#I also like that one spot pattern with the spots on the chin.

[astralprisms]

Was wondering why this particular gith face always feels like it suits baldness best and then I realized it IS in fact Orpheus' face model, Orph just has different unique ears.

Anyway welcome back, dreadwolf.

[auggieblogs]

freckle kisses ֶָ֢ | MV1

Max Verstappen x fem! reader

Author's note: Hello, lovelies!!! I hope everyone is doing good. This fic has been in my drafts for a while now and I finally had the motivation to edit it today. The Max brainrot is very real, I cannot stop thinking about his little freckle. He is so beautiful🥹. Anyways, I hope you all like this piece. Happy reading<3

ALSO fun fact, I have a freckle that's right below my lower lip jshshdjdhs I don't know I think it's a sign!!! (im delusional)

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

Max was used to the routine. Before the haze of sleep fully left him every morning, he would feel the soft, warm press of her lips against the tiny freckle on his upper lip. It was her unique ritual, a habit she had never skipped, and he had come to adore.

As the sun streamed through the blinds of their bedroom, she stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open. Without missing a beat, she leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his freckle. Max smiled, his heart swelling with love.

"Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning, Maxie," she replied, her voice light and cheerful.

Every day followed this pattern. Whether Max was leaving for a race, taking a break between practice sessions, or they were about to make love, her lips always found that freckle. It was her little act of love, and Max never questioned it. He cherished it

One lazy Sunday afternoon, they were lounging in their living room, a movie playing in the background. She lay on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. Max absentmindedly played with her hair, occasionally pressing soft kisses to her forehead. She sighed contentedly, snuggling closer.

Max felt her shift slightly, and there it was again. Her lips met his freckle in a gentle kiss before trailing a line of kisses up to his lips. "I love you," she mumbled softly against his skin.

"I love you too," Max replied, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

He paused momentarily, a curious look crossing his face, "Why do you always kiss my freckle?"

She looked up at him with a shy smile, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "It's silly," she said.

Max tilted her chin up gently, his eyes searching hers. "It’s not stupid if it’s something you do," he said softly. "Tell me, please."

She took a deep breath before explaining, "Well, my mom used to tell me that freckles or moles are spots where lovers used to kiss you in past lives. She said they’re like beauty marks, little reminders of love."

Max's expression softened, a tender smile spreading across his face. "That's beautiful," he said, his voice filled with genuine emotion.

She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "I told you it was silly."

"It's not silly," Max replied, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's one of the sweetest things I've ever heard. And I love you for it."

Her heart swelled with love as she looked at him, feeling incredibly lucky to have someone like Max in her life. "I love you too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the movie long forgotten.

Max chuckled softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "So, every time you kiss that freckle, it’s like you’re saying hello to my past lovers?" he teased.

She laughed, playfully swatting his chest. "Or maybe it’s just my way of marking my territory," she quipped back.

Max laughed, the sound rich and joyful. "Well, consider it marked," he said, leaning down to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

[daddyslittlecrow]

How about period Sex with caleb⁉️⁉️

YES YES I WILL!!

Oh.

You meant…no, no, of course. It's just a prompt! Not a serious possibility 🤧

Anyway….I love these types of prompts. Menstruation happens whether people like it or not and I absolutely love that the game has 5 such gentle, kind period trackers ❤️

And they would all absolutely fuck you during it if you let them

Not proofread, sue me 🤘

Warnings: 18+ MDNI

Painkiller - Caleb

For some reason, the cramps seemed to be much more intense this month. You spent the last few hours curled up around a heating pad, willing the painkillers to keep working. While the pain was still manageable, you peeled yourself from the sheets, hobbling to the bathroom to change your pad.

By the time you were washing your hands, you heard the door to your apartment shut. Caleb. You shamelessly texted him a while ago, begging him to come over after work so he could take care of you.

You collapsed back into your nest of self-pity just as he burst through the door. “I bought 4 different kinds of chocolate to avoid any tears. Learnt my lesson last time.” He said immediately, a plastic grocery bag in one hand and the other hiding behind his back.

He bent down. His kiss told you how much he missed you, caressing your lips with his. The scent of aftershave mingled with steel consumed you. You breathed him in, urging your racing heart to settle. It didn't help that he was still in his sexy uniform.

Caleb straightened up, a boyish grin plastered on his face. “Also got you these for being so brave.”

Red roses. Emotions swelled in your chest as you admired them. His gesture was returned with a weak smile. “They’re beautiful Caleb. Thank you.”

He left the bag of supplies next to you before walking out with roses and the vase that held last week’s bouquet. While you felt somewhat okay now, you knew the cramps were lurking. Patiently waiting until the painkillers left your system so they could seek revenge.

Thank God you asked him for more. The pills you took earlier were the last one in the box. You brought the grocery bag closer to you, sifting through the chocolate and pads. Oh no. Quickly dumping everything onto the bed, pure panic bubbled.

“Where are the painkillers?” Caleb was walking back into your room, eyes growing wide at your words. His cheeks flushed. He had forgot them, distracted by the flower stand.

You tapped your phone screen, checking time. It was too late. By the time Caleb returned to the store it would be closed. You sighed dramatically. “I guess I'll die tonight then.”

Caleb chewed on his bottom lip, feeling terrible that he racked his brain for a solution. He placed the roses on your nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. The warmth of his finger tips felt soothing as he traced patterns along your back. You were wearing the comfiest things you could find. A pair of sweatpants and one his t-shirts.

His amethyst eyes drank you in like you were the most beautiful creature on earth. Even if you thought you looked horrendous with your hair piled on top of your head and a lovely hormonal spot screaming for attention on your chin.

“You know Pips…i think I read somewhere that orgasms can help. Eases the cramps.” You laughed despite feeling your cheeks start to burn. Despite feeling miserable during your period, it also made you extra…sensitive.

“Nice try. Did you suddenly forget there’s literal blood flowing out of me?” You reached for one of the chocolate bars, trying not to focus on the slight tremble of your hands. “Come back when the river’s running clear.”

Caleb shook his head, hand sliding down to the hem of his t-shirt. Last month he had finally realised you got incredibly horny during your period. But you never initiated anything and he gave you space, assuming you weren't into it. But he decided to test the waters today.

He loved taking care of you and if that meant making you cum so you'd be less uncomfortable, well? It was a win-win in his books. “What if I told you I don't care whether you’re on your period or not?”

Avoiding the burning glare of his eyes, you snapped off a piece of chocolate and shoved it in your mouth. Anything to distract you from the pulsing sensation that started between your legs.

It's not that you thought it was gross to have period sex, you just couldn't stop imagining a grimace on your boyfriend’s face if he looked down. You’d rather just avoid the potential for embarrassment.

Caleb leaned over and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your breath hitched, a dribble of chocolate at the corner of your mouth. He knew his proposal interested you. Your thighs pressing instinctively together did not go unnoticed.

But he could also see you were too in your head, worrying about the worst case scenario. At war with yourself. He just needed to get you to stop thinking altogether.

The pad of his thumb collected the chocolatey drool before pushing it back into your mouth. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt his thumb go past your lips.

“Suck.”

The command went right to your pussy, feeling it flutter with anticipation. A small groan slipped out of you. Instantly your lips wrapped around him, swirling your wet tongue around the tip. Just like you did with his cock.

Caleb hissed. Restraining his desires was quite the challenge when you hollowed your cheeks slightly to suction him. Your eyes locked on his - eager, waiting. His jaw clenched, forcing himself to ignore how hard he was already - straining painfully against his work trousers.

This wasn't about him.

A soft pop followed as Caleb removed his thumb from your mouth. Then his lips were on yours, claiming them, swallowing the soft moans the came from your throat. He took those sweet sounds as permission to keep going but he wanted to make sure.

He grabbed the material of the t-shirt, peeling it up over your head. Your back hit the mattress as he gently pushed you down. His eyes trailed down to your bare breasts before lowering himself, his body almost on top of you.

He kissed a scorching path down your neck, stopping when he reached one of your nipples. Your back arched, pushing your breast closer to his mouth. He smirked, flicking out his tongue to tease the sensitive bud. You whined. “Caleb…”

“Good girls use their words, pipsqueak.” His hand slipped under the waistband of your sweatpants, then your panties. A wave of embarrasment hit you and you tried to move his hand away.

Caleb tutted before grabbing your wrist with his free hand, pinning your arm over your head. His fingers pressed against your clit and you moaned loudly as he worked in agonizingly slow circles. Every bit of hesitation melted away as your pussy clenched around nothing. His eyes never left yours.

“Tell me what you want or I’ll stop.” He murmured against your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. The tempo of his fingers increased, making your hips buck.

“You - ah - I want…you.” The pleasure started to build, making it difficult to speak. Caleb growled against your breast before removing his hand from your panties.

He practically ripped your bottoms off your legs, leaving you bare before him. His eyes hungrily roamed your body before stopping at your swollen pussy.

He didn't expect how aroused he got seeing your wetness tinged pink with blood. His dick was leaking at the sight. You’d feel so much wetter, hotter, if he sank his length into you right now. And because you were extra sensitive, you'd be able to feel every thick inch as he dragged through your gummy walls.

Before you could start overthinking, he gripped your thighs hard and pushed them apart, opening you wider for him. “Just like back and let me make you feel good, beautiful.”

Your fingers clutched the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he resumed his touch on your engorged clit. You moaned his name like a prayer. He answered by bringing his middle finger right next to your pulsing hole.

“You want it Pips?” His voice was rough with raw need. He ignored your desperate hips urging him to go further, to fill you with his long finger. “Fucking beg for it.”

You let out a sob as his movements on your clit slowed, refusing to indulge you until you obeyed. “Please let me cum on your…ah…your fingers. I need you.”

The air left your lungs as he slammed his finger into your pussy. He grunted as he fucked it into you hard, making your eyes roll back as your body writhed. In. Out. In. Out.

The sounds of your squelching cunt was sending you close to the edge. He added a second digit, stretching your slick walls. Your hips rocked to match his pace, fucking his fingers as your stomach clenched from the intense pleasure that grew.

“That’s it baby. I know. It feels good doesn't it? So tight. Want you to cum.” Caleb curled his fingers, massaging your g-spot as your moans grew louder. “Good girl. Cum for me. All over my fingers.”

The tension in your body finally snapped. Your jaw went slack as you let out a guttural scream, pussy clenching as you chased each wave of your orgasm. Caleb continued to sciossor his fingers into you, loving how your back arched from what he did to you.

After a few more leisurely pumps, he withdrew his fingers. You melted into the mattress, utterly spent. Your flushed face only burned hotter when Caleb immediately went to the bathroom. He returned with a damp washcloth and gently cleaned you up.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, afraid he may have been a bit too rough. He just couldn't help it. He stopped cleaning a few times to leave kisses on your stomach.

Despite cringing at the undeniable mess between your legs, he may have been right. Your orgasm seemed to keep your cramps at bay for a while longer. “That was definitely better than swallowing a few pills.”

You broke out into a fit of laughter and he grinned as he leaned over to kiss you. Your eyes bore into his when he pulled away, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You didn’t miss the michevious spark that burned in his gaze.

“I’ll check in with you we get something to eat. I might be able to give you something…stronger if the pain comes back.”

[avocado-writing]

The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then. 

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 

…right?

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[fortheharbingers]

being feixiao's little plaything...... no thoughts head empty fr

pairing: feixiao/gn!reader

notes: gn!reader (as much as I could), oral (reader receiving), biting, slight clawing and marking, one or two petnames i think. –idk what to tag ive not written smut in ages but this woman is driving me insane. i jst know she can make u cum w/o touching u. okiii byeee Minors do not interact !!

As someone with her status of being, merlin’s claw feixiao is a lot to handle at times. Bold, playful and shameless, never backing down, a force to be reckoned with both in and out of a battlefield.

the general has quite the tricky condition, unbeknownst to many. and after battles that go a little over her threshold, that's where you play in. a little off the edge, her grip of her control barely gone, the general needs something, someone to keep her grounded, connected to reality. the counting of each sense and testing them one by one is a trick used for many occasions and even for that, feixiao has her way of rolling with it.

there, she finds a rope to hold onto, in the tight space between your legs. when her eyes see only red and sense of smell enhanced, she drinks in the smell of your skin, your fear, the sweat that clings to your form and that perfume you always save just for her.

in the midst of all those, strangers and those who don't know the truth of things, you serve your purpose and more– greet her not just as the untouchable and infamous Merlin's Claw but also just Feixiao, just a foxian, painfully hungry and ready to dive right into her meal that is you. not that she doesn't like when you call her 'her general', praises spilling from your lips but in this crazed state now, she cannot focus on anything.

her nails dig into your skin, parting your legs. dragging her claws across, she draws patterns into your skin, feel how soft and fragile you are to the touch, your warmth enough to melt her, enough to dispel the cold air of even the shackling prison. never once her hands are off your body, always feeling you everywhere and touching, groping at your skin, squeezing when you let out a particular squeak like a melody to her ears.

feixiao has always been good at what she does, but when she is like this– barely a person and driven by lust, her touches burn. she drags a finger on your inner thigh, a little to the side and she can feel how wet you're getting by the second. from the way her breathing is erratic, you can tell she knows. licking her lips, feixiao takes in a sharp breath. just a little more force and she can enjoy the scent of your blood mixing into this delicious fest of smells. the smell of arousal soon fills the air, making it harder for her to remain her composure. what a little minx, weren't you supposed to help ease the symptoms, she thinks, not drive her crazier?

one hand goes north slowly, stroking right under your belly button, tugging at the skin there, getting a yelp in return. as her free hand continues to roam your body, her mouth draws closer, tracing over the same spots with her lips, leaving lithe, wet kisses. with heat pooling up in you, all you can do is whimper her name and watch as she toys with her meal.

her hand finds your breast and immediately she gropes the flesh, sinking her teeth into your thigh in the process. you hiss out a moan, eyes closed shut at the sudden action.

biting at the spot over and over, when she feels content with it, feixiao pulls back and places a kiss there, moving onto the next spot.

when her eyes no longer see red, she admires the scene before her very eyes.

how you're sprawled over her bed, all pretty and flush already, staring at her, waiting for her to keep going. hazy eyes and your slightly ajar, she can notice the drool by your chin. what a mess you've created and she has only begun...

body practically throbbing with need, she brings a hand to your pulse to feel how your fast your heart beats. moving the hand slowly to your chest, she feels how something so small can beat so fast and with force– all for her, too. feeling your slight jolts each time she touches you, feixiao grins at your helpless self, awaiting whatever she will give you, and you happily taking it all, beginning for more to come until your body cannot endure anything else.

sight, smell, hearing and touch... feixiao has saved the best for the last.

giving her lips another lick, and catching you gulp at the sight from the corner of her eye, she dives in. the meal she's been waiting to have all week. all of it just for her to enjoy, to savor.

without wasting another second, her lips find your sex.

she tries going easy on you, really she does. tries her best to start with few kisses here and there, to prepare you for the rest of the night, and to prolong your orgasm for the both of you... but with how strong and enthralling you smell, she finds her resolve broken. lapping at you like a man in the desert, she drags her tongue over and over, biting at your lips and not caring one bit about the mess she is making. drenched in your arousal, she drinks in your moans, how you begin to pant her name as you feel yourself getting closer.

when she can hear your breathing fasten, her tongue slows down in pace, now lazily leaving kisses, nipping at your skin. with the sudden drop of pace, all you can mumble is a desperate "please..."

at your plea, feixiao laughs. "please what, sweet thing?" she asks you and with what energy left in you, you try bringing your legs together, to trap her face there. tutting at your display of request, she shakes her head and easily spreads your legs again, pressing them against the bed. "so impatient... have you no respect for your general?" her words make you blush, a tad embarrassed.

and your reaction to her words only make her more satisfied. how innocent and sweet. "well then, since you could ask this time..." she says as she leans into you again.

your hands reach out to her this time, clutching at her as she teases you with her tongue. you can feel yourself tighten around her tongue, eyes closed shot in satisfaction as she sucks and bites at you. with what little you have left in you, you drag your hands through her hair, fingers playing with her ears and scratching at the back of them. mixed into your endless moans and mewls of her name, this action draws a growl out of her in return, pressing her face further into you, urging you to continue.

as you try and grind against her tongue, her hands find your hips, pressing you into the mattress, not letting you move one inch, keeping you in place. thumbs rubbing circles onto your hips and sucking on your sex, she angles you enough for easier access and before you know you come undone, your body shaking as you come and make a mess all over your general's face.

gasping for air, you lie limp in the same position she has put you until you can return to your senses.

when you open your eyes, expecting to be met with the blinding lights of the room, you're instead faced with her curious eyes, with an expression already on her face that tells you she is up to no good.

"so, ready for round two, or do i give you another minute? it’s considered well-mannered to show your general just how much you missed her, y’know.”

[jasminebythebay]

I've been staring at the Hearthian Models a lot and here are some notes

I've been staring at their models in the past few days for my art. The more I look at them the more details I discover haha. (Here is the link to the refs I've been looking at: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/18Me-eKLK8WZiByvGE6UCo1D4PwmCZfCi?usp=share_link) Some things I've noticed:

Based on Esker's ear floppiness, they're actually much closer to the other Founders' ages than to Gneiss, Spinel, or Tektite's ages.

Hearthian eyes are really colorful :0. I thought Esker had pink eyes, they actually have PURPLE eyes (maybe Arkose as well, but it's hard to tell because their eyes are almost all pupil and no sclera). Moraine's eyes are orange, Hatchling's eyes are orange-yellow, Hal's eyes are yellow skewed towards green, Porphy and Gneiss both have pink eyes, but Porphy's eyes are a lighter pink than Gneiss's, Marl and Rutile's eyes are green, and Tuff's eyes are blue. Most hearthian eyes are yellow, but even then the shade of yellow varies.

(this is based on a height chart, i couldn't actually pull the models in a 3d program to view so idk how accurate this is) Esker is WAY shorter than I thought, literally the same height as the Hatchling

Speaking of height, Hornfels is the tallest Hearthian, followed by Slate, then Riebeck. Hornfels and Slate are over a head taller than the Hatchling, almost 2 heads taller than Gossan and Feldspar.

While Solanum is very tall compared to most Hearthians, she is about half a head shorter than Hornfels and Slate. The Prisoner, if we measure all the way to the tip of their antlers, is twice the height of the Hatchling. Even without the antlers, they are about 75% taller than the Hatchling. They are so big :0

All of the Hearthians wear leather boots. The only two exceptions are Mica, who wears what looks like sideways geta sandals, and the Hatchling, who wears SOCKS (WHY??? THE VILLAGE IS BUILT AROUND A GEYSER, HAS A WATERFALL, AND MULTIPLE SMALL CREEKS. THE GROUND IS GOING TO BE MUDDY AS HELL). The Hatchling does wear boots when in their space suit though.

The Hatchling is the only traveler that doesn't have an Outer Wilds patch sewn on their space suit (which makes me sad :( maybe it's because they're supposed to get their patch once they complete their first solo flight? they'll never have a chance to earn their patch....). Esker also doesn't have one, but it's likely because we never see them in their space suit.

Proportion-wise, Hearthians are generally top-heavy. While the exact proportion varies (ex: Hornfels and Slate have almost perfect 50-50 upper-lower body ratios while Riebeck's legs are only half the length of their torso), Hearthian legs are usually about the same length as their torso.

Because Hearthians are top-heavy, their arms are also longer than ours. Their hands fall right below the crotch (just like in humans). Their hands are also really big. Human hands are approximately the size of our faces (from chin to eyebrow) while Hearthian hands are the size of their entire skull.

The third finger of Hearthian hands is thicker than the other two fingers, and all of their fingers are thicker than our fingers. It makes it easy to draw because we can use our own hands as reference without having to squish the bones in our palms to match Hearthian hands haha

I'm sure most of us have noticed that Hearthians have unique patterning. Common patterns include spots and leopard spots. Gossan is unique in that their spots form stripes. The color and density of the spots varies as well. Most of the Hearthians tend to have spots along the sides of their skull, their upper face and ears, and the sides of their neck. Hornfels has almost no spots, just some spotting along their eyes, ears, and neck. Spinel has spots that resemble freckles that cover their entire face, ears, and forehead, but has almost no spots on their skull. Gossan is again unique in their patterning as their spots are along the front of the skull and back of their neck.

Every single Hearthian has a unique eye, mouth, and skull shape, which is an insane detail to add from an art direction perspective. Every Hearthian is already distinguishable from more obvious design choices, like height and clothes, so unique face shapes are entirely unnecessary, especially since most players will probably never talk to the other Hearthians more than once, much less remember what they look like beyond the travelers. Some Hearthians have narrow jaws while others have squarer jaws. Some Hearthians have droopy eyes while others are doe-eyed. Some Hearthians have an upward tilt to their lips while others have a downwards tilt. Some Hearthians have a long oval face while others have a square face. Some Hearthians have resting bitch face while others have an easy smile. This are details that only insane people who stare at the Hearthian models for hours find *coughs*

TLDR; The Hearthians have a lot of cool unique features but only insane people would go out to find them

[cherryredstars]

HIII!! just wanna preface that i LOVE your blog and your fics are my fav!! ilysm

So i have a general fic idea abt which is mainly js a bunch of different aspects i want mushed up into one fic but imagine virgin!miguel and semi-experienced!reader, and this involves his underrated wristussy, so like reader is super horny and ALSO mixing sub!miguel and this fic where miguel has a lot…of yk, so basically virginsub!miguel with his wristussy, lots of cum, and a reader with a mission.

sorry ik this is literally a mash up of 20 different things and fics and it might not make any sense but ik your mind can create great things! thank you so much and ily! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Creampie, Loss of Virginity, Sub!Miguel

A/N: Thank you so much, lovie! Enjoy!!

Unedited

You would have never guessed.

To think the Miguel O'Hara had even less experience than you did was extremely surprising, yet completely satisfactory. It made you feel powerful, like you were slightly better than him. It fed something carnal in your brain, unlocking a hungry beast that was thirsting for more.

It made it easy to get Miguel under you, straddling his naked waist and teasing the tip of his twitchy, swollen cock with your warm hole. Having his breath seize in his throat as his hips tried to push up into you, seeking that undeniable pleasure that his body knew lay just between your parted legs. Something so close yet so painfully far away. It made you chuckle, seeing this big, strong man melt into a desperate mess under you with the slightest touch. All because his poor cock has never been choked by someone's warm walls before.

It's fascinating to watch, to study every jump of muscle as your hole parts to take him in. How his eyes roll and a look of desperate pain washes over his face as you take inch by inch of his cock until he's balls deep. Observing the way he whines at your moan as his cock twitches inside of you as the thick length tries to mold you to the shape of him. It's so delicious, especially when that's all it takes to break the poor hero.

You laugh meanly when you start moving, giddy when he starts to chase after your hole with no pattern. Sloppy, need-driven thrusts that don't completely align with your movements and make him whimper for more. Words escaping him until the only thing grounding him is the saturated image of him messily pumping his spent into your tight opening. Having it fill you so well that it ends up dripping around his dick and staining his balls. It has him drooling and pawing blindly at your skin.

It makes you puff at the stupid mutt under you, your hands grabbing his until you force them above his head. He tries to fight you- quite pathetically- as his mind screams at him to touch your skin in any place he can reach. You grunt as you have to readjust your hands, your thumb catching on an almost hollow spot just above the bone of his wrist. It catches you by surprised when he makes a tortured noise, body arching and lifting you up with him slightly. He makes the noise again when you're forced to tighten your grip on his wrists to keep you from falling off, your thumb pressing into the dented spot of his wrist.

Confused, you swipe your thumb over the area, understanding clicking in your brain when he whines and tries to twist away from you. A slow smirk covers your lips as you lean down to his ear, grinding your hips against him and ever so slowly swiping at the sensitive area.

"Miggy," You coo in a saccharine voice, "Are you okay? You seem flustered, baby."

Miguel pants, eyes lidded and his mind barely registering the words coming from your mouth. You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement before leaning back and taking one of his wrists with you. Your hips continue to buck against Miguel, letting his cock drag against your walls as your free hand comes to grip his chin. His eyes lock on your face, his lips parted in an attempt to get air into his lungs and let his pleasure escape in pitchy noises. You smile sweetly at him, bringing his wrist to your mouth and placing a small kiss to the small hole. Miguel lets out a noise that vaguely resembles a plea, and you hum against his skin in acknowledgement.

His eyes waver before focusing on your lips, eyes shiny with lust as he drowsily blinks. Your lips part slightly, your warm breath hitting his skin and causing his hips to buck up in anticipation. Your tongue pokes out, the tip of the muscle landing right beside the hollow, causing him to whine. You can't help the smile on your face as you give his cock a hard grind before pressing your tongue against his sensitive wrist.

Miguel's eyes roll back in seconds, a choked noise parting from his lips as his body quivers violently. You gasp as you feel him release inside of you, warmth rushing inside of you to the point that your lower half feels heavy. You desperately try to help him ride out the pleasure, moving your hips fast against him until your body gives out with it's own release. You slump into Miguel with a moan, your breath tickling his sweaty skin as you both calm down.

You can feel something warm and sticky beginning to slicken your thighs, but you simply sigh in content as you still hold Miguel's wrist to your mouth and give the hollow slow kitten licks. You giggle when you hear Miguel's breath hitch, his cock slowly chubbing up inside of you again.

You would never oppose a second round.

[rooksamoris]

I've come to humbly request and spread propaganda for Jamil L/N.

Jamil taking his s/o's name strikes 3 birds with one stone: freedom from the Asims (you can't tell me there hasn't been a single Viper who didn't marry into another family and adopt their trade), freedom to marry the love of his life, and guaranteeing freedom for his descendants. Depending on how things go with Najma, they could erase the Viper name and, by extension, their servitude.

Also how does he react being called Mr.L/N?

💞 — in which jamil marries you and takes your last name.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: none, this is pure fluff and romance

💞 — 1.2k words. i ended up writing a mix of drabbles and headcanons <33 your propaganda turned into me making even more propaganda for this idea. honestly, seems very plausible that he would do something like this.

“I’ll take your last name. If we want to get married, I have to take your name, or else you’d be stuck serving with me,” Jamil said, breaking the silence. His eyes remained on the book in his lap, looking through the various pictures from his parents’ wedding. He would be wearing his father’s old garments. 

The man had an intricate belt with a jambiyah (dagger) tied around the waist of his thobe (long dress-like garment), and his hair was done in various braids with a shemagh (men’s headscarf) tied over it. He had a few ornate pieces of fabric draped over him like a cape and a spot of henna on the inside of his palm. The usual kohl (eyeliner) was a bit smudged from all the festivities—Jamil had never seen his father look this happy. 

His mother was dressed similarly, with old pieces of gold and silver jewelry about. Her big earrings had matched the rings his father wore, and she had kohl drawn on both her eyes and her chin, in the shape of ancient tattoos. Here hair had scented plants interwoven in the strands, and Jamil wondered if he should do the same with his hair, draping a shemagh over it. It seemed like something you would enjoy, and he would enjoy you taking them out at the end of the night. He spoke again, “What do you think of that?” he asked, concerning him taking your name.

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, flipping the page to another picture of his parents’s wedding, this one featuring his mother shyly lifting a piece of her sitara (long piece of fabric with various designs which directly translates to ‘curtain’) to hide her face from her husband, “I think it's a wonderful idea.”

🩷 — Taking your last name was probably the best decision he could have made. He indulged in the marriage festivities with you for both your sake and his parent’s sake. What he was excited about was signing the contract that officially gave him your surname—freeing him from the shackles of the Viper clan.

🩷 — He did it after the festivities when it was just the two of you guys and the imam as well as a legal advisor. You both were still in the wedding clothes, sitting on an ornate rug with a little table in front of you. 

🩷 — Jamil could feel the tremors of his heart in his hand as he lifted the pen and signed his name beside yours. This time, Viper was nowhere to be found.

🩷 — With that, Jamil shook hands with the imam and then handed the page to the legal advisor to be put in the Scalding Sands’s records. It all felt so surreal. He glanced over his shoulder to see you gleefully talking to the imam about the marriage and showing off your wedding band. 

🩷 — It was a thin gold ring that he had made with the antiquities left by his family. Nothing fancy—he wanted to give you diamonds, and yet you were so smitten with it and him.

Once nightfall came, Jamil lay beside you in your bed. A bed for the both of you. It was a bed he bought under his new name, Jamil (L/N), under the surname you gifted him. His charcoal eyes watched as you sat down at the edge of the bed, your night robe dipped down your back. It matched his nightgown, save for the patterns. He helped you fall in love with the comfortable garb of his homeland.

You turned slightly to see him, your eyes growing tender at the sight of him all disheveled. This was a sight just for you, “What are you thinking about?” you asked, reaching out to take his hand.

Jamil pulled you closer to him by your hand, forcing you to lay on top of him. He kissed your knuckles, “Thinking about you, hayati (my life),” he muttered, before letting his hand trail up your arm and to the back of your neck. His gaze had softened and his features relaxed, “Thank you,” 

You did not need to ask why he thanked you. You knew he felt indebted to you for being patient with him and becoming his spouse. You gave him the greatest gift ever, freedom. Free to be yours, free from Kalim Al-Asim. You freed his descendants… he would spend the rest of his life as your husband, repaying you with kisses across your skin and warm meals in your belly.

🩷 — It takes him a long time to get used to his new name, as well as his newfound freedom. After your wedding, he takes you out to do many of the things he could not do before, such as travel to another country, but even simple things like going out to parks.

🩷 — He did not have to worry about Kalim anymore, just your and his enjoyment.

🩷 — Jamil still has yet to get used to being called by your surname. When he notices it, he is filled with a smug and quiet pride, but most of the time he just ends up ignoring whoever is calling for him, or glancing over at you in confusion, thinking that they are speaking with you and not him.

🩷 — This was particularly apparent when it came to the reunion at Night Raven College.

🩷 — He did not want to go, but he could not reject you either. You were excited about seeing your silly friends, and who was he to stop you from going? Instead, he just sighed and went along with you, standing off to the side and watching as you ran about to gather Ace and Deuce, as well as greeting your other friends.

“If it isn’t the new Mr. (L/N),” Azul approached his former classmate with a suave grin. He had grown up, but it was clear he still kept that usual ‘evil businessman’ charm to him. His suit was freshly pressed and his hair, which had grown a bit, was brushed back neatly. Though, he was still wearing the same thin-rimmed glasses.

Jamil turned around when he heard your surname being called, and it took him a moment to realize what was happening. He was your husband. Sure, he remembered your wedding—he carried a picture from it all the time, but it was still strange hearing it affirmed by someone else. He tried to hide how happy he was to hear it behind a raised brow and his usual frown, “What do you want, Azul? My spouse isn’t going to be pulled into one of your schemes anymore,” he said, arms crossed.

Azul laughed at that, tilting his cane a bit as he leaned away from Jamil, “You wound me, Jamil. As if I would try anything like that anymore,” he replied, and the irony was not lost on him at all. Instead, he sighed and watched as Jamil’s eyes found your figure again. You were chasing Epel around, trying to get a hug from your old friend. It was just like before, except now you wore a ring from Jamil and he wore a name from you.

“You don’t seem so poor and unfortunate now,” Azul said.

Jamil could not bite back the slight twitch of his lips, “Not at all.”

[celestialprincesse]

If you’re still taking fluffy Simon requests… I cannot stop imagining Simon who is your biggest protector. As someone who gets stressed and anxious easily, and the thought of being able to let your guard down around him makes my heart flutter 💕 also, telling him this while you’re wrapped in his strong arms would definitely make him blush.

He's definitely so so happy if his partner feels safe to just shut their brain off around him🤭 Makes him feel like he's done something right💕

The moment you and Simon are at home with one another, you're able to check out into that quiet, peaceful, fuzzy spot in the back of your mind where everything is gentle and easy. You know he'll be there to look after you. A hand on the corner of the table when you drop something to make sure you don't hit your head, your phone put on charge when you drift off, a gentle hand guiding you through crowds.

"Still with me, hm?" You're snapped from your daze with a gentle hand brushing an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

The minute you shimmy over to sit beside him, Simon opens his arms to bundle you into his strong side, nestling your head under his chin. Calloused fingers card absently through your hair, slowing to match the pace of your breathing, the rise and fall of your chest against his.

Whatever plays on the TV, some documentary, is completely forgotten as you sit blanketed by his ever comforting presence and the soft haze that fills your brain. He's perfectly happy to let you check out, dropping the occasional kiss to the crown of your head, reminding you he's there, fingers drawing patterns up and down your spine as he watches his show.

If you could spend every evening like this, you'd be happy. Happy to sit in the peace and quiet that only comes from being surrounded by love and safety. Happy to get lost in your thoughts alongside someone ready to pull you back if you ever drift too far. Happy to just be, without any pretences or awkward small talk. Happy to have found someone who lets you have that.

[linopls]

kinktober day nine

oral chan x fem!reader summary: you're chan's favorite inspiration warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), blond chan (it needs a warning) 0.8k words

“hey, can i eat you out?”

“what?” 

you and chan had been sitting silently in his studio. he had his headphones on and was working on a song for their next comeback and you were sat on the couch behind him, working on a project for one of your classes. you’d both been sat in complete silence for the past three hours, both working in a stress-free environment, which was rare.

“what did you say?” you ask again.

“you heard me.” chan takes off his headphones and swivels around in his chair to face you. “i have been stuck for the past fifteen minutes and i need some inspiration.”

you laugh, “does eating me out give you inspiration?”

“maybe,” chan shrugs as he stands up from his chair and picks your laptop up off your lap and places it gently on his desk. “your moans are like music to my ears, and i need to listen to something else than what have been.”

“are you writing another ‘drive’?” you joke and chan laughs. you sit up and move to the edge of the couch where chan meets. he stands between your legs and lifts your chin to look him in the face.

“i might after this,” chan says before pushing his lips against yours. his lips are soft and taste sweet. he quickly starts to kiss down your jawline and to your exposed collarbone.

“i love when you wear my clothes,” he mumbles between kisses. it was raining when you arrived to the studio, which left you freezing and wet. chan, being the kind boyfriend he was, gave you the sweatshirt he was wearing.

 he kneels in front of your and puts his hands on your thighs, softly squeezing them. he softly bites down on your collarbone until he leaves a small bruise on the spot, he pulls away and admires the mark.

“so pretty.” he then looks you in the eyes, his soft brown eyes full of lust. “god, you’re so pretty, can i please eat you out now?” he begs.

the way he begs to pleasure you sends a warm feeling to your core. one of your favorite things about chan was that his love language was acts of service. while normally this meant he would do chores for you, hold doors for you, and make appointments for you. it also meant that he would always pleasure you first, usually several times, before himself. many days he would beg to eat you out, today, when you should be working, was no different.

you giggle. “of course.”

“thank you,” he sighs, quickly hooking his fingers under your waist band. you lift your hips off the couch to assist him and he pulls off your sweatpants in one swift motion.

like a starved animal, he quickly pulls your legs apart and licks one long stripe up your core. “god, you taste so fucking good,” he moans to himself. 

chan starts lapping at your core. he rotates between tracing circles and sucking on your clit and sliding his tongue as deep in your hole as he can. he then decides he needs to be even closer and wraps his muscled arms around your thighs and pulls your body to his face. this knocks you flat on the couch and you moan in response. he continues to work on your clit, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud.

“chan, fuck, please don’t stop,” you moan, tangling your hands into his blond hair. 

your words of encouragement have him sticking to the pattern of flicking his tongue at your clit and swirling small circles over it. he moans and hums as he sloppily makes out with your cunt.

“chan, please, please, please keep going. i’m gonna cum,” you whine, hips squirming in his strong grip.

without breaking contact with your cunt, chan looks up at you. the look in his innocent eyes sends you over the edge. 

“fuck i’m cumming,” you yell. you tighten your grip in his hair and press your leaking cunt against his face, moaning his name loudly as you finish. chan slows his pace, helping work you through your orgasm.

as you release the grip on his hair, chan sits up fully. you notice how blown out his eyes look, his blond, curly hair a mess atop his head, and your glistening slick coating his face. he makes direct eye contact with you as he licks his lips clean and wipes his mouth with his arm. your eyes roll back and your head falls back onto the couch. 

chan stands up with your pants in his hands, he folds them nicely before putting them on one of the side tables. he places a kiss to your forehead and picks up your body to lay you the proper way on the couch. he then grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and lays it over your body.

“but babe, what about you-?” you start, propping yourself on your elbows.

“let me finish this song,” he says, sitting back down in his chair and putting his headphones on. “i got my inspiration.”

i need chan to be blond again for my own mental health

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier 

@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella@lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28

[butchreg]

cg ! caitlyn kiramman with a baby boy regressor headcanons !!

requested by 🦁 anon. hai new anon ~ヾ(＾∇＾) . i've been cooking up a storm in the past few days hehe. 1 more request after this one then i will likely turn anons back on if any of my lovely anons would like to chat / request some more or if anyone else is itching to do so but shy. i'm also getting pretty close to 100 followers ! wowowowow :O thank you all sm ! i'm wondering if there's something i should do to celebrate? lmk if there's anything special you'd like to see from me to celebrate that milestone. okay yap over thanks for listening ! arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

caitlyn loves to play peekabo with her baby boy, getting really into it. babies aren't good with object permanence though so if you're to get fussy she drops it right away. "shh, baby. no need to cry, mummy's right here !"

she's so attentive to your babbles, nodding along as if you're speaking coherently, encouraging you. "uh huh, is that right my love? you're so smart, who's mama's smart little boy?"

caitlyn loves seeing you smile, often tickling your tummy or chucking your chin to hear your little giggle. she always kisses your dimples which makes you giggle as well.

she's taller than you and is able to lift you onto her hip which you love. you're always making grabby hands at her, wanting her to pick you up. you love being carried so much, it makes you feel so tiny and loved.

caitlyn picking out your outfits, telling you how handsome you look. she loves shopping for you buying more clothes than you'll ever need.

she also buys you so many toys. she knows a lot of facts, telling you all about each of your dinosaur figurines and animal toys. she doesn't know much about cars but she looks up facts about the ones you like the best.

she buys you special patterned diapers with dinosaurs and jungle animals on them. if you're feeling fussy about needing a change, she'll talk you through it having you pick which diaper you want and praising you when you're done. "there, all done ! you're such a good boy, feeling better now?"

caitlyn is one of those mamas who soothes their baby by bouncing them on her hip, or carrying them around. she boops your nose, or rubs your back until you doze off in your mama's arms.

caitlyn bottle feeding you because you're too small to eat solid foods. :( she's got you on one hip while you fuss as she warms your bottle. "shhh shhh, it's coming silly boy," she chuckles, testing the temperature before sitting down in a comfy spot with you so you can nurse it. "is that yummy, hmm?" she smiles, holding your head up with one arm and the bottle with the other. your eyes slowly begin to flutter sleepily and she coos. "there we go, all done?"

caitlyn bathing you oh so gently, getting fishy bath toys for you to play with. you love baths with mama, sometimes if you're feeling especially tiny and clingy you'll bathe together, not wanting to break contact with your mama. caitlyn letting you soap up her hair and play with it, laughing at the silly styles you come up with. caitlyn giving you a soap beard and being so careful when she's washing you, checking in periodically to make sure you're still comfortable. you never want to get out, crying when the water gets cold and mama makes you get out. you have a bunch of animal head towels, which she wraps you up in immediately. she wipes your tears away, soothing you verbally as she gently dries you off. "i know buddy bathtime's fun, huh? don't cry my love, we'll have another bath soon."

[schlattschlut]

Hands On - Schlatt x Reader Smut

You just really like Schlatts hands and he doesn’t mind one bit

If you haven’t, I suggest just taking awhile and looking at his hands because…. jesus. (Also yall… ask box is open if anyone wants to offer up ideas !)

cw: Smut, fingering, Schlatt shoves his fingers down your throat idk, also squirting cause why not

wc: 1017

Schlatt was sat at his desk, typing away quickly before moving his cursor around the screen; editing the video he had just recorded a few days ago. As he clicks around the screen, his free hand comes to rest against the outside of my thigh as I sat sideways in his lap.

He wasn’t even looking at me, deep in thought on his editing as his fingers traced over my skin softly. My eyes were trained on him though. Watching the way his fingers moved, the patterns he traced leading my mind to dirtier places.

It was safe to say I like his hands, I enjoyed the way the muscles flexed as he ran his hands over my body; the way his palms would flatten over any part of my skin, reminding me just how much bigger he was than me.

I lifted my own hand from the arm of the chair to run my fingers over his own, tracing his knuckles softly before gently grabbing his palm in both my hands, lifting it from my lap.

Schlatts concentration on editing is broken he feels me lift his hand up. His eyes are on me now, watching the way I examined his fingers so closely. His cheeks heating up as I press a kiss to his finger tips. “Doll, what’re you doing?” He asks softly, letting go of his computer mouse to run his hand over my back slowly.

“Nothing.” I mutter quickly, my eyes still trained on his hands. “Just admiring you.”

Schlatt smirk, raising an eyebrow at me. “Is that so?” He asks teasingly, lifting his thumb to run along my bottom lip. “Admiring me or my hands?”

My cheeks heat up at the comment, “Well your hands are a part of you…” I counter quietly.

Schlatt just laughs, pushing his thumb past my lip, running it along my teeth before pressing it against my tongue. I whine, my tongue moving across his thumb; wanting to taste more of him as I blink up.

“Jesus.” Schlatt says softly, “Such a needy little thing.” His words are teasing, but he knows just how much my body actually craves him in every form and he loves it; my love for him is one of his favorite things in the universe. He was often in disbelief of the things about him I found so endearing.

He pulls his thumb away for a moment before replacing it with his middle and ring finger, pressing my tongue down as he pushed them further into my mouth; trying to see just how far he could get them.

My eyes stay on his as I allow him to push them further, drool dripping down my chin. “Dirty girl.” He mutters, pressing his fingers forward again, “So used to me you don’t even gag.” His words are taunting.

I pull away, my cheeks heating up at his comment. “Like it’s a bad thing…” I mumble defensively.

Schlatt laughs, tracing his wet fingers over my bottom lip before pushing them back into my mouth again. “I didn’t tell you to speak.” His voice his gruff, his tone turning incredibly dominant in a moment.

He just watches me for a bit, enjoying the way I took his fingers so well. It was like a lightbulb went off in his head as he pulled his fingers from my mouth, pushing my skirt up my legs before dipping his fingers into my underwear. He doesn’t even warn me as he pushes his fingers into me, my back arching as I mewl and squirm in his lap. “Schlatt…” I whine.

“What?” He asks condescendingly. “I thought you liked my fingers.”

I whimper, my head falling to his shoulder as my breathing becomes labored. “I… I do.” I mumble softly, my breaths turning into whines as his fingers repeatedly hit the spongy spot inside of me, stars flooding my vision as his fingers moved diligently.

“Then don’t whine.” He grunts, his fingers picking up pace and pushing themselves deeper as he pressed his thumb to my clit. He pulls my head back by my hair, exposing my neck to him as he places soft kisses along it, followed by sinking his teeth into it just enough to leave a mark.

My eyes close, my head lolling against him as my breathing only got quicker. “Please.” I whine, grabbing his wrist in an attempt to keep him close as his fingers only get faster. My release builds quickly, stronger than normal, my entire body tingling as I struggle to hold back.

“Not yet.” He says firmly, his fingers not stopping. “You can hold on a little longer.”

I bite my lip, trying to distract my mind from the growing flame in my stomach. “Schlatt.” I whine softly, hiding my face in his neck as my fingers played with the hair on his neck; my legs starting to shake slightly.

I whimper again, “I can’t-“ I gasp, “Schlatt, I-“ I try to warn him that I couldn’t hold it, but my body took control and I was coming all over Schlatts pants, my thighs glistening as they shook against his movements. Countless whispered praises and pleas escaping my mouth as his fingers slowly work me down.

I hide my face in his neck, bracing myself for the teasing and berating I was sure would follow. “Holy fuck.” Schlatt mutters, “That was really hot.”

I lift my head at his words, blushing softly, “Really?” I mumble. “I thought you’d be mad I didn’t listen…”

He laughs, shaking his head and slowly pulling his fingers from me. He lifts them up to examine them better in the light, appreciating the way his hand shimmered. “Can you do that on my dick?” He asks seriously.

I gasp, my face heating up more at his question. “I don’t know.” I say softly, “I’ve never done that before.”

Schlatt raises his eyebrows, a proud look crossing his face. “Only one way to find out.” He mutters, lifting us both from his chair and leading me towards the bed, pulling me down into it with him quickly.

[whiteeyes-is-a-mad-scientist]

The new seawing in the reef

Sunhunter waited silently in the sand. She hated being so… out in the open. Especially now. She jumped hearing a dragon rise from the water.

"Relax. Just me." Snapping turtle shook off a stray piece of seaweed. His spots gave a faint yellow flash in the moonlight. "If your here just to tell me that I'm in danger I know…" sunhunter frowned at the familiar look the seawing held.

"I'm here to offer you a way out actually." He trudged through the sand as it began to clump on his wet talons. He shook the sand off and opened his talon. Within it was an earring, a shiny pearl carved in the shape of a star. "Oh its beautiful… but how is jewelry supposed to help me?" Sunhunter took it into her talon to further examine.

"Argile made it so he could come with me into the deep palace. He doesn't really come into the ocean these days." He glanced toward the deep blue "it's enchanted. It'll turn you into a seawing as long as you wear it."

Sunhunter felt her scales shiver "Snapping turtle… I can't… all my visions... they come in water I don't want to imagine how awful it would be in the water…" she shook her head. "How do you know? You've never been in the ocean." He leaned forward "Sunhunter you don't really have a lot of options here. The skywings are after you… they can't go into the ocean."

Snapping turtle was right. The mercenaries and assassin's were getting more crafty. Even those against the skywings would give longing glances at her. No doubt gaging whether or not the bounty was worth it. "I..I dont know how to be a seawing.." she frowned "I don't know aquatic or how to swim or or-" "I'll teach you." Snapping turtle flashed a rare smile. "What about the talons? I still want to help the peace effort…" she looked at the earring. "Oh for moons sake forget the talons! This is your life in danger!" He exasperated "Sunhunter… please… I dont want to see you become some trophy for the skywings.." His eyes were weirdly desperate.

Sunhunter sighed and slipped the earring on. A deeply cold chill ran through her scales. She shut her eyes tightly as the world spun, she stumbled forward and met Snapping turtles chest. Past the pounding in her head she could hear him "Its alright… Argile struggled a bit as well…"

Her scales stopped tingling and the pounding headache faded. She felt snapping turtles wing on her back, brushing softly. She also felt her new gills, webbed toes, and flashy spots. She opened her eyes to find her new night vision. Also finding herself needing to look up toward snapping turtle "Oh making me shorter than you is unfair." Snapping turtle snorted "Welcome to being the short and stocky tribe."

Sunhunter stumbled steadying herself. She used to be shoulder heavy but now her weight was all over. She felt stronger despite being shorter. Snapping turtle stared and sunhunter rolled her eyes "I know I look stupid don't I.." "No.. I think you look good as a seawing. I like that the earring chose a mix of more saturated green-ish blue scales. Unique in pattern but not out of place for a seawing." He smirked "but I do miss your original look."

Sunhunters face scales felt faintly like her sandwing warm ones but it went away quickly. She smiled "I have a great hunger for fish now." "Beats those awful roasted tarantulas you used to eat." He stuck his tongue out. "You never tried them so don't start." Sunhunter raised her head, her shiny sea ready scales catching the moonlight. Watching the moons for a moment she turned back to snapping turtle "Well what should my new name be? Sunhunter isn't... seawing... like."

He glanced away "hm.. clam?" "Clam?" Sunhunter retracted "Are you saying I have a big mouth?" She glared. "No! I just- ugh ill get something else…" He rubbed his chin "I'm not good at names…"

Sunhunter sighed before flopping into the sand. A faint dizzy feeling hitting her like a wave "So when does the dizzness stop?"

Snapping turtled perked up as she curled into a C "Cove! Your new name should be cove." He smiled as sunhunter titled her head "Hm... I do like it... but it doesnt mean something dumb does it?"

"No no... A cove is just a small bay often secluded. The waters often have a greenish blue look." He nudged her with a wing "I can show you."

"Ok... but dont let me drown..." She steadied herself and headed toward the water

Snapping turtle chuckled "Of course."

[denwritesandcries]

YJS HCs – body types

Pairings: Yellowjackets x fem!reader

Summary: Okay so, I was thinking about body types so I could add details to my Shauna fic, really small things like skin marks and other stuff and that made me think about the other yjs too. I'm not used to writing headcanons, but here are a few that I couldn't get out of my head.

Word count: 1,9k.

Content: my personal headcanons, cursing, suggestive, fluff, insecurities, hurt/comfort, recent pop culture references so i guess modern!AU??

Note: This is so random and specific I don't think anyone will read it but I wanted to write it so badly.

English is not my first language.

shauna shipman

- I think Shauna is the most athletic of the girls, since in the first episode it’s said that she is the fastest on the team. Not necessarily thin; she is solid. Solid and warm. A warm wall seeking your touch all the time.

- She would always try to keep one hand on you and every time she touched you, her skin would be scalding hot, as if she barely needed gloves in the winter and only wore them because you told her to.

- Big spoon! She likes to wrap her arms around you and let her body wrap you completely when you cuddle or sleep together, her weight relaxing against you.

- Shauna is strong, like really strong and she knows it, her arms and legs are toned from training and she takes advantage of this to tease you at any opportunity, carrying things for you willingly (your backpack, shopping, whatever, she would be exactly like the *aggressively moves all groceries to one hand to hold yours* meme), rolling up the sleeves of her flannels ‘cause the muscles stand out, pressing you against walls/counters or simply carrying you during makeout sessions and nothing you do will take away the smug smile on her lips – well, barely nothing.

- She would also wear tank tops and shorts frequently just to make you nervous and receive compliments. It's ridiculous ‘cause she really thinks she's being subtle (she isn't).

“Shaunie, you sure you don’t want a jacket?”

“No, I’m good like that.” She's not, but she won't admit it.

“It’s raining.” You insist.

“The cold doesn't bother me anyway.” She shrugs, but leans back against you, placing her chin on your shoulder.

You snort, “Sure thing then, Elsa.”

- Shauna has a happy trail! Little baby hairs going up to her navel where she melts into a puddle when you caress her, goosebumps covering her skin in the same second.

van palmer

- I believe Van has rough hands from her goalie gloves! They're always warm even if the rest of her body isn't ‘cause of the constant movement – she expresses herself a lot with her hands too. She likes to run them down your sides just to see how your skin crawls, sometimes she does it out of nowhere just to scare you because she thinks it's funny.

- I think her skin is very sensitive, the kind that's full of moles and burns easily in the sun – you're constantly reminding her to put on sunscreen, but it's no use – she loves it when you trace patterns on her spots before bed or when you're bored somewhere.

- Her skin being so sensitive also means that hickeys and scratches are really hard to hide on her. She doesn't mind, in fact she seems to enjoy it a lot, you catch her a lot of times watching the marks spread across her shoulders and neck as they take days to disappear. That doesn't stop her from teasing you tho.

“It's been a week and there's still a purple mark on my neck. What are you, a damn vampire?” She mocks.

“Nah, you act like you wouldn't love me to be your Edward Cullen.”

She lifts her chin at you, “A leech then.”

"Van!"

- She has a belly and is very proud of it! She says it's the best for defending the goal and that it makes her fall to catch the ball less painful; She'll flex her muscles like a gym athlete when she's changing playfully just to seduce you (it works every time). She loves it when she lies in your arms after a bad day and you squish her tightly, it helps her calm down.

- She also has a happy trail, but she is too ticklish, like really ticklish. Many of your makeout sessions end up interrupted by her giggling when you drag your hands too softly under her shirt, she prefers firm touches.

- Van definitely has lots of small scars spread across her body from accidents over the years, that little weirdo (affectionate).

nat scatorccio

- Nat is as pale as a ghost, it would be impossible not to notice when you made her blush for any reason. She would try to distract you so you don't pay attention to it, but it wouldn't put off anything.

- The dark circles under her eyes are extremely pronounced, both due to her paleness and the heavy makeup she wears, so you always know when she's had a bad day or simply hasn't slept enough. She will complain incessantly about you making her stop and rest, but she will always do what you ask.

- I truly believe that she has lots and lots of moles all over her body, especially on her back.

- Some are bigger than others, large spots on the skin and she pretends that her heart doesn't warm with the fascination you have for them, but the prominent red face says everything you need to know.

“They look like small constellations, Nat," you sigh dreamily, hands soft on her naked skin, “Man, I wish I knew a single shit about stars so I could name them.”

“I’m shirtless in front of you and that’s what you’re thinking about?”

- I think she would have a lot of acne, especially on her face from sleeping and forgetting to take off her cheap makeup often, you would have to do a skin care routine together for her to really start taking care of it.

- She definitely has a tattoo scar that she got from one of those shady professionals before she was eighteen and didn't take care of it properly. You almost freaked out when she showed it to you out of fear that it would get infected. In the end she ended up with a weird drawing and a skin failure, but for Nat it was totally worth it, she says it makes her look like a badass (it's definitely not just because you kiss the mark every time you see it).

lottie matthews

- Alright then, let me tell you, this girl is FREEZING from head to toe. No matter how well she dresses up, her whole body will remain strangely cold, which worries you at a certain point, so what better way to keep her warm than to have her glued to you like a koala all day?

- She would place her cold hands on your neck just to bother you and then smile innocently when you took them in yours to rub them and blow warm air on them. That smartass.

- Lottie is tall (at least a lot taller than me) and I think she would have a lot of growth marks, you don't grow like that as a teenager without some.

- Light streaks on the back, hips, legs and thighs that would vary in tone over time. I think she would have the habit of hiding them so that people wouldn't comment, wearing long stockings with her skirts at school parties.

- She would be so flustreaded if you showed that you liked them by running your hands up her inner thighs, scratching her back gently to feel the smooth texture of the taut skin. It makes her feel so loved.

- She has sun spots on her face, around her eyes and cheeks. You think it's so beautiful that you could admire it for hours, anywhere, but you usually do it in bed in the morning.

“Are you watching me sleep, dear?” Lottie mumbles as she wakes to find you giving her a love gauze.

“Hm-hm,” you deny quietly, “‘Not watching you sleep. I’m watching you.”

“Oh.”

jackie taylor

- Now, Jackie would have stretch marks and be completely insecure about them. The girl needs constant validation about everything that concerns her and you better give it to her, she just wants to feel loved.

- Marks on her hips and chest that most of the time wouldn't even be visible, but she would still remember they were there. You run your hands down her sides as gently as possible and she will have tears in her eyes as you snuggle, heart warm.

- Your support helps her feel more comfortable with her own body over time, but she still wants compliments every day and will give you hints ‘til you comply with her requests.

- Jackie has freckles! This is actually one of the things she likes most about her face, the trail of dots around her nose and eyes. She’ll melt into a puddle on the floor if you start to kiss them one by one, but will lose patience if you decide to count them and stop the act of leaving wet kisses on them. She's not very good at waiting.

“Babe!” She whimpers.

“Just a second, sweetie, I’m almost finishing.” You continue, a look of pure concentration on your face, muttering “35, 36, 37…”

“No.” She says, hand grabbing the collar of your t-shirt and pulling you against her, “Come back now.”

- Jackie isn't necessarily icy, but she gets cold very easily and isn't shy about asking for your coat or jacket when you're together. Your girlfriend is a princess, better treat her like one. She'll squeeze her body against yours in bed and steal the blankets to stay warm.

- She has spots on her arms! Hundreds of light spots on the outside of the wrists to the shoulders, it's almost imperceptible, but so cute. Make sure to always let her know how beautiful she is.

misty quigley

- I think Misty has acne scars on her shoulders and cheeks, little red dots spreaded. She don't mind it most of time, but can be very insecure about it.

- She would be really suspicious if you just showered her with compliments out of nowhere just ‘cause you think she’s upset, so acting is better. Actions speak more to her.

- Place soft kisses on her shoulders, gently bite her cheek so she rolls her eyes in that nervous way she does. Make her feel beautiful as she is – because she is.

- She would be so pleased with you spoiling her that she would pretend to be sad about it a lot of times just to get your attention, she is an evil little genius. It’s captivating.

- She has freckles too! Little dots on her face so lightly that you only see them when she takes off her glasses, but they are there.

“I kiss you everyday, how did I never notice your freckles before?”

“Oh, I don't know.” She shrugs innocently, “Maybe you should take a closer look, baby.”

- She thinks she's so smooth but in reality she's a mess, the girl can't pick up social cues to save her life.

tai turner

- Okay so, Tai is the type who takes the football really seriously and works hard to win and to do that she would try to stay in shape as much as possible. I can easily imagine her doing extra training sessions and her friends teasing her about it, ‘cause Tai, it's a high school team.

- Because of this, I think she would have stretch marks on her back and calves, light fine lines that stand out against her dark skin. These are marks of her effort, so she shows them with great pride.

- She gets very smug and her skin crawls when you run your nails over the marks on her back.

- Tai is strong, strong enough to break someones leg on the field (sorry not sorry allie) and will show off for it whenever she gets the chance. She likes to wrap her arms around you from behind and lift you off the ground when she's passing by.

- She has sun spots on her face and arms! You think it's so cute, but if you say something silly and cheesy about it she'll roll her eyes and tell you to stop embarrassing her.

You sigh, “You are so, so pretty, Tai.”

“And you are so, so lame.” She echos, “...Come here, let me kiss you.”

- Happy wife, happy life. Always make her feel appreciated, she deserves it.

[penvisions]

services requested {chapter six}

Pairing: Kept Man! Joel Miller x Sugar Momma! Reader

Summary: Time apart allows Joel to focus on the renovations of your home while you busy yourself with working alongside a close friend. But the way you to communicate in the meantime might be considered the complete opposite of the agreement to move slowly you two made...

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: Warnings: no outbreak au, modern au, age gap (joel is mid 50's, reader is late 20's / early 30's), reader is more of an oc written in the x reader style, reader is described to have a scar and tattoos, mommy vibes, reader see's joel and knows she wants to provide for him, joel is older and tired, power dynamics, sexual undertones, instant connection, mutual pining, flirting, casual touches, mutual attraction, angst, family drama, strained family dynamics, mentions of past trauma, mentions of physical attack (very brief), allusions to predatory behavior, allusions to power imbalances within the tattoo world, soft joel, oral (m receiving), um i think that's it?

A/N: OKAY I LIED ABOUT NOT POSTING WRITING but am now officially shifting into focus on finals lol this is a long one, but with the help of @lotusbxtch and @itsokbbygrlbutworsethistime i think the narrative worked out better than my first drafts. also if you were tagged in a poll post- tumblr decided to eat that and i haven't redone it yet lol

ao3 || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

You’re so warm.

You’re so comfortable.

Burrowed in the blankets with a breeze sneaking in through the screen of the cracked open balcony door, the smell of salt in the air like a soft balm.

You feel a weight beside you, creating a slight dip in the bed that you’re sunk into on your right. A huff of damp breath on lands on your shoulder in an even pattern, the brush of thick scruff there too and you smile hazily through the tendrils of sleep that don’t seem to want to let you go.

Everything is slow and syrupy, the way your body hums at a low frequency as you shift to your side, loose hair falling over your shoulder. It tickles and causes goosebumps to sprout along your shoulders, the soft fabric of your sleep tank top caressing in a way that makes you clench your thighs, nipples hardening at the cooler air that sweeps underneath the covers.

A small huff, a heavier breath hits your collarbone while a thick hand curls over the flare of your waist.

You dip your head low and press your lips to the tip of Joel’s nose, the skin so warm on your lips. A gentle one to the full pout of his bottom lip, to the butt of his chin, the column of his neck. Mind slow as sleep wanes naturally, you realize it’s some of the best sleep you’ve had in a while, because of the man who lays beside you.

He doesn’t stir but his lips purse the smallest bit as you gently push against his chest with both your hands onto his back. The hand around your waist drags over the fabric of your sleep shirt, pulling it with the deft weight but you pay it no mind as you continue to kiss down his sturdy body. He’s bare save for a pair of boxer briefs, his own shirt shucked off sometime in the night and his dark chest hair is soft against your palms as you caress him gently.

The sheets move with you both as you settle yourself over his legs, chest pressed to the thick trunks of his thighs, the little glimpses of ink below each knee sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine. He’s got such little tattoos, from the two you now know he has on his legs to the bullseye on the soft spot between his thumb and pointer finger on his left hand. They’re a little blown out with age and it makes you wonder how old he was when he got them. He’s got one on his inner right wrist as well, but you know the meaning behind it as your mom cried to you over the phone one day after moving into the neighborhood.

It's an ode to his mother.

Such a sweet, kindhearted man.

The total opposite of what you were used to and it…it mists your eyes a bit as you gaze up at his face from where you lean over his soft stomach. He’s good, you know it in your very soul. Even if your mind is taking a moment to catch up- always watching for signs to run. You really hope you wouldn’t have to run from him, he’s…he’s filled your life with so much and you’ve only known him for a handful of months.

You hope to know him for far longer.

You press the thought, the prayer, into the skin above his belly button, trialing your nails down the same path a dark trail of hair makes to his waistband. He’s half hard beneath the fabric on his waist, his chest rising and falling with deeper breaths as his body revels in your soft attention. His plush lips part as you nuzzle your cheek against the weight of him. He pulses as you do, again as you press a kiss to the length, to the head. Just as your fingers begin to trace the outline of him, your palm whispers over him until there’s suddenly a hand clamping down over yours and pressing it firmly against the full hardness that’s built up.

“Oh!” Your breath leaves you, completely caught up in your slow, sensual exploration of Joel’s body. Eyes flick up quickly to see him peering down at you with sleepy, hooded eyes. But there’s no mistaking how dilated his pupils are, how fast his breathing turned.

Without a word, he’s helping you push the elastic down and the thick, hardness of him springs up. It lays heavy against the softness of his belly and you keep your eyes locked on his as you lean in and lick a stripe up the underside. The moan that breaks free from his chest is deep, a rumble you feel in your bones and sends pleasure skittering over your skin like lightning.

The skin below tightens, draws up and you feel the bump of his balls on the sensitive skin of your neck, heady and so fucking soft. You lean back a little to press a kiss there, a garbled sound floating into the air as Joel’s neck arches, head flat against the pillow to display his messy curls in a halo around his beautiful face. With steady hands, you cup them and massage the velvet skin, nails scratching delicately. His cock twitches and you feel powerful.

But you don’t abuse it, keeping your attention soft but steady as you reach underneath just a little to rub the pad of your middle finger just behind them.

“Sh-shit-!” His large hands tangle in your hair, almost holding you in place. His knuckles pop and his hips jerk, the heat of him lands against your cheek, smearing his arousal there. You reach for him, wrapping a firm hand around the base and circle your tongue to taste where it leaks from him, eyes peering through lashes to see him staring down at you with such a wrecked expression.

With a small nod, more of a twitch of his chin, you wrap your lips around him and hum.

He’s sitting up suddenly, pushing your shoulders back to duck his gaze and see your own wild eyes.

“I want to see you, will you let me?” His hands clench around the fabric, the pull of it taut to stretch over your breasts and give him a visual of how hard your nipples are. The jiggle of the flesh there taunts him, makes his tongue heavy in his mouth for the feel of it between his teeth. You lean back on your haunches, making such a pretty picture for him in the dimly lit room, the sunlight sneaking in from where the balcony curtains aren’t quite shut all the way. The fabric is tugged over your head, thrown to the end of the bed and he gulps as he takes in your full figure.

“Perfect, darlin’,” He presses the compliment to your collarbone as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer.

“Just…no um, no looking down there.” You whisper, self-consciousness and a little flutter of nerves lighting you up along with the pleasure of feeling him so close. You nipples brush his bare chest and your lashes flutter, head knocking back as he peppers kisses to your shoulders and neck. “But you can touch.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with is good enough for me.” And then he captures your lips in a searing kiss and maneuvers you back down on the bed.

“Dad has a crush on the neighbor’s daughter.” Ellie says as soon as Sarah and her pull up to the pickup line at the airport. Joel is standing there in a nicer pair of jeans they’ve never seen before paired with a silk shirt that has abstract splotches of color. The glitter of a gold chain about his neck and the screen of his phone flash in the bright sunlight. He’s peering down at the screen through a new pair of sunglasses, thumbs working fast as he types into the device with a crooked smile.

“No way! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me as soon as you landed,” Sarah pouts, eyes watching the way her father is completely absorbed in what he’s doing. “Is that why he flew in separately?”

“Dude, it was straight out of one of your romance novels! Grey’s mom came over to give him the keys for some work he’ll be doing on her house because she left on a trip. And man, the moment he knew she was about to board a plane alone- he took off! He literally just-“ Ellie mimes turning a wheel harshly and screeches lowly to imitate tired peeling on the street.

“He’s never really showed interest in anyone before,” Sarah muses as she catches sight of her dad throwing his head back in a deep laugh- she can practically feel the vibrations of the loud wheezing that sound when he does. His curls bounce and the dimple in his right cheek creates a shadow amid his trimmed scruff. He’s fucking glowing and it makes her feel warm all over- all she’s ever wanted for him is to be happy.

“He spent the past few days with her in fuckin’ LA. That’s where he’s been, not some job or whatever he might’ve told you.”

“He didn’t say much, just said that something came up but he’d be here.”

“She’s badass, Sar. Like full fledged tattoo artist with a giant following. She’s hired him as like a personal contractor, he’s gonna help build her new shop front. Keep him busy without breaking his back, like he tends to do throwing himself into jobs he takes on too close to each other. Her only works for her and whatever else he chooses to take outside of that.”

“He can focus on his woodworking…” Sarah feels an immense relief, the worry of him being on job site after job site with little to know space between them easing at the thought of him being able to have more agency to pick his work now.

“He always did like that a little more, making the cabinets and furniture for the places he does remodels on…” Ellie continues, thinking the same thing but also knowing that you would give him better compensation, better budgets, a reason to continue with a little more caution than throwing himself into everything he can take on to keep the business afloat. She’s already a witness to the shift in Joel’s energy, the way he doesn’t sluggishly wake each morning before the sun rises after practically collapsing into the bed or couch at a late hour.

“Should we ask her to get a workshop, so he has more room than the garage?” It’s a question that neither of them know you’ve considered already.

“He’d never ask for it himself.”

Then Sarah is honking the horn to finally get Joel’s attention, and his head snaps up.

“There’s just one more thing…” Ellie’s voice dips, as if she’s almost…nervous to say the thing stuck in her throat.

“She’s around our age isn’t she?”

“She’s got about six years on us.”

Just as Joel opens the back door of the SUV, they break the conversation up and greet him with enthusiasm.

“So, a- uh, friend of mine, got us some open reservations for a spa and a nice steakhouse we should pin down times for. Gift for all of us.”

“Hell yeah, happy dad’s birthday!”

“Happy dad’s birthday!” Sarah cheers as she shifts the gear into drive with a glance in the rearview mirror. Joel is looking down at his phone with a goofy smile and she mirrors that too as she drives off from the pickup zone.

Your phone is trilling before you even realize you’ve pressed the call button. But it’s still set on the table as your eyes rove over to where your friend wandered off to. She’s barely at the bar when a man approaches her, arms displaying beautiful ink. Her eyes drag over him, her attention caught completely, and you can’t help but giggle at the heat behind their eye contact even from so far away.

“Sweetheart, everythin’ okay? All I hear is loud music and I think you just giggled. Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice is like a faint breeze, not quite registering in that moment as you feel the pulse of the bass playing from the speakers and your eyes follow the colored flashes of exposed skin and shadows from the lights that illuminate the club in an erotic way. The alcohol in your system is making everything glow and tingle, captivating your mind and making you feel like you’re truly living. Moments like that still few and far between, even if it’s been nearly six months since you’ve completely revamped your life.

“Hey there, looks like my friend and your friend have left us in the dust.” A tall, gorgeous man approaches you and slides into the seat that is now empty. “How about another round on me until they make their way back?”

“Grey!” Joel hollers, not wanting to hear whatever is going on and unsure if you dialed him on accident, he turns the muted television off in the room Sarah’s given him for the week. It’s the downstairs one of the townhouse, Ellie upstairs in the other, so there’s no chance of anyone hearing the slight desperation in his tone. You hear him this time and scrabble for your phone.

“Sorry, this is important!” And you scurry up and out the front door, waving at your friend to signal you were stepping out. Your voice is sweet like honey, thick and drawling a bit like his does when he’s tired at the end of the day or just woken up from a good night’s sleep. “Hiiii, Joel, how long have you been on the line?”

“A few minutes, where are you, are you okay?” Joel doesn’t dare ask after the voice that approached you…you two hadn’t exactly talked out the specifics of what ‘going slow’ meant when it came to the attraction you shared. He knows he isn’t the type to give attention to someone else while traversing this shifting dynamic with you, but you’re younger and you encounter far more interesting people than him on nearly an hourly basis.

“Yes, yes, yes. I am A-okay, how are you?” He can hear the slur of your words, the breathy way you’re speaking, he can practically smell the rose of your perfume mixed with whatever alcohol you’ve obviously consumed. “I was thinking about you, the bed is so big without you in it.”

Good lord, he thinks as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Disjointed memories of your skin underneath his roaming hands, the whimpers he kissed from your lips as he pulled pleasure from you, his own skin prickling even as heat races down his spine and he huffs out a disbelieving laugh, you’re drunk dialing him.

“Are-are you havin’ a good time, sweetheart?”

“Ye-ah, but- but if I have one more person come up to me and tell me a corny pick-up joke, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t like ‘em?”

“I…I like them, but not if someone is serious about it.”

“Well,” And Joel settles into the bed, pulling the covers over him even as he bends his knees and feels the length of his cock between his thighs. The hardness there begs for attention, for hands to caress, but he’s alone and only has your voice on the other side of the line. His voice dips deeper, like gravel heated by the sun in midday and he murmurs into the phone. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?”

You make a sinful little sound, like a whimper that you’ve clamped down by biting your bottom lip. And he knows he’s done good if the pulse of his cock is any indication.

“Are you askin’ me if I’m wearing underwear, Mr. Miller?” He groans, reaching to press a palm to his cock, the fabric damp where the tip of him strains.

“Fuck, are you?” He rasps out before he can stop it, this was supposed to be a joke to soothe your annoyance. But it feels very, very real.

“Nope.” You’re all smooth confidence when the ‘p’ pops and he pictures the purse of your lips around the word.

He’s about to say something else but then the line goes dead. He tries to call but it goes straight to voicemail and then his text just displays ‘sent’. Feeling considerably cock-blocked, he realizes that your phone must’ve died. So he does what any sane person would do and checks your socials. The Instagram page that he had last seen was your old one, kept up for now set to private for reasons regarding your ongoing litigation with the court system. But he got the name of your actual one and scans the profile.

There’s a video of you dancing with the friend you must be out with, all strobing lights and bumping music, a scene he’d never frequented himself even before Sarah came along. He scrolls through the photos as his body calms down from your exchange, seeing flashes of your life through them. He can clearly see the transition from where you were before to where you are now in Austin.

His heart skips a beat when he notices the back of his head and shoulders in one photo, his hands dirty with dried mortar as he lay tiles down in your parents kitchen. Tendrils of your loose hair blur the corner of the photo- you must’ve leaned over him when he was caught up in the work.

And then there’s a new photo of you that resets his spot in the middle of your feed to the very top.

It must’ve been set to post because he really does think your phone died in the hectic outing you’re on.

It looks professional, your make-up is done and you’re standing in front of a shopfront, the shot taken from far enough away for him to see the name painted onto the building’s façade. The post is announcing your guest residence at the shop with the date for tomorrow being the grand opening, inviting people to drop by to mingle and make an appointment in person. Your assistants information and profile is linked for a better shot at securing something.

Joel saves the photo and assigns it to your contact before locking his phone and settling into the bed completely.

“Beau?” You call as you open the door to the shop you’ll be working at for the time being, guest spots are always tricky but they get good word of mouth and social traction online. You want to help make your friends own dream a success and if that means spending some time in Los Angeles, then who are you to disagree?

“Ba-by, you made it!” The second you’re through the door, a figure encloses you into their arms and squeezes you. Easy laughter rings out as you wrap your arms around the tall man and brace for the spin you know he’s about to do. Lifting you easily, he does. Spinning you a few times before he settles you back down on your feet.

“Beau, you are as energetic as ever.” You press your chin into his chest and simply breathe. This man, you feel so incredibly safe with this man. He’s seen you through your worst moments, helped you to escape a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in. Beat the crap out of your ex-husband when he found out what had you ignoring his calls and disappearing from a shared social scene. Helped to testify against the bastard and get you a good protection clause from the judge that resided over your case. He’s a good man. One of your true friends, he hadn’t turned on you like some of the others. Siding with the wrong person in an obvious person in a black and white situation.

“All for you, baby.” He leans down to press his lips to your forehead, and you deflate into him. He holds your weight and simply holds you. Something you’ve grown an aversion to, basic human contact beyond that required of your trade. Joel is the only other one who’s felt safe enough.

“Wait a minute…” Beau is pushing you back a little to look over your face and he sees the spark in your eyes that’s been gone for far too long, lingering below the surface but not shining through. “You totally had sex, didn’t you?”

Your answering scoff and avoidance of eye contact is all the answer he needs.

“You did, is that why you didn’t come out last night?”

“He actually left two days ago and Kumi dragged me out to some really loud club down on Sunset.”

“Hmm, I know the place,” His green eyes watch you as you avoid his gaze. Knowing you’ll share your thoughts with him in your own time.

“We didn’t… have sex.” You detangle yourself from him and begin to look over the decorated entry way to the shop. Completed but not open yet, that would be tomorrow, after the little party to kick off the announcement held tonight. You approach the counter, glittering body jewelry beneath shining glass and open one of the binders laid out atop it.

“But you did let someone in your pants,” Beau rests the length of an arm against the countertop and leans on his shoulder to watch you with soft eyes.  

“Well, more like I got into his, but-“ You wave a hand at him while the other leafs through a binder atop the counter that will act as a check in and transaction point for the shop. “Semantics.”

“Grey, that’s so good to hear. And not because I’m a raging pervert like you like to tease.” He reaches a hand out to latch onto your wrist. “This is genuinely good, you deserve to feel comfortable and to have someone you care about like that.”

“It…it scares me.” You confess in a small voice.

“That means it’s real.”

Ellie is all but shoving her phone under his nose one evening as he melts into the couch, head leaning back over the top of the backing cushions. He’d finished the flooring installation in your kitchen, the bathrooms, put plush carpet down in your bedroom and upstairs hallway today. His back aches and his knees keep clicking but he doesn’t mind if it means you’ll have the perfect house.

“Geez, kid, gonna pop me one like that.” He rights himself a little, hand taking the device from her small one. Pulled up on her screen are photos you’ve posted within the hour. You’re standing wrapped up in the arms of a man, posing for the camera with a wide smile and a lot of skin on display. The name of a magazine branded above you both, your names listed on in smaller text beside your center image. The announcement for the shop you’ve flown all across the desert for in print.

“She’s gonna be gone a while, says she’s helping to get everything off the ground and running.” Joel hears her as he scrolls through the caption announcing as much, a month- a little more and many thanks and praises for the press and the friend you’re helping that can only be the man wrapped around you.

He’s fucking handsome, Joel will admit that much. But not the twinge of jealousy that rises and wans in his chest quickly.

“Yeah, she’s pretty important.”

“She also teased the announcement of her own shop opening soon. The one you’re building. She put your name and said some pretty nice things about you in the article.”

“I am buildin’ it for her.”

“Yes, dad, I know.” Joel looks up from the little edited video of you seated and hunched over someone’s back as you outline a giant formation of flowers surrounding a cattle skull. Your concentration is furrowing your brow, your arms flexing with the wipe of the spot you’re working on before you press the tip of the tattoo machine back down. The video flashes to a party inside the shop the post is about, so many beautiful people mingling and laughing. Tilted party hat atop your head as you and your friend raise shining flutes in a cheer.

“The last slide is of her talking about, um, the thing you told me about.”

‘Ah, yes, I was waiting for you to ask about that.’

‘Only if you don’t mind sharing some of what happened. We know that you’re currently going through the court system but have always been vocal about equality and personal safety within the scene. But we do, unfortunately, see it all the time in this industry. The play of power and the intimacies that develop between apprentices and the people leading them into the scene.’

‘My own experience was a little extreme, but rest assured, the shops and people I associate with are vetted and do not tolerate anything toxic. Or that could lead to toxic behavior developing. We really want to try and nurture positive energy here, with the work we do and the spaces we create. It’s about the art, about the sharing of something that can be so deeply personal to everyone that walks through the door.’

‘You’ve worked alongside a lot of officials to try and change general contract wording, to raise awareness for the things that have happened and could still happen in these spaces. But we still see the almost…defense for the people who dole out the quid pro quo exchange of sexual favors in exchange for guidance and teaching of skills when they meet a certain… standard of appearance.’

‘Yes, we do see a lot of defense for perpetrators in those cases. People romanticize situations that can crop up. Things along the lines of ‘they can train me any day’ or ‘learning a new skill and sharing a bed, sounds like a dream come true’. But it’s not. The trauma of being asked that let alone accepting the conditions proposed by someone in a higher standing than you, it’s…it’s a disrespect to both the art and the parties involved. Infatuation and physical attraction are one thing, reading about those types of relationships in books and online, but…there is that rare instance that a genuine connection can bloom from spending so much time with someone and working alongside them day after day.’

‘We’re erring into fantasy territory and the like, wouldn’t you think?’

‘Haha, yes we very much are. And that’s okay! Fantasy and exploring situations in which you find tempting or even as a way to cope with things that have happened to you are all a part of being human. So long as all parties involved give full consent and are okay with playing out scenarios, go right ahead with your little horny selves. But don’t forget the real-life trauma of human connection shattering when it’s not and certain lines are crossed that shouldn’t be.’

‘Genuine connection is the whole reason we’re here, isn’t it? Finding an artist that can convey the thing you want and then creating it for you to permanently place on your skin. Finding friends and making social connections with those in a shop that you feel comfortable it. Finding a scene that accepts you as you are and helps you to be more yourself.’

‘Couldn’t have said it better myself. We’re all just looking for that- to feel seen, to really connect with someone. Someone taking advantage of another person’s vulnerability in any way is a fucking disgrace.’

‘There you have it, be nice, be respectful and believe that Grey here will put you behind bars if you so much as think of abusing your power in the tattoo scene!’

Laughter fades out as the video ends, the screen going blank in his hand.

“She’s really somethin’, ain’t she?” He’s completely unaware of the look Ellie gives him as his eyes close and he feels a comforting warmth in his chest. You’re so eloquent, so free with the things you share for the sake of others, the best kind of good that he can’t believe he’s been privy to in quiet and shared moments.

“She’s a fucking badass.”

“Shit.” Joel’s tires screech as he breaks to a stop right outside your house, truck idling in the street as he notices a foreign car in the driveway. He feels his heart thud heavily in his chest as he realizes that he can see a shadow pass by the living room window to reappear in the kitchen one. Frowning, he pulls the truck into the drive beside it and puts it into park, making sure to block the exit way if the person comes running out.

You weren’t due home for a few more days, and he was just driving by to see if something for the backyard had been delivered. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears as he grabs a hammer from the cab’s small back seat where his tool belt is set. He can’t hear anything but the rustling of boxes being moved, but they should be securely in the garage alongside your vehicle. The door opens, unlocked and he frowns at that. He remembers locking it two days ago when he had finished painting. He was set to assemble the furniture he made you, some of it based on the things you linked in an email or you were trying to find things that measured correctly for the new dimensions of spaces. Some of it he bought outright with the card supplied to him and others he put built himself.

Rattling sounds from the kitchen and he slowly approaches the threshold from the entryway. He raises the hammer and rounds the trim he just replaced.

“Drop it!” He barks, voice bellowing deep and loud.

“Shit!” You squeak, scrabbling for the chef’s knife you just unpacked from one of the boxes that has the label ‘kitchenware’ on it. You wield it tightly, held high as you turn around, blood rushing in your ears as you brace for an attack. You can hardly hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears and your vision is sharp, almost too bright as you take in the form of a large man in the doorway that leads into the rest of the house.

The second Joel’s eyes land on you between the island and the counter that runs along the opposite wall, he’s lowing the hammer and taking a deep breath. All of the rage and anger leaving him as he realizes he just scared the crap out of you. Guilt slams into him as he see’s you almost frozen, your chest the only thing moving as your breaths come and go too fast for his liking.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry!” He’s setting it on the island and rounding the corner as the knife clatters to the ground from your shaking, his voice triggering the tremors. He hovers while you seem frozen in place, not sure if he should reach for you. “I thought it was someone stealin’.”

You turn away from him and his heart stutters at the tears you try to hide with the action. But he doesn’t reach for you, even as you wrap your arms around yourself.

There’s a honk that sounds from the street and he curses before saying he’ll be right back. You hear the tires of his truck along the road before you hear the engine cut off. Just as he’s walking back through the door, closing and locking it behind him you’ve wiped the tears away and offer him a watery twitch of your mouth.

“Did you really leave your truck running in the street?”

“Well, uh,” He pockets his keys and looks a little bashful as he looks over the open boxes and the way your sandals slide along the new tile. “I thought someone was in your house and-“

“You’re a silly man,” You walk right up to him, despite the little trembles that shake your hands still. His breathing picks up. Leaning up, you press a kiss to his jawline. “But admirable.”

“Did you take a look around, everythin’ to your liking?” He deflect. But you allow him the grace and follow him around the house as he shows you the minor work he’s done in your time away. Parting with another apology for startling you and a brush of his knuckles against your cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear afterwards.

“Knock knock!” A distant voice calls, pulling your focused attention from the tablet you’re trying to connect to the printer. The bell above the door jingles even if the door doesn’t open, though someone is certainly trying to get in through it. You set the tablet down atop your station and peer around the corner toward the lobby. Ellie is peering through the glass with a cupped hand and her face breaks into a silly smile when she spies you.

“Grey! Lemme in, yeah?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” You project your voice with a smirk as you approach the door and clock the lock open.

“I’m such a pleasure.” She winks at you before looking all along the walls and taking in the heavily decorated space. “So…I’m actually here to ask you something.”

“Is your dad okay?” Panic flares suddenly, thinking the worst of things that could happen. Her next words don’t exactly lend comfort but they do dispel the extremes floating in your mind.

“Dad’s fine, but it is about him. Not even complaining about the way that he nearly broke his finger yesterday hammerin’ something all to hell in the garage.”

“Okay?” You worry for a moment about that statement, but you look around the small parking lot to find only your own vehicle. “Did you take the bus here?”

“What? Oh yeah, no car equals public transport.” She waves off your concern, mind already thinking of a way to approach the subject with Joel. Ellie is tough, but with school in the middle of a semester you wonder how she’s getting to and from campus safely. “I wanted to ask you about the city block you bought.”

“Sarah and I have been trying to get him to sell his woodworking for years, but he’s always got this list of excuses, ya know? Too much space to rent, doesn’t have the proper tools, doesn’t have the time blah blah blah.”

“Ellie, are you asking me to ask your dad to build himself the perfect spot for him to exactly that?” You could almost laugh at the very same thought process you were trying to nail down into more a more concrete idea.

“Well, yeah. I know you aren’t exactly…shy about doin’ stuff for him and this would help him to maintain a hobby.” She shrugs, though you see the way her fingers twitch at her sides- exactly like how Joel’s do when he’s nervous or thinking something over to hard, accessing.

“I’m not shy about doing stuff for him, you’re right. But he- uh- this is kinda big.”

“But you’ll try?” She holds out a hand for you to shake, an agreement between the two of you. Obliging her, as you really didn’t know what to do with the space other than to potentially rent it out to artists for shows or as a shop front for a local business looking for a new space, gifting it to Joel makes perfect sense.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” You clasp your hand with hers and shake it.

“I’m really glad you two met and not just cause you’re loaded,” She laughs something bright. “Not just cause of that, but he’s also…happier.”

“He makes me happy too.” You confess to her. Her eyes catching on the print with a bunch of different moths framed on the wall has your mind shifting into business mode. Watching closely as her hand coming up to rub at the thick scar tissue on her right forearm.

“You know…I can draw one of those up for you to put there.” Her face swings up to you, smiling softly at her. “If you want?”

“Well, well, well.” You trill as you lift your sunglasses from their perch on your nose up to the top of your head. The sounds of drills and hammering echo all around and the very real frame of your shop stands in front of you on half of a city block downtown. But that’s not what has your attention- it’s Joel Miller in a rather fitting shirt and dirty pair of jeans walking towards you with a little sway of his slim hips.

The broadness of his shoulders, the way his boots give him an extra inch or two over you. Your eyes linger on the way his jeans are held up by a sturdy belt and just below that…is a tool belt laden with different gleams of metal and wood.

“Like what you see?” He’s smirking at you as he raises his hands up and spreads them wide, flashing you a bit of his tan abdomen as the hem of his shirt lifts up.

“I know I do!” One of his men holler from somewhere within the collection of lumber planks that will eventually be your home away from home.

“Shut it, Hank!” He tosses over his shoulder with a little frown. His voice is a bark that stirs something in you, but it isn’t fear. “Let’s get on the exterior!”

“Be nice, they love you.”

“We do not!” A chorus bellows out and you try to muffle your laughter behind a hand when Joel’s shoulders inch up closer to his ears.

“Hear that? That’s the thanks I get for keepin’ on their sorry asses in the shift from public to private business.”

“What about me?” You project your voice, ducking around Joel’s reach for you. Your boots scuff the ground and stir up dust. You click the fob for your trunk to open and the smell of baked goods and fresh coffee float through the air. All sounds of work stop and Joel rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms- watching the way the five guys rush toward you both. His biceps bulge at the action and your eyes snag there as a smug smile breaks out on your face.

He catches the look and dips his head when your eyes flash up to his, he feels like he’s won the little exchange until you turn around and bend over to retrieve the supplies from your trunk and your short skirt inches up to reveal the backs of your thighs, the ink there soaking in the warm sun and stalling his breath.

He’s about to approach you when the guys flow past him with quick steps and loud praise for you and the breakfast you’re gracing them with. You smoothly step aside, though none of them reach to pat you on the shoulder or a fist bump, they know and respect the way you aren’t fond of causal touch. Joel’s heart titters as he watches the tension in your shoulders remain until they’re all over by the trailer used as an office and the tables in front of it for them to have somewhere to sit for breaks.

The pastry box is open, the large to go coffee carafes are set up and the small collection of creamers and sweeteners you brought are removed from paper grocery bags and placed into the serving tray full of the ice they’ve cut out of a plastic one. It’s cute, the way you tried to get a little of everything for them, for him. But it seems you’re holding out on the others as you hold out a square of foil to him. It’s warm when he takes it, fingers brushing yours.

“Foreman gets a breakfast sammie,” He resists the urge to pull you into him and wrap his arms around you, to press a kiss to your temple in thanks. “I…also wanted to run somethin’ by you.”

“Let’s-“ And then he is touching you, a hand at the small of your back to guide your willing body toward the trailer. “Let’s go inside if it’s gonna be more than a minute.”

“Okay.”

Once inside, with cooler air surrounding you both and you’re alone do your shoulders finally loose that tension held there in the muscles.

“So the second building, we’ve got the parameters for the outline. Marked ‘em.” He brings out the blueprints for the entire block when you ask after them, his sandwich held in one hand as he takes a bite and watches the way your eyes rove over the flattened paper. Long nails trace the markers and then the small lot for parking that will be filled and paved in a few days’ time.

“I wanted to talk to you about how to design the space the best way for a workshop.”

“Sure, I can do some research. What kinda workshop were you thinin’?” He says around a mouthful, reaching for the water bottle he’s got on the desk.

“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m like trying to keep you on a leash or like within my sights or-or- or something like that-but um, a woodworking shop?”

“Why would I think- oh,” His gaze knocks up from where he’s sitting down. “That’s…that’s a lot to offer…me.”

“But it’s…it’s okay that I’m offering?”

“Of course it is, sweetheart, but it’s- it’s a lot.”

“I just…I love what I do and you’re making me the space I’ve always dreamed of.” You sit on the edge of the desk, fixing your skirt to cover your thighs. “I just wanted to offer you a space of your own and the girls, they said…they said it would be a good thing for you to have it away from home. A shopfront to sell your cabinets or furniture and-“

“You and the girls talked it over?” Wide eyes, brown and captivating in their expressiveness train on you, causing your chest to feel tight and your palms to sweat despite the ac running in the small space.

“We did, they care about you so much, Joel. They want you to have everything you want and I-I do too.”

“You want me to have everythin’ I want or that you care about me?” He’s rounding the desk and stands in front of you, hands twitching at his sides.

“Both, Joel.” You take in everything about his hopeful expression, the pure goodness of him. “And that terrifies me.”

You wring your hands together, a little nervous to bare true emotions even in the company of someone who has been nothing but honest with you in turn.

“I thought about you every day I was gone and that’s…that’s new for me to miss someone. I mean, I’m barely a year out from being divorced and you-I, Joel, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Missed you too,” He connects the things he feels with the ones you’re telling him you feel, bridging the gap in a way that he never anticipated doing again.

“Sometimes…genuine connection sneaks up on you.” His palms curl over your knees and he’s stepping between them as he parts them.

“Are you quoting me to me?” You narrow your eyes at him, a little self-conscious that he saw the stuff circulating online. It wasn’t that you didn’t regret the things you said in that impromptu interview, but that it was your heart on display for the world to see. You could handle what the world may say but Joel…you cared about what he thought.

“More like paraphrasing.” His lips brush against yours, so fucking close but not quite touching fully. You feel the way he rolls them, feel the wet heat tease of his tongue as he runs it along his bottom lip. “I’m only teasin’…a little.”

Just as you open your mouth to connect it with his, the door to the trailer swings open.

You jump up, nails digging into Joel’s arms nearly breaking his nose with how your head flies up. Joel too, has pushed away, head swinging around to the door.

Tommy Miller stands there, his looks of surprise hardening into one of thinly veiled anger at the sight of you two tearing apart like a couple of guilty teenagers.

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Not now, kitten

Written for @astrangersummer week 13

Words: 972

Prompt: Cat

Relationship: Steve/Eddie

Rated: E

Tags: Explicit sexual content; Fluff; Humor; Awkward sexual situations; Cat dads Steddie

“Pretty thing,” Eddie purrs. His breath tickles the tip of Steve’s cock, overly sensitive and slick with spit and precome. “God, I love when you're like that. You enjoying yourself, honey?” 

Steve hums his approval, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back, eyes closed in bliss. The movement is slow and lazy, and it makes Eddie’s fingers drag along that sweet spot deep inside, the one that makes fireworks explode at the base of his spine and patterns of light dance in the darkness behind his eyelids. Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to the underside of his cock, just below the slit. 

Somebody mewls. 

Eddie laughs, low and pleased. “Love the sounds you make for me, sweetheart.” 

Steve's eyes fly open. Because, see, that wasn't him. 

A pair of big, neon green eyes stares back at him. They glow in the moonlight falling in through the curtains. 

“Eddie…” says Steve. 

Between his legs, Eddie moans. “That's right, baby, say my name.” 

Steve groans, kicking at his back with his heels. 

“No, dumbass, stop it. We've got company.” 

Eddie flinches, fingers bumping Steve’s prostrate. Steve hisses. 

“Oh hey, buddy,” Eddie coos. “What are you doing here?” 

“Mrrrp,” say the eyes. 

Eddie smiles, full of gooey fondness, then turns his attention back to Steve with a wrinkled brow. 

“All that drama just because of the cat, Stevie? You had me afraid it was Buckley again. I mean, I get why you'd want her to have a spare key, but she really needs to learn how to knock if she doesn't wanna see things, especially after-” 

“Excuse me?” Steve snaps. Eddie’s rant barrels to a confused stop. “What do you mean, just because of the cat? This isn't- … You don't- … I can't do this with him staring at me like that.” 

Steve feels Eddie shrug more than he sees it. Having a guy's fingers knuckle-deep up your ass will do that, he guesses. 

“Just leave him, he'll wander off in a minute.” 

“Alfie,” Steve says. “Go away.” 

The tiny gray cat tilts its head at him. “Mrrrewl,” it says. 

Steve groans. “Couldn't follow directions if your life depended on it, huh?” 

“That's because he's a cat, not a dog,” Eddie says, lazily propping his chin up on Steve’s thigh. “They're free spirits. Also, that isn't even his name. Gandalf?” 

The kitten's ears flick. Eddie shoots Steve an obnoxious grin and clears his throat importantly. 

“Take thine leave. My love does not wish for thou to behold him at the pinnacle of his ecstasy.” 

“What the- the pineapple of what?” Steve squawks. 

Gandalf purrs and starts licking his paw. 

“Gandalf, c’mon,” Eddie pleads. “I had a good thing going here.” 

Gandalf gives him an unimpressed side glance, using the wet paw to wash his ear. 

“I told you we should've named him Mittens,” Steve says. “I'd also refuse to answer to that, if I were him.” 

Eddie grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. 

“Ignore him,” he then mumbles, kissing the inside of Steve’s thigh and curling his fingers just so. Steve gasps, eyes fluttering shut without his own conscious doing. “He'll get bored and leave. All you need to focus on right now is this …” 

Steve tries, he really does. Tries to focus on the feeling of Eddie’s fingers scissoring him open, the feeling of Eddie’s tongue teasing at his entrance, the hot, tight sensation pooling at the base of his spine. 

“That's it, baby,” Eddie praises, and adds another finger. Steve gasps, eyes snapping open. 

“Mrrrow,” says Gandalf, inches from his face. 

“Eddie,” Steve whines. 

Eddie sighs, forehead thunking against the mattress. 

“Alright,” he relents, shuffling off the bed and scooping the confused kitten up in his arms. “C'mon, Mitt-randir. You heard your mom, time for you to go.” 

Steve leans against the headboard, gathering the sheets around himself, and watches how Eddie gently deposits Gandalf outside the door. 

“You know,” he says, once it has clicked shut and Eddie has joined him again. Eddie lifts one arm and Steve eagerly slots into the space. “I've been thinking. Maybe we should get a second cat.” 

“What, really?” Eddie chuckles, kissing the top of his head. “Says the guy who didn't even wanna get this one? What're you hoping to achieve, get double cock-blocked?” 

“Shut up, he's grown on me,” Steve grouses. “And maybe … I dunno, I thought that, if he had a friend, he'd be less bored.” 

Eddie gives a thoughtful hum. 

“Sound reasoning, good sir,” he then admits. “I can talk to Wayne, if you wanna. Someone at the trailer park is bound to have kittens at this time of year.” 

“Cool,” Steve says, tracing the black lines of Eddie’s tattoos with his fingers. “Can I name this one? Since it was my idea and all?”

Eddie sighs, burying his face in Steve’s hair. “That's fair, I guess. What noble name do you have in mind for Gandalf's future companion? Socks? Whiskers? Mr Tiddles?” 

“Nah,” Steve smiles. “It thought it would be cool if we got a little brown tabby. Name him Radagast.” 

Eddie goes still. He goes so still, Steve’s afraid he's somehow fallen asleep mid-conversation. Then, he sits up. His eyes are large and bright in the dark room.

“What did you just say?” 

Steve's smile widens. 

“I said-” he starts, but that's as far as he gets before Eddie grabs his face in both hands and crashes their lips together. 

“I love you,” Eddie says when they finally part for breath, leaning their foreheads together, fingers playing with the hair at the base of Steve’s neck. “Have I told you that?” 

“Well,” Steve hums in mock-thought, pulling him in for a brief, open-mouthed kiss before he begins to guide him down towards his spread thighs. “I believe you were about to show me.”