#because I don’t want anyone in his tag think I’m trying to ruin their fun

[anywhore]

I love ikemen prince but there’s that one suitor when he shows up I get irrationally angry and just speed click through it until he’s gone.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Tear You Apart Prequel✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: The prequel is finally here! It came to me out of nowhere today while I was listening to “Wait” by Knuckle Puck on a loop. Now that, my friends, is the power of music. I love this little series so much, and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written! I love getting into the pit of Joel’s grief and showing that underneath all the hardness is just a soft man that wants someone to understand him 🥹 He deserves all the love.

Pairing: Outbreak! Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Word Count: 2.3k

Chapter Summary: This is where it all began, the first time you ever met Joel. He’s mean, rough around the edges, but you see through him. You feel his grief as much as you feel your own.

Chapter Tags: Outbreak au, Joel captures reader, dark! Joel, tender moments, grief, angst, tension, Joel needs a big hug

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

 The sharp rope scratches at your skin as you try to free your bondaged wrists from behind your back. You rock against the wooden chair and grit your teeth together as you bite back the urge to scream. It’d be no use. You’re under his watch, under his control, under his eyes. Those dark black pits that are filled with nothing but regret that devours his eyes, feeds on his soul like a pit of ash and nightmares. A monster that devours anything he can control, anything he can get his calloused fingers on. 

   He wants control, he thinks he has it, but that’s not the case. Not exactly. Because control is a weakness. He’s just a man that’s ruined from a dark world who has nothing left but his own misery to spread to anyone he can claw his jagged nails into. He wants others to feel exactly how he feels. Grief can do that, can change a man into a blood sucking monster. And that’s exactly what he is, the worst kind of them. Vengeful, disconnected, full of regret, used. Just like you are. 

   You watch him stalk around you, circling you like a vulture as he glides his calloused fingers over your skin. You see the way he moves. Slow, concentrated, shoulders hunched as the green flannel clings to his broad chest. Dangerous, dark, unkind. That’s all he shows, all he knows. 

   “Let me go,” you demand as you scrape your skin against the rough bindings and hiss when you feel blood against your wrists. 

   He clicks his tongue and ends right in front of you as he picks up a piece of your hair. “I don’t think so,” he chuckles darkly as he continues circling slowly. “You gonna tell me what you were doin’ outside my house in the middle of the night? Tryin’ to steal somethin’ from me, hmm?” 

   “No, I wasn’t stealing anything…”

   “Liar!” His voice is blaring, echoing through the tiny basement that’s dark and filled with cold cement walls. Only a little light shines in the center of the room. Just enough to see the scowl that’s stretched across his angry face. 

   “I’m not lying, if you’d only just listen to me!” You fight back, your face burning fiery red as you try to pull free of your bindings again, but it’s no use. You’re stuck.  

   “I don’t listen to filthy little liars, sweetheart. Should’ve never come around these parts of the woods. It’ll only get you hurt,” he grins as dark eyes fill the dim room. 

   He slowly slides his fingers down your arm like a sly snake as you feel the bristles of callouses catch against your glistening skin. His skin is warm, burning into yours as you feel the fingerprints imprint into your forearm. He kneels down in between your legs as he rests one hand on your thigh, slowly opening the other as he settles between your legs. And then he looks up at you. That same unattached stare that belongs to the skin of a lone wolf. 

   “So, jus’ what am I gonna do with you, hmm?” he asks as he glides his fingers over your dark denim jeans. “Maybe paint the inside of your thighs white? Maybe sit you on my lap and have a little fun with you? Maybe…”

   You shut him up as you inhale and spit into his face as a glob of your saliva lands in one of his eyes. You see him flare his nostrils as he wipes the spit off with his flannel sleeve and starts chuckling under his breath. “Oh, I like a little fight in a girl. Kinda turns me on more.”

   Before you can react, he shoots up and grabs the back of your hair as he pulls hard and forces your eyes up. You grimace in pain as he pulls tighter. You look anywhere but at his eyes, so you just stare at his worn leather boots. 

   “Look at me,” he demands with gritted teeth as you feel his hot breath blow against the side of your neck. You turn your face and shake your head as you refuse to follow his strict orders. 

   He pulls tighter against your hair as you cringe and feel a cold teardrop lick at the corner of your eye. You can’t give in, can’t give in to him. You hear him growl loudly as he pulls and snarls a harsh order at you, “LOOK AT ME.”

   You feel the tear run down your cheek as you carefully move your eyes to look at him, your eyebrows knit together in frustration as you stare coldly at the man that holds you captive. His nostrils flare, dark eyes burning into yours as you take a real good look at him for the very first time. 

   He’s so run down looking, tired, just like the broken watch that sits clasped around his left wrist. The hard lines paint maps across his wrinkled forehead, an old scar sits burning across the top of his right eye, his salt-and-pepper scruff is rugged looking as some of his thick, tousled strands of hair fall down into his dark eyes. His green flannel is worn, just like his dust covered boots weighing him down to the ground. And his eyes. There’s sadness, remorse, regret lying in those chocolate eyes. Eyes that beg for someone to take him out of his misery. Eyes that plead for goodness but are weighed down by the hardness of the sick world. Eyes that beg someone to feel everything he does. Eyes that scream for help. 

   He keeps a tight hold of you, fingers still locked around your hair as he pins you in place, the weight of his body sinking against yours as you feel the roughness of his beard slide against the side of your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you speak. “It’s all about control with you, isn’t it? You want someone to control because you can’t control what’s going on around you in this apocalyptic world. You want someone to blame, someone to use to take your own misery out on. Is that right?” 

   His dark pupils expand as he snarls against your face, his fingers gripping harder as your head snaps up and pain radiates through your skull. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ ‘bout, sweetheart. Better watch your mouth,” he growls as pain shoots down your neck.

   You see the glisten of the broken glass on his watch, wonder why he wears a broken watch in the first place. It hits you like a hurricane crashing against a weak structure, spiraling your insides as if you feel his pain radiate down your body. He lost something dear to him, went through waves of pain you can only imagine. Just like you lost everything in your life. 

   He grabs another handful of hair until you shout into his weathered face. “I know what it’s like to lose something! You’ve lost someone, haven’t you?”

   His snarl lessens as his narrowed eyes relax, his grip on you growing lighter as he breathes in steady breathes. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he bites back as you see pain as clear as day in his distant eyes. The dark flecks floating around like pieces of the past as loss is etched in shades of dark brown throughout his irises.

   “That’s why you do this, isn’t it? You need the control, need to feel something other than the loss you carry. Need someone to fasten yourself to as you let the pain slip from your fingers so you can pour it out to strangers so they can feel that bit of pain you carry every single day.”

   His eyes widen, his breath hitching as the weight of your words crashes over him. A realization taking form as his jaw ticks and his thick fingers run down to the edge of your hair. There’s no more pulling, just the mere brush of his fingertips against your thick hair. 

   “You want to do something to me? Fine, do your worst. But at the end of the day, it’s you that chooses to be a monster. You are the one in control.”

   His eyes grow large as his breathing goes shallow. He drops the grip on your hair and stands abruptly as he paces the floor while raking a large hand through his scruff. He looks conflicted, torn up, ruined as he paces and paces the cement floor. 

   His body stills as he turns and looks at you, his eyes full of regret and sadness as the glint of tears wash over his deep brown eyes. He flexes his hand into a tight fist and clenches his jaw as he huffs out frustrated and grabs a sharp knife from the corner of the room. You freeze up until you realize he’s cutting your bindings free as the tattered rope falls to the floor. 

   “Go on. Get out of here. Leave,” he growls as he nods his head toward the rusty stairs and gives your shoulder a slight push.

   “But I…”

   “LEAVE!”

   You stumble over to the staircase and start to move, but after the first rusty creak of the stair you can’t help but to look back at the man that burns with pain. You see him pacing back and forth slowly, his face is so tormented. You almost feel bad for him. Almost. 

   You cautiously step back off the stairs and slowly walk over to him as you shakily reach out a hand. You see his tense shoulders, his lowered head as he holds his hands over his face. That’s when you feel it. The sheer grief that plagues him night after night. You feel it burning deep in your soul as you stare at his weathered features. He’s so lost, scared. 

   You ever so slowly lift a hand and place it softly over the back of his shoulder, holding your breath as you’re sure he’ll knock you down to the floor. He turns sharply your way, and that’s when you see the glisten of tears in his eyes, a shade of dark blue that covers his entire being. Wrecked. He’s so wrecked. 

   “I see you. You’re not as alone as you think you are,” you whisper as you let your hand linger timidly on his broad shoulder for just a few more seconds. He stares at it, conflicted features running over his worn face and then slowly turns toward you, eyes the color of chestnut brown. He flinches when you finally drop your hand to your side and step back out of his reach. 

   His lip quivers, jaw clenching as tight as a fist as he stares at you with big chocolate eyes that glisten with held back tears. You know this pain, the unbearable agony of losing someone so close as they slip through your fingers and never return to the light of day. You know he’s hurting. You know.

   You think of running your fingers over his patchy scruff but quickly talk yourself out of it, afraid he might snap at you again. One more look at dark eyes and you’re backing up, turning back to the staircase as you start to tread up heavy steps. 

   You hear him take a step toward you, hear his leather boots scuff against the hard ground as you look down and see the man with burning eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he might ask you to stay, but he stays silent. So you go, flee up the stairs, back to a semblance of peace.

   Before you turn the old brass doorknob, you look back and find him looking in awe at you, his breathing ragged and his mouth parted open with bloodshot eyes. Eyes that beg you to stay. 

   “You know, you’re not really the monster you think you are.” His jaw goes slack, his arms heavy at his sides as he stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch, he just stares. Weepy eyes that cry out for just one soul to listen. You hear him though. You hear him.

   You grip your raw, torn up wrists and feel the pain simmer down to your bones. This is the pain he must feel, too. The pain you might just understand. Maybe that’s why you almost stay, almost turn and reach for him again like you could take his pain away. But you don’t. At least not this time.

   Before you overstay your welcome, you turn the cold doorknob and push past the opening as you flee the house that holds pain and regret. You slip your way outside and disappear into the thick trees, leaving just enough traces of footsteps for him to find you again. 

   This wasn’t the end. No. This was the very beginning, a beautiful cycle that’d keep spinning, a whirlwind of you and Joel. The moment everything changed. He claimed you from the beginning, the very minute he let you out of those ropes. It wasn’t over. 

   He’d find you again, hunt you down till he got his hands on you again. A little lamb that would feed the hungry wolf. A lone wolf that needed to feel again. And you were it. The undoing to his starving form. For he was just a man who longed to rid himself of all the suffering and pain he experienced day after day. You were exactly what he needed. It was you. So he’d follow you through the trees, track you down till he could taste nothing but you. You were the little lamb he desired, craved. And god, did he need you. He needed you…

Tagging some of you that read part 1 🩷 @janaispunk @amyispxnk @mountainsandmayhem @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @keylimebeag @untamedheart81 @bbyanarchist @bishtrouille @vividispunk @vivian-pascal @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @pedrostories @docharleythegeekqueen @rav3n-pascal22 @my-favorite-reading @silk-spun @fanfictilltheend @tuquoquebrute @beardedjoel @msjarvis @syd-djarin

If you liked this, consider reblogging or sending me an ask 💕

[imfinereallyy]

@henderdads posted this about domestic fluff and I realize that I love this trope and I just don’t write enough of it, and I wanted to give her a little treat to read. Mostly because her tags when she reblogs on my post give me absolute joy, I laugh every time.

Two things might come as a surprise when getting to know Steve Harrington. The first being he didn’t actually like parties. He likes making other people feel good, wants to make them happy. Hence why for years, he lets Tommy and Carol wreak havoc on his house. It makes them happy and, for a short while, makes most of Hawkins High happy. Steve, in retrospect, has learned to regret this since he has now gained a reputation for being a party king, despite not throwing one in years, but he knows all too well how hard it is to let go of a high school reputation.

The second surprising fact is that Steve Harrington hated his birthday. Well, maybe hate wasn’t the right word, but he has incredibly low expectations for his birthday. Either everyone forgets his birthday, or somehow Steve is reminded that he is an inconvenience.

“Sorry sweetie, your dad has a business meeting that day.”

“Dude, I have a baseball game in that night could we do something another day?”

“I’m late! I know, we stayed up all night playing D&D. I even forgot to call Suzie!”

Steve isn’t necessarily hurt per se when these things happen. He knows that some people, more than others, are really trying. That it’s human to make mistakes. But Steve doesn’t like to get his hopes up; that’ll be much better than that.

There is also the more commonly now known fact that Steve doesn’t like being the center of attention. And birthdays come along with a lot of that. Sure, Steve wants someone to pay attention to him, really listen to what he has to say, but he has long since out grown the desperate need to have everyone look at him.

It is why it is such a surprise the upside down crew throws him a 24th birthday party.

Steve always thought something like this would upset him, but he is delightfully warm at the sight of all his friends, all of his family, inside Robin and Nancy's apartment screaming,

“Surprise, Dingus!”

Steve can’t believe she got everyone to say that.

After the shock of seeing them all packed like sardines wearing party hats, Steve can’t help but smile.

Eddie walks up to him, placing a hat on his head and a soft kiss on his cheek. “I tried to stop them,” Eddie whispers. “I know you don’t like parties, but they just wanted to show how much they love you. It was hard to say no.”

Steve turns to Eddie, a man who knows him inside and out and knows he can’t lie to him. “I thought I would hate this, but I don’t. It’s perfect.” He kisses Eddie on the lips, just as soft as the one before.

“Good, because I really didn’t try to stop them.” Eddie smiles into the kiss.

“Ew!”

“Gross!”

“Get a room!”

Various shouts across the room cause the couple to giggle and pull apart. Eddie flips them all off, “It’s been four years, assholes! Grow up.”

Eddie runs off to particularly chase Mike, who actually hasn’t said anything but did make a face, and Steve can’t help but be overwhelmed by joy.

🎉🦇🎉🦇

Hours later, after the cake has been cut and the presents have been shared, and his kiddos are definitely way too drunk, the party doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. And Steve, who is having fun but growing antsy since he slowed down on drinking years ago, isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He doesn’t want to ruin the fun or make anyone think he didn’t have a good time. This is one of the best birthdays, if not the best one, he’s ever had. But Steve is getting overwhelmed and worn out. He isn’t really tired, but being social has reached its capacity for the night.

Even so, he can’t help but laugh at Robin as she tells a story about the most recent disaster of her sign language class, where kids keep accidentally swearing instead of the proper words.

Eddie catches his eye across the room; he looks happy as he talks to Hop and Wayne. But even mid-conversation, across the sea of people, he tugs his helix piercing over his right ear twice.

It’s their signal for, “Do you want me to come over?”

Steve rubs the scar over his left eye twice, “Yes please.” It means.

Eddie excuses himself and makes his way to Steve. “Hey, baby.” He interrupts Robin mid-rant, who makes a sound of drunken protest. “Did we feed Mrs. Pierson’s cat today?”

Another signal, which translates, “Do you want to go home?”

And Steve knows he can just tell Eddie yes, and they can stay at the party, and Steve will have fun, and he’ll be happy, but it isn’t what he wants. What he wants is to be at home with their own cat Beelzebub, snuggled up in their bed. So Steve says, “Shit, I don’t think we did.” Yes, please. Let’s go home.

Eddie acts quickly. They make their rounds, say goodbyes, and make their excuses. Everyone lovingly pokes at their forgetfulness. The couple insists everyone stays and enjoys themselves. Steve thanks everyone with individual hugs.

Steve and Eddie hold pinkies the entire walk home, down the streets of Indianapolis. The dark night blanket of night, and the never-ending sound of the city, keeping them safe enough to risk the intertwined digits.

When they make it home, they say nothing. They unwind slowly. Sharing kisses, delicately take off each other's clothes, hum into each others mouths. There is nothing rushed, or rough; they have time now. There will be moments for that later.

And in their journey from the front door to the bed, Eddie kisses the place where Steve’s shoulder and neck meet. It’s his signal for “I love you.”

Later, when they are tangled up in the sheets, heavy breaths slowing down, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, Steve leans up and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. It’s his signal for “I love you more.”

Eddie’s smile back says, “that just isn’t possible.”

“Thank you for today.” Steve finally speaks out loud, playing with Eddie’s fingers.

“Oh, it isn’t over yet, baby.” And Eddie jumps out of bed naked, running out of the room.

Steve can’t help but cackle at his boyfriend's antics. There is a sudden thump on the bed; Steve peeks down to see their cat making his home on the end of their bed like he knows they are finally done for the night. “Hey, bee.” Steve scratches him behind his ear, earning a resounding purr from him. A little to the left, it means.

Eddie comes back into the room and dives back into the bed, bouncing Beelzebub but not startlingly him enough to move. Steve supposes he’s used to his father's antics. “Okay, I would tell you to close your eyes, but I know you’re not going to listen, so I’m just going to hand them to you.”

Steve giggles and grabs the pieces of paper in his hands and his heart stops. “Eddie.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s grin is wide.

“These are three tickets to see Madonna.”

“Yup.” Eddie pops his ‘p’ clearly proud of himself. “One for you, one for Robs of course, and one for me.”

Steve whispers in awe, “But you hate Madonna.”

Eddie brushes the hair out of Steve’s face, “Please, no one can hate Madonna.” Eddie’s eyes turn soft, “Besides, you love her, and you love me. It only felt fair to have us both in the same place. And you’d worry the entire time if I wasn’t there.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie, squeezing him tight. Hoping he can translate how much he loves this man through it. Steve loves making other people happy, but no one has loved making Steve happy, quite like Eddie. “I love you so much,” Steve says once he leans back.

Eddie kisses the place where his shoulder and his neck meet. I love you. Eddie kisses the tip of his nose. I love you more. Finally, he holds Steve’s face and says aloud,

“I love you too.”

***

Was this perhaps inspired by the fact I turn 24 in a week and a half? Maybeee. I’m a lot like Steve in this where I have such mixed feelings about my birthday. I’m feeling a lot of anxiety about it if I’m honest, and I don’t have high hopes.

Unlike me, I don’t have a partner like Eddie, but Steve deserves the world and I wanted him to have some loving and domestic fluff. The idea that these two have secret signals is an important headcannon to me, and I would love to see others take on it.

I hope @henderdads you enjoyed this if you made it this far. It was a lot of fun to write. :)

[jhugas]

‘I ONLY NEED YOU’- Jeon Jungkook

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Jungkook X 8th member! Reader

Summary: Jungkook is scared of the moment you’ll get a boyfriend, he doesn’t want anyone to take his place and he tells you about it.

Word count: ~1k

Warnings/tags: Jungkook is head over heels for her, kissing, in the anecdote in the beginning: INNOCENT kisses as minors (16yo; first kiss; not sexual nor romantic nor detailed).

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

It was such a long time Jungkook and you were friends, around 13 years now, and ever since the day he met you, he never stopped protecting you and being sort of possessive.

The members asked him many times if he was sure he didn’t have any feelings for you, but he always denied it, even though he was always head over heels for you.

You remember that once, in a competition, Jungkook felt down and unmotivated, and after thinking with the member how could you motivate him, you decided to tell him that if he won the race, he’d win a kiss from you.

And this kiss will forever be in your hearts, because it was for both of you, your first kiss, you were only 16. It happened in the lockers, after asking the members to leave. And let’s say, you honestly didn’t expect kisses to be so comforting.

His lips were soft, innocent, and hesitant even though he tried to seem confident. And the moment you pulled away and just stared at each other, shyly smiling felt unreal.

Growing up, you used to sometimes, kiss in secret, but Namjoon thought it was a bad idea. He knew what you were doing, and as much as he wanted to let you two have fun like normal teens, he was scared of how this will grow in time and its consequences on the group work.

So you both had to stop around 18 years old.

They were always cute, little and innocents kisses you used to give to each other when you were happy, and you remember telling each other:

‘who said kisses were romantic? Kisses aren’t only for couples!’

And since, every time you were together, there was a tension. You both knew you wanted to kiss and stay with each other, but what if it ruined your career?

Moreover, Jungkook was already possessive and jealous enough like that, so if you started kissing or dating again… he might get jealous of his friends for staying with you, and ruining his friendships.

So in those moments where you wanted to kiss, just simply push your lips against each other, you usually just sat on his lap, facing him and looking at his perfect face.

It could be awkward, but it wasn’t. Then, you just rest your head on his shoulder while he passed his fingers in your hair, and sang to you, just like when you were younger, he read you stories to sleep.

And right now, this was the situation. You’re on his lap, resting your head in the crook of his neck while he plays with your hair and sings to you. When suddenly, you hear him sigh.

‘Mhh? What’s wrong?’

You whisper to him.

‘Nothing… don’t worry.’

He replied, but his voice sounded sad.

‘You know you can tell me everything… right?’

You tell him, trying to get him to talk to you one more time.

‘It’s just… I’m kind of scared of the future…’

He answered after taking a deep breath.

‘The future? What do you mean?’

‘I mean y/n, can you imagine? One day you’ll be married. Married! And guess what, I’m going to be there, watching you two flirt, then start dating, having your ‘first kiss’ and first time, then marrying each other and having kids. I just don’t want to see this. But it has to happen, right?’

He finally said as you face to him.

‘I… no, it doesn’t have to happen, why?’

‘Because I wanna stay with you, and I might be selfish but I want you just to myself, and no one else. There’s a guy out here, that’s going to take my place, and you’re going to love him more than me. I just don’t want to see this.’

‘But, you’re going to start dating too, not just me! One day you’ll have a girlfriend that you’ll marry too!’

‘No, I won’t.’

‘Oh?’

‘Because I only need you and no one else. I only care about you. I don’t care about the whole world hating me if I have you on my side. You’re all I care about, I don’t need anyone else!’

‘You’re just saying this, but in a few years, you might already get married.’

‘With no one yeah! Never!’

‘I can’t be the only one for you… you’ll find someone else, and you’ll see, you’ll probably love her more than me.’

You say, but he frowns his eyebrows and stay like this in silence, looking deep in your eyes. When suddenly, he got closer to you, until his face got just in front of yours.

‘I said, I only, need, you.’

Then a silence settles in, realizing how close you are. It’s so tempting to kiss him, his pink, soft lips with a piercing are begging to be kissed, loved. And you’d like to ask him if you can kiss each other again, or maybe just one last time, but maybe he wasn’t into this anymore… maybe he’d find it odd…

But it’s almost impossible to back up, it’s like your body is moving on its own, your hands leave his shoulders to cup his face, and you look at him one more time.

Again, it could be awkward, but it wasn’t. You catch him looking at your lips, before looking deep into your eyes like he’s asking for permission for something.

You get closer to initiate the move and he immediately pushed his lips against yours, kissing you passionately and slowly. Your lips complementing each other like a puzzle, it’s like he’s the only person that could kiss you like that, that can make you feel so good.

Naturally, your lips start moving along and his hands move from your hips to your back repeatedly, caressing you.

It’s night and there isn’t a single sound bothering you two, the only sound that can be heard is the one of your lips, breaths and your hands exploring each other through the clothes.

It was so pleasing to finally kiss him again after all of those years, this was something you both really needed.

Then, the night went on and finished up by you two cuddling cutely on his bed (with pillows), and the morning started by him bringing breakfast to you, on his bed.

What do you think?

Did he or will he realize his feelings for you?

Will he confess?

Talk about the kiss or just act like nothing happened?

Thank you for reading! Likes are veryyyyy appreciated but reblogs and comments actually help the writers get more exposure. Thank you!

Masterlist

[oneforthemunny]

munny's one-derful year

to celebrate my one year on tumblr (january eighth, to be exact), i have decided to open up a little writing prompt. some of my favorite lores, asks, and others for anyone to participate in <3 thank you all so much for your love and following me around onto three blogs lol!!! i love you all so much!! 

rules: must tag #munnysonederful and @oneforthemunny to each entry so i can read and reblog ofc. unlimited entries, and i will be reblogging and making a masterlist on my own page so everyone can read/find the works :)  can be blurbs, full works, headcanons, honestly anything you want! 

prompts: 

rockstar!eddie and nepo baby!reader’s favorite hate fucking moment. where does it happen? why does it happen? are they just playing, or did one prompt the other? What happens ;)? get as smutty and gross as you want to babes, no one here will complain lol. 

based off the lore that older!eddie gets slutty on teqila lol. gimme tequila eddie. make it slutty. the og prompt was at the beach for a wedding of a cousin, if you’d like to follow that, but if not- where does it happen? how do you think it would go? don’t spare a single detail please!!!!

modern!eddie and his lil mean girl’s first date, like official date. i get a lot of questions on this and i honestly want to know what you guys think! what’s it like? where do they go? any awkward moments? what’s the convo like? does he try to over impress or play it like he’s too cool? have fun with it! 

ofc i would never deny anyone here a chance to write about our beloved mafia!eddie and the dogs lol. vecna, diablo, lucifer, and zeus (and beelzebub if you want to add him). i love anything with the dogs, specifically with them being spoiled, so spoil me for a moment and write about them! eddie’s bitching because they’re “guard dogs!!! they’re trained to kill!!!” and you’ve got them totally spoiled, so tell me about it. how would you spoil them? 

janitor!eddie deserves the world, so give it to him. give me something with spoiling him. why are you doing it (birthday, valentine’s day, hard week)? how are you doing it? is it planned or a surprise or impromptu? and of course, how does he react? could be angsty, fluffy, smutty if you’re feeling it. just show him some love. 

cowboy!eddie and sweet girl’s animals. i gotta know about them. there’s three parts of lore here: the cow, the chickens, and the goats. take your pick or choose all of them. make it your own, or me, personally, i want to know how they came to be? how did that conversation of convincing eddie to get them go? expectations vs reality? have fun with it, be silly with it. 

the horny hours convo we had (in april??? maybe lol) with dom!eddie was quite possibly the most successful and most interacted horny hours we’ve ever had. so with that being said, i’m opening up the prompts to be rewritten in your version. so there was three big ones: “don’t make me pull this car over” aka car troubles, “go pick a switch” aka switching it up, and the bath brush aka dripping down. rewrite it, make it your own, make new drama, if you’re not a brat make it non-bratty lol, make it slutty is all i ask. 

bouncer!eddie being a switch really shook everyone up and i loved it, so i want whatever version of him you want to write. him being subby, him being dominant, him just being him and being a little flirty and silly and slutty and the love of my life. expand on the walk in blurb if you need inspo, or what happened after a night where you or him got jealous from someone flirting at the hideout. 

funson’s freebies: 

in honor of my og blog (funsonmunson, gone but not forgotten) these are freebie plots for any of my au’s <3

give me an angsty breakup fic. why did they break up? who broke up with who? make me cry, ruin my day- or take mercy on us and give us a happy ending, up to you. 

self care nights. what do they do? is it a night in? a night out? is eddie taking care of you, or you taking care of him, or a little bit of both? what’s going on, just let me feel all gooey and lovey inside!!! 

i always get birthday requests, and technically it’s my tumblr birthday, so what do the eddies do for your birthday? where do they take you? what’s the cake situation? surprise party, planned party, no party? night in or out? presents? birthday sex? truly whatever you picture!

another highly requested, is a wedding. i love weddings and my guilty pleasure is wedding fics idk why, so give me that. you can follow the lore if they have it, or do whatever you want! proposal, ceremony, honeymoon- honestly whichever you want! where does it happen? what’s the details? who’s there? if you put vows i’m gonna sob so just fyi on that. 

finally, i have to give it up for the domestic babes. give me something soul crushingly domestic. dog!dad eddie, dad!eddie, pregnancy one, newborn, child- i don’t care. i want to feel motherly in this bitch after i read it. 

[fevers-and-emeto-oh-my]

Because disastrously sick men wearing suits is one of my favorite things, and stranger caretakers is another one of my favorite things, have this scenario:

Character A is attending a meeting for a department on a different floor of the building he works in. It’s a sizable company, so it’s not possible to know everyone. Once the meeting is over/breaks for lunch, A stops in one of the bathrooms to take a piss, wash his hands, freshen up a bit. The bathroom is silent and A is positive he’s the only one there as he relieves himself and then washes his hands and messes with his hair in the mirror.

Then there’s an absolutely ear-splitting retch, the kind that sounds like it’s been pulled right out of the pit of your guts and grates your throat in a way that’s sure to make it sore later. A freezes, staring at himself in the mirror for a minute as he tries to decide what to do.

Then there’s a second equally-rough retch, a heavy splattering of liquid against liquid, and a very sick-sounding belch. A turns around to find that the farthest stall door is shut, and when he steps closer he can see the soles of dress shoes and the ankles of gray slacks of whoever’s kneeling on the floor.

“Are you...alright?” A asks hesitantly. He has no idea who it is that’s hurling--it could be anyone from the meeting he was just in, or it could be someone from elsewhere on the floor or the building.

There’s a burp and a short splash in response, and then Character B clears his throat. “Fine. Got it handled.”

The terse tone of his voice is ruined by how hoarse and thready it is, underscored by panting breaths and a grating gag. A doesn’t recognize the voice. He’s hovering near the stall, not quite sure if he should say anything else, when there’s the sound of B blowing his nose and the toilet flushing, and then the door swings open and they come face to face with one another.

A and B both recognize each other just from seeing one another around the building during work, but they don’t know each other’s names. A can’t help wincing, because B looks terrible. There’s a ring of sweat around the collar of his dress shirt, and his tie and jacket are both askew. His face is ashen pale, covered in a clammy sheen, and his eyes are the glossy bright of a fever. He’s glaring at A like his life depends on it, but it’s undermined by his visible trembling.

“Can I help you?” B asks with a voice that sounds totally wrecked by stomach acid.

A feels his ears go red, but his voice gets caught for a minute, taken aback by B’s surly attitude. “You sound rough. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to keel over.”

“I don’t know you,” B says shortly, heading for the sinks and washing his hands as if nothing’s happened. “The concern is appreciated, but not necessary.”

A can’t help but scoff at that. B somehow has gotten even paler, holding onto the sides of the sink with both hands and bowing his head. 

“You must be fun to work with if you have this much of a stick up your ass even when sick,” A comments. “I was just trying-”

A cuts himself off with a yelp, because B’s knees seem to buckle. A grabs him under the shoulders, but B’s head lolls and to A’s utter horror and dismay, he passes out completely and his dead weight nearly topples them both to the floor.

B’s out for less than a minute, coming around with a groan, head rolling against A’s shoulder. He bats A’s hands away, and they scowl at each other.

Does A drive B home himself, after finding out from his boss where he lives? Does he take B back to his own office, or to A’s to rest a little? Does B give up the attitude for long enough to let A be helpful?

I do also like thinking about this scenario in a scat or both ends scenario, but I’m not sure what the climate is on that so decided to just do the emeto for now XDD 

(PS. If you write something using this, tag me not even for credit but just because I’d be dying to read it XD.)

[altocat]

I wouldn’t put this in the tag, but why do certain people in this fandom get so mad when Seph gets any form of humanization so much?? Keeping a bunch of his background a mystery is a reasonable request absolutely, but why is it so bad to see him emote and have connections and deal with shit before his downfall?

Why is it so bad to add to the subtle and delicate writing that surrounds his “fallen angel” arc? I mean, do people want a smirky, one-dimensional villain forever? (Not that he ever was one-dimensional anyway but apparently some think he was).

No villain should just be evil for no reason, and if we want their reasons to be a little mysterious, that is entirely able to be done without stripping them of their emotions or tragedy. Everyone’s favorite villains have carefully crafted downfalls and often there is tragedy and misunderstanding involved.

Seph is an absolutely iconic villain and deserves more of this treatment. He is frankly, overdue for some humanization that isn’t bound to the limits of an older game like Crisis Core that often suffered from a lack of deeper exposition or elaboration. He’s earned it after being a terrifying, mysterious villain for so long.

Just a touch of it doesn’t ruin anything. The writers seem to be treating it with care and delicacy so far, which is good. That’s what we need.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. Twitter is getting on my nerves because people are saying things like “He better just stay crazy and enjoy burning shit for no reason.” and accusing people that disagree of “not actually being a true fan of the character.” (As if Crisis Core didn’t already make him more sympathetic!!)

(I’m also not using his full name so that this doesn’t show up in anyone’s search results if you don’t want to draw any contention. Cheers).

Pure evil villains are boring, unless it's full camp or they're having fun and it's delicious to watch.

I think people aren't paying attention to context. This isn't CURRENT Sephiroth, this is Sephiroth as a child. If he was always evil and always sadistic, it would take away a lot of the message the original game was trying to convey with him--Sephiroth is the product of SHINRA, the product of immoral ethics, war, and greed. Sephiroth was a normal baby given abnormal enhancement, shoved into extremely traumatic rules and expectations, and subsequently loses everything that ever made him human in a mad quest for revenge and control. To say Sephiroth was evil from the moment he was born is a HUGE disservice to his character, and his story as a whole. Sephiroth is a monster. But he is the monster Shinra created.

Now do I think Sephiroth should be redeemed? No, probably not. It's not about his journey back into the light, it's about his descent into darkness. That's what makes his character interesting. For the record, I don't want them to woobie him either. Part of the reason I find those Disney Remakes insufferable is how they take fun villains (Cruella, Maleficent) and try to make them all weepy and sympathetic. THOSE are villains where being pure evil works. It's entertaining. Their evilness is infectious. They're chewing the scenery and it's great. They're nasty little shits and they ENJOY it and they're cartoony enough to where you don't have to take it seriously. Sephiroth is a completely different beast, with an actual message to his story.

I've always found serious pure-evil villains completely uninteresting because there's no layers to them. No pathos. No depth. Part of having a good villain is looking into their eyes and seeing something of yourself in there. YOU could be that. YOU could become that. These are moral lessons for adults as they try to navigate a confusing and unfriendly world. You shouldn't turn into this because, in the end, succumbing to anger and hate ISN'T good. It ISN'T healthy. And these villains, at the end of the day, are extremely unhappy people who bring about their own destruction. You lose that when they're just a smirking sadistic killing machine. It's an empty husk that just exists for the heroes to defeat. I'd like to think that Sephiroth is more than that, and has always been more than that.

Anyway, rant over. Twitter is dumb, hence why I'm not on it. I'll agree with them if the Remake Trilogy attempts at a redemption arc and it's clumsy and unjustified. But this? A tragic Seph backstory was always a given when you look at the lore. So long as they go about it in a balanced morally gray way, it fits very well with his character.

[tameodesza]

Haunts of Horrors (BretShawn)

AO3 link | masterlist

Summary: Bret takes Shawn to a spooky attraction for spooky season.

a/n: I went through a trail of terror this weekend, and it was quite the experience, lol! Inspired me to write this

Shawn sat in the passenger seat, palms sweating as Bret made a sharp left turn that led them closer to their destination.

The Haunts of Horrors.

For five years in a row, the haunted attraction was deemed one of the scariest haunted trails in all of Calgary. Owen asked Bret to tag along, also convincing him to bring Shawn as a date.

“Martha chickened out, so we have an extra ticket. Maybe you should bring Shawn.”

“You know Shawn hates scary shit.”

“Exactly! He’ll be stuck to you like glue all night. You can thank me later.”

That was all Bret needed to hear before trying to persuade his boyfriend to come.

Lucky for him, Shawn accepted thinking it would be a mild scary house filled with a few boo’s and jump scares. And with Owen’s 8-year-old son, Oje, also attending, it couldn’t be that bad, right?

But Shawn’s indifference soon melted into unease as they neared the attraction, Owen spending most of the car ride telling horror stories to get everyone into the spooky mood.

Oje surely enjoyed them, huddling close to his dad in the backseat as he enthusiastically asked for another story.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Shawn, the blond looking completely zoned out as he stared out the window.

“Stop it. You’re scaring Shawn,” Bret lightly chuckled to Owen.

“I’m fine, Bret,” Shawn said unconvincingly, not wanting to ruin Oje’s fun.

Bret turned down a dark wooded path, the only light coming from the car’s headlights and a neon sign that flashed: Welcome to the Haunts of Horrors. Enter if You Dare.

“Are you ready,” Bret asked Shawn, his own excitement evident in his voice.

“Uh huh,” Shawn answered in a quiver, his voice failing him as they pulled into the parking area.

After parking the car, Bret said calmingly, “Don’t be scared, babe.”

“I’m not.” He was.

“I promise you it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“How would you know?”

“Owen and I have been here tons of times. It’s not so bad.”

Shawn probed, “Was it really scary when you went?”

As Bret thought of a proper response, Owen blurted, “Oh, this place is intense! Bret, remember that kid who threw up that one time? And the time some guy passed out? Then there was the time someone had a code brown-”

“Owen,” Bret hissed, but it was too late.

Shawn listened in horror as Owen listed off all of the reasons why he should turn around, the blond whining, “Oh, no. I’m going to die.”

“No, you’re not,” Bret said as he grabbed Shawn’s hand before kissing the back of it. “Especially not with me around. I would never let anything or anyone harm you. You know that, right?”

It’s moments like this one that Shawn wished he wasn’t a sucker to Bret’s loving eyes because he would’ve saved himself of the fright that was coming later that night.

Shawn nodded, cheeks reddening as he remembered they weren’t alone, Owen and Oje watching from the backseat as if they were watching a movie.

-

Bret and Shawn walked hand-in-hand, Shawn’s nerves slightly settling as Owen and Oje led the way to the line.

However, his relief was short-lived as he stood in line overhearing multiple conversations of how scary the trail was. That combined with the screamo rock music blasting in the background only made Shawn more anxious.

His fear worsened after moving to a spot in the line that allowed him to see the end of the trail, his eyes landing on various people as they left looking either terrified, drained, or like they’d worked up a sweat. And he could’ve sworn he’d seen one person crying.

Shawn turned around in Bret’s arms, the older man having been pressed against his back with a hold on his waist in comfort. Shawn looked up at him as he whispered, “Is it too late to go back?”

Bret said gently, “We’ve already paid for the tickets, Shawn.”

“Um, I’ll pay you back?”  

Bret couldn’t help but chuckle at Shawn, reassuring, “You’re going to be fine. Just stay next to me, ok?”

Right as Shawn was in the midst of calming down, an actor, one of many who’d been walking up and down the line, chose that moment to come up behind Shawn and scream loudly near his ear.

The blond jumped in Bret’s arms, shouting, “Ah, shit!”

He turned his head to see an actor dressed in a bloody Michael Myers costume before looking away to bury his face into Bret’s chest, deepening into his burrow after hearing laughter from those nearby.  

Owen said in a wheezy laugh, “You should’ve seen your face, Shawn!”

Bret gave his brother a look to shut him up before asking Shawn, “Are you ok?”

Shawn lifted his head, an embarrassed smile on his lips as he said, “That scared the shit out of me.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

“Still scary,” Shawn said as Bret helped guide him further up the moving line. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Bret.”

Owen said enthusiastically, “Well, you better get ready because it’s going to be way worse on the in-. Never mind,” Owen cowered at the glare Bret was throwing him.

After a few more minutes in the line, their group was led to a wooden hut where a worker went over the rules.

“Thank you for choosing Haunts of Horrors as your scare destination. There’s just a few rules to go over. As you go through the haunt, there’s to be no running, shoving, or pushing. This is to ensure that you do not harm yourselves or others as this haunted attraction is located in the woods.”

“Got that, Oje? No running,” Owen whispered to his son who nodded obediently.

The worker further explained, “Please do not touch the actors. That includes hitting, shoving, or spitting. You will be escorted out if done so. They will not touch you unless you paid for the Extra Horror experience.”

Shawn asked Bret in a hush, “We didn’t pay for that right?”

Bret interlaced they’re fingers as he whispered, “I wouldn’t put you through that.”

The worker ended, “You are to keep moving at all times to avoid holding up the groups behind you. Any questions?”

Oh, Shawn had plenty, but to save himself the embarrassment, he decided not to ask.

-

Shawn soon learned he should have taken heed to Owen’s warnings as nothing could’ve prepared him for the terrifying experience.

The haunt only lasted about fifteen minutes but felt like hours as Bret led their group through multiple scary scenarios – dark rooms, jump scares, flashing neon lights, monsters in scary masks, scary music blasting through the speakers.

Shawn kept a tight hold onto Bret’s arm barely having time to catch his breath as he made his way through the trail, screaming in terror at whatever came his way.

There were many times where Bret had to pull Shawn back to stop him from running, the blond tripping over his feet multiple times that night as they ventured through the dimly lit obstacle.

Although they were promised that the actors wouldn’t touch them, the scary figures got alarmingly close, the horrifying voices of the actors filling Shawn’s ears.

There were also times where Bret had to force Shawn to keep moving, the blond freezing in fear not wanting to move forward.

“Come on, baby. We’ve got to keep going,” Bret coaxed as the blond stooped to the ground screaming with his hands covering his ears after seeing a bloodied man revving a chainsaw.

Shawn allowed Bret to help him stand as he asked breathlessly, “It’s still not over?”

Hearing Shawn’s question, the bloodied man answered instead in a grizzly voice, “Your horrors will never be over!” He cackled before revving the chainsaw again.

Needless to say, that was enough to get the blond moving on his feet.

While Shawn struggled to make it through every room in one piece, Owen, Bret, and Oje were having the time of their lives.

Though they were also spooked, every scream ended with a hearty laugh. They would sometimes even taunt the actors, saying “That’s all you got?” or “That wasn’t even that scary. You gotta try harder than that!”

Shawn thought they were all insane, the blond telling them to stop before they made the monsters angry.

By the time they finished the trail, Shawn was a sweaty mess, breathing heavily, and looking as if he’d aged a few years. He was so grateful that it was over.

“That was awesome, daddy! I wanna go again,” Oje exclaimed. 

“Me, too, bud! Maybe we should-”

 “No!” Shawn gave a horrified shriek at the thought.

Owen went to take his son to the restroom while Bret and Shawn headed back to the car. Bret threw an arm over Shawn as the blond pouted and crossed his arms in defiance.

Upon reaching the vehicle, Bret placed Shawn between the car and himself, kissing the blond’s pout before asking, “Why the long face?”

Shawn moped, “You said it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was! That was the most terrifying experience of my life and I never want to go through it again.”

Shawn meant for it to be lighthearted, but Bret truly worried that he’d ruined the blond’s night.

He asked doubtingly, “Did you at least have fun?”

Seeing Bret’s unsurety, Shawn sighed and smiled softly saying, “Yes, you crazy man.���

Maybe ‘fun’ was a bit of a stretch, but regardless of how scared he was, Shawn enjoyed having Bret by his side. Shawn would’ve understood if the man got frustrated with him at some point with his behavior throughout the night, but Bret remained calm and was so sweet to him.

If anything, the scary experience only made them closer.

“Really,” Bret asked, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“Mhmm,” Shawn said, unfolding his arms to wrap them around Bret’s neck. “It was scary, but I wouldn’t have wanted to go through it with anyone else. I love you.”

It came unexpectedly, but Bret was quick to respond, whispering back his own ‘I love you’ before pulling the man into a lasting kiss, neither caring who was watching.

The kiss was only broken when the couple heard Owen say as he approached, “Ew, get a room!”

And they did, the couple heading back to Bret’s house to kiss and cuddle all night trying to forget about the Haunts of Horrors.

[thrandilf]

I don’t know if you’re taking rec’s still but if you want some good authors? If not feel free to ignore/delete! (All these are on ao3 that site’s spoiled me I can’t go anywhere else)

Alienu has a lot of really good shadowpeach working on their relationship fics. It’s almost a gag how they never actually get to them kissing but dear GOD there’s that longing to. Maybe one day.

Marinara_Trench writes softer macaque/shadowpeach than some of these, but I like how they write everyone as Just a Guy trying their Best. They also gave me the headcanon that macaque collects the stupidest, cheesiest pieces of junk like wukong collects random treasures.

cloud_somersault really good at acknowledging the Monkies got Issues. I mean they got Mei and Redson in a fic or two but it’s mainly the three main monkeys dealing with shit.

poetoutofthebeast I guess the best way to describe their writing is that they take a concept and run with it and it’s a very enjoyable experience for me. Almost crack treated seriously but the scenarios make sense?

KinbariTeaHeathen just the best dynamics! Fun scenarios with fun character combinations!!

K’s writing anon I have no idea who this is but this tag has some of the funnest story ideas I have read for lmk. My two recommendations are ‘obelus’ where LBD thinks trying to possess macaque as a new body is a good idea, and ‘heavy is the heart that wears the crown’ where LBD gets the fillet and macaque takes. Perhaps the stupidest route to keep her from using it on anyone else?

magic, myths, and emotionally unstable monkeys (lmk fics) series not an author but it’s got some of my favorite wukong character studies in regards to shadowpeach

And a some good fics:

Temporary Touch Explicit, and has macaque burn FFM, but probably one of the most logical in how they’d get back together/heal/get together (that is to say that their problems come up naturally and they deal with them extremely in character (terribly) not that the characters are being smart about the situation they’ve got themselves into at All)

Collapse into me Macaque runs to the brotherhood while dying and Azure does a not smart thing! Not too far in the plot but the character dynamics sure are dynamic.

Swear it on the Sun the only thing that has given credence to the idea Peng had a thing for Mac, and it’s not even got Peng having feelings for Mac.

My sunflower is crying, I’m sorry hanahaki au where Mac has hanahaki and goes “well I’m gonna die, that sucks” and? Makes the most of it? He gets cured ofc but he gets annoyed his plan gets ruined. Ofc

The Broken Pleas of a Familiar Face (And an Exhausted Shadow) Macaque asks wukong to stay and help him take care of the mountain cause he’s struggling, and wukong’s y’know. On jttw. So it doesn’t go well.

meant to do a lil blurb under the fic recs but then I was on like 2% and didn't want to lose the whole thing but I hope you find some fics you like! 'We just "click"' was such a nice find for me and finding you on tumblr is v exciting! Ok have a nice day byee

Aaaaa thank you!

I meant to answer this way sooner and forgot I hadn't, I appreciate the list to go through!

I just read Temporary Touch (all in one sitting oops) and I absolutely love it, I ran into it in the wild on ao3 and the name sounded familiar, glad I gave it a shot because right now it is my fave shadowpeach but it's nice to have a list of some others

Thank you for the recs and I'm glad you liked We Just Click haha

[dogmomwrites]

Romantic Snippet tag

This tag came from @oh-no-another-idea, so thank you for including me in this game!

I'm gonna pass it on with soft tags to @new-royston-cursebreakers, @papercutsunset, and @writingpotato07, as well as an open tag!

Rules—simply share a romantic scene from your WIP

I'll be honest, I'm no romance writer. What romances I do have are almost exclusively slow-burns, so I haven't really gotten to any of those scenes (yes I'm four books into one series). Once I finally do reach those scenes, I'm quite certain I'll stall out lmao so here is a kinda longer scene (word count 639) that's mostly dialogue featuring Cadara and Mickey from my fantasy series and not featuring much actual romance...it's p much just Mickey being super awkward

She flushed. “I got so caught up and just didn’t think. I’m such a—”

“It’s all right. I don’t even have family I’m worried about, so if you’re going to insult yourself, just remember I’m like, three moral levels below you right now,” he said, earning himself a grin.

“I was going to say I’m such an idiot, such a horrible, despicable, revolting person. The dregs of humanity—”

He huffed at her, pretending to be serious, though he was fighting a laugh. “Okay. All right, that’s enough.”

“But now I know I’m even lower!”

“Oh, come on!”

“You walked right into that,” she said, laughing at him. “Right smack into it.”

“Maybe I did, but you’re three moral levels above me, remember?”

“Yeah, and I’m still the dregs of humanity.”

Her eyes were alight with humor, and though he was the butt of the joke, he couldn’t find it in him to be upset. Not with how good happiness looked on her. He realized she was saying something. Summoning his clever wit, he said, “Huh?”

“I said, if you’re not worried about anyone, why did you follow me?” Cadara knew why—or thought she did, anyway. Who could blame her for wanting to make sure? And making him suffer a little in the process was just…well, it was just fun.

She knew. No, of course she didn’t. Except that she did.

For a second, he froze, panicking. Then he thought maybe this would be a good opportunity to tell her, to just get it out, get it over with. Once and for all. He didn’t, because that was a terrible idea, of course.

But…should he tell her?

“Why did you follow me?” she asked, gazing up at him with hopeful, adoring eyes.

“To keep you safe,” he said, and she swooned into his arms.

A terrible, terrible idea. And lame.

Jamming his hands in his pockets, he said, “Nah.”

“What?” she said, torn between laughing and laughing even harder.

He flushed. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. “I meant no. I mean—I just—you know, I just—I just meant…I don’t know.”

“You meant to say you don’t know?”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant to say.” He felt more foolish than he could remember ever feeling, which was saying a lot. He didn’t know that she was smiling.

“Well,” she said, taking his arm and linking hers around it. “Thank you for going with me. If any of them had been hurt, then I…I don’t know. I would’ve needed someone with me.”

Mickey didn’t know what to say. He didn’t trust himself to say anything for a moment, he was so flustered. Trying to play it casual, he shrugged, hoping he looked calm and collected. “Ah, you know, it—it’s nothing, really. Nothing. I’d do it for anyone.”

Nailed it.

“Oh, just anyone?” Her arm slipped from around his.

Wait, what? “Uh—”

She ducked her head, looking down. “For a second, I felt very special.”

Oh no. “No, you are! It—I didn’t, I didn’t mean that.”

“You didn’t mean I’m special?”

“What? No! I mean yes! I mean no!” What was happening? How did he screw it up this bad?

Cadara scuffed her boot on the floor, smearing wolvin blood. “Thanks for fighting with me.”

Helpless and confused, Mickey watched her walk away. He had no idea there were tears in her eyes and even less of a clue that they were from trying not to laugh. For all he knew, he’d just forever ruined any chance of even getting to know her.

He saw the decapitated head of a wolvin on the floor near him and scowled at it. “What are you looking at?” he growled, sending it across the room and thumping against the wall with a frustrated kick.

Quickly, he glanced around to make sure no one saw him.

[thompsborn]

Hi! How are you?

First, thank you for create tbaf and hb, I really love the au's you create and how you tell stories, idk you are amazing. I just needed to tell you :D

Now, I'm sorry if this ruins the 'no spoilers' but can you say if there is a happy ending for homeward bound series or is there not one planned yet?

Have a nice day, thanks!

hello!! i’m pretty good, actually! i hope you’re doing good, as well!!

no one has to thank me for tbaf and hb, these two projects have been very fun to write and have helped me a lot in terms of developing my writing styles and exploring different approaches to writing in general, and i genuinely LOVE writing them (even if i sometimes go a Very Long Time between updating them lmao) so please no need to thank me!! thank YOU for reading them !! ❤️❤️❤️

honestly i’m not against giving spoilers, i’m more just worried about posting them and anyone who may have wanted to avoid them getting upset? it happened a few times back when i wrote reddie fics (the reason i stopped writing for the it fandom is because i would get a lot of messages and asks that were in general not nice and very demanding about what i write and how often i post and it just took all the fun out of it) so i’m just like… overly cautious probably lmao

but!! if anyone WANTS vague spoilers, there are some that i don’t want to share at all because i’m very excited to see peoples reactions to them (there are things i haven’t even told oddy, who i have messaged A Lot about hb and have told the most about my plans for it) but i’m down for some spoilers/hints !!

here’s my compromise i guess for anyone who WANTS to see these hints and mild/vague spoilers and stuff: i’m down to post them, but i’m gonna put them under a read more tab and maybe i’ll start a hb spoiler tag?

homeward bound fic is my tag for the series (i also follow the tag in case anyone else ever wants to post about it pfkfkf) but i’ll tag this homeward bound fic spoilers and any posts in the future that drops hints and shit will be tagged the same !!

anyway, your question: will hb have a happy ending? look under the cut if you’d like to see my answer!!

okay, so here’s some transparency about the series: i don’t have the whole thing planned out.

i have a lot of ideas and i have certain things decided and vague ideas about the other parts, but past the last three chapters of the first fic, i don’t have like proper outlines or anything just yet. i didn’t even have a plan for the first fic when i posted the first like two or three chapters—i was coming up with it as i wrote it and it wasn’t until i was a couple chapters in that i started planning ahead because it was at that point that i realized how massive i wanted the fic to be and it was around that time that i started thinking about making it a series instead of a stand alone fic.

i’m still trying to decide who the antagonists of the second fic are gonna be (i know one, but i’m debating adding more and am ironing out subplots and such)

basically: i don’t know how the series is going to end yet. i’m planning on having the four main fics that will basically be the main story, and then having additional one shots/short fics that kind of fill in gaps and provide moments after college, as the four fics are supposed to encompass one of their school years. this might change, i might make it three fics or add a fifth one or something, but as of now that’s my plan.

while i don’t have the actual ending figured out, i can say with certainty that i want it to be a good ending. maybe not necessarily a super happy one, but it’s not going to end in tragedy. harley and peter are going to have a future together. the spidey squad is going to remain a found family and support system for each other. (also the spidey squad is going to consist of more than the core four we currently have, but i’m not going to spoil that part. it’ll start to be clear who else will be in it group as the series continues. matter of fact, the last chap of the first fic starts that process!)

the one shots that i plan to write based after the end of the main fics will have a lot of snapshots of moments as they all grow up — ups and downs, highs and lows, relationships taking next steps and having fights and making up and everything in between.

this answer is kind of long and rambly, sorry, let me try to summarize my answer in a few sentences:

while the ending of homeward bound has not been officially decided, it is not going to be a bad ending. it’s not going to end in sadness or tragedy. that being said, it might not be a super upbeat ending either, because life will always have its struggles, but the ending will be hopeful and happy in whatever way is most fitting of the series once it ends.

hopefully that answers your question well enough? idk i don’t wanna make it sound like it doesn’t have a happy ending at all, because i definitely want the best for these characters and their futures, but homeward bound has, at its core, been the embodiment of being a realist—not an optimist, not a pessimist, but a realist. the reason i started writing the first fic was because in the emotional turmoil following nwh, i wanted to try and take a realistic approach towards what peter’s story could be following the spell and may’s death and the loss of everything that his life used to be. and also wanted to explore how harry and gwen could be introduced and how harley could be brought into the loop. and of course as a parkner shipper how to make it into parkner as well lol.

life is hard. these characters have been through a lot (and will go through a lot more as the series progresses) but they are strong and they are full of love for each other and that will get them through it.

thank you for the ask!!! genuinely i LOVE answering questions about my fics and having a chance to ramble about them so please feel free to send more!!

[multimilfs]

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader: Mysterious Ways

Summary: Melissa Schemmenti + 10 — “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

AO3

Prompts found here!

A/N: We’re nearing the end of ficmas and I’m both excited (to relax) and sad. It’s a lot of fun writing so many new things as a challenge but all the time… I would not survive. Thank you for joining me on this fun little journey and I hope you enjoy the last two fics!

Also happy christmas eve to those who celebrate!

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @carolncwman

Warning(s): None

You smile as you pass Barbara in the hall, “Good morning, Miss Howard.”

“Good morning.” She smiles, greeting like a melody with the way she drags it out. The happiness Barbara’s radiating is infectious.

You continue on your way to your classrom. There’s half an hour left before the kids start pouring in for the day and you’d like to organize your classwork before then.

There’s a squeak behind you as Barbara turns on her heel, “Miss Y/L/N.”

“Yes?”

“When are you going to speak with Melissa?”

Taken aback, you gape, before collecting yourself. You tilt your head to the side. Barbara laces her hands in front of her and waits, smirking, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” She sounds almost disappointed, “It is almost the new year. Be brave.”

“Mrs. Howard, I appreciate what you’re saying, but… Melissa and I are just friends.”

Shaking her head, Barbara throws her hands up in defeat. No one can say she didn’t try. She’s just not a miracle worker. Lord willing, her meddling isn’t for nothing.

You hear Barbara mutter a disapproving Mm, mm, mm as she walks towards her classroom. You didn’t lie to her; you and Melissa are just friends, after all. Even if you wish it was more.

But one thing you learned early on is not to mix personal and workplace relationships.

If you make a pass at Melissa and it’s unwanted, you ruin the amazing professional relationship you have. Teaching is worth it, but no one ever said it was easy; Melissa makes it easier.

She always has your back. If you ever needed it, she’ll call in any favors to get you what you need. Loyalty like that is hard to come by in anyone.

You’re content with her friendship… even if you’d give up a lifetime of cheesesteaks to kiss her just once.

Going through the day, you ignore the regret in the back of your mind.

——

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, Alex?” You look up from your papers.

Alex looks deep in thought. His elbows are up on the desk and he’s resting his head in his hands. You lean back in your chair and wait.

“If there’s a Black Panther, can there be a Mixed Panther too?”

You blink.

“That’s a good question. I think the answer is a little complicated though.”

“Why?” He asks.

All of the class is paying attention now. Their worksheets on long divisions are forgotten, all eyes on you. You didn’t want to get into a conversation like this today. The kids are naturally curious and you love that, but some topics are meant more for parents.

The problem is that once your students get a question or idea in their heads, they won’t let it go. You’ll be badgered for days. You can almost admire their dedication.

“Well, why do you think you need a ‘Mixed Panther?’” You ask carefully.

“Because Black Panther is Black, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Do you think you’re not Black if you’re Mixed?”

One of your other students pipes up, “My Grandmama doesn’t think so. My daddy says when I was born she asked whose white baby I was.”

That prompts an uproar of conversation and laughter from various parts of your room. With your door firmly shut, you let it stand for thirty seconds before clapping out a familiar pattern. All of the children stop to clap back the same.

A few stragglers are still talking and you clear your throat, waiting. The pointed stares of their classmates quiets them.

“If you want another super hero that looks like you and your friends, Alex, I see no reason why there shouldn’t be. But there’s no degree of Blackness, okay? Black Panther is meant for you just as much as your friends who look a little different.” You say, hoping they’ll all understand what you’re saying, “Now, I’m glad you’re all interested in this, but we have long division questions that still need to be filled out.”

They all grumble, but don’t seem too distracted anymore. You’re sure with a little time their brains will come up with another line of questioning to further distract from the lesson. That’s a problem for you later.

——

The teacher’s lounge is full and you balk upon walking in the door. On a good day, maybe three of the tables are full at once. Among the five tables in the room, not a seat is left unoccupied.

You spot Barbara and Melissa at their usual table. They sit just the two of them. The extra chairs at their table you could occupy are pulled away by others, holding teachers you only slightly remember.

Ava is curiously absent, you notice. Which is a shame. She said she’d be at lunch today.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, something wrong?” Melissa asks when you wander near their table.

“No, no,” You shake your head, “I’ve just never seen it so full in here.”

“Ava offered to watch over lunch today. Which is odd, since it’s, y’know, Ava.”

“Don’t be so hasty. Maybe she wanted to do something nice, that’s all.” Barbara suggests.

“More like she finds the new lunch lady cute,” Melissa says, “but sure, Barb, maybe she developed a mature personality for the afternoon.”

“I think it’s nice what she’s doing.” You shrug.

“See?”

You add, “It makes it a pain to find seating, though.”

Barbara stands up quickly and gathers the remainder of her lunch. She flashes you an award winning smile. Melissa looks stunned and confused, pushing her glasses on top of her head and leaning back to better look at her friend.

“I’ve got some last minute grading. Take my seat.” Barbara says, tone perfectly sweet.

“Mrs. Howard, really, it’s fine.”

“No no, I insist.”

Barbara doesn’t say much else as she turns and walks out of the room. With her back turned to you, you miss the wink she shoots at the cameras.

——

“That?” Barbara smiles out in the hall, “Just a friendly nudge. The Lord may work in mysterious ways, but so can I.”

——

You take up the spot next to Melissa with a nervous smile. When your legs brush, you nearly jump back, fearing even that is too much between friends. A flush works its way up your neck.

Even a minute with her makes you feel like an awkward highschooler again; wondering if looking at the girls in your grade for too long is inappropriate and avoiding any contact for fear it’ll be interpreted as something else. You hate feeling so nervous.

But Melissa is always easy-going. Even in her tougher moments, she’s easy to talk to. Her laugh alone relaxes the muscles in your body and you melt into every conversation.

“I heard you had an interesting conversation in your classroom today,” Melissa says between bites of ziti, “Tackling race theory seems a little involved.”

“One of my kids, Alex, asked a question and it kind of evolved into that.” You admit.

“Kids always have a way of finding the sweet spot with conversations like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, they do.”

You smile, but you can’t shake the awkward feeling of being too close, too much. The conversation lapses into silence.

Melissa pokes at her ziti while you push rice around in your bowl. You want to say something, anything, but can’t make your mouth move.

Melissa sighs, “When are you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

“On a date. It doesn’t need to be anywhere fancy, you know?”

You blink. Staring at her hard, you’re trying to figure out if you’re hearing right. Melissa Schemmenti wants you to ask her on a date? Like… a real one?

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, honey,” Melissa sighs, “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. Now, when are you going to ask me?”

You’re overwhelmed and shocked, but elation takes over it all, “Today after the kids go home. My classroom… and don’t be late.”

[itjazzbicch]

Just Friends?

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Fem Reader

Summary: Being bothered by a kid in class who keeps flirting with the reader, Takashi learns that this guy might try to ruin her night out with her friends, tagging along and pretending to be her boyfriend to make him back off, but they realize that maybe they like each other in a different way than just friends…

Warnings: A little swearing

Word Count: 1.4k

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:

“Well, what a way to have my day ruined,” Mumbling to myself, I plopped down in my seat, hoping some sewing would take my mind off of what just happened.

Looks like it wasn’t going away just yet when Takashi set down in front of me, noticing:

“Why the mean face, Y/N? Looks like someone pissed you off.”

“Remember that boy from my class I told you about? How he likes me and like never leaves me alone?” Making sure he remembered before I continued, he surely did, growing a bit annoyed just like me:

“Do I have to kick this guys ass?”

“Well, I was talking to some friends about going to the movies and guess who had to stick his nose in it?” I huffed, disappointed because some creep has to come and ruin my plans with my friends, “I’m not going now. I know he’s gonna be there.”

“Hey, don’t let some weirdo ruin your fun with your friends. Just want me to take you?” Takashi was always so kind, wanting to see me smile and making that happen with his, “I’m sure he won’t try anything if I’m around and you can enjoy your movie. It’s a win win.”

“You really don’t mind? I’ve been wanting to see this movie, but I also don’t want to intrude your schedule or any-“

“Girl, you’re fine! I promise!” His hand swatted with a smile, “You’re not intruding anything. As soon as we’re done with the club, we’ll go to the movies.”

“Thank you so much, Takashi. You’re awesome,” I smiled, feeling a bit flustered when he stood and winked to me:

“Never a problem.”

I was a lot less worried now that Takashi was going to come to the movies with me. Sewing club was fun as always and by the time we headed out of the movies, I ended up all flustered again, thanks to my friends:

“Aw, Y/N! You brought a date!”

They were all awing and teasing me playfully while in line and getting their tickets, but my attention fell on that kid who always hit on me. He actually showed up! Takashi noticed quickly too, glancing at my friends then whispering to me:

“Just wanna play along? That guy is giving me weird vibes.”

“Sure,” I nodded, noticing that that guy was behind us now!

The nervousness made me hold onto Takashi’s hand; I always felt safe around him and I’m sure he knew that. He didn’t mind in the slightest that I was holding his hand, he even flashed a smile at me before taking the lead in line:

“Two tickets please.”

He was so cool about this and it made me relax some, the smell of popcorn making me excited for the movie, but my heart skipping a beat when I heard him say:

“Want a drink and some popcorn, babe?”

Glancing up to him with wide eyes, I realized that his eyes were locked on that kid from class, so I tried my best to shake off the nervousness and play along:

“I’d love some, please.”

I didn’t know why, but hearing him call me babe gave me a feeling that I never felt before. I don’t think anyone’s ever called me babe that way before. The way it sounded so meaningful and sweet, I couldn’t help but feel a certain way about it.

“Hope you don’t mind if we split it,” Takashi smiled as he paid and let me take the bucket of popcorn and I smiled right along:

“Never, babe.”

Giggling, I tossed a piece and he caught it in his mouth, giggling along as he ate it, interlocking arms and finding my friends to sit with in the theater. I was glad that they didn’t mind that I brought him along, although I’d have some explaining to do considering we were actually pulling off the whole date thing.

“And hey, don’t worry about that guy,” He whispered to me, both of us watching as he sat just a few seats away, a glare beaming at us. That glare made the both of us angry, but Takashi gave him something to look at, only making my heart skip more when he wrapped his arm around me, “Just enjoy the movie.”

Only nodding, things settled again as the previews showed, then the actual movie began. It was a romantic comedy that was lived up to my expectations. Even Takashi was laughing at the movie and I forgot all about that guy, having a great time with Takashi and my friends.

Towards the end of the movie, when things started to get real romantic, Takashi began to joke with me, covering my eyes:

“I don’t think you’re old enough for this scene.”

“Oh shush,” I giggled, swatting his hand away, blushing as I heard my friends whispering next to me:

“Aww, aren’t they so cute? When did she have a boyfriend?”

Takashi heard too and I don’t think he was pretending when his arm around me pulled me a little closer. Naturally, I rested my head on his shoulder and he laid his head on top of mine, finishing the rest of the movie with smiles on both of our faces.

“Let’s get you home, don’t want you out past bed time,” He joked while checking the time; I just laughed at him, standing along with my friends and taking his hand again, but as he went to take a step out, there was that guy again and he bumped Takashi with his shoulder.

Oh boy, he really didn’t know who he was messing with, especially when he spat, “Excuse you.”

“We’re just trying to leave. So, how about you get moving, you creep,” Takashi spat back, my attention turning to one of my friends as she tapped my shoulder and whispered:

“Hey, Y/N. Isn’t that the guy who keeps bugging you in school?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, swallowing down a lump of anxiety, Takashi letting go of my hand when that guy stepped up to him:

“Who are you calling a creep?!”

“You! Considering you’ve been eyeballing and bugging my girl during her classes,” Takashi never backed down from anyone and the glare in his eyes alone had that guy nearly shivering, “And if she tells me that you’ve messed with her again? It’ll be the last time you do it and that’s a promise.”

Finally, that creep decided to back down and walk away, letting out a deep sigh of relief, actually smiling at my friends comment:

“You got yourself a tough one, huh Y/N?”

They all giggled it off and I just smiled more when Takashi wrapped his arm around me again, smiling back to them, “No one messes with my girl and gets away with it.”

“Let’s get home now, hm?” I looked up at him and he nodded, waving to my friends as we all parted ways, “You guys get home safe!”

Hoping on Takashi’s bike and heading back home, there weren’t many words between us, not till he parked his bike along my driveway, nervous again when I got off and thanked him:

“Hey uh, I just wanted to thank you. I actually really enjoyed the movie and had a good time. I probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for you, so thank you again.”

“Of course,” He slouched back on his bike a little, scratching the back off his head as he tried to play off, “And I hope you didn’t mind me wrapping my arm around you and calling you babe. I know that’ll be tricky explaining to your friends.”

“Don’t apologize, I didn’t mind at all,” I smiled softly, whispering as I admitted, “It actually made me happy.”

“Oh yeah?” He was surprised by my answer, but propped his arm up on the handlebars of his bike, “You know I care about you Y/N and if I make you happy, how would you feel about going on a real date?”

“A real date?” I never been on a date before and I was talking to myself rather than him, shaking it off so I could accept with a smile, “I’d like that.”

“Since it’s the weekend, how does tomorrow afternoon sound?” Sitting up straight, he smiled more at my nod:

“Tomorrow afternoon is perfect. It’s a date.”

“Sweet, I’ll come pick you up then,” He leaned over to give me a hug that I melted right into, a flustered mess when he kissed my cheek before sitting back down and starting up his bike, winking before he took off:

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

[metalbuckaroo]

Okay so I’m a sucker for protective/possessive moments with Bucky so I was thinking something like either dbf! Bucky or biker! Bucky knows the reader’s ex wasn’t great and while they are on a date or something, he sees the reader’s ex harassing her and the ex gets a little physical (nothing super serious)?? Maybe the reader goes to get them concessions or goes to the bathroom and that’s when her ex sees her and tries to like corner her and get her back?? Idk you can have fun with it I’m not picky. Also congrats on almost hitting 1k followers!! :) xx

Diner

Summary: a night meant for just Bucky and his girl doesn't go as planned

Warnings: gross, toxic ex, unwanted attention, lil angsty, lil fluffy, lil smutty, cursing.

AU: Biker!Bucky x F!Reader

AN: Since I've done so much dbf bucky the past couple days and haven't done biker bucky in a hot minute I chose biker, and this also may be a little peak into a new biker!bucky series I've been planning out for awhile.

MASTERLIST

Gif not mine

Bucky patted at his pockets, shifting around in his seat to feel his back ones. "I forgot my wallet in the truck." He sighed, going to stand from the booth.

"I'll go get it, just sit back down." You said, giving him a soft smile. He didn't argue, just nodded and leaned back into the seat. "It's in the glove compartment."

Going to the single cab truck that was parked a few spots down from the front door of the diner, you pulled the creaky door open, the dome light flicking on to light the dark space.

Bucky kept everything but gloves in the compartment. Unopened packs of cigarettes, extra lighters, gas receipts; the gloves usually stayed on his hands or in his back pocket.

You quickly grabbed the brown leather wallet and shut the truck door, seeing the waitress walking towards the table Bucky was at through the large windows.

"Hey, you. Been awhile." You froze from the familiar voice talking behind you, not taking your hand from the door. "Hi, Jason." You mumbled, glancing at him when you went to walk back towards the entrance of the diner.

He walked closer, blocking your path and making you back towards the truck again. "How have you been? Heard you moved away but, here you are."

You cleared your throat and looked to the windows where Bucky was sat, looking down at his gloved hands. "I'm, uh, here with my boyfriend. So, if you'll just let me-"

Jason blocked you from going around him, holding his arm out so you couldn't pass. "Boyfriend? Please, hun. No other man could want you after I had you."

Your blood went cold, skin crawling from his words. "Well, you can tell him that. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." You spat, pushing pass him.

Bucky looked out just in time to see Jason grab your wrist and jerk you back towards him. The action making him push out of the booth and shove the glass door open.

"Get the fuck off, Jason." You seethed, trying to pull your arm from his bruising grip. "That's such a pretty dress, though. You never wore dresses when we were together. Let's try again." He said with faux innocence. "You never let me."

A gentle, yet grounding touch to your sides from behind eased your nerves; Bucky's gruff voice filling your ears. "I don't like people touching what's mine. Especially my girl."

Jason sneered at him, releasing your wrist. "Your girl? You let her out in a dress like that?" He scoffed. Bucky pulled you closer to his front, trying to put as much space between you and the man as he could. "Most know better than to touch or even look at her. Now, move." Bucky's voice was chillingly calm as he glowered at the shorter man.

"Must not have fucked her yet, she's ruined. All because of me." Jason said with a low chuckle. "Get in the truck, cherry." Bucky said, his tone softer towards you as he urged you to walk away. "Buck-"

The hard look he gave made you shut up and walk around to the driverside, jumping slightly when Jason was shoved into the side of the truck's bed.

You looked over you shoulder to see the much larger brunette stalking towards him, expression on his face that would make anyone with some sense slither away in cowardice. "I don't know who you think you ruined, but it's not her. I suggest you stay as far away from her as possible, she's mine and I don't share."

You scooted to the passenger side and cranked the handle to roll the window down, poking your head out to look at Bucky. "Buck, please. Can we just go somewhere else?" You pleaded, wanting out of the situation as quick as possible.

Bucky backed away, glaring at Jason for a moment before turning around. "Yeah, better listen to your whore. It's all she ever w-" Jason was cut off by a swift right hook knocking him to his knees.

"Dumb fucking bastard, that's not how you talk about a lady." Bucky spat through gritted teeth, looking down at the man who was holding his bleeding nose. "Anything but a fucking lady. Let her out in a dress like that and she'll cheat on you with the first guy who gives her a compliment."

Kneeling in front of Jason, Bucky cocked his head to the side. "I know how to take care of my girl, unlike filth like you." He spat through gritted teeth.

"Bucky Barnes, truck, now." You ordered, Bucky standing and looking at you, a softer look to his face as he made his way to his side of the truck.

"Sorry, baby." He mumbled, shoving the keys in the ignition before tugging you to the middle seat.

Tonight was suppose to be a night without club and bar talk, and jackets. Just you and Bucky, at a small diner just outside town. Now, Bucky felt like it was ruined and could tell you were still stressed by the way you fiddled with the glove on his hand.

"Want it off." You huffed, getting a nod from Bucky who took the velcro strap between his teeth and pulled it; taking his hand from the wheel just long enough to tug it off.

His warm hand went back to your thigh, thumb pressing soothing circles into the skin. "We're taking the back way home." He exhaled, his grip on the steering wheel not letting up.

You looked over at his stern expression, knowing exactly why he wanted to take the back way home. The reason making you squeeze your thighs together.

"I shouldn't have let you go get it. I'm sorry." Bucky mumbled, giving your thigh a light squeeze. "You don't have to say sorry for every little thing." You said, shaking your head at him.

His jaw clenched, the way your ex had looked at you replaying in his mind. It made his stomach churn.

The truck was suddenly pulled to the side of the dark road and jammed into park. "C'mere, wanna talk to you." He said, pulling the lever to tilt the steering wheel as high as it could go. "You can talk to me from here."

"No, I need you to listen to me fully. Come here." His tone had a demanding edge to it as you shifted around to straddle his lap.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, Bucky took a slow, deep breath, hands on the outsides of your thighs. "I don't want you listening to a damn thing he said. Got me?"

You nodded, toying with one of the buttons on his shirt. "What he says doesn't matter. I've got you, Sarge." You said softly, fingers moving to wrap around his dog tags. "Hm, that's how you wanna play?" He chuckled, hands gliding further up your thighs.

"Maybe." You shrugged. A gasp passed through your lips when the thin fabric of your underwear was ripped at the sides. "You gotta quit doing that, won't have any left."

"If you'd quit wearin' 'em, I wouldn't have to rip 'em."

You lifted your hips long enough for him to shuffle his pants down enough to free his erection, lips engulfing yours as your fingers carded into his thick hair.

Bucky's thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as he pulled away. "Want you to make yourself feel good. Alright, baby? Do whatever takes your mind off of it, I'm all yours and you're all mine." He purred, both of your chests heaving from the kiss as his metal hand lifted your hips. "Right?"

You nodded, biting back a whimper from the stretch he caused when you lowered onto him. His hand held your jaw, pulling your face closer so he could nudge your nose with his. "Say it, sugar. I wanna hear it."

You popped open the buttons on his shirt, gliding your hands up his muscular abdomen and chest before leaning to his ear. "All yours, Sarge."

A low groan pulled from his chest, you lips ghosting across his scruffy jaw. "There's my girl." He cooed, hands guiding your hips in a grind.

"So tight and wet for me. Take me so perfectly." He groaned, rolling his hips up into yours as you bounced as much as you could in the cramped space.

"Fuck, James" you panted, already feeling the pressure building in your lower stomach with each movement. "Already, cherry? I knew I was good but damn- can feel you milking me."

Bucky moved his thumb to press sloppy circles to your clit, your fingers digging into the skin of his chest as warmth took over; making him groan and snap his hips up.

You felt the muscles of his abdomen tense before he let out a low groan, rolling his hips into yours through both of your highs.

Thick arms wrapped around you and held you close, Bucky's lips brushing your shoulder and stubble scratching your skin. "I'll always take care of you, sugar."

[33roda]

Kaeya X Dom!Reader <3

tags: tiddy sucking (m!receiving), butt fingering, (m!receiving), brat taming kinda, gn!reader I think !!

____________________________________

Yet another exhausting Abyss Order attack, finally over with.

It was a quite difficult one at that, having required a whole army of knights at the gates of Mondstadt, so Kaeya invited the team to a drink at Angel's Share, out of all places. Even after all the energy that used up, he's still in the mood for drinks?

Well, that didn't matter anyway, because either way, you would've been forced to go either by Kaeya or by Lisa. You sat quietly next to Kaeya, listening to him chat with the other knights.

"Ah, another success.. Of course, we couldn't have done it without our Honorary Knight here," he chatted, sounding as sarcastic as ever. "You truly are a new storm after all."

He rested his hand on your shoulder while holding up his third glass of sparkling wine of the night, chuckling at how Amber was already tipsy after one sip of beer. Jean held her up, furrowing her eyebrows tightly, looking for where Lisa went. Probably off to flirt with the new naive bartender. Everyone's enjoying their time here while she had to babysit Amber and Lisa?

"Of course, Y/N. It is truly an honor to celebrate this with our new Honorary Knight." she stumbled as she continued holding up Amber and wiping her drool with napkins, her slurring drowned out by the noises in the background. You let out a polite smile, showing your appreciation to everyone on the table.

"Thank you, Grand Master. It was a pleasure working with you today." The table was awkward. Too formal, too stiff, but Kaeya didn't seem to mind it, just smirking and slowly sipping on his wine. You almost started wondering and fantasizing about when it'd be time to leave, but as soon as you thought of that, you felt Kaeya's hand slide off your shoulder and started gently caressing your thighs. Ah, expected. Of course there had to be an ulterior motive to his invitation, not that you minded. Taking advantage of the loud, distracting chatter in the background, he ducked his head next to your ear just enough so you could feel his hot breath against it.

"You sure look bored, Y/N. Quite rude of you to not respect etiquette," he whispered against your ear and chuckled. "I have something more fun for you later. Meet me outside the bar once the rest leave."

Ha. Finally, something interesting this night. You had nothing to lose anyway, so why not entertain his request? his actions motivating you to just get the night over with, you try to be more friendly with Jean to lessen the tenseness in the air, her unaware of the touching and groping exchanged between you and Kaeya underneath the table.

Lisa would never seem to return, and Jean eventually got tired of the Outrider hiccuping and slurring on her words next to her, deciding it was best for everyone to just go home. Exchanging goodbyes to everyone, Kaeya escorted them outside, looking back and shooting you a wink and a smug smile before leaving the tavern. Oh what you'd do to wipe that smug smile off his face, and you'd be sure to do just that tonight. You started packing up your stuff, taking your sweet time with it, thinking about how you're keeping The Cavalry Captain waiting. You can already picture how he'll be squirming and begging to be touched.. What a pretty sight, you thought, as you exit the tavern door to be greeted with silence for a second; then the husky voice of a grumpy-looking Kaeya.

"Took ya long enough, Honorary Knight," he raised an eyebrow, waiting for an excuse or an apology, getting a figurative slap in the face when he got teasing instead.

"Oh, so sorry, Captain, did my touch make you so needy in there you couldn't wait for a few minutes?," you cooed, giving him as much of a smug smile as he was giving you earlier.

"Hm," he scoffed. Resistance? from a new knight like you? that's new. He was known to be irresistible, to both men and women, being all dolled up with his fancy fur and chains. At least he still has you in his hands, he thought.

Thank Barbatos the streets were empty ‒ if anyone saw you leading the Captain to your house in the dead of the night, the rumours would not sound pretty for either of you. But rumours were the least of your concerns, being in your room with Kaeya holding you against the wall and leaning down to whisper in your ear as you twirled his ponytail in your fingers from behind.

"Getting you here was easier than expected, Y/N," he taunted, "I'm starting to think you've wanted this for some time."

"In your dreams," you looked up at him. To be honest, he was a very attractive man - looking down at you with half lidded eyes and that smirk that never seemed to fade. He shot down to kiss you, but it was too early, you thought. He had to earn it. You grabbed his ponytail, forcing him to throw his head back and expose his pretty little neck to you. His eyes going wide as you started tracing circles on his exposed chest - now that was a sight to appreciate. Funny, he's the captain yet his skin felt smooth and silky against your calloused hands.. now you understand why he liked showing it off so bad. Switching hands to grab him by the face, you snickered, "It seems like you've been the one planning this, Sir Kaeya. Actually, how about you let me be your master tonight, hm?"

"You think it's that easy? Insulting of you, Y/N," you raised an eyebrow at the disobedience, even with your hands grabbing his cheeks, his words coming out slurred. Should've expected that from a smug fuck like Kaeya. "Prove yourself to me."

"You really are a brat. Not surprised, honey." you said, letting go of his cheeks and immediately diving into his chest to lick and suck at it, leaving it with red and purple bruises. Sliding your fingers across his wet chest and under his shirt, you flicked his nipple with your thumb before squeezing it, feeling him shudder standing in front of you. "What's wrong? can't handle it? need to lay down?" you didn't even let him finish before shoving him down into the bed, impressing him with your sudden strength. Giggling, you pinned his wrists down next to his head. "Just let me have my fun with those pretty tits of yours." Surprisingly, he didn't complain - instead, he just bit his lip and turned his head to the side, allowing himself to be touched. "Such a good boy, really,"

"Th-this is just a one time thing, Y/N, don't get your hopes up," he stuttered out between little gasps and squirms, "I promise you, I'll be stuffing you full tonigh- ngh!" he choked, feeling you move his shirt to the side and start lapping at his nipple. If he wasn't hard before, he sure as hell is now. Riling him up was easier than expected - although he'd never admit that. You continued nibbling at him, feeling his hardness underneath his pants on your stomach. Poor Kaeya, getting hard just from this?

"Sensitive, are we?" you commented between licks. "No wonder you love showing off your chest so much. Makes me think how you'd like showing the rest of you off?"

"You'd love to see that, huh?" he remained smug.

"Why yes, I would, Captain," you purred. You started unbuckling his belt and stripping him all the way down to his underwear, leaving so much more area for you to lick, kiss, and just ruin. "Such a pillow princess. Are you like this with everyone else?"

"N-no!" he exclaimed, looking insulted. "Just strip me already, Y/N." Honestly, it was pretty funny how he tried to mask his horniness, even with his dick as hard as ever under you, face flushed and breathing heavily.

"I'm not stripping you unless you call me your master. And if you strip yourself," you held up his chin with your fingers, "I'll just leave you here, naked and horny, with no pleasure at all. Your choice, Kaeya."

"Master.. please, please strip me - I need more, anything, please," he sounded like he was about to cry. How adorable, his pride crumbling right before him, all just so he could have your touch..

"Good boy."

You pulled down his tight blue underwear down to his ankles, freeing his oh-so-pretty cock. He was certainly impressive, but unfortunately, his dick would be useless to you tonight. "How pretty," you hummed, tracing every vein with your fingers, feeling every throb. "You want more, don't you? I want to hear you beg for more."

"More, please, I n-need you to touch me master, please," gasping, he tried rutting against your hand, rubbing himself on you, anything - but failing. "I want it so bad,"

Having the Cavalry Captain being your little bitch wasn't so bad after all. Laughing at his little whines and pathetic attempts to get off on your hand, you grabbed him and started pumping gently, watching his reactions in pure amusement. His usually striking eyes shut closed, eyebrows tight, his mouth wide open - it was all a sight to behold. Groans and whimpers filling the room, he continued trying to thrust harder into your hand, chasing his release. But baby, he had no idea the plan was entirely different than he thought.

He really thought it was just a bit of teasing, then you'd make him cum with your hands, or fuck you tight. But you stopped pumping him, leaving him whining and begging for more, a look of pitiful disappointment on his face. It almost made you feel bad.

"It's not gonna be that easy, pretty boy," you slapped his thighs, "legs up for me baby."

"H-huh?" he looked genuinely confused, still in a daze from the sudden disappearance of your hand on his cock. Not letting him waste any time, you lifted his legs all the way up by yourself.

"Can't even take orders?" you smacked his ass, making it jiggle and let out that filthy noise. You were impressed how loud it was, honestly. "What would the other knights think seeing you like this, Kaeya? maybe you want them to hear you get fucked? see you all spread out for your master?" Not even giving him a chance to respond, you shoved your fingers in his mouth, he could only hum little "mmphs" and nods in your direction. "I never knew our Captain would be such a slut," you watched in amusement as he coated your fingers in drool, looking up at you in desperation. "I'll give you exactly what you want." smiling at him, you rubbed your saliva-coated fingers against his hole for a few seconds before shoving a finger in to prep him. He wanted more, evidently, by the way he kept humping down against your finger with hesitant moans.

"Y-You're doing it all wrong," he slipped off your fingers with heavy breaths, "let me show you how it's done, master," You raised an eyebrow, and as soon as you were gonna grab him by his throat and punish him, he spread himself out even further with his hands, looking to get a reaction out of you. It was his first time doing this with someone else, but he's definitely fucked himself in front of a mirror before. Who wouldn't love to watch his body like that, anyway?

Shoving two fingers inside himself, he started looking for his spot, erratically humping the air looking for more stimulation, anything; but the most you'd do is stroke his thighs with a smile on your face, teasing him even further. He was obviously just trying to put on a show for you, make you watch him stretch himself out and look at him make the most erotic faces for you - he'd even make sure the whole of Mondstadt heard him get fucked, as if he wasn't gonna wear your hickeys like an award in front of the other knights tomorrow. Watching him fuck in and out of himself, listening to the filthy noises his ass made; you couldn't help but cross your legs a little. "Do you like it, master?" he whimpered.

"I know what you're doing, prince," you answered, "trying so hard to get more.. such a desperate bitch, don't you think?" he nodded in agreement. "Well, since you've been so good.." turning him over, you pushed his face down into the bed. He was already arching his back for you - his pretty hole all wet and ready to get fucked. "You'll still have to work for it, though," you laughed, hearing him groan in protest into the bed. Gently pushing your digits into him, you ordered, "Fuck yourself on my fingers, Kaeya."

Immediately obeying, he pushed himself back onto your fingers, dick flailing under him, sobbing and begging for you to just fuck him yourself - maybe if he obeyed for a little, you'd finally do it? "Such a good boy. And to think you wanted to fuck me?"

You wouldn't let go until you found his spot, curving your fingers towards his navel, making his legs give out from all the pleasure - the Captain was simply a doll in your hands to play with. Even when his legs gave out, only then would you finally fuck him yourself, his tears staining your bed alongside his cum. Fucking his spot even when your arms got tired, you had to make him cum again. His moans getting more and more high-pitched with every fuck into him, squirming and grinding his ass against you, he finally came again with a throaty moan filling the room. You pulled out of him and gave his ass a quick smack, letting him take his breath before turning over to face you. His cum all over his stomach and chest was a sight to remember, dick twitching, his face blushy and pretty lips open gasping.

Sliding your fingers across his chest, you picked up some of his cum and put it near his mouth, waiting for him to put his tongue out to lick it. He did just that, making eye contact with you, and even holding your wrist in place so he could lick it all up. "Good puppy."

He'll definitely be limping around the other knights tomorrow.. Not that he minded. He'll absolutely be teasing you again at the Knights of Favonious headquarters, anyway.

[scuttling]

If I Should Linger

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,979 (what is wrong with me??) Tags: 18+, NSFW, Best Friend's Dad Hotch, Confident reader, Flirting, Oral sex, Protected sex, Dirty talk, A little angst with a happy ending Summary: Your best friend stands you up at the bar, but it actually turns into the best night you've had in a long time—maybe the best night of your life. Unfortunately, things don't stay uncomplicated for long... *Requested by @hotforhotchner11 Link to A03 or read below! “I can’t believe you stood me up to have sex with a frat boy,” you hiss into your phone from your seat at the bar. Your best friend Julie—better known as Jay—is on the other end, and she’s completely ruining your plans for the evening at later than the last minute. She’s never on time for anything.

“He’s not a frat boy… yet. He’s rushing.” You pick up your gin and tonic to take a sip, but her comment makes you pause.

“He’s rushing? How old is he?” The breath she blows out before she answers tells you everything you need to know. Goddamn cradle robber.

“Twenty? Or, almost twenty.”

“Oh, you nasty girl. He’s nearly ten years younger than us.” At 28, you literally could not imagine being interested in a 20 year old. Anyone under 25 is practically an infant; what would you talk about?

“The pussy wants what it wants, babe. It’s more fun when they barely know what they’re doing.” Then again, you figure, she isn’t exactly doing much talking.

“That’s gross, Jay.”

“Is it any grosser than your thing for older guys? You’d fuck my dad if I let you anywhere near him, which is exactly why I don’t.”

“I would not fuck your dad—actually, what does he look like?” She groans down the line and you laugh. “I’m kidding. I’m trying to fuck someone’s dad tonight, but not yours.” You hear a choked laugh from beside you and you glance over at, objectively, one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen: he’s Black, bald, muscular, with a neatly trimmed goatee and a killer smile, and apparently your thirst for older men amuses him. You smile back. “Jay, I have to go; I’m embarrassing myself in public.”

“Okay, and what else is new? Bye!” When she hangs up, you lock your phone and turn to face the man at the bar.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget people are actually listening in places like these; there’s so much talking it’s all kind of white noise to me.”

“It’s kind of my job to listen to what no one else does, but I forget to turn it off sometimes,” he says, and no, that’s not intriguing or anything. “So you’re into older guys?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, and you lean in with your chin in your hand, elbow on the bar.

“Almost exclusively. You don’t look old enough to be someone’s dad, but I’d probably make an exception.” He laughs again; he doesn’t have a drink, so maybe he’s waiting for the bartender, but you sip yours.

“I’m flattered, but taken. I have a friend who’s probably your type; he doesn’t do one night stands, though. He doesn’t really do anything. We’re trying to loosen him up.” You hum thoughtfully, take a cursory glance around the room.

“I happen to be great at loosening older men up. Is he here?” He shoots you a smile, looks at you like you kind of amaze him.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Would you, if you weren’t taken?” He nods a little, like you’ve got a good point, and you both laugh. “Yeah, it’s a double standard. If you can walk up to a woman and ask her if it hurt when she fell from heaven, why can’t I walk up to an older man and ask if he believes in love at first sight, or if I should walk by again?”

“That tired line would not work on my friend,” he says, and you grin.

“I think you’d be surprised. But, you know him better, so why don’t you just invite me back to your table, since I got stood up by my friend and I’m all alone, and let me do my thing?” You swirl your straw in your drink, try to look flirty, and he leans in on his elbow like you did before.

“You know what? What the hell. If nothing else, he gets some attention from a pretty girl and maybe it boosts his confidence.” You smile—you like this guy already.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He rolls his eyes, and then the bartender presents him with his drinks. You take two—one is a neat bourbon, that has to belong to the older man friend—and follow him to his table while he just shakes his head.

“Looks like you brought back more than drinks,” a pale woman with dark hair and bangs says with a smile when the two of you approach the table. He hands her one of the beers, takes the cocktail from your hand and gives it to a petite blonde with fair skin.

“Her friend bailed on her and we got talking at the bar, so I invited her to come sit with us.” You introduce yourself to the group, and the friend Derek mentioned might be your type? Egregious understatement.

He’s everything you like in an older man: polite, well-spoken, handsome, clean shaven, with a great head of thick, dark hair—he’s wearing an expensive watch, a goddamn suit, a tailored suit that fits him perfectly, and if Jay were here, you’d be catching her attention and panting like a dog, with your hands up near your face.

To someone without your more refined palate for older gentlemen, he may look like an average white guy in his early fifties, but you have to look down to make sure your panties haven’t dropped involuntarily. Just in case.

“Is this seat taken?” you ask, gesturing to the one next to him, and he shakes his head, pulls it out for you before he sits back down—yes, he stood when you approached the table. Manners, check. You’re trying not to drool.

You smooth out your skirt before you take your seat—you always dress for the man you want to attract, and tonight is no exception, so you’re wearing a black lace dress and nude heels; the dress is fitted, but not clingy, and not too short, and you know the right kind of man will find it appealing. So far, your handsome potential love interest Aaron seems to be looking respectfully; that may change, but you’re happy to see it, for now.

“So Derek mentioned you’re all in the FBI; are you the boss? You look like the boss,” you say with a playful smile, and Aaron looks a little nervous when he nods, makes eye contact.

“Until someone decides to overthrow me,” he jokes, deadpan, and your smile gets brighter. Dry sense of humor, check.

“I’d like to see them try; I definitely sense that you can handle your own.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Derek hiding a smile behind his hand. He knows you’re flirting, even if no one else does, and another reason you hope to take Aaron home is so you can wipe that smile off his face—but mostly because Aaron’s gorgeous, and you know it would be a very good time for the both of you.

“Let’s play darts,” Derek says to the other people at the table—you can’t remember their names at the moment, all your attention focused on Aaron—and they get up and walk over to the board, so it’s just the two of you.

Aaron clears his throat. “Thank you. What do you do for work?”

“I’m in publishing; a copy editor. Mostly Tom Clancy type action novels, and romance novels. Lots of heaving bosoms and cries of overwhelming pleasure, you know?” You take a sip of your drink through the straw, looking over at him as innocently as you can. He’s a little flushed; you’re a huge fan of that look on a man. “Do you ever read romance novels?”

“Uh, no. Not my genre.” He takes a sip of his drink, and you watch his mouth while he does.

“Not mine either. When you edit enough of them, they become wholly unsexy… and they never compare to real life.” You flick your eyes over his body, briefly but not subtly, and he gives you a glance back. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest. “So what do you like to read? Wait, may I guess?” you ask, setting a hand on his arm. He nods, and you carry on, leaning just a little closer. “So I’m going to guess you’re a fan of the classics, novels you’ve read a hundred times. I think you would tell me your favorite is To Kill a Mockingbird,” you say, tapping against his sleeve, “and maybe intellectually it is, but you actually feel more when you read Moby Dick. I bet your heart yearns for adventure—not that life as a crime solving FBI agent is boring, but it's all too real. Moby Dick is the perfect blend of adventure and fantasy for a man like you.”

“You’ve known me for all of ten minutes,” he says with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug and take a drink.

“True. But am I right? Or close?” He smiles, the first full, unguarded expression he’s given tonight, and you feel awesome for making that happen.

“My favorite book is Moby Dick. I make a point to read it at least twice a year. You’re good.”

“Thank you.” You pull back, take your hand off of his arm; you’ve laid the groundwork for touching, and he’ll have to make a move if he wants more. “People often tell you a lot they don’t intend to, and books are my thing, so it’s easy for me to connect the dots. I recommend books to people as a kind of party trick.” You stir your drink, and he shifts a little, sitting closer.

“Have you disappointed many people with your recommendations?”

“Oh, I make it a personal mission to never leave anyone disappointed,” you say, your voice low and sweet like honey. His eyes move to your mouth. You sweep your tongue over your bottom lip. “Derek said your friends are trying to get you to loosen up; can I ask why?” He flicks his eyes up to yours, frowns a little, like he’s not sure that’s something he’s ready to tell you; ultimately, he just sighs.

“I’ve been divorced for five years, alone for five years. They think it’s time I…” He trails off, shrugs.

“Get back in the saddle?” you offer, and he laughs lightly, agrees. “Is that something you’re interested in? You shouldn’t feel pressured into it if you’re not ready.” You might want to sleep with him so badly it’s sickening, but not at the expense of his well-being.

He exhales deeply and lifts his arm to rest it on the back of your chair; you want to smile, but the conversation doesn’t call for it, so you hold off.

“I think I’m ready, but how do you really know?” You turn toward him a little more, lean against his arm; it feels easy, comfortable, almost like a real date and not you flirting like your life depends on it and hoping to get a bite.

“I think you should wait to meet someone who makes you feel a spark, and then explore it. Maybe it burns hot, but doesn’t last. Maybe it’s a slow burn. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I think when you’re really ready to put yourself out there, you’ll know.” He holds your gaze, wets his lips, takes a breath.

“You’ve been flirting with me.” You do smile a little, then.

“Yes, Aaron, I have.”

“Did Derek put you up to it?”

“Absolutely not.” You touch his arm again, gentle, lean in close. “I’m genuinely interested in you. You’re everything I’m attracted to in a man.” His smile doesn’t touch his eyes.

“Old and uptight?”

“Older, and kind, and capable of having a conversation about more than just sports and money, and handsome. Very handsome.” You lift your fingers from his arm, brush them through his hair over his temple. “I feel a spark. Do you?”

“Yes,” he breathes, and when you set your hand on the table, he covers it carefully with his. His hand is big, warm, softer than you’d expected, and you’re met with the sudden urge to feel it all over your body. “I feel a spark.”

“Good. Do you want to come home with me tonight? No strings attached—just to get you back in the saddle,” you say with a tilt of your head, and he nods.

“I want to.” You’re certain that the smile that crosses your face is softer, inviting, but you get the feeling he won’t kiss you while his friends could be watching. You’re actually surprised he’s touching you so openly.

“Okay, so why don’t you give me a ride home? I was going to have to call an Uber, since my friend didn’t show up, but you’re a gentleman, aren’t you? You wouldn’t let me do that.” He catches on to what you’re saying, the excuse you’re giving him to give his friends, makes a noise of understanding.

“Of course. I wouldn’t rest not knowing you made it home safely.”

“I’m not sure how much rest you’ll be getting tonight,” you murmur, and you rest your free hand on his thigh under the table, squeeze a little. He’s very firm, and you kind of melt. “But that’s a very sweet sentiment, Aaron. Are you committed to staying here much longer?”

“Not at all. Would you like to leave now?” You hold his gaze for a moment, want to be really sure about this; you’re no expert on body language, but you’ve been here before, and he really does look less tense than when you first showed up, more comfortable and open. All really good signs.

“Yes, please.” He squeezes your hand, then stands, smooths out his jacket, and tells you he’ll be right back while he goes to say goodbye to his friends. You stand too, finish what’s left of your drink, and pull out your phone to text Jay.

Taking home the most incredible man. Guess I don’t need my wingwoman after all.

J: Tell grandpa I said he better treat you right.

Please. He’s not that old. If anything, you can call him daddy. :P

J: You can call him daddy. Have fun ;) The ride to your apartment starts out quiet, but you try to fill it by asking Aaron more about himself. You keep your hands on him while you chat, leaning as close to him as you can while wearing your seatbelt, running your hand up and down his leg, over his arm while he shifts gears. You know it’s turning you on, and you’re fairly certain it’s turning him on as well.

You learn more about his job, that he basically solves crimes by judging people, which is kind of funny; before that, he was a lawyer, which you can definitely see. He has one child, a daughter who’s upset with him because of the divorce (someone’s dad, check), and a brother who lives in New York, no living parents. It’s more information than you usually get out of someone you plan to sleep with, but you really do like him, and since he’s not the one night stand type, you think more conversation is the right way to go.

He asks about you too, about your family and your job and your lame friend who bailed on you, and when he arrives outside your building, parks in the lot, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean in closer, smoothing a hand over his waist.

“I’m really glad I met you tonight,” you breathe, looking up at him, and he puts his hand on your cheek and you meet for a slow, easy kiss. “Hmm. I knew you’d be good at that.”

“I knew you’d be good at that, too. You have the most beautiful lips.” He brushes his fingers over them, and you take his hand, bring two of them into your mouth to suck softly. His breath hitches, and you feel your panties getting damp. God, he’s gorgeous. “Let’s go inside,” he whispers, and you slip his fingers out, drop a hand to his lap where he’s—oh, so perfectly hard it’s unreal.

“We could get started out here, have a little adventure,” you say playfully, fully prepared for him to say he’d rather not, but he just licks his lips and looks at you like you’re going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die happily. That’s another look you’re a huge fan of on an older man.

You undo his belt, his button and his zipper, pull his cock out of his pants; he’s of average length, thick, makes your mouth water, and you lean in to use that to your advantage, getting him wet with your saliva and then stroking him in your hand. You look up at his face, and he’s got his eyes closed, head back against the headrest—so fucking sexy. You reach your free hand under his shirt, where he’s hairy, strong, but a little soft, just the way you like it, and he opens his eyes and pulls you close for a kiss that’s a bit harder than the last.

“You’re absolutely perfect,” he sighs against your lips, and you press closer for another kiss. You almost regret the adventure comment now, because you want to undress him, and touch him, feel him all over, but you’ll just have to be patient. (That’s never been your strong suit.)

“Are you kidding? You are… everything. If I could build a dream man, he would literally be a copy of you.” He makes a sharp, self-deprecating sound, and you lean down to get him wetter, move your hand a little faster. “I’m completely serious. I’m a little upset I’ve been going to that bar for so long and our paths never crossed.” One of his hands moves to your hair, and he pulls you close for a kiss; he’s ready to come, you can tell, and you want him to more than anything, so you cover his hand with yours and dip your head, sucking his dick like you’re desperate for it. When it comes to Aaron, you’re kind of desperate for everything.

“Oh, god. That feels so good, baby.” You moan at the pet name—is there anything better in the world than an older man calling you baby? Maybe just Aaron specifically calling you baby—and he tightens his fingers in your hair while you glide over him, tight and wet, until he comes in your mouth.

You swallow it down, pull off breathless, and then swipe your tongue over him so he’s clean enough that you can tuck him back into his pants. You look up at him from his lap, and he’s panting too, rubs his fingers over your lips, your chin, down your throat. You’re desperately horny now, soaking wet, and when you shift to sit up, he catches you for a deep, steamy kiss, and that does nothing to help your situation.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and ugh, your heart flutters. Seriously, who created this man? He’s incredible. “Now let’s go inside so I can make you come, too.”

“Definitely,” you agree with a nod, and you kiss him once more before pulling back and climbing out of the car, straightening yourself up. He does the same, then walks over to you, takes your hand, and follows you into your apartment.

Sex with Aaron is… talk about adventure. He fucks like—well, like he hasn’t done it in over five years. As soon as you get inside the door, he gets on his knees, pulls your panties down, lifts your skirt up, and eats your pussy with such enthusiasm you come with your hands in his hair, rocking against his face, in less than three minutes. Seeing him down on the ground in the full suit, just going to town on you, is not an image you’ll soon forget, that’s for sure.

After that, the two of you stumble to your bedroom, hands all over each other, tugging at zippers and discarding clothes—he has you keep your shoes on, and that makes you feel slutty like a porn star, and super hot—and you kiss, touch, moving your hands all over each other's bodies until he’s hard again. You stay in missionary, and after he slips on a condom from your bedside table, he slides into you, kisses your lips and your neck and your shoulders while he rolls his hips against yours.

It’s slow and sensual at first, and you drag your nails lightly across his back, tilt your head when he nips at your throat.

“Aaron, oh. You feel so good,” you breathe, scraping your fingers through his hair, and his thrusts get a little deeper, his kisses a little rougher.

“You’re incredible. So gorgeous.” He moves a hand to your breast, massages it while your bodies work; you hitch your legs up higher, moan, and pull him closer, your hands on his body, and he fucks into you more frantically, humping against you hard, wildly. You’ve never really gotten fuck you like an animal, but that’s kind of what he’s doing, and you’re into it, clinging to him, pushing into his thrusts like it’s possible to take him deeper than you are now.

God, he’s going to spoil you, ruin you for all other men. You’re going to have your best sex at 28 and then be chasing this feeling the rest of your goddamn life. It’s both amazing and horribly unfair.

“Yes, Aaron, yeah. Fuck me hard, fuck me deep.” He groans, pounds inside you, moves his hand from your breast to the back of your neck and stares down into your eyes while he absolutely destroys you. You come clenching around him, pulling his hair and digging your nails into his shoulder, and his mouth comes crashing down for a kiss while he thrusts through it and then stutters, his orgasm right behind yours.

You sag against the pillow behind your head, and he puts his weight on you, hand still clamped around the nape of your neck, and breathes hot against your throat.

You stare up at the ceiling, catching your breath, and thank fucking god Jay stood you up tonight. Aaron is very sweet, kissing you and holding you, murmuring against your skin, and the two of you go to the bathroom, get cleaned up, and then raid your kitchen for snacks, talking easily and laughing. He doesn’t look like he’s about to bolt, which you’d been a little worried about; in fact, he actually suggests taking your snacks back to bed, jokes about not getting any crumbs on your white sheets. Never one to kick a man out abruptly after sex, and especially not a man like Aaron, you agree, and you end up in bed again, which means…

Another frantically torn condom wrapper later, and you’re on your stomach, your nipples rubbing against the sheets. Aaron’s hands are on your ass while you work yourself on his cock, rolling your body, moaning desperately like you aren’t already two orgasms deep; his dick hits just right, and between that and the nipple stimulation you’re coming fast, bucking hard against him so he’ll follow.

“Fuck, baby, coming already?” He tightens his grip, slams inside you, plants one hand on the bed to change his angle a bit. “Let’s try for another; your body is so perfect, built for sex, built for me.” You groan, roll your eyes back because his dirty talk is hitting the spot, and the two of you fuck together, noisy and eager and hot, until he shudders, squeezes your ass hard and starts to come.

You’re so close, right on the edge, and you sound wild because of it, your moans high, whimpering, your fingers digging into the sheets.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you beg, grinding against him, and he puts both hands hard on your hips, rails you into the bed.

“I’m not stopping until you come for me. Come for me,” he murmurs, and he wraps one hand around the front of your body, rubs your clit, and you climax, squeezing your eyes shut, seeing stars. You moan his name, drop your hand to cover his where it rests against your pussy, and this time when his body drapes across your back like a weighted blanket, you sigh and close your eyes.

He kisses your back and shoulders, runs his big hands over your hips and ass, then slides off and guides you to the edge of the bed, lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. You think absently that you could get used to being treated this well, and you must say it, because he presses a kiss to your lips and whispers, “I will if you let me.”

There’s a little talk in bed, after you’re cleaned up and cozy beneath the comforter, about going on a real date; Aaron seems nervous, like he thinks you won’t go for it, that all you wanted was this night of sex. And yes, while that’s typically your MO, something about Aaron is different. He makes you want more, things like dates and picnics and sweet lovemaking at night and kisses—all the kisses, everywhere, all the time.

You ask him to stay, and he promises he will, and you fall asleep in his arms. It’s the best you’ve felt in a really long time.

You wake up to Aaron’s sleepy, handsome face, and you kiss and smile into each other’s lips, because last night was great, but this is even greater. Your plan is to take a shower together and then go out for breakfast, but there’s a knock at your door just as you’re planning to step in.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” you tell him with a kiss, and you pull on your robe and peer through the peephole, then pull the door open. “Well, well; now you decide to show up.”

Jay steps in with a box of doughnuts and two cups of coffee, looking properly shamed.

“I know, I’m a horrible friend. I broke the slut code: stay slutty, but never at the expense of your best girl.” You crack a smile, because you could never really be mad at her, but especially not after last night. You’re about to say that, but she looks over your shoulder at the clothes still strewn about your living room and grins. “Holy shit. Is your old man still here?”

“He’s not an old man, and yes, he’s in the shower, so shut up.” She shoves the doughnuts and coffee carrier into your hands and brushes past you, toward your bedroom, and you groan. “Jay, no, come on.”

“I just want to get a glimpse of him,” she says, peeking her head into your room. She sees more clothes, and the condom wrappers, looks back at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Okay, someone had a good time last night.”

“Yes, it was fucking incredible. He’s a sex god, I’m not even kidding. He ate my pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in months, then fucked me twice, so hard and sexy, and then he asked me if he could take me on a date, Jay.” You smile wide, can’t help it. “I really like him, so I actually owe you for not coming out last night.” She smiles back, pulls you close for a hug, and you step back with your hands on her shoulders. “So thank you, and thanks for coming to apologize, but can you please leave? I really don’t want to miss out on some potential good morning shower sex.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s all from a place of love, and she turns to head out of your room.

“Okay, but only because cockblocking you would mean breaking the slut code again, and I can’t have my membership card revoked. I have a date with the almost frat boy again tonight.” She grins, and you shake your head, pull off your robe when you hear the door shut and head for the shower.

Good morning shower sex has never been so good. One month and twelve dates later, and you’re head over heels for Aaron. He is so sweet, and smart, and secretly funny, the perfect gentleman when you’re in public and an absolute manic in private, and you seriously could not have imagined a more perfect man.

Jay is maybe a little tired of hearing you talk about him.

You’re out for breakfast on a Saturday morning—Aaron is on a case in Indiana, or you’d probably be with him—and she sighs around a bite of french toast.

“I get it, he’s the best lay you’ve ever had in your life. He makes your pussy wet and your heart horny, or whatever. When do I get to meet the old man who’s got you wrapped around his big sexy fingers?”

“He’s supposed to be home tonight, maybe I’ll see if he’s feeling up to drinks?” Sometimes he’s really worn out after these cases, and you don’t blame him, but occasionally they must touch him in a way that makes him want to enjoy life, because you’ve had some nice dates the same day he gets back. You’ll ask, and if he’s not up for it, you’ll reschedule.

“Ooh, yes. I can’t wait to finally get a good look at the hunk who turned my maneater best friend into a monogamous whore.” You gasp, affronted, and she cackles, takes a sip of her iced coffee. Sometimes you can’t even remember why you’re friends—but she never fails to do something completely unexpected and sweet that reminds you eventually. “Hey, maybe now that you’re obsessed with this guy, you can finally meet my dad, since I don’t have to worry about you trying to suck his dick at first sight.”

You know that Jay’s relationship with her dad has been a little rough since her parents split up, and you’ve always thought that maybe you could get her to open up to him, to talk to him, if you could get to know him, but her fears about your taste for older men have always been hilariously real. As if you can’t control yourself; as if you’d ever actually date her dad.

“Well I’ll have to ask my old man; maybe he’s down for a threesome?” It’s her turn to act offended, and you laugh and send Aaron a text about this evening before you forget.

Can’t wait to meet the infamous Jay, he replies, and you won’t lie, you’re feeling really good about your two favorite people finally getting to know each other.

That night, you and Aaron beat Jay to the bar, because of course you do—that bitch is never on time for anything.

You’re feeling cute in a sexy turtleneck dress (the neck of which Aaron tugged down to place a hickey under when you rode him on the couch before coming here) and a set of earrings he bought you—you’re wearing a set of lingerie he bought you, too for later—and he looks gorgeous in a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

You can barely keep your hands off of him, squeezing his thigh, kissing his neck; you only give him an inch of space when he gets up to run to the restroom, and even then, the way he smiles and presses his lips to yours before he goes makes you want to cancel drinks and take him home so you can be alone.

But Jay asked to meet him, and you have been a little obsessed lately, so you want to do this and make her happy.

You look down at your phone, ready to hit her with some inflammatory where the fuck are you??? texts, when she drops into the seat Aaron had just vacated, breathless.

“Sorry, sorry. Traffic was really bad, and I got into this huge fight with my mom on the phone...” She pulls off her jacket, drapes it over the back of the seat.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concerned. The two of them usually get along pretty well.

“Yeah, she’s just pissed because my dad has a new girlfriend—which is stupid, because she’s the one who wanted to divorce him, so why does she care? But anyway, I told her I’d meet her and be nice to her, because it’s important to him, and she expects me to take her side or something. I don’t know. Let’s just say I’m really glad I’m out for drinks with you and your old man so I can forget about my problems for a while.” She takes a deep breath for practically the first time since she started talking, then looks around, realizes it’s just the two of you. “Hey, where is he, anyway?”

“Restroom,” you say with a smile, but something more must creep onto your face, because she rolls her eyes playfully.

“And you didn’t follow him in there for a little stall action?”

“Ew, no. That’s more your speed than mine; we had sex before we came, anyway, look at this hickey.” You pull the neck of your dress down and she whistles, impressed.

“Congrats on having such good pussy, babe. I know you’re sickeningly obsessed with him, but it looks to me like he’s got it bad for you too.” You grin, instinctively want to gush over him, but you see him walking over out of the corner of your eye, so you hold off.

He’s frowning, though, and you’re not sure why.

“Julie?” Jay whips her head around at the sound of Aaron’s voice, and her eyes get wide.

“Dad? What are you…” You stand up abruptly, looking up at Aaron, and Jay stands too, looking between you, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I… We…” He swallows, looks at you like you’ve both made a terrible mistake. You’re surprised how much that look hurts, but you know you have to take care of Jay before you can feel sorry for yourself.

“Jay, listen to me, okay? I swear to god I didn’t know.” You’re begging, pleading with your eyes, your hands on her shoulders. “I did not know.” She shakes her head like it’s not making sense, but when she lets herself connect the dots, she brings up a hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh my god. Are you fucking kidding me?” She pulls away from you, looking at you like you punched her in the face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Jay, I didn’t—”

“Julie,” Aaron says, reaching for her, but she steps back, palms up.

“I seriously can’t believe this. You two… After every joke we made about me keeping you away from him?” She looks at you like you betrayed her, and you exhale, shrug sadly.

“It’s not like I went looking for him, Jay. We just… found each other.” You don’t look at Aaron, because if the last month hasn’t meant the same things to him, you’ll have to be okay with that. “I know it’s shocking, and I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it feels like to find this out, this way.”

“You’re right, you can’t imagine. I just fought with my mom about my dad’s new girlfriend, and it’s-it’s you.” She laughs, humorless.

“You fought with your mom? When?” Aaron asks, crossing his arms, and it’s so clear how much he cares about Jay. Her eyes fly to his.

“On the fucking way here. She told me about your new slut girlfriend, and I was defending you! I told her I’d meet her if you asked me to, that I’d be nice because I know she’s important to you! And it’s you,” she practically spits, turning to you. “Such a whore that you’ll fuck anyone over forty who can still get it up, including my fucking father.” Her tone stings, and people are looking at the three of you, but you take a breath, remind yourself that she’s just angry right now, and she loves you, doesn’t mean that.

“Julie, that's enough. I’m taking you home and we can talk about this there.” Aaron steps past her, picks up her jacket, and glances over at you, but you’re collecting your things and and pulling up a rideshare app to get yourself the fuck out of there.

You head for the bathroom to wait it out until your ride comes, and you definitely don’t cry because the two people who bring you the most happiness in the world are gone and they barely even looked back. It’s five days before Jay shows up at your door with apology doughnuts and a bottle of rosé. You eat and drink and cry on each other, and then laugh at each other, and your heart feels a little healed by the end of it.

“I’m sorry I called you a whore. It’s just… what are the odds, after everything we said, that you would actually hook up with my fucking dad.” You laugh and take the last bite of your doughnut.

“You don’t think I was a little startled by that turn of events? I was as shocked as you. I knew he had a daughter around my age, but that’s not really what we talked about, you know?” She shoves half a doughnut in her mouth and cackles.

“You don’t talk a whole lot, from what I’ve gathered.”

“Didn’t,” you say, and your whole mood shifts. She looks confused. “We didn’t talk a whole lot. He hasn’t spoken to me since the night you found out.” She pulls out her phone, starts texting.

“Okay, I told him I was okay with you guys like, two days ago, so this probably means he’s spiraling. He tends to do that—get in his own head and beat himself up for things that aren’t his fault.” She looks up from her phone, gives you a soft smile. “Will you forgive me if I tell you he’s moping at home right now, and that I know he’ll be happy to see you?” You roll your eyes a little.

“I already forgive you, Jay, but if he hasn’t called me, maybe there’s a reason. Maybe he was looking for an out, and I gave him one, or maybe he can’t feel the same way I do because he knows we’re friends.”

“He told my mom about you, remember? He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t serious about you, and I don’t think he’d be acting this emo if he didn’t have feelings for you.” She reaches out, covers your hands with hers. “I’m really, really sorry I fucked this up for you guys. Weirdness aside, I know what good people you both are, and I hate that you were happy and I took that from you guys. I’m 100% supportive of you being my future step-mom,” she says with a grin, and you roll your eyes again and give her a hug and then jump up to get a shower.

You’re going to go get your old man.

When you knock on Aaron’s door an hour later, he looks surprised to see you.

“I thought you’d be Julie,” he says softly, and you sigh.

“I know. She sent me. She wants us to get our heads out of our asses, but I told her I don’t know where your head is, because we haven’t spoken.” Seeing him makes you feel a little better, because he does look like he may have been moping the last few days, so that must mean the spark is still there, right? “If you want me to leave, just tell me, and I’ll go; I’ll get out of your life and you can pretend it was just a casual thing, if that’s what you want.” Your heart aches at the thought, but you’d understand, if being his daughter’s best friend is an obstacle he can’t overcome.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says after a long, painfully drawn out moment. “I don’t want you to ever leave. And I could never pretend this was casual.” He steps forward—so handsome in a t-shirt and jeans it makes you long to press kisses all over his face, to hold him and be held by him—and his eyes are trained on yours. “I know nothing about us is conventional, but it doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t matter to you. I want to be with you.”

You take a deep, calming breath, exhale and nod. Your hands ache to reach out and touch him.

“I want to be with you, but only if you can promise that if something comes up with Jay—Julie—we can figure it out together. I don’t ever want to feel the way I felt the other night, and while I get that you had to take care of your daughter, and I’m glad you two talked things out, I can’t just be abandoned if things get weird.” You approach him, wrap your arms around him, and sigh. He hugs you so tightly, rests his cheek against the top of your head.

“I promise. I know I could have handled that better, but the situation was just so...”

“I know, that’s okay. Family comes first—but just so you know, she gave me her full support to campaign to become her new step-mom,” you say, pulling back with a teasing smile, and he shakes his head and grins. “So, one last question: Are you ready to get back in the saddle, Aaron?” He leans in and kisses you so hard you’re breathless, weaves his fingers into your hair.

“Sounds like my kind of adventure.” Message sent with high importance: Do not disturb! Your dad’s indecent.

J: Gross. Thanks for the warning, mom.

That’s step-mom, to you. Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed