, his thumb rubbing your clit over the fabric.

“So wet already.” He purrs, continuing to kiss sloppily up your neck. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

If you could, you’d try to hold back but the fact is, you’re melting at his touch. Eddie has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. There’s no point in trying to hide it.

Eddie pauses by your ear, his hot breath searing the side of your face. “You like it when I play with your pussy, baby?”

You’ve been called a plethora of pet names by Eddie, but nothing tops this new one. A faint “uh huh” falls from your lips as his thumb rubs a little harder, keeping the motion to a tight circle.

“More,” you plead breathily. 

The sudden absence of his fingers makes you cry out pathetically. Your desperate plea is met with a soothing tone. He can see the effect that the nickname has on you and it encourages him to lay it on even thicker. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you, baby. Imma give you what you need, what you deserve.”

Eddie sucks a bruise onto your neck, unofficially marking you as his. A hickey to show the world how he feels about you. He sits up on his knees to take off your underwear. Before he does, he looks at you for approval. 

You nod eagerly, “Pretty please.”

His fingers grip the band of your panties before he pulls them off. This time you don’t feel the need to hide and you spread your legs readily. For a moment he feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience. His face tells all, unable to look away from your slick entrance that calls for him.

“Earth to Eddie.” You giggle, gliding your fingers through your arousal, resuming the stimulation.

He shakes his head and blinks hard as if to pull himself out of a daze. “Just taking in the view, don’t mind me.”

Eddie flashes you a smile and takes off his shirt, then lays on his stomach. Wrapping one hand underneath your leg to grasp the top of your hip. The scent of your heat makes his cock twitch, fighting for room to grow in his jeans. As if exhaling cigarette smoke, he blows a steady stream of air against your clit.

When his mouth latches onto you, your entire body shudders. His tongue works quickly at licking like you’re a melting ice cream cone, not wanting to waste a single drop of you. Two of his fingers tease your slit before they gradually push inside and he fingers you at a slow and steady pace.

The empty tour bus is filled with melodic moaning. Your singing has always sounded softer than velvet to Eddie, but the noises that are spilling out of you transcend anything he’s ever heard before.

With your head thrown back in bliss, the ceiling fades. The only thing keeping you sane is the fistful of his curls clutched in your hand. Every little tug at his hair causes him to hum against you, amplifying the ache in your core.

Your breathing shallows, nearing the clifftop of your climax. “Ed, I’m I-”

His eyes flutter open, dark irises looking up at you from the junction of your thighs. He lifts his mouth for a brief second to catch his breath before diving back in. His fingers quicken with force and they curve to reach your sweet spot.

Up until now, you couldn’t stop making noise. But with the change in pace, it feels like your release is trapped in your throat. In a matter of seconds, you leap off of the cliff with a whimpering moan. Your orgasm freezes every muscle except the ones in your legs. They quake under Eddie’s softening grip. 

Using his thumb, he rubs the top of your thigh to guide you down from your high with comfort. “You taste so good, baby.” He praises, licking your glossy sugar from his lips.

Your eyes are closed as you pant quietly. Releasing his hair from your grasp, you comb through it with your fingers. “Tha-that was,” you clear your throat, “commendable.”

Eddie smiles and places a kiss on your clit, the overstimulation causes you to squeal. He laughs and kisses upward from your pelvis to your ribs. The flannel shirt managed to stay in place through your squirming. Eddie sucks his teeth and shakes his head. It’s unacceptable that he hasn’t paid your breasts any attention yet. You open your eyes and crane your neck to look at him.

Using his teeth, he bites a button on each side and pulls the flannel away from your chest, earning an exasperated giggle from you. Your amusement is interrupted by a gasp when he sucks on your peaked nipples.

Your back arches and your legs wrap around his waist, forcing his body flush against yours. Your hands brush his flexed shoulder muscles and wander down his back. The warmth of your palms exploring his skin causes him to grow harder. Eddie groans in discomfort from his pants restricting his bulge. “These have to come off, I can’t take it anymore.”

After shedding his pants and boxers, he crawls back between your legs. Retracing his kisses from your waist, belly, exposed breasts, neck, and then mouth. The kiss starts off gentle but grows feverish when his tip rubs through the slick between your legs. You reach down and wrap your hand around his base.

“You see what you do to me? I want you so bad.” Eddie says with a heavy exhale. The tension in his chest eases with each languid pump of your hand.

You guide his length to your opening, teasing the sensitive head with your thumb.

Eddie’s chocolatey eyes dart between yours, doing his best to soak in the intimate moment. After gliding your hands up his sides, you rest your open palms against his pecs. His own hand caresses your cheek. Eddie lowers his hips, pushing inside you inch by inch. “Jesus! Fuck- so tight. You feel so good…” He grunts through his clenched teeth.

A sharp burst of air fills your lungs at the dazzling sensation of him stretching you out. The numbing ache in your core subsides as he lays still to let you adjust to his size. With a few soft kisses placed on your cheek, he drags his hips away and forwards. Each thrust is smoother than the last as he builds momentum. A faint whine falls from his lips every time he sinks back into you.

You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the feeling that’s rippling through your body. Eddie won’t have any of that.

“Let me see those pretty eyes. Look at me.”

Being the good listener that you are, you comply with his command. You smile at him and dig your grip into his pecs. He returns the smile with a hint of mischief. You didn’t have long enough to question it before he lifts your leg over the bend of his arm, allowing him to bottom out.

“Oh my god!” You moan loudly, fingernails digging crescents into the ridges of his shoulders.

“Fuck, baby. That’s my good girl. Take it, just like that.”

The tuft of curls at the base of his length glisten with your arousal. Your hand slithers down to rub your clit. When you do, you tighten around him. He lets out another whimper, unabashedly. Typically he isn’t this vocal, but making love to you for the first time is sending him into a realm beyond time and space as you know it.

Eddie buries his face in your neck and sucks harshly to leave a second mark while quickening the speed that he drills into you. The bus encapsulates the lewd sounds being created: the slapping of skin making contact, the choked-back grunts that rumble from his chest, the squeaking springs of your mattress. Eddie keeps his head buried in your shoulder, hiding his furrowed brows and slack jaw. His hushed cursing brings you to the edge of climaxing again.

Eddie groans against your pulse, panting as his thrusts get sloppy. “Agh-shit. I’m so fucking close-”

You grab a fistful of his hair and yank hard. “Cum for me, baby.” You whisper in his ear.

When he hears you call him baby his thrusting stutters. Your orgasm punches through you once more and his thrusting halts as he fills you with his spend. He breathes heavily, pulling his face from your neck to look into your eyes. Both of you wearing exhausted, fucked-out smiles, Eddie places a soft kiss on the plum colored bruises that decorate your neck.

“Wow. I guess jealousy is a great motivator for you, huh?” You giggle and brush away the sweaty bangs that cling to his forehead.

Eddie laughs and tucks your hair behind your ear. You share a long and deep kiss, savoring the taste of your sugar and his spit. He pulls out and falls onto the bed beside you. He pulls you close, arm around your shoulder and you curl up to his chest. Your perspiring bodies slightly stick to one another.

His eyes settle on your naked bodies pressed together. Trying to memorize each curve and dip of your body. Even when you’re sweaty and tuckered out, you’re still the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen. His enamored heart thumps in his chest and you listen closely with your ear against him.

“I’ve never felt like this before, the way that I feel about you.” Eddie’s hand strokes your arm soothingly.

Your muscles are taxed, not having the physical strength to look at him. “I’d be yours if you asked.” You state meekly.

“You wanna be my girl?” Eddie’s finger guides your chin for you to look him in the eyes. He searches yours for an answer. He shouldn’t be nervous. He isn’t expecting to be rejected but his confidence falters. Your friendship means the world to him, but he can’t be friends anymore. 

You nod “yes” and place a kiss on his subtly swollen lips.

Eddie chuckles and strokes your hair, embracing you with every bit of energy he’s got left. “Gi melethig.” You are my love.

You contort your face in confusion to the gibberish that danced from his tongue. “What?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just know… you’re my girl, all mine!” He declares, smothering you with kisses.

★Part One ★My Masterlist

★Ko-fi ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fics #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson x you #corroded coffin #fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddiemunson #strangerthings #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie the banished #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #st4 eddie #eddie x fem!reader #netflix series

[petal-monster]

Relics of a Digital Haven

some thoughts about an old MMO i used to play

>> Read on Neocities <<

---

During my adolesence I spent entirely too much time playing an MMO called Spiral Knights. A charming hack and slash with a delightful aesthetic, it holds a special place in my heart as many such formative virtual spaces do. Existing at the tail end of what may really have been the last vestiges of online games as social spaces, it is for many people a space in which they made lasting friendships, for some of us a space in which we first experimented with who we were. And not unlike those of us who shed facets of ourselves we found no longer fit in those digital realms—Spiral Knights like most games developed update to update—underwent similarly dramatic changes during the time I knew it.

In 2011 Spiral Knights introduced a horror-themed level type called Candlestick Keep, an abandoned library haunted by the game's undead enemies. Unique to this level are the Grimalkins, a special kind of foe that serve to distinguish Candlestick's tone by circumventing the rules enemies in Spiral Knights normally have to follow. They can traverse through terrain as if it wasn't there, and ignore both weapons and shields, meaning the player can only flee from them. Also unique to Candlestick is a torch mechanic, where players light up safe zones these pursuers can't venture into, thus the level develops a specific eb and flow as you retreat to and from pockets of safety while solving puzzles. The result is an experience that by drawing light inspiration from Survival Horror games, exists in stark juxtaposition to the rest of Spiral Knights—it feels uniquely tense and nerve wracking.

Or at least, it did in the year it was introduced. In 2013 Spiral Knights received one of its largest updates, a major overhaul that among many other mechanics, introduced a dash to the player's moveset. Suddenly it became possible to simply dart through a grimalkin without consequence, and with this feature alone the scary atmosphere that once defined this set of levels totally dissipated. Playing through Candlestick Keep today is a strange and disjointed experience—a relic of a time when Spiral Knights was a different game.

The Arcade is an area situated at the top of Haven, Spiral Knight's social hub. In the early days of the game's lifespan it was a bustling hub of activity as it served as the gateway into the levels that comprised the meat of Spiral Knight's content—and more than that the playerbase would actively fight over the arrangement of these levels by spending resources they could acquire while adventuring. This was an illustration of how, in its early days, Spiral Knights was designed around the idea that players should have a real material influence on the game world. But over the course of 2012 a series of updates introduced an entirely separate narrative progression players advanced through by participating in preset "Missions" that were accessed directly from the game's UI. This subsequently rendered the function of the arcade inert, with the random levels mostly serving as a novelty. And then in 2013 the same update that brought the dash to the game also removed the ability for players to influence level arrangement—which brings us to today, where the entire arcade sits abandoned at the edge of Haven—a relic of a time when Spiral Knight was a different game.

Of course at this point, Spiral Knights itself is a relic. Over a decade old now, very little remains of the original development team who have since left to other studios, and the playerbase has dwindled to but a tiny fraction of what it was in its heyday. As a result, much of the game's servers are totally empty. While the Arcade is abandoned by virtue of its vestigial design, the rest of Haven has been abandoned by the passage of time.

There's a unique beauty to the remnants of manmades structures worn down by the passage of time. The melancholy of seeing their purpose erode, their foundations laid bare. They are relics of a time when the world was a different place. Over the past decade urban exploration has seen a huge explosion in popularity, whether it be those of us entering these concrete skeletons ourselves, or the proliferation of content online allowing anyone to experience those sensations vicariously. It's the drive to chase that emotion that motivates us to clamber into forgotten architecture as much as I suspect it also motivates the creation of post-apocalyptic media—we are entranced by the visage of ruin.

Online spaces however, don't age in the same way that those built of brick and mortar do. So as long as you can connect to them, they remain a window into a world from years ago, unchanged in all the time that's past. The abandonment of a physical space reflects in how it appears to the world—the abandoment of a digital space has no such influence, they are moments eternally etched into time.

Candlestick Keep is according to the blog post that accompanied its introduction, "the remnants of the once prosperous Owlite Academy, now overrun by undead horrors". It is literally a constructed haunted mansion, put together by developers to make you feel scared. But that's all it ever was, a construction. A spooky video game level made to be haunted by spooky video game monsters, it was never really a place, it never actually got abandoned.

Haven however, is supposed to be a communal hub. Its a bright cheerful place players used to socialize within. But as you stand in it today—this space so obviously built for people—you are keenly aware that you stand alone. The city hasn't changed in all these years... but the people are gone. Only Haven itself remains—a relic from when Spiral Knights was a different game.

#spiral knights #mmo #virtual space #gaming #video games #essay #short essay

[neonganymede]

WIP Wednesday #17

Another snippet from the next chapter of Bad Decisions!

“I can’t believe Laura’s alive,” said Sigma as he chewed around a mouthful of semi-stale popcorn. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been playing the game at this point, but he did know that they should have spread their snacks out a little more.

“Well, I can’t believe that Fyodor gets to have all the fun with Laura! It should be me playing her!” Nikolai complained woefully, as though crushed by such an obvious and devastating realization.

“And why is that?” Fyodor asked, deadpan. He’d leaned away from the two of them the moment Nikolai freed Sigma’s hair from its bun and began to braid it, irritated by Nikolai’s constant motion. He’d stolen the blanket and wrapped himself up entirely, only his face visible now.

“That should be obvious!” Nikolai tugged Sigma’s hair a little too hard; Sigma winced, his elbow shooting back instinctively to dig against Nikolai’s ribs. The only acknowledgment he received that Nikolai even noticed was a sloppy kiss to the top of his head before Nikolai continued, “She wears and eyepatch. I wear an eyepatch.”

“You aren’t wearing it now,” Sigma pointed out, but that only got him another sting of pain as Nikolai pulled on his half-woven braid.

“She was practically made for me to play her!” Nikolai claimed mournfully. He leaned toward Fyodor, taking an unwilling Sigma with him, so he could pout directly in Fyodor’s line of sight. “Fedya, won’t you switch with me? You can be Kaitlyn!”

Fyodor, with a heavy sigh, paused the game to consider Nikolai’s offer. He wore a frown, but even with the dark shadow Nikolai cast over his face, his eyes looked striking and thoughtful. A soft hum left him, the moment of consideration enough to have Sigma’s chest aching with dejected anticipation.

“Fedya, don’t!” Sigma argued, still clinging to the hope that Laura might survive to see the end of the game. It was a shame that Max had died so early, but he could at least want to save one of them, right? “He’ll just get her killed!”

“I’d never!” Nikolai gasped, scandalized, and gave Sigma a tight squeeze. “Need I remind you that I haven’t killed anyone! It’s mostly been dear, sweet, well-meaning Sigma!”

“Not on purpose!” Sigma wailed, squirming weakly in Nikolai’s grasp. He quickly gave up trying to escape and just slumped, sulking, and avoided Fyodor’s eyes. He didn’t want to watch the decision to happen in real time, didn’t want to see all of his hopes for even one survivor dashed so definitely.

“Laura will be completely safe in my hands!” Nikolai promised with a hand over Sigma’s heart instead of his own; Sigma didn’t have the energy to point out that he didn’t think that was how swearing worked.

Fyodor contemplated the offer for a moment longer before his shoulders lifted into a small, impassive shrug. “No.”

Nikolai’s mortified gasp sounded through the room, his eyes misting with shock and betrayal. He clutched at Sigma, hugging him the way one would cling to a teddy bear for comfort, and Sigma hoped that his head didn’t pop off.

“But Fedya!” Nikolai wailed, heartbroken. Sigma was sure he saw tears now. “Why not?! I’ve been so good this whole time!”

A claim that Sigma would dispute if he wasn’t gasping for air.

#wip wednesday #bsd sigma #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd nikolai gogol #doa play the quarry #everybody thank quinn for helping make this decision #i feel like this isn't as fun as some of the other parts so sorry if it's underwhelming ^^; #also ignore that i didn't post this on wednesday #it's okay. we can pretend~

[jewwyfeesh]

STAR'S WAR - 5

Writer: Mitsuki

Characters: Shino Hajime, Mashiro Tomoya, Tenma Mitsuru, Nito Nazuna, Tsukinaga Leo

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

EN Proof by: royalquintet (twt)

Leo: Relax, I swear upon my honour as a knight that I will never, ever let go of your hand!

[ ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Location: Outside the Amusement Park

Mitsuru: Dash dash dash~ I’m back!

Nazuna: Mitsuru-chin! You’re back later than we’d thought — what happened?

Mitsuru: Nahhhh it’s because I bumped into Anzu-nee-chan and Leo-chan-senpai, and we ended up chatting.

Tomoya: So the one singing on the rollercoaster was Tsukinaga-senpai…?

Mitsuru: That’s right. Leo-chan-senpai lost a competition during ‘Spotlight Time’, and received a punishment to sing while on the rollercoaster. He also had to film it and upload it!

Nazuna: Unnya?! That sounds really hard… Isn’t it difficult to resist the urge to scream while on a rollercoaster?

Hajime: Yeah… It’s fairly easy to go off-tune; not to mention managing your expression! The whole thing even has to be videotaped for repeated public executions… Scary…!

Mitsuru: Not to worry! Leo-chan-senpai looked really happy and energetic!

Hajime: …?

Location: Inside the Amusement Park

Leo: Ehh~ Anzu, why do you look so constipated?

You’re saying that this is the programme’s punishment segment, but because I’m too happy, it seems as though it became a prize of some sort?

Wahahaha ☆ It’s only fair; I only lost because the organisational team came up with all those weird questions.

Therefore, I turned the punishment into a prize! This is to be expected!

Hold on! I can feel the inspiration about to burst forth… But I’m really just missing that last little spark…! Seems like I’ll need to go on the rollercoaster again!

You’re asking why I’m holding your hand and dragging you towards the rollercoaster? Well, it’s because I wanna ride it with you! Space travel isn’t fun without a companion by your side!

Anzu’s just about wrapped up the filming work, right? After that, we can use the time to go free and easy ♪

Relax, I swear upon my honour as a knight that I will never, ever let go of your hand!

Haha, you won’t be scared like this, right~ If you get nervous on the rollercoaster, you can grip my hand tighter, it’s okay ☆

Also also, other than the rollercoaster, there’s the pirate ship, merry-go-round and ferris wheel… They’re all things I wanna ride with Anzu at least once!

When we��re tired, we can go buy some snacks and split them between ourselves! Sounds good, doesn’t it~

Aaaah! Just thinking about it… the Inspiration is flowing non-stop… ♪

Anzu, lend me your notebook for a sec—

Wahahahaha, the world’s best song has been composed! It was thanks to Anzu that I could find my inspiration, and on top of that even used your notebook, so I’ll name it after you~

So, this song is completed by the both of us! Anzu, you’d better come watch the formal recital ♪

[ ☆ ]

← Chapter 4 | Story Masterlist

#enstars translation #legend of the galactic idol #Shino Hajime #Mashiro Tomoya #Tenma Mitsuru #Nito Nazuna #Tsukinaga Leo

[sunshinedaysforever]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag Taka! (@picnokinesis) also this made me realize tumblr has been lovingly hiding other tags I’ve received so sorry to anyone who’s tagged me lately, I straight up haven’t been seeing them haha

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 

36

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

558,710

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Doctor Who mostly, but I’ve dipped my toe into Good Omens and Critical Role, and I used to be a star wars girly. Currently MASH of all things has me in a death grip, so we’ll see where that goes

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

time to change the road you’re on, for those who stand long, non sum qualis eram, he who wins shall lose, and The Fisher King Comes Home. (Yikes! A lot of star wars, and a lot of old fic, haha. if you read, keep that in mind.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

 I do try, but honestly it fills me with the same feeling as answering emails does, and I tend to worry that I’m bothering people. I really do appreciate them, though.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm, probably pas de deux, which unfortunately aligns with canon haha. And I remember some people were upset with the ending of time to change the road you’re on, but I always felt the ending was more ambiguous than angsty

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Honestly, I think most of them are fairly happy, or at least not devastatingly sad

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually - sometimes people with absolutely wild star wars opinions (those always leave me with a bit of a 'ma’am this is a wendy’s' feeling KJHDFGLFG) or people who didn’t like 13 very much (again, like, ma’am, this is a wendy’s). I don’t really care though, I’m liberal with the block button

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nah, I’m like if a repressed victorian gentleman was a lesbian if i ever saw an ankle irl I'd probably faint dead away

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I wouldn’t tend to, but I did try a Star Wars/Doctor Who mashup once, and honestly it sort of worked (I hope!). Back in the day a friend and I were cooking up a Line of Duty/Doctor Who crossover, but it never quite got its feet

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don’t think so

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I believe into Russian a few times

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

None that has ever seen the light of day 

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I’m not really a shipper. I like 13 and Yaz, and I’m partial to some golden oldies (Mulder and Scully, Xena and Gabrielle, Kirk and Spock, etc etc), but I’ll read whatever

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

 nothing beside remains HAUNTS ME moreso than other unfinished fics I’ve got floating around still. If I ever have time again, I’d tackle it, but I didn’t have a solid plan for it and so it’s languishing in the meantime

16. What are your writing strengths?

I make references to modernist literature that would make the greats roll in their graves, I think, which has to be a good thing right? T.S. Eliot Would Want This. i like to think along the way maybe i've given some of you a passable understanding of how post-cold war european integration has failed, as well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m a fan of shortcuts, to my detriment. And sometimes I think I make assumptions that aren’t as universal as I think haha. I’m a great abuser of commas, and I never met an em dash I didn’t like, also to my detriment.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Not typically a fan of it, unless it serves a practical purpose

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

jamais vu.

thanks again for the tag taka! I'll tag @gabeorelse, @hellynz, @revisionerydoesthings and of course whoever else would like to do it

#taka it's hilarious you of all people tagged me that question about collabs was POINTED #maybe one day our wip graveyard will rise from the dead

[hopeswriting]

Fic Writer Interview

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i saw this tag game on my dash and thought it’d be fun to do, so here we go!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

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78!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

[Plain text: “2. What’s your total AO3 word count?“ in bold. /End PT]

569,922!

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

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1. Whose Murderous Toddlers are These?? (822 kudos - khr)

2. i love you (you never say it back, but that's not the point) (698 kudos - khr)

3. Take your Hands off our Cloud (662 kudos - khr)

4. Local Immortal Meal Near You (531 kudos - khr)

5. this can't be happening (it is) (520 kudos - khr)

(i have always been and still am surprised of how well Take your Hands off our Cloud and Local Immortal Meal Near You do. i mean, top 5?? damn, thanks so much guys. 🙏🏽💖)

(Whose Murderous Toddlers are These?? also tbh, but in a different way where i can see exactly why it does so well at the same time.)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

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yeah i do, always and to all of them!! i’m always super grateful for them and to people taking the time to leave me one, so i feel like the least i can do to show that gratefulness is taking the time myself to acknowledge them by answering them!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

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When does a Saint Become a Monster? hands down. and tho the fic was always gonna be angsty, it wasn’t planned at all to make it that angsty, but then that’s just where the fic ended up taking me haha. anyway, i still am and will forever be incredibly proud of this tragedy in three acts.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

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it’s gotta be this can't be happening (it is), i think. like generally speaking all my fluff stories have happy endings, and i wrote many of those, but i think tcbh just really takes the cake by being the superior good arco timeline/skull being showered in love fic i’ve written so far.

7. Do you write crossovers?

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i do! i wrote two of them so far, a khr x tua one and a khr x hp one. i’d also like to try my hands at a khr x atla crossover one of these days, but i don’t think crossovers will ever become something i’ll do on a regular basis at all.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

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thankfully no, i haven’t.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

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just the once, yeah! as such i have no idea what kind it was because i’m a complete beginner at them lol. but idk, i guess it was the average kind? the kind with average smuttiness in it. the vanilla kind, maybe? anyway, you get it lol.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

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not that i’m aware of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

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yeah, twice!! Please, be (one of) my fake partner has been translated both in Vietnamese and Spanish!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

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nope, tho i think it’d be a real fun thing to do. and if one day i ever feel comfortable enough and ready to try it, i’d love to!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

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hmm, i don’t think i have one? i kind of, well, not exactly move on from them because they’ll always pull at my heartstrings and i’ll always hold them close to my heart, but i shipped different ships at different times of my life i could have called my all-time favorite ships (did that just make sense lol?). so right now i’d say colonnello/skull (khr) is my all-time favorite ship!

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

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honestly, none of them. like genuinely, both the wips i already published and the ones i have yet to alike, i fully intend to finish them eventually and really don’t feel at all like i’ll never succeed in doing so. now some of them will take time to finish, for sure, will take years and maybe even decades to finish, but as of now i’m confident i’ll be able to finish all of them anyway!

15. What are your writing strengths?

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characterization, i think! i like to write the characters the same way they were written and that made me fall in love with them as much as possible, and i seem to be quite successful at it haha. or at least, so far no one thought i failed badly at it enough to let me know about it.

i’m really good at showing feelings/emotions too, at really diving into them and into how it affects the characters and why and how they came to feel that way to begin with. it’s also one of my absolute favorite thing to do when it comes to writing, so i guess it’s fortunate i happen to be good at it too lol.

on that note i think i’m not too bad at writing and portraying dynamics between the characters either. so basically i guess i feel quite confident with things that come to characters? i’m definitely a character-driven stories type of writer for sure!

oh wait, humor also! and it never fails to surprise and delight me whenever i’m told it hit the mark because i’d definitely wouldn’t call myself a funny person. outside writing, that is, apparently, and maybe i’m a little proud of it haha.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

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description was the first thing that came to mind lol. and, well, as much as i don’t think i necessarily fail at them, they’re for sure nothing worth talking about, that’s for sure lol.

dialogues too, tho i came a long way from being reluctant to write them and from not being confident i managed to write them well. as of now i’m actually comfortable writing them and even like writing them, but they still sometimes make me pause and wrestle with them lol, and i know i have a long way to go still when it comes to them.

pacing is also probably one of my writing weaknesses. or i guess more like transitions? but either way sometimes i’m very aware the pacing/transitions of my stories are wonky, and yet i can’t manage to make them any better lol.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

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i don’t mind at all. personally i think it’s a nice touch to immerse you more in the story and put you more in the shoes of the characters.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

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i can’t say for sure, but either naruto or bleach! i’m pretty sure it’s naruto tho, and then i switched to naruto x bleach crossover fics. i wrote fics with an oc-si as the main protagonist, who was heavily based on ryuzaki sakuno (pot) before evolving into a proper oc, so i guess technically pot is also among the first fandoms i wrote for lol.

(i still have and hold that oc close to my heart btw! she’s just for my daydreams before i fall asleep tho, so i strongly doubt i’ll ever publish anything about her. she feels way too personal for that haha.)

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

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i have this one fic for saiki kusuo no psi nan i plan to write eventually, and i even have some vague outline for it, but i can’t think of anything else otherwise.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

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ahhh, this is such a hard question! i think... hand in hand (blood in between), maybe. i reread it so many times after i first published it, and i was honestly a little obsessed with it at the time haha (still am actually tbh).

Love is... did quite badly, but it’s also among the fics i couldn’t help but reread a lot after i first published it and was a little obsessed with (also still am tbh lol). i really love it a lot and i’m super proud of it, and tho i think it’s the second pov that puts people off from giving it a try, i’d really say it’s that same second pov that really makes the story.

most recently i wrote let someone else stay (oh, please, let him leave too, let him leave too) and, you guessed it, i also reread it a bunch of time after i first published it and was a little obsessed with it haha. love this one a lot too!

tagging all my writer friends: @chierry @mortysanchez @masterdisastre @echtach-messy-place @cloudspark @loneliestmuffin @ravensilversea @sorugao-bandgeek @rupko @byakuwan @juudaimes-true-form and anyone else who wants to (yes even you, and yes tag me so i can read your answers!)! but no pressure to do it of course!

list of the questions under the cut!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

7. Do you write crossovers?

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

15. What are your writing strengths?

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

#ramblings a/w #tag game #long post

[heckofabecca]

Fic Author Interview (meme)

I was tagged by the wonderful @anghraine, whom I adore. Thank you so much!

For the purposes of this interview, I will be including my MCU stuff.

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

53 total, but at least one of those is a collection of ficlets that should really be a collection rather than a single fic.

2- What's your total AO3 word count?

A respectable 343,495.

3- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All of these are (unsurprisingly) Bucky Barnes/f!Reader, which you can find via my sideblog @beckzorz as well as on AO3.

Dressed To Kill (18+ nsfw): the first part of a porn-with-plot assassin!reader series, which involves a lot of banter and a LOT of sex.

Old Habits (18+ nsfw): Angsty; set after a mission with civilian casualties.

Patched Up (18+ nsfw): Porn without plot.

Sugarplum (cute): Based on a prompt re: leaving little gifts for your crush.

PREMONITIONS, or, Adventures Adjacent to a Six-Year-Old Seer (adorable): On Halloween, your clairvoyant niece leads you straight into Bucky Barnes. It could not have gone worse.

4- Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I love comments! It's really wonderful to know my work is engaging enough to prompt someone to leave their thoughts, and I want to honor that by being excited back at them!

5- What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

There's one ficlet where the POV character just had their chest exploded and is bleeding out, but I can't find it T.T

6- What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I like my stories that end with the happy couple! So... a lot haha! But let's share a few beyond Marvel:

Second Time Lucky: When Lothíriel makes a hasty promise to a lady in distress, she must use all her wits to keep her footing. But there's more than one type of falling...

Mistrust: Stuck under her uncle Denethor's care in Minas Tirith two years before the Enemy's final defeat, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth spies on a marshal from Rohan on her father's behalf. But nothing ever goes quite according to plan when you're eighteen and foolhardy.

7- Do you write crossovers?

I have not! I have seen some I thoroughly enjoy, even if just the idea of them delights me. There's been a bunch of Danny Phantom x Batman across my dash lately that brings me joy (though I don't know either canon very well).

8- Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I can recall!

9- Do you write smut?

Yes, I've written quite a bit.

10- Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, someone was going through a bunch of Bucky x Reader stuff and posting them on one of those story sites... It was a number of years ago, so I forget the details.

11- Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of!

12- Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sort of—a friend wrote a part of my series Across The Fords, about a Dunlending who visits Rohan.

13- What's your all-time favorite ship?

I do not have a favorite ship! I think some relationships are really wonderful but I don't have a favorite-favorite. If I had to pick, I'd pick Elizabeth/Darcy, to honor my friend Elizabeth :P

14- What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Far From The Swan-road* (which I lovingly refer to as my longfic) is complete on its own, I have future parts planned out that I doubt will ever fully see the light of day. It makes me sad, because I'm inordinately fond of it.

* Lothíriel wants her funeral to as grand as her father's will be. Is that so much to ask? A story about female ambition, companionate love, and the difficulty of knitting a world back together.

15- What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, smut, imagery.

16- What are your writing weaknesses?

Actually getting it done.

17- What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

In small amounts, sure. In large amounts, no.

18- What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter.

19- What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

The Silmarillion... But not the Fëanoreans lol

20- What's your favorite fic you've written?

There are two tied in my heart:

Far From The Swan-road, Lothíriel-focused

Out of Nowhere, Bucky Barnes x OFC

These both feel so SO tailored to my interests that I truly love rereading them—and then wanting to write future installments, which never goes quite how I'd like them to. Alas, but yay for having what I do.

Tagging: @jobean12-blog @kareenvorbarra @alliluyevas @marvelgirl7 @theemightypen @themoonlily

#about me