#but that actually helped a lot too because it kinda made it feel like a theme park ride rather than a Real Plane?? 😂💦

[alisonsfics]

overheard

pairing: bucky barnes x thunderbolts!reader

summary: alexei persuades the thunderbolts team that they need to throw a costume party at the tower. your costume has a certain effect on a certain super soldier, but he’s too stubborn to admit it. you go to talk to him after the party and find him masturbating to the thought of you.

word count: 3.7k

warnings:⚠️thunderbolts spoilers (barely)⚠️ smut, unprotected sex, masturbating (male, reader watches, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f recieving), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, size kink kinda, just pure filth, minors dni (18+ ONLY)

“C’mon, we are the Thunderbolts. Throwing fun party is perk of being superheroes.” Alexei said, trying to convince the group to host a costume party at Avengers Tower.

Alexei was standing up in front of all of you while you sat on the couch. “A costume party? Really?” Bucky asked, his disgust clear in his voice.

“Who knew the world famous Winter Soldier would be a party pooper?” Alexei said, frowning at Bucky.

Bucky glanced over at you for help. You were sitting right next to him as his arm rested behind you on the couch. “I’m with Bucky on this one.” You agreed.

There were a couple of scoffs from the group. “Oh, we’re really surprised.” John said, sarcastically.

“What the hell does that mean?” Bucky snapped, jumping to your defense.

John stared back at him. He knew there was no way Bucky was actually oblivious enough to not see the fact that you both liked each other. “Calm down, Buck. Nobody’s trying to take your girl. I’m just saying you two are practically inseparable.” He elaborated.

Bucky shifted in his seat. He hated when the others tried to analyze his relationship with you. “I vote in favor of your party. These two need to loosen up and have some fun.” Yelena said, pointing at you and Bucky.

“I agree.” John and Ava both echoed.

Alexei’s hands shot up in the air in victory. “A party set for heroes.” He cheered.

Bucky huffed and stormed away to his room.

“Nice going, Walker.” You said, flicking him in the forehead. Of course John was right about all of it. You and Bucky had been best friends since Steve introduced the two of you back in the day. And sure, you liked him, you liked him a lot.

But it was way too complicated.

You were in such a good spot with Bucky recently, and you felt so comfortable with him that you didn’t want to mess that up.

“C’mon, he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Yelena defended John.

“Are you really going to try to tell us that you have absolutely no romantic feelings for Bucky?” Ava added.

You were stuck. You couldn’t say anything, but you knew they were right. They knew they were right too. They didn’t need you to confirm it to know that the way you and Bucky looked at each other was nothing short of lovestruck.

“Maybe you all should stay out of my relationship with Bucky because it’s none of your business.” You snapped, walking off in a hurry.

You got to Bucky’s bedroom door and knocked softly. “Come in,” he called from the other side of the door. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

Bucky was sitting on the side of his bed with his head in his hands. “Hi, doll,” he said, when he finally looked up to see it was you.

The smile he gave you went straight to your gut and made your stomach do flips. You sat beside him. He kept his eyes trained on the floor instead of looking at you.

You grabbed his hand and held it in your lap. It was like there was an electric current pulsing between his hand and yours. He slowly interlaced your fingers. “Don’t let John get to you.” You whispered.

Bucky leaned his head over on your shoulder. He may have been six feet tall and made of pure muscle, but he was practically butter in your hands. You were Bucky’s one weak spot.

You used your free hand to run your fingers through his hair. He almost moaned as your nails scratched against his scalp.

He knew he wanted more from his relationship with you, but he couldn’t risk what you had.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, needing to be closer to you.

He scooped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap, so you were straddling him. You giggled to yourself at how clingy he was being.

“What’s so funny?” He asked you. You shook your head, dismissing it. “If John could see you right now. He’d tell you that you were full of shit out there.” You joked, looking down at him as you rested your hands on his shoulders.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about him right now.” He said, nestling his face into your neck. His arms stayed wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

You both stayed like that for a while, you weren’t sure how long it had been.

You were Bucky's peace. He treasured any moment he got to be that close to you.

“So what do you think about this costume party tonight?” You asked him, softly scratching up and down his back. He shuddered under your touch. “I don’t really think I have a choice.” He mumbled against your skin.

You got up off his lap. “Maybe it’ll be fun,” You suggested, trying to cheer Bucky up.

He missed your warmth the second you left. You went back to your room to find a costume, and he collapsed back onto his bed.

He wondered how he’d survive being around you any longer without telling you how he felt.

On your way back to your room, you passed the living room and saw the rest of the team still hanging out.

You caught Yelena’s eye and waved her over to you. She snuck away from the group, and they carried on with their conversation.

You grabbed her forearm and tugged her behind you. “Am I going to help you pick out a costume to impress Bucky tonight?” She asked as you dragged her across the compound.

As soon as your cheeks turned pink, Yelena knew she was right.

A couple hours later, you were standing in the room admiring the costume you and Yelena had picked out. She’d suggested you dress as a dark angel. You bought a black lace corset top and ruffled short black skirt. Then, Yelena found an old pair of black wings and a black choker for you to wear.

As you stared in the mirror, you started to rethink the whole idea.

It was a great costume. Even you knew you looked hot. But you didn’t know if it was too much. Like what if Bucky thought you were trying too hard.

You headed downstairs to the party before you could change your mind.

Bucky was standing against a wall talking to Sam, when he saw you. He felt the words stolen from his lips as you left him speechless. Sam followed his gaze and saw you walking down the stairs. Bucky couldn’t remember what he and Sam were talking about. All he could focus on was the way your corset was hugging your form.

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Sam teased, patting Bucky on the back.

You skillfully weaved your way through the crowd towards Bucky.

“Uh hi, doll,” his breath got caught in his throat.

His gaze rolled down your body. All he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and kiss every inch of your skin.

“You look…wow, I mean” Bucky was completely losing his ability to talk around you.

“Thanks, Bucky.” You said, doing a twirl for him. He was wrapped around your finger and ready to worship the ground you walked on.

“How about I go get you a drink?” He suggested. His brain had gone fuzzy, and he needed to get away from you before he made a fool of himself. You nodded and thanked him, making sure to look up at him through your eyelashes.

Bucky didn’t know what had gotten into him tonight.

“You’re here? I was starting to think you’d bailed.” Someone exclaimed beside you.

You turned to see John walking towards you, dressed in a very bad pirate costume. The only part that was good was his eyeliner, which you assumed Yelena helped with.

John stuttered as he finally got a good look at your outfit. “You look really pretty.” He mumbled. Even if he hadn’t been slurring his words, you’d know he was drunk because he was complimenting you. He never did that sober.

“C’mere,” he said, grabbing your hand and tugging you behind him.

He pulled you over to a bench a few feet away and sat down. “What’re you doing?” You hesitated. He frowned up at you and patted the seat beside him.

He leaned in closer to you, brushing his lips against your ear. “You want to make Bucky jealous or what? You gotta play along.” He whispered.

You jumped as he rested his hand on your knee. “John, this’ll never work.” You protested. He shook his head. “He’s been drooling over from the bar over there. It’ll work.” He argued.

You saw Bucky heading back towards you. “Fuck it,” you mumbled.

You pretended to giggle at something John said, and slowly brushed your fingers through his hair. He leaned in closer to you, letting his hand sneak up your thigh.

“Oh, Bucky!” John pretended to finally notice him standing next to you both.

“Walker,” Bucky greeted bluntly.

“Doesn’t she look amazing tonight? I mean, oh my god.” John said.

Bucky’s grip on the two glasses tightened. He clenched his jaw as he looked at where John’s hand was placed on your thigh. “Yeah, she really does. Do you mind?” He snapped, cocking his head to the side.

“Oh yeah yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” John lied as he rejoined the crowd.

“Here you go, doll.” Bucky said, handing you your drink and taking John’s place on the bench.

“Thank you,” you said, softly. You let your hand wrap around his forearm and rested your head on his shoulder. He melted into your touch.

“Walker's such an asshole.” Bucky grumbled to himself.

You bit your tongue to stop from laughing. “Oh really? For what exactly?” You asked. Bucky sat in silence, slowly realizing John hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you, doll?” He complained. You sat up straight and saw how tense he looked. You interlocked your fingers with his. “Why can’t you just tell me the real reason you’re mad at him?” You asked.

Bucky blinked at you with a blank stare. “Wh-what do you mean?” He asked.

“You’re just jealous. It’s okay to admit it.” You tried to encourage him.

He started to distance himself. He couldn’t admit his feelings to you. But he didn’t know a way out of this conversation. He pulled his hand away from you and stormed off.

Bucky sulked in the corner for the rest of the party. You made a point to spend more time with John that you normally would have. Every time you caught Bucky’s eye, he pretended he hadn’t been staring.

Eventually, he stormed away to his room when he couldn’t take anymore.

After the party ended, the only thing you could think about was talking to Bucky.

You and Bucky never fought, and you hated the thought of him being mad at you. You knew flirting with John was petty, but you were really just desperate for Bucky to make a move already. You’d liked him for so long.

You walked down the quiet corridor towards Bucky's room. You didn’t know what you’d say. You didn’t even know if he was still awake.

You walked up to his door and saw that it was cracked open about an inch. Looking through the crack, you saw Bucky lying on his bed. You nearly choked when you noticed he was, in fact, not sleeping.

He was lying on his bed, with his legs dangling over the edge. His hand was shoved down the front of his pants, softly tugging on his cock. You could hear low moans coming from him as his hand started to move faster.

You tried to quietly back away but then you heard your name.

You panicked. Had he spotted you?

You looked back at him and saw his eyes were still closed. Your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t calling your name, he was moaning it.

What were you supposed to do?

It was wrong to just watch, but your feet stayed planted. You tried furiously to get your legs to move, but couldn’t. If Bucky caught you, it would end your friendship.

Then, your name again, followed his a long string of swearing.

“Fuck, doll. You look so fucking good. Oh my god, your tits in this dress? Can’t think straight around you. All I can think about is fucking your tight little cunt while you wear this outfit. Oh, so fucking tight for me.” He moaned.

Heat was radiating off your skin. A warmth pooling in between your thighs. The dirty words fed into your confidence.

You tiptoed into the room, quietly shutting the door behind you. Bucky was so distracted that he didn’t even hear you.

You grabbed his wrist, causing his eyes to shoot open. “Doll? Oh fuck!” He exclaimed. Bucky's heart had never beaten this fast. He panicked, trying to think of an excuse.

“You want to cum, baby?” You asked, running your fingers across his thighs.

“Wh-what?” He stuttered the word. He couldn’t actually process what was happening.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I can see how much need it.” You told him, kneeling in front of him.

If it was possible, Bucky’s eyes got even wider. He bunched up the sheets in his hands, bracing for whatever came next. You slid his pants and boxers down his legs and threw them to the side.

You licked a stripe along the underside of his cock. “That feel good?” You asked him, pretending you didn’t already know the answer.

He furiously nodded his head. “Gotta use your words,” you teased, pressing kisses against his inner thigh.

“Yes, oh fuck, doll. You feel like heaven. Please just make me cum.” He begged you. You wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

His salty precum coated your mouth. You took more of him into your mouth, until his cock brushed up against the back of your throat. Bucky glanced down at you taking all of him. Your eyes started to water, smudging your mascara.

“Taking me so well, good girl,” he praised. He held you still while he shoved himself further into your throat. His whole body shuddered and your name fell from his lips.

You used to your free hands to massage his balls, while he continued ramming his hips against you. “Letting me fuck your sweet little mouth. I’m not gonna last long.” He moaned, as his hips stuttered.

His thrusts sped up, and you felt him twitch in your mouth. His eyes started to flutter shut. You felt cocky watching the effect you had on him.

You pulled your mouth off of him with a popping sound, and wrapped your hand around his length. His hips bucked up against your hand.

All he needed was a little encouragement.

“C’mon, baby. I know you can do it. Let go for me. You wanna cum all over my tits? I heard you talking about them.” You coached him.

A choked groan left his lips as his hips bucked up and he shot warm ropes onto your chest. Bucky struggled to catch his breath. He collapsed back on the bed, sweating and panting.

He looked down at your doe eyes and swollen lips. “You look so fucking sexy right now.” He said, reaching out to smooth out your hair. His hands snaked down to your waist, picking you up and plopping you down on his thigh.

You squealed feeling the contact of his thigh against the wet patch growing in your panties. He started to smirk. “You that desperate for me that even my thigh can make you feel good?” He whispered against your lips.

He pushed his thigh up against you again. This time, a low moan escaped your lips. He softly kissed your shoulders. “Guess I should repay for you for letting me cover these sweet tits. You look so beautiful like this.” He praised.

You rolled your hips against his thigh. “I need to cum, Buck. Please,” you begged him. Goosebumps ran up and down his body as he heard the neediness in your voice.

He didn’t even waste the time to remove your panties. His metal digits slipped under your skirt, caressing your thigh.

He brushed his thumb against the wet patch that was growing in your panties. You moaned his name, sinking your nails into his shoulders. “You’re soaked, doll.” Bucky groaned.

His fingers snuck into your panties. His cold fingers were a stark contrast to the burning between your legs. He ran a finger through your folds. You felt your hips squirm against his hand.

The room felt like it was spinning. All you could focus was Bucky luring you closer and closer to your high. He was only using one finger, and you already felt that familiar feeling building in your stomach.

You harshly pushed your hips against his hand. “You hungry for more? You gonna take everything I give you?” He asked. You furiously nodded your head as you bit down on your lip. “I’ll take it so well, I promise. I can handle it.” You moaned.

He added another finger. You rested your forehead against his shoulder. You continued rolling your hips against him, seeing how it affected him. You could feel his erection pressing up against your knee. “God, doll. I’m gonna cum just watching you hump my hand like this.” He moaned.

You jumped when you felt his thumb start rubbing tight circles on your clit. They started slow but sped up. “Bucky, Bucky, oh my god…I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You yelled as your orgasm hit you.

He clasped his other hand over your mouth, trying to keep you quiet. His fingers slowed down helping you come down from your high. “Such a good job, doll.” He said, kissing your temple.

He pulled his hand out from under your skirt. His fingers were dripping with your arousal. “You made such a mess, doll. You gonna clean this up for me?” He asked, moving his other hand away from your mouth.

You looked into his blue eyes as he slid his fingers into your mouth. You closed your lips around them, tasting yourself on him was like a drug.

He pulled his fingers away from you and pressed a kiss against your lips. He nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to whine.

“Please, Bucky?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Can you take another one, doll?” He asked, pulling out of the kiss.

You nodded your head. “Please. I can take it.” You pleaded.

He picked you up with ease and laid you down on the bed. You tried to undo the laces of your corset, but Bucky grabbed your hands and stopped you.

“This dress got me all worked up. I’m gonna fuck you while you wear it.” He growled, bunching your dress up around your hips. You nodded in agreement as he ripped his own shirt off over his head.

“You ready, doll?” He asked you, protectively. You quickly mumbled a “yes”.

He grabbed your hips and pushed his length into you. Your eyes rolled back. You grasped for the sheets or anything you could get your hands on.

He felt so much bigger than you imagined he would. “Can’t take anymore. It won’t fit.” You mumbled. It felt like he was splitting you open. He slowly pushed the rest of his cock into you until he bottomed out. “Look at you taking all of me. You fit me so well.” He said.

Your eyes opened and immediately went to where his cock was buried in your pussy.

You missed the warmth when he pulled himself out, but it wasn’t long until he pushed his cock back through your folds. His thrusts were deep, reaching deeper inside you each time.

You clung to his shoulders. His hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead as your bodies moved together. He fucked you into the mattress. The headboard thudded against the wall with each thrust.

His grunts only turned you on more. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The new angle only encouraged Bucky to go faster. He tightened his grip on your hips, slightly stinging the skin.

This was one of those moments where you were reminded of the super soldier serum coursing through Bucky’s veins.

He rammed into you faster and faster. “Fuck, doll. Your pretty little pussy is takin’ me so well.” He moaned.

His cock hit your g-spot. “Right there, Bucky,” you begged.

“Cum with me. Gonna look so pretty,” he mumbled. His cock brushed against your clit, making you felt dizzy. His metal fingers found your clit again, drawing figure eights.

You tried to tell him, but you were too busy panting. “I know, I’m close too.” He said, reading your mind. He sealed your lips with a kiss to muffle your moans.

You bucked your hips up against him. He swore against your lips.

Then, he pumped you full. You raked your nails down his back as you felt your orgasm rip through you.

He swore under his breath. He slowly peppered kisses across your face and then down your neck, while he slowed down his thrusts.

He collapsed next to you on the bed. “And my goal for the night was just to get you to kiss me.” You said, giggling as you looked over at Bucky. He was practically glowing.

“You should’ve known showing up in this outfit.” He said, running his fingers down the tight corset. You curled into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Do you think the others will figure it out tomorrow when I can’t walk at training?” You asked him.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah probably, if they didn’t hear you already.” He teased you. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks, despite your previous activities.

“Not that I’m complaining, of course. I fucking love hearing you like that.” He whispered in your ear.

“We should probably shower and get cleaned up, so maybe you have another chance.” you winked over at him. Bucky’s eyes went wide as he picked you up and practically ran into the bathroom.

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[angelsknifeprty]

imagine being loved by me . ۫ ꣑ৎ . - e.w

jackson!ellie x reader | 4.1k words

a/n: hiiii! i'm kinda nervous, this is my first time posting something smutty >.< i hope i did a good job, enjoy!

cw: nsfw, afab reader, cursing, smoking weed, they're both high but everything is completely consensual, nipple play (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), two idiots high as fuck and desperately in love ghhhfhgfj

summary: your relationship with ellie is a recent development, at the point now of teetering on the edge of the deep end, so close to becoming something more serious for you both. with the help of a some maybe a little too much weed and how irritatingly good she looks in that grey hoodie of hers, you might just take that plunge.

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

you knew it was a bad idea, to let yourself get this high with ellie. you’d done this so many times before, truly abusing the gift that was accidentally stumbling into eugene’s old weed den while out on patrol together once. but back then you were just friends, two lumbering idiots excited over this newfound high that had you both giggling until you gasped for air. now things are different.

your relationship was still new, its legs still a little shaky like those of a newborn fawn. but being with ellie started to feel as easy as breathing the longer you spent together, slowly but surely figuring out what that transition from friends to lovers meant for the both of you.

“do you want any more?” ellie asked through stifled coughs, extending out her hand that held the lit joint. through a lot of trial and error, you had figured out what your threshold was and tended not to push that limit, your mind already sinking into that floaty headspace you loved so much.

despite this you hummed in thought for a moment, your reddened eyes shifting to ellie lazily leaning against the outside wall of her garage. she was wearing that grey hoodie that made your jaw clench every time you saw her in it, how she made something so simple look so good was unknown to you. you certainly weren’t complaining though.

“hmm… you know what? sure,” you shrug before reaching for the joint, because who are you to say no when she looks like that? you feel that familiar pang in your stomach when your fingers brush against hers. you almost laugh out loud at how pathetic it feels to still react to her this way, not yet fully wrapping your head around the fact that she’s actually yours. 

you get lost in the fluidity of well-trained muscle memory, passing the joint back and forth. and before you know it you’re getting that rush of fuzziness in your brain that brings out that dopey smile of yours and giggles with no particular cause.

ellie looks at you with an amused smile, noticing the adorably dumb look in your glossy eyes. 

“you okay, baby?” she chuckles as she observes you in your blissed-out state. you hum contently, the sound of that name rolling so perfectly off of her tongue, nodding enthusiastically in response.

her tolerance is a lot higher than yours, which you always complained to her about as if she could transfer the trait to you, so she was enjoying the entertainment of you being high out of your mind.

“y’look so pretty, els,” you sigh, ellie’s chest tightening at the way you’re looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

“really?” she huffs out a laugh, “i look like shit.” she gives herself a once-over, her hair a little messy from a busy day in jackson and her comfort hoodie thrown carelessly over her clothes.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, unable to fathom how she could look anything other than devastatingly gorgeous right now. 

“nooo, shit looks like you!” you say in a poor attempt to rebuke her statement, your befuddled condition making you fumble your words.

“oh wow, so you do agree?”

“no, no, no, wait! i messed up what i was saying-”

“uh huh, sure. c’mon, let’s get you inside, dork.”

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

things were peaceful for a while, the two of you in a cosy embrace on ellie’s bed as she reread one of her favourite savage starlight comics. you were draped across her chest, mindlessly glancing at the pages, entertained by the colourful art but not quite absorbing any of the plot.

you then make the mistake of looking up at ellie, cheek squishing against her shoulder as you admire her. your gaze flowed down the outline of her side profile like a water droplet. it started at her forehead, a place you so often left tender kisses upon. it beads down between her scarred brows, which you thought made her look so frustratingly cool, trickling across the freckled slope of her nose where it then drops off of the tip, leaving your focus right where her lips are.

your stomach flutters; the only thing your brain can focus on is how badly you want to kiss her. she wasn’t even doing anything purposefully enticing, but she didn’t have to for you to lose your mind.

ellie could feel your watchful orbs practically burning holes through her, unable to keep herself from looking back at you any longer.

“see something interesting?” ellie startles you a little as she breaks the silence, rapidly blinking at her as you regain your bearings.

“hmm… interesting is one way to describe it.” your voice has a lilt to it, the sound light and a little shy. ellie thinks you’re so precious.

“whatcha lookin’ at, pretty?” she pries, enjoying it maybe a little too much as she watches you fumble at the question, eyes darting between anywhere else in the room and what you were truly captivated by: her lips.

“ellieee…” you whine, moving so your face is hidden in her neck. your breath fans over her skin in a warm gust, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she swallows thickly. fuck.

“c’mon, i know you want something.” she’s purposefully trying to rile you up, placing the bookmark you made for her between the pages of her comic, and tossing it to the side. she was far more interested in you now.

“says who?” you weakly argue back.

“uh, says the look on your face. you’re not very subtle, babe.”

in all fairness, what you wanted might as well have appeared in a comedic thought bubble above your head with how clearly it was written across your face.

you mumble a quiet, “shut up,” ellie having you completely cornered. a low chuckle rumbles in her chest, your defeat amusing her.

“can you look at me, please?” ellie’s voice is gentle, that teasing cadence still present but it’s overpowered by something softer. she doesn’t just want you to look at her, she needs you to.

you pull away from your hiding place in her neck, bashful bambi eyes looking up at her finally.

“there she is,” ellie coos and it makes your head spin. your eyes gravitate back down to her lips, unable to ignore the magnetic pull they seemed to have. she knew what you wanted and you knew she wanted it too, but ellie just had to make it hard for you.

“tell me what you want and you can have it,” she whispers playfully. a reluctant groan leaves your wanting lips, (loving) hating the way she found such obvious joy in watching you squirm under her gaze.

you ultimately give in, the frayed rope that was tethering you to what was left of your self-restraint promptly snapping.

“please kiss me.”

so she does, her lips on yours in one fluid motion as she reaches up to cup your jaw. you sigh contently against her mouth now that she’s finally freeing you from this waiting game, melting as you hungrily chase each other's lips.

you feel lightheaded by the time ellie is gently guiding you onto your back, caging you in from above as if hiding you from the rest of the world. she was devouring you, selfish and possessive as she kissed you with an urgency that had you wondering if your lips would bruise. you were undeniably hers and ellie needed you to know it. and of course, you did, you didn’t see how things could be any other way.

it felt like you were about to burst; you could feel her everywhere. her calloused hand holding your face so sweetly, the mind-numbing kisses she was firmly planting onto your lips, hoping that her imprint would take root there and ruin you for anybody else. the way her knee slotted between your thighs with ease, the roughness of her jeans rubbing against you, leaving a tingle on your skin.

ellie had stolen all of the breath from your lungs, gasping for air as you pulled away from her, chest heaving. soft pants filled the air, sharing breathy giggles between the two of you. 

“hi,” you say dumbly, that same dopey grin from earlier stretching across your kiss-swollen lips.

“hi,” she repeats back, freckled cheeks dusted with a pink tint as she looks at you with glimmering eyes.

she barely gives you time to catch your breath before she’s leaning in to trail burning hot kisses down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, the flesh there sensitive under her loving attack. then she reached that spot, one she had discovered recently, pride swelling up in her chest after you made a noise she hadn’t heard from you before. she desperately wanted to hear it again.

a gasp of her name escapes your lips as she sucks and bites on the area, squirming beneath her as you feel her smile against your neck.

“yeah? you need something, baby?” she sounded so fucking cocky. if only you knew the way her heart was racing inside its bony cage, butterflies- no, more like a swarm of wasps invading her stomach. you looked so pretty underneath her, you sounded it too. the little hitches in your breath and your high-pitched whines had her hooked. it was like she was experiencing a whole new high as she watched you grow needier beneath her.

“need you.” your breathless plea is all she requires before her lips are back on yours, determined and eager.

as attractive as she looked in it you needed her out of that damn hoodie, your grabby hands tugging at it as a silent request for her to take it off. of course ellie obliges, why would she ever deny you?

she retreats for a moment to yank the grey fabric over her head, her t-shirt riding up a little in the process and it has you reeling. you felt utterly depraved having such a visceral reaction to the sliver of skin, feeling that familiar ache forming between your legs at the sight.

she was back on you again in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. you wanted to feel her, to bask in her body’s warmth as she drew those pretty sounds from you that she couldn’t get enough of.

“more, i need to feel you closer, fuck please-” your curious hands are creeping their way under her shirt now, nails dragging gently up her back. you watch as she shivers at the sensation, her head hanging low as a shaky breath passes her lips.

she’d do whatever you asked her to right now, grasping the hem of her t-shirt before pulling it over her head. you can’t help but gawk at her, completely stupefied by the sight. this was new, your clothes had always remained on up until now.

ellie feels on fire under your gaze, your half-lidded stare trailing over the definition chiselled into her stomach. you’re trying to add up every freckle you could see scattered across her pale skin, too many for you to count but you desperately wanted to know the number anyway because you wanted to know her.

“can i take your shirt off?” she sounds desperate and it puts you at ease being able to hear that she wants you just as bad as you want her.

“please, ellie,” is all you breathe out before she’s keenly dragging your shirt over your head. her eyes might as well be completely black with how big her pupils have grown, the weed mixed with the heavenly sight of you sprawled out beneath her enough to make her dizzy.

intimacy like this was somewhat new territory for you both as a couple. only recently was it that your eager hands and desperate touches made their way beneath the barriers of cotton and denim, a wall you hadn’t fully breached yet until now. but with how good she was making you feel, you knew you needed more.

brick by brick you tore it down, discarding each other’s clothing until you were left in nothing but your underwear. ellie needed to see you, all of you, her fingers twitching as they inched closer to your bra. she asks to take it off and you’re nodding your head in agreement before she can even finish her sentence. your back arches to give her room to unclasp it, feeling it grow loose around you before it’s being slid down your arms. there you are.

ellie is sure you’ve cast a spell on her, entranced by the sight of you laid almost fully bare beneath her, watching the way your chest would rise and fall as you sucked in breaths.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” she rasps in a tone reminiscent of the whines she would relentlessly mock you for. you were too far gone now to comment on it but you noticed, you could tease her about it later.

she can’t bear to not have her lips on you any longer, leaning down to trail sweet kisses down your neck once more, only this time letting herself go lower and lower.

a pathetic mewl escapes you as you feel her mouth capture one of your hardened nipples, arching into her as she sucks it into the wet warmth of her mouth. everything is so sensitive right now, the joint you smoked earlier still serving its purpose incredibly well. 

you would let her eat you whole if she asked, addicted to the contrast of her soft lips and her biting teeth as they began to mark the supple swell of your tits. you had barely started and she already had you seeing stars, her knee experimentally pushing against your clothed cunt with a little more force than before.

you’re positively soaked at this point, hyper-aware of the cool stickiness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear. and it only gets worse for you when ellie at last decides to discard her sports bra, leaving her in just her boxers.

she’s so pretty above you, touching you in a way that makes you feel sacred.

ellie moves impossibly closer to capture your lips once more, she can’t get enough of you. you can feel all of her, skin to skin as your sensitive tits push up against each other as she lays her weight on top of you. the feeling of her grounds you, keeping you from feeling like you’re floating away. 

you’re panting into each other’s mouths, a mess of needy gasps and whines as you try and merge into one.

“please let me taste you, baby. i need it- need you.”

you’d be a fool to say no to her.

you watch as she kisses her way down your body, cherishing you like you were going to disappear at any moment. you’re throbbing beneath your underwear, clenching around nothing as she plants careful kisses over the material.

she chuckles as you whimper in frustration despite her needing this just as much as you. she looks up at you for any signs of discomfort that may have flown under her radar, but all she sees is unwavering adoration. you’re squirming but you wait so patiently for her touch, lower lip caught between your teeth in anticipation. so good for her.

you shudder as she drags your panties down the length of your legs, not missing the string of arousal that connects you to the fabric just a little longer before ellie’s throwing them in some random direction. 

she’s face to face with your aching cunt now, almost salivating at the sight of your glistening folds right in front of her, waiting for her to do something.

“ellie, please don’t tease,” you whine, hips bucking in a desperate attempt to entice her closer. she’s truly not trying to drag this out, although she does love to tease you, she’s just completely enamoured by the sight of you.

“sorry, baby,” ellie snaps herself out of her trance, “c’mere, need to taste that pussy,” she sighs dreamily.

it’s like you can feel the chemistry of your brain changing after the first drag of her tongue between your folds, all of your senses flooded by only her and you know now that you’ll spend the rest of your days chasing the feeling.

the sight of her between your thighs is already overwhelming, her eyes rolling back as she savours the heady taste of you. you can hear how wet you are as her tongue ravages you, moaning against you as if she was the one getting fucked. the pleasure was dizzying, your hand weaving into the strands of her hair in a desperate attempt to keep yourself tethered to this reality.

“fuuuck, ellie!” you squeal, her nose nudging your clit as she practically buries her face in your pussy. her eyes open to look up at you, a guttural groan rumbling in her throat as she watches your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, brows furrowed and lips pouty as you let her have her way with you.

ellie can’t fathom how she’s supposed to want to be anywhere else but between your legs now that she’s finally gotten a taste of you. all of those longing glances and lingering touches from when you were both just friends had somehow led her here. her rightful place, she was sure of it.

she was taking mental notes of all the cute little noises she dragged out of you, noticing how you shuddered and whined when she flicked her tongue just right, clenching around nothing as she sucked your swollen bud into her mouth.

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful. can i use my fingers? please, baby, i’ll make you feel so good i promise.”

she sounds downright insatiable, begging you to let her make you feel good like she could feel it herself. she was convinced that she could, the wet patch on her boxers growing larger the longer she spent savouring you.

“yes please- oh fuck- please, ellie…”

she has rendered you almost completely mindless, dragging her finger up and down your slick folds. she experimentally pushes it inside of you, watching intently as your eyes flutter at the sensation.

“yeah, that feel good, pretty?” ellie asks in that low, sultry tone of hers that makes your stomach do cartwheels. all you can do is eagerly nod, lightning shooting through your limbs as she reattaches her mouth to your pussy. amidst all of this, she slides in a second finger, your slick helping her enter you with ease as a strangled moan leaves your mouth.

you could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. the combination of her tongue lapping against your folds, her fingers dragging against that sweet spot inside of you and the weed still buzzing in your system has you ready to give her everything you’d been holding back.

she could feel it too, the telltale clenching around her fingers and the way you struggled to form a coherent sentence. and she was obsessed with it, about ready to cum in her boxers just from the taste of you.

“els, i’m so close- oh my god, please let me cum. please, please, please-”

she pulls away for a moment, still pumping her fingers into you to keep you on that edge.

“you gonna cum for me, baby? that’s right, give it to me, c’mon.”

ellie had learned alarmingly fast just how to coax you into giving her exactly what she wants, your legs starting to tense up as she dives back into you, lips messily making out with your cunt.

you could feel her everywhere and it almost scared you, completely unable to escape the undeniable reality of how fucking in love you are with her and it’s making you feral.

“e-ellie, i think i’m gonna- fuck, i’m cumming!” your mind goes blank as she pushes you over the edge, feeling the waves of it throughout your entire body as you convulsed around her fingers.

your hips buck frantically as you ride out your high, ellie’s muffled moans vibrating against your sensitive entrance as she greedily lapped up your juices. 

“oh my god, ellie! fuck, i love you, i love you, loveyousomuch-” you mindlessly babble without thinking, too far gone to notice the way ellie’s eyes widen and her thrusts speed up ever so slightly.

you let her indulge in you until you had to squirm away from the overstimulation, your body limp and tired after she had just wrecked you. you try to regain your bearings, feeling ellie remove herself from between your legs and move so she can hold you against her.

she litters sweet kisses across your face, humming happily as you turn your head to capture her lips with yours once again. you whimper at the taste of yourself on her mouth, melting into her until your breathing starts to even out.

“you okay?” she whispers, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down your arm. you hum sleepily, nodding your head in response.

“are you okay?” you ask her back, voice soft and a little hoarse now.

“yeah, i’m okay, baby. y’did so well for me.” ellie pecks the top of your head, completely smitten as she looks at your limp body cuddled up in her arms.

she thinks back to a few minutes ago of you professing your love for her as she made you come undone, her stomach fluttering at the recent memory. she debates waiting until you’re not half asleep to ask about it, but she just can’t help herself.

“did you mean what you said? when you said that… you loved me?” she’s nervous to ask, not knowing how she’d react if you had just said it on a whim. nothing more than just words.

“i said that?” you ask in confusion. you look mortified and ellie’s stomach twists. these aren’t the butterflies she had felt with you moments before, it felt like she’d been poisoned.

“y-yeah… you said it when you finished.” you’re quiet for a little while, this worries ellie. she feels like an idiot, her palms are starting to get sweaty. did she just ruin everything? fuck, fuck, fuck-

really you were just trying to rack your brain for when those very important words had left your mouth. and then you hear it, transported back to the memory in a third-person view.

she’s making you feel so good, your back arching as the shockwaves of your orgasm slam into you. you look down at her, and she looks undoubtedly obsessed with you. she’s latched onto your pussy like she’s starving, drinking in everything that you give her. and then you say it. a raw and terrifyingly real confession of, “i love you.” and you say it again and again, chanting it like a prayer as you promised her your heart like it was nothing.

“oh my god, ellie i’m so sorry.” she almost winces, she shouldn’t have said anything-

“i wanted to tell you how i felt properly on a date or something, not while you made me cum like a fucking loser, shit-”

ellie is confused for a moment, having been bracing herself for you to tell her that you don’t love her the way she definitely did you. but then you didn’t…

oh.

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine, furrowing your brows angrily when you see the cheesy grin making its way across ellie’s face. “don’t laugh at me! this is so humiliating.”

“no no, i’m not laughing at you! fuck no, i thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t mean what you said.” you tilt your head, the both of you now a little confused.

“oh…” you whisper. but if she wasn’t uncomfortable with you saying that you love her did that mean…?

“thought i was dreaming when i heard you say it. but i wasn’t and i am so fucking happy.” she holds you a little tighter now. “i love you so much, been wanting to tell you for a while now.”

“tell me again.” your request is simple but she knew how much it meant. ellie gently takes your hand and holds it in front of her face, leaning forward to press her lips to each finger tip.

“i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” another kiss.

there’s a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t ignore and you feel so safe in her arms. floaty and calm whilst you snuggle into her side, your eyes flutter tiredly as she tells you she loves you as many times as you need to hear.

maybe getting a little too high with ellie wasn’t such a bad idea.

[holydramon]

legitimately feel tri would have been way better received (and honestly just a legitimately better series) if it didn’t treat the 02 kids like that

[matteoberrettini]

are you catholic? i wouldn't have said so

anon 😭😭 i'm not trying to make fun of you and i'm taking this as a compliment actually but i don't know how to tell you this... i'm literally italian 😭

but seriously, i've grown up catholic yeah, but i don't believe in god and haven't taken part in anything religious in many years. i would say i'm like culturally catholic tho. and technically still catholic to the eyes of the church bc baptism and all that

[joshuamj]

i am Blind to basically anything I'm not familiar with, so i still don't know anythin about In Stars and Time. Could you give some info on it??? i am looking for games to play rn....

hmmm okay.. I will say, going in blind is best! I went in knowing literally only 3 things. 1) that it was about a timeloop, 2) that it was entirely monochrome, and 3) that this one character I had seen once was in it (Mirabelle, didn't know her name, just that she existed). And going in with such little knowledge was great, I'd highly recommend

But if you want more, then here's a bit more.. (mostly a synopsis of stuff you'll figure out early on, no major spoilers)

Obviously its a story about a timeloop! In the game, your party is a group trying to save the world from someone simply known as "the King" who is freezing the entire country in time. Interestingly, the game takes place at the end of your journey. The entire party has been assembled and have known each other, you've journeyed across the country, collected items that'll allow you to enter where the King awaits. All thats left to do is go through where he's holed up and defeat him. Also interestingly, you don't play as the protagonist of this story I've just mentioned. A girl named Mirabelle is the chosen one, blessed by her god, she is unable to be frozen in time, and has taken it upon herself to save her country. Yet, you aren't playing as her. You're playing as someone named Siffrin, just one of her party members, and one that says that they're only here because "they have nothing better to do." This should be Mirabelle's story, but you quickly realize why it isn't. Not long into the game, Siffrin's life unexpectedly comes to an end, and the fact that there's a timeloop afoot becomes apparent. Nobody but you and one strange mystery person (named "Loop" of all things) are aware of the loops. In the game you'll do all that you can to make it to the King and defeat him and keep your friends safe, no matter how many deaths, no matter how much time. But thing's aren't that simple you'll find!

Also this game is about a timeloop, so as you may guess, there's a lot of death involved so warnings for lots of death (including suicide), and also warnings for Really Bad Mental Health Stuff, as you may also guess, being trapped in a timeloop isn't good for your mental health. Check the warnings for the game if you think you may need to!

[apoloniaspiegelgold]

Feeling very soft again thinking about how he just got back to work after being sick and the first thing he does is to come to my office and ask me to tell him all about what happened to me in the week that he couldn't be here. So I say something like "my supervisor had the audacity to criticise my paper despite saying that he hasn't even really read it yet" and I had been actually quite mad about that, but then he goes "Oh, but that's what you want, isn't it? Someone criticising your work, someone fighting back a bit?" And I stopped and felt my anger disappear instantly and I thought ... actually yeah, you're right, why are you right? Why was I even mad? Why do you know better what I want than I do?

[jarofstyles]

Teach Me?

Hello love bugs, we've got a huge one shot here. I see a lot of writing where the guy helps the girl out with inexperience, but I thought I'd like to write something where he's the one asking for help. I had a lot of fun putting this together so I hope you guys like it. I may do more but I have a lot of other stuffed planned but let me know your thoughts!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 260+ exclusive writings! (Sign up on your browser to save $$)

WC- 12.3k

Warnings- mentions of insecurity, anxiety, oral, soft!Dom H, soft!Dom Y/N, switchy vibes but mostly Dom!H, Y/N pokes fun at him for being nerdy but she loves it,

"Hey..." Harry began casually, wiping his hands on a towel after washing. Her best friend had invited himself over for dinner, which meant he was going to do the dishes. It was an unspoken rule of their friendship. If you invite yourself, you clean up. But seeing as Y/N was the one who cooked nine out of ten times, it had become a normal to see him at her kitchen sink. Her eyes peeked up at him from her phone, giving him a look to continue. "Can I ask you something? It's a kinda...weird request." He scratched the back of his neck nervously, looking at her with an attempt at puppy dog eyes. He wanted something and it made her narrow her eyes. 

“I’m not going to the convention with you again, Har. It’s not my scene, I told you. I’ll watch any series of movies until our brains leak out our ears but if I have to sit through panels and Q&As where they ask what the characters favorite food is again I may lose my mind.” She knew it was coming up… but apparently that wasn’t his point. Thank God.

 "No! No. Adam is going with me this year. Rude. But besides that…” It made her a lot more curious as to what it could be because he did genuinely look nervous. “It's a weird question, actually." He sat down next to her on the couch, twisting his hands together. "And you can totally say no... but..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Would you... maybe..." The hesitance had her sitting up a little straighter, raising her brow higher to urge him forward. "God..." He muttered softly, trying to find the words. "You promise not to judge?" He saw her raise an eyebrow. "I mean it. No making fun of me." He watched as she slowly nodded, waiting.

“I make fun of you for a lot of things, but if you’re asking me not to, I won’t. Are you okay?” Y/N asked softly, unused to his behavior. He was usually playful and could take any joke, so it wasn’t exactly like him to ask her not to do it. 

"I'm okay." He assured her, but still had the nervous look in his eyes. "It's just... I've recently realized... kinda an embarrassing thing about myself." He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don’t think… I don’t think I’m actually making girls finish properly when I hook up with them. At least not every time. And I feel like shit about it.”

That was a surprise to her. Harry had the whole hot and nerdy thing going on, and he pulled plenty. Not that he always attempted or took them up on the offers, but he’d had a few girls he had hooked up with that she knew of. Usually he kept pretty quiet about it, but that didn’t bother her. Y/N had assumed a lot about him because… He did have some big dick energy going on. He had really nice hands too. The idea of him being unskilled in bed didn’t feel like it was right, but she was hearing him out. “What’s making you think this?” She asked curiously. “Did someone say something?”

"No, no one's ever said anything. Not to my face." His face flushed slightly pink as he shifted again, trying to get comfortable. "I just... well. Sometimes I noticed they'd tense up or seem kinda disappointed later. Like they were expecting something else. More? I dunno. And they don’t usually text me again, which is fine and all but I hate thinking I let someone down. It’s embarrassing." He avoided looking at her while he talked, staring at his fidgeting fingers instead. "I don't want to be one of those guys who only thinks about themselves. That’s the last thing I want to do." He trailed off, clearly embarrassed. So unlike him that it made her heart hurt a little bit. Harry was a happy guy and seeing him not like that was like seeing a wet puppy in the street. She had to fix it. 

“Well the fact that you even care at all is really good. I know, the bar is on the floor but, unfortunately a lot of men don’t give a shit if we finish or not.” Y/N knew plenty of men- had experienced them herself- that didn’t care if it felt good for her. They wanted a quick nut and go. Harry never seemed to be the type. Honestly, he was very thorough in most things and she’d assumed that would properly bleed over to sex.

 “Wanting to be better is half the battle. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. The first time I sucked someone off I gagged really awfully, the sound made him go soft.” She laughed at her own bad time. “We all start somewhere.”

He laughed softly at her story, feeling a little more at ease knowing he wasn’t the only one. Y/N was far more experienced and open about being a little freak, so it felt better to know even she had some weirder experiences. It wasn’t just him. "Yeah, I can imagine." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Gagging on dick is not the most pleasant experience, is it?" He turned to look at her, his eyes serious again. "But, um, thanks for listening and all that. I just... I want to be good at it. For them, and for myself." He looked down at his hands again, picking at his fingernails nervously. He needed to paint them again so he would stop doing it. His pink polish was chipped. "And that's why I was wondering…” He bit his lip, his heart racing as he tried to work up the nerve to ask his best friend a very personal favor. The most personal you could probably get.

 "Would you... would you maybe let me practice on you?” The silence lingered for a moment longer than he was okay with, panicking slightly as he continue. “I promise I'll listen to everything you say, and we can stop anytime you want. We don’t even have to! You can say no, obviously.” The man was babbling as he tried to untwist his tongue. “But I really trust you and I think you'd give me good feedback. Honest feedback." He looked up at her with pleading eyes, his cheeks flushed a darker pink that she hadn’t seen before- all the way up to his ears.

“Me?” That… was not at all what she had expected. To be fair she hadn’t been sure what to expect but that would probably be lower on the list. “You want to… practice eating pussy or something, on me? I just want to make sure I heard you correctly.” Because she sure as hell didn’t know if this was some sort of dream or delusion.

Harry nodded quickly, his ears turning an even deeper shade of red. "Yeah, you. I mean, if you're comfortable with it. I know it's a really fucking weird request and all, I swear I’m not trying to make anything weird with us but... you're my best friend, and I trust you. And I know you'd be honest with me." Y/N was known for being honest even if it wasn’t the most appropriate time to be. He looked at her with those big, hopeful eyes, his bottom lip worried between his teeth. "Please? I promise I'll do everything I can to make it good for you, if you let me. I just really want to get better at this."

It could fuck up the friendship. Y/N knew that, because it was every sort of cliche thing that tells you do not, under any circumstances, hook up with your best friend. But… it had been a while. Harry didn’t ask much of her besides her dinners and to go to some events with him so he wasn’t alone. He listened to her rants and brought her food when she was hungry and didn’t want to go out. He made her bed for her sometimes just because he was near and tidy like that. He swept the kitchen after dinner. He bought tickets to movies and concerts on his card and told her to pay him back whenever she could. He protected her if people acted weird at the rare chance they went out to the bar. Harry was a really fucking good friend, the best she’d ever had. 

She also couldn’t lie to herself and say she didn’t think he had a spectacularly pretty mouth and even better hands. They had always been really nice. Soft, long fingers, big palm. The tattoos that trickled down… Fuck. She was going to say yes. Fuck it. “Okay. I guess we can, but I’ve got some rules.”

He blinked, surprised but trying to hide it, his heart racing faster at her surprisingly quick answer. "Rules?" He nodded, leaning forward slightly, completely focused on her words. "Of course. I mean... I'll do anything you say." That came out a bit too smooth, and they both caught the double meaning. He cleared his throat, trying to appear casual and failing miserably. "What are they?" His eyes were fixed on her, his hands folded in his lap to stop them from shaking nervously.

“I mean, I’m being a little dramatic. It’s only a few.” She laughed, leaning back on the couch. “One being we don’t tell anyone. Our friends are already weird about how much time we spend together. Two, you don’t touch me and then another woman. If you find someone else that’s completely fine, but I don’t want her germs and shit on me.” That was not something she liked at all. “If you’re practicing on me, it’s me. I won’t fuck around with other people either, but I don’t fuck with STIs and all that.” It was doubtful he would need to be reminded of that. 

“I’m assuming this is going to be a couple times because the way you get good at stuff is practicing. I won’t complain if I get a few orgasms out of this.” She shrugged as if this was a normal thing to be discussing. Best friends having sex.  “But the last one is you don’t make things weird after you’re all good with your skills. Don’t make stuff weird.”

"Those are..." He cleared his throat, trying to process everything she had just said. "Those are actually very reasonable rules." He nodded, making sure to emphasize each point so she know he heard her loud and clear. "One: Not telling our friends is smart. Two: Of course, no cheating. We aren’t dating but I’m a one woman type of man. My mother raised me better than that. You know she would kill me." He managed a small smile. "Three: I, uh, plan on practicing. A lot, if you let me." His eyes lingered just a moment too long on her lips, then quickly flicked away.

“Good.” Harry was efficient in most things. It’s exactly why she understood how much it probably bothered the hell out of him to not really be able to get a woman off, or so he thinks. She was just being a good friend, right? helping him out. “So walk me through what you usually do when you bring someone home. We start there. I can tell you if something you’re doing is weird.”

He swallowed nervously, trying to collect his thoughts as he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "Well, uh... usually I'd start by kissing them, ya know? Get them a little worked up before moving down." He gestured vaguely with his hands, as if physically trailing kisses down an imaginary body. "Then I'd kinda... kiss around the area, maybe use my fingers first to make sure they're wet and all..." He trailed off, wincing as he realized how clinical it sounded when he said it out loud.

“That sounds decent, but kind of like a routine.” Harry was like that, she knew, but sex wasn’t. “Not all women are the same, though. We’re all different. You don’t experiment at all to see where her sensitive spots are? Do you keep kissing to the lips and her cunt?” The question was blunt, but she usually was.

"Well... No, actually. I kinda just do the same thing every time." He ran a hand through his hair nervously, realizing how basic that sounded compared to how she spoke about sex. "And yeah, I guess I do stop kissing once I get down there. Why?" He was listening intently, genuinely curious about her approach. For all his perceived experience with women, he was suddenly feeling very inexperienced in this one area. Something about the way she talked about sex was... different. Confident, like it was no big deal.

“Because women are sensual creatures, Harry. Sure, we have similar biological things that happen but the way we get horny is with our minds. Teasing a little. Dirty talk, if you’re good at it, ease into it. Kissing places that aren’t just the obvious.” Shifting to face him, she grabbed one of his hands and put it on her shoulder. He was definitely nervous. It was a little cute. “I’ll give you a cheat sheet for me. I really like to be kissed under my ear, over my throat. Sometimes a lick or a suck. A bite, if I’m in the mood. I like to be kissed over my stomach, tops of my breasts, inner thighs, hips. They aren’t necessarily obvious, but the exploration is nice.” 

Taking his hand, she moved it to her neck and then dragged it down past her tits, down her stomach to the waistband of her joggers. “You can have a general path, but you need to be comfortable deviating from it when that’s what she responds to.”

"Fuck..." The curse slipped out quietly as his breath caught, noticing how comfortable she was with his hand on her body. His fingers lingered at her waistband, acutely aware of the sensitive skin just inches beneath. "I never really thought about it like that. I always just went straight for the pussy." He cleared his throat, realizing how crude that sounded coming out loud. "I mean..." She chuckled at his flustered state, finding it endearing. "So you're saying I should take my time? Like, really tease her out?" He moved his hand slightly, fingertips brushing the bare skin of her lower abdomen just beneath her shirt hem. "Kiss other places, see what makes her squirm?" 

His gaze flickered down to where his hand rested, then back up to meet her eyes. There was a new spark of understanding there, like pieces clicking into place. "And if I find somewhere she likes? I should... explore that?" 

“Yeah.” Her stomach had jumped as he moved his hand but didn’t say anything about it. “Every person is different. I’m sure you have places you like to be touched that people haven’t tried yet either. Being in tune with your body and hers, being able to read the cues that’s what could be your strength.” It was something a lot of men didn’t bother to take into consideration.

"Like, if she makes a certain noise or tenses up?" He was genuinely intrigued now, his mind racing with possibilities. "What if she pulls my hair or digs her nails into my back?" He shifted his hand lower, fingers splaying out on her stomach curiously. "Does that mean she likes it?" He was so focused on the hypotheticals that he almost missed the way his hand resting on her stomach made her stomach muscles twitch slightly beneath his palm.

“Yes, exactly that. Sometimes you’ll be able to feel her pulse if you’re holding her wrist, or.. Well, if you’ve got your hand around her throat. We’ll talk about proper choking another day, but you can see if her pulse jumps from that.” His hands were perfect for that, honestly, and she shouldn’t let her mind wander. Nope. “The noises she makes, if she pulls you further in, bucks her hips, those are all good signs. Not everyone is extremely vocal, but checking in to make sure she likes it, if she wants you to give more, it can help.

"Checking in?" He repeated, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he tried to wrap his head around the idea. "You mean like... asking her if she likes it?" He shifted his hand lower still, fingertips brushing the hem of her joggers. "Like, 'is this okay?' Or 'do you like this?'" He could see how that might be helpful, especially with quieter partners. "But wouldn't that ruin the moment?" He looked up at her, genuinely curious and seeking approval.

“You don’t have to ask in such a sterile way. You can just say something like ‘does that feel good?’ or ‘that’s nice, baby?’ and see her response. You’ve got a nice voice, Har. Use it.” She gave him the compliment easily. He did need a bit of confidence boosting, that much she could already tell. “Checking in shouldn’t ruin the moment. It’s safe, it’s a sign of a good partner. You’ll figure out how to check in in a less… abrupt way.”

"Right... fuck me." He muttered under his breath, actually feeling slightly embarrassed about how little thought he'd put into this before. "I've been a clueless fuck, haven't I?" He sighed, running his fingers along her waistband more deliberately now, testing how she responded. His heart stuttered slightly when she complimented his voice."So like..." He traced patterns on her lower stomach with his fingertips, almost unconsciously. “Feels good?” Testing out the way she had suggested.

Y/N swallowed, feeling a bit of a shift. He had seemed to be having a good time touching her stomach, the light tracing on her skin making her heat up a little bit. She wasn’t blind- Harry had most definitely gotten hotter over the years, and he was just attractive in general. Though she hadn’t allowed herself to look at him as anything but the quirky best friend he was, getting to see a different side of him was something she was intrigued by.

 “Mhm.” She tilted her head slightly to the side. “See? It doesn’t have to be straight into it. Just touches like that can get a girl wet.” It was starting to get to her, weirdly enough. “Tell me about kissing. How do you usually start it?”

"Kissing..." He trailed off, his mind briefly distracted by the way her skin felt beneath his fingers. "Uh... well. I usually start with a simple peck, just to see if they're into it." His other hand came up to gently tilt her chin, exposing her neck to him. "If they seem like I have the go ahead, I'll press my lips to theirs more firmly- it’s kinda hard to explain with words." Being a little bold, he let his thumb brush over her bottom lip absently as he spoke, his gaze fixed on her mouth.

“Well if you’re going to eat me out, I don’t see why you can’t just show me.” Kissing Harry had not been something she had anticipated actually doing, really ever, but she can’t say she hadn’t thought about it. The man had an incredible mouth. Soft looking lips, deep pink, the cute little birthmark, all of it was appealing- it was just that it wasn't a possibility for her prior. “Show me how you do it with them.”

His thumb brushed her bottom lip again, his breath hitching slightly at the idea of kissing her. It was just an exercise, he reminded himself firmly. This was just a dry run, to help him figure out his technique. But as he slowly leaned in, his heart rate picked up, eyes flicking between her lips and onto her eyes. "Like... this." He whispered hoarsely, sliding his hand back into her hair to tilt her head further. His lips pressed to hers gently, just a soft brush at first to test the waters. His lips were soft and warm against hers, the kiss gentle at first. He waited for her to react, to see if she would pull away or lean into it. As she didn't, he took it as his sign to keep going, slowly increased the pressure, his lips molding to hers in a soft, sweet kiss. 

Feeling emboldened when she began to press her lips back to his, Harry peppered her lips with a series of short, sweet kisses. His lips brushed against hers once, twice, three times in rapid succession, each kiss a little firmer than the last. He could feel her starting to relax into it, her lips softening beneath his own. Encouraged, he let his tongue flick out briefly, a teasing taste before pulling back slightly to gauge her reaction. She tasted like the lemon lime soda she’d had with dinner, a sweet surprise. All of this had been. He hadn’t been sure if she would say yes and if this would potentially make things weird, but thankfully Y/N seemed at least a little receptive to it. His hand remained in her hair, holding her gently as he studied her face for any signs of discomfort or approval. “Okay?”

Y/N knew he would be a good kisser, but he was playing it safe. However, even with the safety still on, she knew he had it in him. He wasn’t as shy as he had been before and that had surprised her a bit when he had gripped her to keep her in place. That had been exceptionally hot. At least to her. “Yeah. You did well.” She cleared her throat to rid herself of the rasp. “You’re playing it safe, though. Here.” 

Swinging her knee over his lap, she pushed him back against the back of the couch so his posture was more relaxed. “You’re stiff. Pun not intended.” She snickered, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve got to relax a little bit. I don’t know if it’s just me or you get anxious when you kiss other girls too. The thing you did holding my face still? That was hot. It’s gonna depend on the girl but you seem to have an idea on what to do.” Placing her hands on his broad shoulders, she settled her weight on top of him. Hm.. he really had been doing well at the gym. “You okay with me on your lap?”

Harry blinked in surprise, trying to catch up to the fact that she was currently in his lap. Closer than she usually got to him, voluntarily hopping on up. “Y-yes! I mean, yes, please. Go on." His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying his nerves. He wasn’t sure if it was from the unexpected closeness or just the sudden shift in dynamic between them. Her weight felt nice on his lap, but besides a cuddle or two this was definitely the closest they’d ever been. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be nervous.”

Y/N nearly cooed. His frown was precious, really. He was precious. Sliding a hand over his jaw, she tilted his head to meet her eyes. “It’s okay to be nervous, but it’s just me. I’m not going to judge you. You asked for my help, and I’m gonna give it to you.” Slipping her fingers in his hair, she made herself familiar with touching him. They hadn’t been super touchy to begin with but she knew Harry liked physical touch. He was clingy with their other friends physically, but he had always respected that Y/N typically wasn’t the type. Now though? It was free game. “You can touch me how you want. Get familiar with me.”

Y/N wasn’t the type to truly judge if you really needed her and he knew that. Hell, that was why he had come to her in the first place- but she was intimidatingly beautiful. It set him off to be even more nervous. His mind briefly wondered if this was how he was in bed- overthinking everything- maybe that was why he didn’t get calls back. 

“Shit.” He muttered softly, then snapped back to attention as she told him to touch her. He wanted to do that, he had always wanted to but Y/N only really liked to be cuddled when drunk. When she was, she would be giggly and happy, hold on to his hand and swing them back and forth, especially when he helped her get into the car. It had always made him feel special, but this? It was a privilege to touch her. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms loosely around her, testing the waters. “Like this?” He spread his fingers out slightly on her back, his thumbs nearly brushing the bottom of her bra strap under her top.

“Yeah, that’s nice.” Leaning into him, she let her fingers run over the rims of his glasses. “These are cute. I like them.” His new glasses suited him. They were a little bit thinner than his old ones and it was a tad bit more modern. She hadn’t been lying to him when she said he had the hot n’ nerdy advantage. “You’ve got really nice hands, Har. Use them.”

He blushed slightly at the compliment on his glasses, his fingers tightening slightly on her waist possessively. "You really think?" He asked softly, tilting his head to the side to give her better access to his face. He liked when she did little things like that, adjusting his glasses or messing with his hair. Maybe it was because he felt touch starved, particularly from her, but the simple brushes of her fingers made him feel that heat in his lower stomach. It was so simple but the air felt a lot thicker than it had before. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves to be more bold as he slowly dragged his hands over her hips.

“Mhm.” She nodded, gently running her nails over his scalp. “See? I’m not too scary.” Though she had to admit that the feeling of his big hands pawing at her and running over her hips and waist made her feel a little bit giddy. Maybe she could attribute it to the fact it really had been a while since she had been touched in a way that wasn’t friendly, but her body liked the way it felt. “You’re being polite, which is nice. But as cute as your little gentleman thing is, I know you want to grab my ass, Harry. You can do it.”

Harry's breath caught as she said that, his eyes darkening slightly behind his glasses. He had definitely been thinking about it, doubted there was anyone who saw it and didn’t want to, but he hadn't wanted to overstep. Hearing her give him permission was like a green light and he couldn't help himself. His hands squeezed her hips before slowly sliding down to grip her ass, his fingers spreading out to knead the soft flesh. "Fuck..." He muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse. "You're so soft."

His grip on her ass tightened reflexively as he pulled her more firmly against him, a low groan escaping his lips. The heat of her pressed deliciously against his hardening cock, and he couldn't help but roll his hips slightly, seeking friction. "Shit, Y/N...Sorry. I don't want to get carried away." He breathed, his face flushing darker. Here he was, rock hard with his best friend in his lap, from a little ass grab. It was embarrassing how quickly he had gotten worked up- But God, it felt good.

There was a sigh out of her mouth as she felt him start to relax and do what he wanted to do. This was closer to where she wanted him to get, but she hadn’t expected it to feel as good just being rubbed over his lap. “There you go- it’s okay.” She whispered. “That’s hot. You want to show her that you’re eager for her.” With her grip in his hair, she tugged his head back slightly to look at his pink cheek. “You’re a faster learner, I know. But you remember what I told you? Try kissing my neck. I told you the spots I like.”

His eyes fluttered shut as she tugged on his hair, his throat exposed to her. "Yeah. I can do it. S’long as you feel good, m’happy..." He whispered, his voice rougher than she had ever heard it. Leaning into her touch, he let her guide his face into her neck and followed instructions quickly to press open mouth kisses to her skin. He started at the spot just below her ear, as she had told him about, sucking gently on the soft skin. His hands continued to grab at her ass, pulling her flush against him as he kissed and sucked his way down her neck.

The kisses trailed lower, his lips hot and damp against her neck. Each press of his mouth made chills rise on her skin, his stubble lightly scratching her sensitive skin in the most delicious way. As he sucked gently on a particularly sweet spot, she couldn't help but tip her head to give him better access, a soft gasp escaping her lips. None of this had been expected, but liking his mouth on her skin hadn’t been. Maybe it really was just the fact it had been a while but… it felt better than her last hookup. 

Harry was her friend and she trusted him. She felt safe, and that probably made her feel a lot more comfortable, just as it probably did for him. But having his hands all over her was something her whole body was responding to.  A quick learner, he had realized how much she liked feeling the friction and did something about it. His strong hands gripped her ass harder, pulling her over his lap and letting feel the throb of him through their clothes.

He could feel her getting heavier in his lap, her breath growing shallow as he continued his adoration of her neck. It felt amazing, yes, but he was in a bit of awe. Harry really should have known that Y/N didn’t half ass anything. She was thorough in everything she did- apparently it extended to teaching him how to please a woman. His hands roamed freely as he adjusted, taking a risk in spreading her legs wider over his lap to better fit her between his thighs.

 "Am I doing okay?" He mumbled into her neck, his voice muffled. "Is this warming you up enough? Or should I be doing more?" His fingers flexed on her hips before sliding down, spreading out to rest on her thighs.

“You’re doing good.” The thickness in her throat made her voice a bit raspier, unsure how she had managed to let herself get to this point. It felt really fucking good. His hands strong and so fucking big, splaying over her thighs. The heat of them seeming to radiate through her skin and down to her bones, she wanted to lean into that touch.

 God, she was touch deprived. 

He had done a good job in making her panties damp and it felt almost embarrassing that a little bit of heavy petting and kissing on the neck had her pussy throbbing, but she couldn’t exactly deny it. Lightly rubbing herself against him again to get more of the friction her body was demanding, she closed her eyes and let her head lean back before she admitted it to him. “You’re making me wet.”

His whole body seemed to tense up at her whispered admission, his hands flexing on her as he took a breath. "You are?" He whispered back, his voice not able to contain his surprise. He had hoped he was doing something right- especially after all the apparent failures he’d had- but hearing that she was wet from just his touch and kisses was... something else. He wasn't used to being this effective. His ego swelled slightly, making him bolder. "Can I... touch more?" He asked hesitantly, his fingers inching higher up her thighs. "Can I feel what I’m doing to you?"

His words had her gritting his teeth. Where the fuck did that come from, and why did it made her throb? Letting out a breath through her nose, she opened her eyes to look at him. It shocked her a little, seeing his lips swollen and eyes a little hazy, glasses a tiny bit crooked. He looked disheveled in a way he usually didn’t. Of course he had always been hot but this look in particular, knowing it was caused by her specifically? It fueled her ego too. 

“Y-Yeah.” She nodded, clearing her throat. “Yeah, you can. That’s what I’d tell you to do next. You have good instincts.” It was a mystery to her how Harry, who was good at almost everything, had struggled to make a girl cum- but she was the teacher now. “You can slip your hand into the waistband.”

"Fuck. Thank you." Harry muttered under his breath. He couldn't believe he was actually about to touch Y/N intimately, after all these years of being just friends… It was insane. He wasn’t unable to see how insanely fucking hot she was, that had never been an issue. He’d had a few questionable wet dreams about her- but the actual idea of ever touching her hadn’t come up until recently, and he was liking it a bit more than he probably should be for a lesson.

 With trembling fingers, he slowly slipped one large hand down the front of her joggers, sliding it along her stomach until he reached the top of her panties. "Can... can I? Under them?" His breath was warm against her neck as he asked permission, albeit a bit jumbled, waiting for her nod before slowly slipping under the final piece of fabric that kept him from her most intimate place.

At her nod, he released a deep breath through his nose. His heart was racing as he slowly pushed his hand under her panties, the back of his fingers brushing against the soft, damp fabric. He could feel the heat emanating from between her legs, his own body responded accordingly. His cock was pulsing in his briefs, surely starting to make a bit of a mess. "Holy shit." Harry breathed, his voice shaking slightly as he explored her with his hand. His fingers dipped lower, feeling the slickness coating her folds. “You really are fucking soaked.” Tilting his head up with an awed smile, he met her eyes. “I did that t’you?”

“Mhm.” It felt slightly harder to breathe as she looked at his eyes, seeing the pride in his face, feeling his fingers cupping her wet pussy and giving a little squeeze. It had her inhaling sharply, fingers on his shoulder digging into his shirt. “You did. I- I want you to show me what you do when you get to this stage with the girls you hook up with.” It was taking everything in her not to rock against his hand, staying still as she tried to ground herself.

His fingers trembled slightly as he tried to mimic what he thought he had seen in porn or heard from his friends. He had forgotten what to do. Another symptom of his damn nerves taking over. He roughly spread her lips apart, his thumb pressing against her clit as his middle finger pushed inside her soaked pussy. "Shit... I'm... I'm not really sure what to do..." He admitted, his voice shaking as he started to rub her clit in slightly sporadic circles while thrusting his finger inside her. It was clumsy and a bit rough, but he was trying his best.

“Okay- alright. Stop.” Making sure to keep her voice soft and not like she was scolding him, she held his face in her hands. “You’re jumping right into it a bit too fast, Honey.” The nickname fell from her lips a bit too easily but she decided to ignore that. “You need to ease into it. Find a rhythm. Pull your fingers out.” She instructed, gently stroking over his cheekbone. It was obvious he was embarrassed from his flushed cheeks, and she didn’t want that. He wasn’t doing too badly, but he’d asked for a lesson. That’s what she was going to give him.

 “Hey… Look at me.” Tilting his chin up, she gave him a soft smile. “S’okay, Har. You came to me for help. I’m gonna help you. You didn’t do anything inherently wrong.” Still, she could see he felt some type of way about it, and she knew he needed a bit more comforting. Leaning in, her lips pressed against his in a soft peck. It was more intimate than it should have been, but she was again, going to ignore that. “Hi.” Smoothing the skin under his eye, she gave him a giggle. “Okay, so… You’ve got incredible hands. They’re so nice… and I know you can be good with them. So let’s start slow, okay? Do slow circles over my clit with your thumb. Nice n’gentle.”

His shoulders had dropped slightly after her small kiss, ignoring the flutter he’d felt in his chest from it. He hadn't realized how tense he had gotten, like he had failed the test- but this was Y/N. Y/N was safe, she was kind despite how blunt she was, and she was helping him. There was no evidence of her making fun of him in her tone, simply sweet. Unusual, maybe, but it seemed like she knew what she needed. 

"Okay." He mumbled softly, his cheeks slightly less red. Her compliments helped a bit- He had always had confidence issues when it came to this. "Like this?" He asked shyly, his large thumb slowly making small, loose circles over her clit. He was careful to keep his touch gentle like she asked, watching her face for any signs that he was doing it wrong again.

He felt her body tense pleasantly at his touch, a soft exhale escaping her lips. Encouraged by her response, he maintained the slow circles, his thumb brushing over her clit with deliberate gentleness. Her hips gave a tiny involuntary roll against his hand, seeking more of the pleasant friction. Harry's fingers twitched slightly, wanting to increase his pace but remembering her instruction. He resisted the urge, keeping the rhythm maddeningly slow.

“Yeah. That’s so nice.” She whispered. It was experimenting, letting him explore and get the hang of it. “Every woman is different. Some people will want it faster, some will want it rougher, but I like this to start.” She admitted, leaning into him. “Here.” Dragging the cropped top off of her body, she exposed the lacy bralette she had heard good reviews for to him. It was quite nice, holding her tits up in a way she hasn’t expected- but she’d chosen correctly today, unknowing that a man would be able to see it firsthand. “When you’re doing this, you keep kissing her. Licking. Sucking her nipples, if she’s into it.”

His eyes roamed over her bralette-clad breasts, the delicate lace contrasting with her soft, smooth skin. He felt his mouth watering, the urge to taste her growing stronger as he watched them move as she breathed- but thankfully, thank god, she had given the go ahead to touch. To taste. "Okay. I definitely can do that." He murmured, his thumb continuing its slow circles on her clit as he leaned in to press open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone.

His lips trailed lower, his kisses growing more intentional. The lace of her bralette tickled his lips as he worked his way down. He could see her nipples hardening beneath the fabric, making his mouth water. His thumb continued its steady, slow rhythm on her clit, causing her to shift slightly in his lap. It was surreal to feel her breathing, hear it so close up as he kissed over her pounding heart. 

He was doing this to her. Harry was making her wet, making her squirm. The confidence the breathy moan she let out had him pushing for more. With one hand, he gently pushed the lace down to expose one breast fully, making her gasp softly. His lips immediately found her hard nipple, surrounding it completely and sucking gently.

“Oh, Jesus.” The words were pathetically, a mewl that came from the back of her throat as his hot tongue lapped over her swollen nipple. The suction was light, soft, just like his thumb on her clit- and it was enough to make her feel like she was going insane. “T-That’s really fucking nice.” She praised, raising her hand to card it through his fluffy curls. He must have just washed them, they always looked pretty when he did.

Hearing her moan like that, praising him so freely, sent a jolt straight to his cock. He hummed around her nipple, the vibrations deliberate this time. His tongue flicked over the hardened bud before he switched to sucking harder, desperate to elicit another gorgeous noise from her.

“Yeah- like that.” Rocking her hips slightly into his hand, she pulled his head closed onto her breast. It felt too good, too hot to stop. Yeah, this was a lesson, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy teaching him. “Some girls won’t get much enjoyment out of this. Their nipples aren’t sensitive to it as much. If they aren’t responsive, you can keep it moving- or a-ask them if they want you to keep going.” Her voice was higher in pitch than she had meant for it to be but it wasn’t possible for her to control that right now. “I really like it, though. So it’s doing the job. You can rub my clit a little harder- give it more pressure.”

Her words had him nearly purring around her nipple. The little thrill went up his spine as her hips rolled into his hand, knowing that now he had a decent idea of what he was doing and could feel less nervous about it. Listening to instructions like he had promised he would, Harry added more pressure to his thumb, rubbing it harder over her little bundle of nerves. It was impossible not to feel her getting slicker against his palm, her breast filled his mouth perfectly, his tongue swirling around the peak before sucking it back between his lips. Almost overstimulation for his mind, but he wanted to keep going. He was trying his best to be good with his hands- he really was- But damn. Her body was so responsive.

Y/N wanted to continue this as long as she could. She wanted to feel him get more and more confident with it, but he seemed to have a grasp on it. There would probably be… a few times where they’d get to do this, and if she was honest? If they kept this up, she was going to cum and be too sensitive for his mouth. And by the way he kissed? She wanted to feel his mouth. 

“Mmmm.. Har, Honey.” She whispered, gently tugging his mouth off of her tits with a gentle tug of his hair. “Hi. Hello.” It was stupidly cute, the slightly lost look on his face. “S’okay. You were doing good. A bit too good actually. I just think that we should get to teaching you how to eat pussy. I’ll cum if you keep going.”

He blinked rapidly, a slightly dazed look on his face as he tried to process why he’d been pulled away when he’d obviously been making her feel good. It felt incredible to have her nipple in his mouth, hearing her soft noises of pleasure. The haze of lust in his mind slowly cleared at her words, realizing she was probably right, even if he selfishly wanted to keep going. "Oh..." He murmured softly, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. "Right. Okay." He adjusted his glasses, trying to regain some semblance of focus.

“Good.” She stroked his hair back with a tender smile, pulling him to kiss her again before taking a look at his face. “I’m gonna lay back, like this.” Sliding off his lap, Y/N settled against the arm of the couch pulling a pillow to rest her head on. The position had her sitting up slightly, but gave a more relaxed vision. Hopefully that would have him feeling calmer. “And you’re gonna lay between my legs once I get these off.” Her bottoms needed to get off immediately. 

When he sat back, she tugged on the waistband and squirmed to get them off, haphazardly kicking them to the floor- along with her panties. There wasn’t much hesitance in showing her body to him. Y/N liked her body, she felt proud of it, and she embraced it. There was always those nerves though, being intimate with someone new- even if it was for a lesson. Spreading her thighs, she placed a hand over her cunt and motioned for him to lay down. “Do you remember what I said, Honey? About teasing?”

He nodded slowly, trying to remember all the instructions she had given him. "Tease first..." He murmured softly, adjusting his glasses nervously as he positioned himself between her thighs. Using his elbows to keep him up a bit, he swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched her spread them wider for his body to fit between. "Kiss, lick, don't go straight for the... the main event?" He asked hesitantly, his hands resting on her inner thighs.

“Very good.” Her face lit up as he looked at her for reassurance. “It’s the little things that get me. You know? The soft brushing of fingers on the thighs, the stomach, right above my pussy…” She trailed off with a sigh. “Kiss my thighs, Har. Can you do that for me?” Taking her hand off her cunt, she properly revealed it for the first time for his eyes to see.

Harry felt the breath catch in his throat as the sight of her bare pussy caught him off guard. It wasn’t lost on him that he was very lucky to be able to experience this. Y/N was beautiful and he adored her, but there was a new appreciation in him for how kind she was being. This wasn’t something you could just ask anyone. "Fuck..." He whispered, his hands squeezing her inner thighs gently as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the delicate skin. "Like this?" He murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive skin, his lips brushing over the crease where her leg met her hip.

“Mhm.” 

He could see her body relax into the touch, her thighs parting a bit more to give him better access. Her skin was so soft and warm under his lips, and he could smell her scent growing stronger the closer he got to her center. Harry took his time, pressing gentle kisses along her inner thighs, his hands brushing along the skin in a featherlight touch. He could hear her breathing growing a bit shallower, her chest rising and falling a bit faster. It emboldened him to continue, to keep teasing her like she had told him to.

"You're... you're doing so good." Y/N breathed out, one hand coming to rest in his hair as she spread her legs wider, hooking one over his shoulder. She could feel herself growing wetter with each kiss, more aroused knowing he was taking his time to learn her body. Such a good little student. "Lower. Just a bit..." she whispered, guiding his head with gentle fingers. Her other hand drifted down to her breast, plucking at her nipple as she watched him between her legs. "Kiss right above my cunt.”

Eagerly following her guidance, he moved up to press a soft kiss just above her pussy, his lips brushing against her soft curls. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, smell her arousal. It was intoxicating, and he found himself nuzzling into her a bit, his nose pressing against her. "Fuck, you smell so good..." he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin. He pressed another kiss right at the top of her slit.

“Oh fuck- that was good.” She gasped in surprise. “That’s filthy. Rubbing yourself against me but… it’s so hot. Showing how eager you are to make the person you’re gonna pleasure, it’s really sexy.” Brushing his hair out of his face, she felt the heat of his breath over her cunt. “Tell me you want to eat me out. Talk to me.”

"I do..." His voice came out huskier than he'd planned, his eyes flicking up to meet hers briefly before focusing back on her exposed pussy. "Fuck, Y/N... I really want t’taste you." Without waiting for further instruction, he used his fingers to spread her open for him and pressed a gentle kiss directly to her clit, making her gasp loudly. "You're so fucking wet… Can’t believe I did this." His finger traced down her slit slowly, as if showing instead of telling how aroused she was.

"Your cunt is fucking glistening. I can already tell your pussy is sweet..." He muttered against her skin, his tongue peeking out to give her one soft lick. Tasting her for the first time, savoring the flavor on his tongue, he was proving that fact. She was perfect to taste- a pussy like this deserved the best of the best, and he wanted her to show him exactly what she liked. Y/N moaned loudly, her hips rolling slightly, a clear indication that she liked what he was doing. "Yeah? You like that? S’good for you?" Harry asked, his voice encouraging as he licked her again, this time a bit slower, applying a bit more pressure.

“Uh-huh… Shit.” She cussed, feeling his tongue swipe up and over her clit. “D-Do what you want. Let me see where it’s going wrong because right now from my perspective, you’re doing perfectly.” Why would he even need help? Was it a ploy to fuck her? That was doubtful considering Harry really, really wasn’t like that. The worst part was that she was liking it a lot more than she was supposed to. If she was training him on how to pleasure how she liked it, it was going to be hard not to lose it.

Harry smiled slightly at her words, feeling a bit more confident in his actions. He started slowly, his tongue flicking out to lap at her gently, his fingers keeping her open for him to fully access her. He could feel her wetness spread onto his chin, and he couldn't help but push himself, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking softly. He looked up at her, checking her face for any signs of discomfort or pleasure.

He was learning, trying to remember how she had said she liked it. His tongue swiped up again, swirling around her entrance slowly before pushing inside slightly. "Like this?" He mumbled softly, his chin wet with her juices. He kept his movements slow and unhurried, his touch soft. He was tentative, like he was scared of messing up. "Is this good?"

“I.. Normally would say that’s a bit fast to push your tongue in but fuck, that felt nice.” She giggled breathlessly. “Here…” Her fingers were careful as she took his glasses off and tossed them further down the couch so they wouldn’t get in the way- or worse, crushed. “Wanted to see those pretty eyes.” Her fingers kept the hair out of his eyes as she felt a few kisses over her mound, in the thatch of curls above her cunt. His face was slightly wet, but it was erotic. “That feels so nice. The kisses…” She hummed. “You have the instincts. Don’t think too much about it. Doing things like that- That’s good. Just make me feel good. See what I respond to.”

Harry blinked owlishly at her, surprised by the sudden loss of his glasses but pleased when he realized she liked his eyes. His face flushed slightly at the praise, his tongue darting out to lick over her clit hesitantly. "Okay. You’ll tell me if y’don’t like it, yeah?" He asked, his breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh. He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her pussy, the sound drowning out the tv playing at a lowered volume.

She nodded slowly, watching him between her thighs. He was almost shy like this, his face buried in her pussy as he kissed around it sweetly. His lips were soft, his kisses unhurried. He spread her wider with his thumbs, his tongue poking out to give her one slow lick from bottom to top. Her hips shifted slightly, chasing the feeling.  "You taste so good." He mumbled softly, his voice sending vibrations against her. “I didn’t expect you t’get so wet for me. Soaking my chin. I love it.”

His words seemed to have struck a chord in her, judging by how sharply her breath hitched and her legs involuntarily tried to press around his head. She visibly flustered, clearly flattered by his filthy compliments- and shocked. Had he always had that in him? "Harry..." She whimpered, the sound of his wet mouth against her flesh combined with his sweet, dirty words making her pulse against his tongue. "You... should be careful with that mouth." She whispered, her hand tangling in his hair again, guiding him slightly without putting any pressure.

He chuckled softly, the vibrations traveling pleasantly through her core. "Why's that?" He murmured teasingly against her skin, his tongue darting out for another long, slow lick. He could feel her practically melting under his mouth, her thighs quivering slightly. This was how it was supposed to be. Maybe it was because he didn’t feel as anxious with her, they had repor, he truly trusted her- but it felt like he had a better sense of her body and what she liked. 

She’d given him clues and tips, but he was finding out on his own what she liked. It was something he was enjoying the longer he did it, feeling more eager to bury his face in her pretty pussy and never leave. Especially when he felt her hand tighten in his hair and her body shift to get more. "Worried I might make you cum too hard?" His tone was playful, a little more confident now, and that was dangerous for her. Feeling him nipp gently at her clit, soothing it with a flicker of his tongue immediately after was enough proof of that. Looking up at her he tried to see if that was okay, but the noise she let out had him feeling fairly sure it was.

"Fuck, Harry... You smartass.” The giggle turned into a pitched moan very quickly after though, her back arching as he sucked on her clit in retaliation, her hips rolling against his mouth. Harry could feel her getting closer, her pussy getting wetter. He knew the signs, she was teaching him. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he licked into her eagerly. She was so responsive, her body reacting to his every move. He felt powerful, in control- and it was a heady feeling.

"Jesus, your pussy is perfect." He mumbled between kisses, not caring if she could hear him. He could see her getting close- her thighs trembling, her breathing quickening, and the way her fingers were now tight in his hair. That was his goal. He wanted to make her cum so fucking bad it hurt. His cock was a mess in his trousers but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to make her cum, hard. He wanted to clean it up as he made himself messy. "Do you want my fingers inside you?" He whispered, not missing a beat with his mouth returning to his suckling. He kept the pace steady but increased the pressure just slightly, wanting to hear her response.

"Yes..." Y/N  breathed out the single word, squirming helplessly against his face. His mouth felt incredible and he obviously felt better about what he was doing now, taking more risks that only worked out in her favor. "So good, honey. You’re doing so good, your mouth is perfect." 

How had he been bad with these other women? All it took was a little bit of instruction with a soft voice and he was licking into her like she was his last fucking meal. 

She gasped, her nails nearly digging into his scalp as he slipped one finger inside her easily. "Your fingers are so big. Holy shit..." She panted, grinding down on his hand. "More..." She begged, knowing damn well she hadn’t wanted to be this needy for it but god damn. He was a good student. A very fast learner. "Please." The woman’s voice cracked with need. "Harry, please..."

He curled his fingers slightly inside her, hitting that spot he’d read about but had never actually found on a woman before. He must be doing it right, because she was practically sobbing his name, her hips bucking against his hand. He added another finger, stretching her slowly but surely, his tongue never stopping its slow, deliberate lapping. 

It was obvious what she liked, what made her feel good, and he wanted to keep doing it. Memorize it so he knew how to do it perfectly next time- or continue practicing until he had it down. His head felt fuzzy with the need to get her there, to make her feel hot under the skin like he had been clueless about before. "Look at me." he mumbled against her, his voice muffled but insistent. He wanted to see her face contort with pleasure, wanted to watch her get closer.

It felt like her entire world had narrowed down to his fingers inside her and his tongue on her clit. It really had been far too long since she’d been touched and even longer since she had been eaten out with this amount of vigor. Maybe it hadn’t ever happened prior to him, but her brain wasn’t fully working. She was so close, teetering on the edge and he just... he just kept pushing her. Adding more, curling just right, licking and sucking in a rhythm that seemed designed to drive her insane. 

Y/‘ couldn’t see him fully, not with his face buried smugly between her thighs, but she managed to lift her head, her eyes finding his own as he had demanded. The intensity in his gaze, the desperate need, it was too much. “Just like that, you’re going t’make me cum. Just like that, keep it like that- fuck.” Her groan seemed angry but it was anything but. She was worked over and sulking at how good it felt. “Shit, you love eating pussy. Don’t you, Harry? Just needed s-someone to show you how they like it.”

"Fuck yeah." He breathed against her, his eyelids drooping with pleasure at her accusation. He loved this, every fucking second. The slick sounds of her arousal, the way her pussy clenched around his fingers, the taste, how she grabbed at his hair, the sounds she made, the changes in her breathing, her squirming, the way her words slurred a little bit, the pulsing against his tongue. 

God. Harry fucking loved it- he just didn’t know it could be this good. Addicting.

The vibrations as he groaned happily between her lips had to be adding something extra. "Knew I'd love it. Jus’ want to be able to make you feel good."

"Cum on my face baby, okay? Just let go. I wanna taste you." He whispered hoarsely, pressing a sloppy kiss to her clit before sucking it back into his mouth. His fingers curled again and again inside her, hitting that elusive spot over and over as she dripped all over his fingers and down the back of his hand. He wanted to make her shatter, wanted to feel her cum all over his face and fingers like he had been working toward.

There was no way she could even respond properly. The constant stimulation to her g-spot, his repeated sucking on her clit, the way he sloppily ate her cunt with little regard of the mess she was making on his face- the only thing he seemed to give a fuck about was making her cum. Who was she to take that from him?

 Her body tensed, her back arching as she let out a long, drawn-out moan. It was a sound of pure pleasure, her entire being focused on the overwhelming sensation of him working her over. She came hard, her pussy clamping down on his fingers as she gushed all over his face and hand. Her hand was tight in his locks, tugging as a garbled moan left her mouth and she attempted to writhe. He kept her held still as he moaned loudly against her.

In fact, Harry didn’t stop. Even as she came, he kept eating her, his fingers still curled inside her as he lapped up her cum, cleaning her up. He was fucking starving for it, for the taste and the sound and the feeling of her losing control. He sucked and licked her pussy, feeling it spasming occasionally, until he was certain he had cleaned up every last drop- And her weak push of her hand against his head. Only then did he slowly pull his fingers out, his face and hand coated in her.

She was a goddess, slumped back against the cushions with a flushed, dazed expression. Harry couldn't help but kiss her inner thigh as it twitched before wiping his mouth. "Fuck, you’re amazing." The man murmured. Crawling up her body, he claimed her lips in a messy kiss, letting her taste herself. “Thank you.” It was mumbled between lazy kisses. “Thank you, Thank you.”

His hands roamed over her as he continued to kiss her sloppily, his body heavy on top of hers. He was still fully dressed, his erection painfully trapped in his pants. "Y/N... I’m sorry, but can I?" He asked softly, his fingers already working at the button of his jeans, his intent clear. "I gotta cum. Can I cum on your cunt? Please?” If he wasn’t so horny he would be embarrassed for doing this, but he was losing it. When it died down, he would definitely be embarrassed for how insane he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe the lack of blood flow to the head, it was going directly to the other.

“Shit.” Y/N laughed weakly, her body feeling like pins and needles as it came down from the orgasm. The idea was one she had considered, especially with how good he had listened- a reward. “Yeah, Honey. As a reward.” She sighed, leaning her head up further. “I wanna watch.”

He almost whined at her words, practically tearing his jeans open wide enough to pull out his stiff cock. He pushed his pants down towards his calves, staying there between her spread legs. His hand gripped his dick tightly, squeezing as he looked up at her face from his spot between her legs. "Yeah- yeah, please watch. I love being watched.” His hips moved forward unconsciously as he ran his cock over her, the head of his dick smearing pre-cum all over her cunt.

“Cute little exhibitionist.” Y/N cooed, running her hand over her stomach. “Go ahead. You’ve got such a pretty cock, but it looks like it hurts.” Her lips formed a soft pout. “Stroke yourself and cum all over that pussy, Harry.”

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He chanted under his breath, his hand moving faster over his shaft. With his tip pressing against her clit, he ran it up and down her slit. "You're so pretty. Your cunt is beautiful- all of you, so fucking gorgeous." He complimented her, his words coming out in short gasps. It was so hot, the way her lips spread around him, how she looked all fucked out and messy from his mouth. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum all over you, baby."

Y/N looked up at him with a soft, encouraging smile, her eyes staring into his with that tinge of desire. "Cum for me, Harry. Cum all over my pretty little pussy. I wanna see it, I wanna see you lose it." Her hand moved down to spread herself, holding herself open for him. "You've been so good, so obedient. You deserve it. Such a good student, a fast learner… You can have it. Cum on my cunt." Her voice was gentle but commanding, the perfect blend of sweet and dirty that had him right on the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N..." Harry whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut as her words pushed him over the edge. With a final thrust of his hips, he came undone. He felt the first spurt of his hot, sticky cum hit her pussy lips, coating them in his release. He groaned loudly, his body shuddering as he pumped out rope after rope of cum, covering her cunt completely. "Oh my god... Oh my god."

Even as he finished cumming, a few last spurts dribbling out to make a mess across her lower stomach, he couldn't look away from where his cum coated her pussy lips, right in her thatch curls and the surrounding skin. It was obscene, filthy, and he loved it. Y/N had made him lose his mind a bit, but he didn’t really want to find it.

Breathing heavily, he finally met her gaze with a slightly embarrassed but mostly pleased grin. "Holy fuck, that was hot." He murmured, swallowing hard. "Never done that before. Came so fucking hard..."

"Good, cause you made a mess." She giggled, watching him as his chest heaved. The sight of his stomach and abs glistened with a light sheen of sweat- his hair was ruffled and he looked like he’d had a workout instead of jerking off on her body. "You like that, I think. Making a mess." She asked softly, watching as he continued to stroke himself slowly, milking himself. Her eyes were drawn back to his dick. It really was beautiful- and really fucking big. “Where the hell were you hiding that? God damn.”

He couldn't help but chuckle at her comment, glancing down at his slowly softening dick with a smirk. "Guess I just needed the right inspiration, huh?" He teased lightly, finally releasing his grip on himself and leaning forward to rest his forearms on either side of her head, caging her in slightly. His face was mere inches from hers now, his glasses gone and his hair disheveled in the sexiest way possible. “Just need t’do this before we clean up and act normal again. Don’t yell at me.”

His mouth claimed hers slowly, lips moving softly against hers. He licked into her mouth slowly, like he was savoring her taste, his body half covering hers. His hand cupped her cheek as he deepened the kiss slowly, like he was trying to imprint himself onto her. Just as quick as it started though, it was over. She shouldn’t have been so sad about that. He pulled back slowly, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes opened slowly to find her watching him softly, their lips still wet and swollen from the kiss. He grinned slightly, licking his lips again. “See? Not so bad.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, feeling dazed. Who the fuck was this? And why did he kiss so good it made her toes curl? Who was this and what had they done to her best friend? “I think your problem isn’t that you don’t have skill. Naturally you seem to get it. I think you’ve just gotten into your own head and you think too much.” She had been a safe person and it was easier for him to lose that anxiety with her, knowing she had already agreed to teach him. 

“It can be hard to perform if you’re not able to properly get into it. Your dick can be hard as nails, but your mind not being in it will be a mood killer and they’re gonna know.” The smile on her face was slightly sad but she knew it was what he had to hear. “Because honestly? I haven’t orgasmed like that in ages. All it took was a few tweaks and you had it down. Maybe you just aren’t a hookup guy. Did that feel a lot different than the other people?” Maybe he needed someone who could openly communicate. The expectation of someone just knowing wasn’t always fair. 

"Yeah." He hesitated, shifting slightly to prop himself up on one elbow next to her. His other hand traced patterns on her stomach absentmindedly. "It was... different." He seemed to struggle with the words for a moment. "With those other girls, I was always nervous. Overthinking every single fucking thing. Like you said." He glanced at her face, a slight blush forming across his cheeks. "With you... it felt natural. Real. And fuck, listening to you moan like that… Where did those lungs come from?"

“You freak!” She laughed, pushing his shoulder to get him to sit up. Adjusting her bralette back over her breasts she didn’t bother with the bottoms yet, because she really needed to go clean up. Secretly she was pleased that she had been different. It was so cliche to say it, but she wanted to be different than them. She just… wasn’t quite sure why yet. Her brain hadn’t come back down to earth fully and she couldn’t be bothered to truly question it. “You won’t need many lessons on how to pleasure a woman with results like that, I’m telling you that. Good job.” Reaching out, she squished his cheeks with a soft coo before he shot her a look.

"Oi!" He laughed, swatting her hand away playfully but with a big smile on his face. "Don't treat me like a puppy. And..." He hesitated, reaching up to cup her face gently, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "Did it really feel that good? I mean." His voice dropped to a slightly embarrassed whisper. "Am I actually good at this stuff?" For someone who had just made her orgasm so hard, he suddenly seemed insecure again. Like he needed validation. "I know you don’t lie like that, but it just feels weird. Cause everyone else seemed disappointed… I thought I’d be completely awful.”

“Oh, H.” She frowned at his vulnerability. “It was really good for me. I think maybe you just need some lessons on how to let go and relax when you’re being intimate. And I’m happy to teach you that.” Brushing her hand over his stubble she gave his chin a pinch. “Trust me. I’d tell you if you needed a lot of work. It can be hard for women to cum from oral sometimes too. It’s hit or miss for me, and you had me cumming so easily so, I would say it was probably a mix of feeling safe and you having some good natural instincts you couldn’t tap into before because you were anxious and your brain was in overdrive.” Pulling him into a hug, she squeezed him lightly as she inhaled his scent. He smelled like mint and sex, with a tinge of laundry detergent. Appropriate. 

“When I’m done with you, we’ll have it all squared away and figured out. Okay? Don’t think about those times. Think about the fact you’re gonna get to fuck your really hot best friend.” Standing up from the couch with a laugh and a pat to his head, she walked to the bathroom to get herself clean- and take a minute to breathe. Her chest was doing a weird thing it hadn’t before and she didn’t want to think about it. “Hey, can you order something from that cookie place to be delivered while I shower please? Use my phone, my card is already in the app. Thank youuuu.”

He watched her leave, a small smile on his face at her words. It was a relief to hear that he wasn't completely incompetent. Flopping back against the cushions, he stared at her ceiling fan as it whirred around with a content sigh. 

As requested, he ordered a batch of her favorite cookies from the nearby bakery, adding a special request for extra chocolate chips with a small chuckle. She had ordered quite a few times recently, so he had tried to replicate it while adding white choc macadamia for himself. A classic, even if Y/N would wrinkle her nose for them sharing a box.

After submitting it for the delivery, he found himself humming softly, a warmth spreading through his chest at the thought of learning more from her. That had been so good, he felt so relieved that he wasn’t defective- but he did have to wonder how he was going to be this comfortable with anyone else. Y/N was easy to unwind around. It was hard to imagine him getting as comfortable with anyone else in the way he was with her.

Getting closer to her in a vulnerable and intimate way was sure to grow their friendship. He couldn’t really see it backfiring. Their friendship was too strong.

 Right?

[mariasont]

mariaaa!! i have another idea!! > 3 <

ok, so…

sleepy, needy, & clingy bimbo!reader with hotch

either before they together or when they first get together <3

Hot & Bothered (No, Like, Literally, You Have a Fever) - A.H.

summary: bimbo!assistant!reader is feverish, clingy & just a little delirious, except, not too delirious to shamelessly flirt with your very attractive, very exasperated boyfriend. pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: sick!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship, soft!hotch, flirty banter, suggestive-ish content, clingy!reader, hotch ignoring all cdc guidelines, reader is kinda being a baby about everything (just like me fr), theatre kid hotch. wc: 2.3k

You started off playing it cute. All little sighs, sending Aaron pouty texts filled with emojis, making sure he knew you missed him, but in a haha, just kidding (unless?) kind of way. Now you're way past that. The cute phase had dissolved into something far more desperate.

You were sick-sick. The terrible kind of sick where your limbs feel like they're made of granite, and your skin somehow manages to burn and freeze at the same time.

Worst of all, Aaron wasn't here.

And really, what was the point of having a boyfriend as stupidly gorgeous, painfully competent, and naturally overprotective as Aaron Hotchner if he wasn't going to be around when you need him most?

You knew you were being dramatic. You knew this was your own fault. Aaron had practically ordered you to let him come home with you, standing there in his office with his disapproving frown, telling you that you shouldn't be alone if you weren't feeling well.

But in your infinite wisdom, you had waved him off, told him to stay at work. Because at the time, you were fine. Or, more so, fine-adjacent. And because sometimes, your brain tricks you into thinking you are a capable, independent woman who does not, in fact, require Hotch-shaped supervision.

So now you're curled up in bed, drowning in the well-worn fabric of his FBI academy hoodie, the one that smells like him. And it helps. But not enough.

Because if he were here, he'd be so good at taking care of you. He'd probably be all bossy and stern about it, telling you to drink your water, go to sleep, and stop pouting. But then he'd turn around and betray himself completely by smoothing your hair back so, so softly, by tucking the blankets up to your chin like you're something delicate. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a soft side.

Maybe you should call him. Maybe you should be really, really pathetic about it and beg him to come home.

Maybe you're just a little too codependent. (Just a little.)

The second the front door opens, you think you must be imaging it. You convince yourself it's the fever, twisting reality into want instead of what actually is. Because Aaron shouldn't be home yet.

You squint at the clock, but it's just a bunch of blurry numbers, and math is already hard enough without feeling like your brain is actively melting.

But then there's the sound of leather against hardwood, and not just any leather.

You know those shoes. The custom Italian Oxfords you forced him to let you buy. He'd grumbled about the price, all exasperated and dramatic (as if he had any real concept of what good leather actually costs), but he still let you drag him to the store. Still let you lace them up for him. Still let you kiss him senseless in the parking lot because he looked too insanely sexy in them to be allowed to exist without immediate compensation.

You'd told him once that good shoes take you good places. And now look where they took him.

Straight home to you.

The relief is so instantaneous, it makes your head spin. And suddenly, he's there, shoulders broad against the door frame, arms crossed, eyes warm despite the unimpressed look he's attempting to pull off.

"My poor baby," he says, half-teasing, but mostly just achingly soft.

Your bottom lip wobbles. "It's not that bad."

Aaron sighs loudly, already loosening his tie as he strides over, assessing the damage, which, in this case, is you, buried under what is objectively a very reasonable amount of blankets.

"Uh-huh." Flat. Dry. But he's already reaching to fix them, like he can't help himself. "That why you're buried in every blanket we own?"

You burrow deeper into said blankets. Maybe if you commit hard enough, he'll stop looking so smug.

"They're comfy."

He crouches beside the bed, undoing the last button on his cuff before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. His touch is cool, and you lean into it immediately, shameless at how much you enjoy his skin against your overheated own.

"You're hot."

You blink at him, dazed, and—without thinking—mumble, "So are you."

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret them. Not because they're untrue, that's indisputable, but because of the sheer pathetic delivery of it, all scratchy and pitiful and nothing like the effortless flirtation you usually bring to the table.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut like that might somehow reverse time.

Aaron, of course, is completely unbearable about it. His lips twitch, and you can see it happening in real time, his struggle not to laugh directly in your face.

"Flattered," he drawls, his thumb brushing over your temple, fingers carding through your hair in slow strokes. "Have you been drinking enough water?"

You wrinkle your nose. "Water is boring."

"You're boring."

You gasp, sniffling as you try to look offended, despite the congestion ruining your tone. "Boring? You weren't calling me boring last night when I—,"

"Okay."

Aaron cuts you off immediately, already leaning down, pressing kiss after kiss to your face—forehead, cheeks, anywhere he can reach. You squeal in protest (or, well, try to, your voice is too weak for it to be truly effective), but he just laughs against your skin, relentless.

"Okay, I take it back," he murmurs, kissing your nose like an apology. Like a bribe. "You're the most exciting person I know. Now be exciting and drink some water before I have to force it down your throat."

"Force it down my throat?" you rasp, a weak smirk pulling at your lips as your fingers prod into his dress shirt. "You promise?"

"So inappropriate." He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, but his hands are already cupping your face, his lips pressing to yours, like he loves kissing you too much to stop himself.

You barely have time to enjoy it before your brain remembers how sickness works.

"Wait, germs!"

Aaron just smirks, tilting your face up with a knuckle under your chin. "Since you brought up last night, that's an interesting concern, considering where your mouth was last night."

You should say something flirty in return. Something about how that was different because it was basically an act of public service (one you love providing). Because that's what you do. You throw him off, make him sigh like you're exhausting and adorable at the same time, watching his ears flush pink when he pretends he's not affected.

But the words never come, instead, your brain hands you a far worse visual. Aaron, like this, but worse. His face pale, head pressed against a pillow, forehead creased with discomfort he wouldn't acknowledge. You can see it clearly, the way he'd insist he's fine, the way he'd make it through a workday half-dead before even considering rest.

And suddenly nothing is funny.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt without thinking, like holding onto him will somehow fix the terrible, awful, no-good mental image you just had.

You're frowning, and you don't even realize it, not until Aaron does, his thumb pressing lightly against the center of your forehead, like he can smooth it away.

"I don't want you to get sick."

"My sweet girl," he murmurs, fingers threading through your hair once before he stands. "I can handle a cold. What I can't handle is you being miserable and dehydrated. Be good and let me take care of you."

Aaron disappears before you can argue and by the time he returns, a glass of water in hand, you've barely had a chance to process how much you missed him in those few seconds.

You watch as he puts it down on the nightstand beside you.

"There. Now drink."

"Yes, sir," you mumble, taking a few small sips just to prove that you're listening.

But if he really wanted you hydrated, he should've just kissed you again.

Aaron's eyes narrow, shooting you a pointed look.

You sigh, loud and put-upon, then take another sip, longer, just to appease him. You make a show out of it, before immediately reaching out, patting the empty space beside you with undeniable urgency.

Aaron snorts. "Didn't last long, did you?"

"I'm sick. I need warmth and love."

He exhales so dramatically, shaking his head. "If that's what my poor, suffering girl needs, then I suppose I have no choice."

Alright, theatre kid.

You bite your tongue, not because you're wrong, but because self-preservation is a skill, and you'd like to see another sunrise. And, fine. If he wanted to pretend like sitting still for five minutes was his own personal crucifixion, then who were you to deny him. It wasn't your fault, he ran himself into the ground, like he was trying to beat time himself, working to the bone until someone (you) had to physically drag him to bed.

You watch, maybe a little too intently, as he kicks off his shoes, undoes his belt, and swaps out his boring, stuffy work pants for the sweats. Your sweats. The ones you have a deeply personal attachment to.

You have history with those sweats.

"You know, you put those on and suddenly I start feeling a whole lot better." Call it divine intervention, maybe. "Do you think if you let me sit on your lap, I'd be at full strength again? Because I think we should at least try. For medical purposes."

Aaron settles in beside you, pressing one, two, three kisses to your lips, because he can, because he wants to. When he pulls back, he's smirking.

"Cheeky girl," he murmurs, thumb skimming your jaw. "And here I was, thinking you needed me to take care of you. Turns out you just wanted an excuse to climb all over me. How tragic. I've been completely fooled."

You brain-to-hand coordination is questionable at best, but that doesn't stop you from attempting to very subtly slip your fingers along the waistband of his sweats.

Aaron grabs your wrist instantly laughing—an actual, real, Hotchner laugh.

"Sweetheart," he muses, so damn amused, his thumb tripping over the pulse point of your wrist. "You can barely hold your head up, and you're trying to start something?"

"With a boyfriend like you, I'm like, legally required to start something."

Aaron lets out the longest, most suffering sigh known to man.

Like you said—theatre kid.

"Don't I know it. You're insatiable."

You open your mouth, fully prepared to launch into a passionate defense of you very reasonable levels of attraction to him, but a sneeze—tiny, weak, kind of embarrassing—ruins it.

Aaron's smirk evaporates. It happens fast, like a switch flipping, like he's just remembered, really remembered, that you're not at full strength, that beneath all your teasing, you're a little delicate, too easily worn down.

For a second, he just stares, jaw tight, brows furrowing ever so slightly, like the sight of you, flushed cheeks, fever-glazed eyes, pathetic sneezy, physically pains him.

And then you're moving, no he's moving, pulling you in, tucking you into his chest, as if you were something his hands were built to protect.

"And yet, here you are," he murmurs, kissing your temple, breathing against your hair, "disease-ridden and tragically adorable."

You sigh, shoving your face as close as humanly possibly, like some kind of human limpet. His heartbeat is strong beneath your ear, soothing, a constant thump thump thump that makes your eyelids droop.

"I really missed you today."

Aaron's arms tighten around you, but then you sniffle. Not the same pathetic little sound from earlier. This one's different. This one is softer, wetter.

He tenses just enough for you to feel it, enough to make you regret it, because now he knows.

You blink rapidly, tilting your face down, trying to breathe past the sudden, stupid sting behind your eyes, willing it go away before he—

Too late.

His arms loosen just enough to tilt his head down, scanning your face like he's already trying to figure out how to make it better.

You turn, burying your face in his chest. "I'm fine."

A lie. A bad one at that. So laughably transparent that even you wince a little.

Aaron doesn't call you on it, however, just pulls back slightly, just enough to cup your cheek, catching the tear before it falls.

"Oh baby," he breathes, voice a little rough, like he wants to pull the sadness out of you and keep it for himself.

He presses another kiss to your temple, then another, then another, like he needs to fix something unfixable, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck.

"You're killing me here."

You sniffle. Again.

"M'sorry," you mumble. "This is probably like... super unattractive."

Aaron shifts again, tilting your chin up as his thumb brushes against your cheek.

"Still the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he murmurs, but his jaw is tight, his fingers flexing against your skin. "I should've come home sooner."

"You wouldn't have lasted," you mumble, voice slowing, words dragging just a little.

Aaron raises an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"Because you'd stress yourself out." You hum sleepily, tracing absent circles against his shirt. "You'd take my temperature every hour. Make me drink disgusting tea. Then, once you ran out of things to fuss over, you'd start deep-cleaning the grout just to feel useful."

He snorts, shaking his head. "You make me sound unbearable."

"You are unbearable," you murmur, but your grip tightens around him, contradicting yourself entirely. "But in a very sexy, very productive way."

He laughs and presses a kiss to your temple.

"You know what would make me feel better?"

Aaron's chest rises with a deep inhale, like he already knows. His arm tenses around you. "Sweetheart—,"

You grin against his shirt, weakly.

"A very hands on wellness check."

Aaron chokes out a laugh, tightening the blankets around you. "Christ."

He presses one last kiss to your forehead and you think you hear him mumble should've seen that one coming under his breath.

You hum in agreement, mentally ranking all the times he should've seen something coming.

This moment, obviously.

The time he let you fall asleep on him once and then acted surprised when it became a permanent thing.

The time he told you to be serious and then immediately realized that was the worst possible way to get you to stop joking.

The time he tried to fight it, tried to keep you at arm's length, tried to act like this thing between you wasn't inevitable.

You should tell him. You should. But then he tucks you closer, breath hot against your temple. And before you can launch into your incredibly important findings, you're already too far gone.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[keferon]

I stand by the belief that Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rod would be friends in any universe. Much to the terror of everyone else.

———————————————————————

Deadlock was loosing his mind.

Deadlocks face plates were starting to hurt from the strain of manually stopping himself from reflexively smiling. And why did he have an overwhelming compulsion to smile?

Because: This. Tiny. Minuscule. Absolute Fragging SPECK of a human was somehow radiating more emotion out of his EM field than any other mech that Deadlock has ever met in his life.

And what was that emotion?

"THIS IS THE COOLEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN IN MY FUCKING LIFE!"

Joy. Pure. Unfiltered. Unrestrained. And completely unreasonable levels of joy.

"RATCHET. RATCHET. HE'S SO COOL."

The mini nuclear reactor was currently shaking the medic by the shoulders, practically vibrating with unspent energy. Seconds ago, Hot Rod had seemingly slagging materialized next to him in an explosion of emotion that damn near knocked Deadlock on his aft. He was currently tempted to swat the little fragger halfway across the hangar to escape the onslaught of unexpected emotions except-

Ratchet had personally brought him in. Even now, the medics field remained calm and collected in the face of what to Deadlock felt like a fragging Sun. He kinda envied humans field numbness right now because it was definitely starting to screw with his processor.

Case in point, Deadlock had to take a click to refocus on what the squishes were talking about.

"No fucking way. Really?!"

“Yes, he really did take down those three quints near the wind farm by himself. Ate one of 'em too.”

"YOU EAT THEM?!?"

Deadlock was expecting disgust, but instead all he could feel was overwhelming awe. His resolve to remain aloof and detached was quickly beginning to crumble before the blast furnace of Hot Rods personality.

A manual override finally failed and Deadlock broke into a wide grin. At least he kept his fangs on prominent display. Equal parts smile and threat.

"Drink, actually."

Deadlock made a conscious effort to take on a more relaxed posture, one that would convey predatory pride and confidence.

"Dude. Dude. Dude."

Hot Rod held his hands to his face, leg rapidly bouncing up and down.

"YOU'RE A FREAKING ROBOT VAMPIRE FROM OUTER SPACE?!"

Before Deadlock could ask what a vampire was, Hot Rod had begun jogging away while screaming incoherently.

"What. What is happening?" Deadlock leaned towards his human, listening to Hot Rod get fainter as he rounded the corner of the hangar.

"About what I expected.” Ratchet grumbled, setting his hands on his hips.

“Roddy is intense as they come but he’s a damn good pilot and an even better friend."

Ratchet pointed a finger at Deadlock.

"Don't tell him I said that."

Hot Rod had become almost inaudible by now but was slowly gaining volume again.

"Right now kid, it's just been you and I. And trust me I enjoy the arrangement. But we can't fight every battle by ourselves. Sometimes you just need help. Sometimes,"

The screaming was quickly gaining decibels.

“You just need a friend.”

A friend.

Huh.

The scarred, defensive, self preserving part of Deadlock protested the thought of being pried open any further. Ratchet had started the process. But, c'mon. It's Ratchet. He scolded his inner self. Ratchet always left things stronger then before. So, maybe. Just a little bit. Deadlock could at least see what was so great about this squishy human.

The screaming returned to its initial volume as Hot Rod rounded the corner and mech. They were pretty sure humans normally breathed more often than that?

Hot Rod came to a stop before the two of them.

Finally gasping in fresh air. His field was absolutely roiling, pretty much all positive emotions but the screaming lap around the building had clearly vented a lot of energy.

"Can you turn into a bat?!"

Deadlock reset his optics, an idea spreading across his processor as he finally let his Em field reciprocate with giddiness and mischief.

Who cares if it's sparkling behavior? It’s fun. He told the Deadlock part of himself.

"Nope. But do you want to know what I can turn into?"

Hot Rod nodded so fast Ratchet looked concerned.

Che-che-chu-klunk.

Hot Rod started screaming again.

This time when when his EM field hit Deadlock he took it all in and reflected it right back. He revved his engine so loudly it shook the windows. Hot Rod was running and jumping in a tight circle around the two of them, radiating Joy Joy Joy Joy. Deadlock swore his field was even effecting Ratchet at this point from the way happy seemed to bounce between the three of them in various shades.

"Can we go for a ride?!"

Hot Rod had stopped by Deadlocks passenger side door. Rapidly looking between Ratchet and Deadlock, clearly uncertain who's permission to ask for.

"Well Doc, do you trust us not to get into trouble?" He wriggled his tires.

"You two? Staying out of trouble? Hell no."

Ratchet rubbed his chin the way he always did when he was trying to stop himself from smiling.

"But as long as you both come back in one piece and before dark... Well I don't see the harm."

Hot Rod gave his loudest "WOOP!" Yet. A feat in it of itself. A scrambled into Deadlocks cabin, forgoing the door entirely to throw himself bodily through the window.

They tore away from Ratchets hangar with a chorus of thanks and a spray of gravel.

———————

It was well after dark by the time the duo rolled into Ratchets hangar. Hot Rod stumbled out into a semi controlled summersault that left him spread eagle on the floor, laughing and panting. While Deadlock smoothly transformed and promptly rolled flat on his back in a similar state of delirium.

They had so much fun. He had so much fun.

When was the last time he'd ever felt like that?

When had he ever felt like that?

Ratchet was upside down frowning at him. No, wait. Smiling.

Happy. Fondness. Proud.

Love.

Deadlock cleared his vents and put a hand over his spark before his chest plates could do something very stupid.

Ratchet turned to the hot mess on the floor.

"I got the couch set up for you. Figured you're gonna stay the night."

Hot Rod stuck his arms straight up, palms open.

"Woo, sleepover!"

His field had finally simmered down to something like coals. A bone deep exhaustion that made Deadlock feel heavy by proxy.

They both gracelessly shuffled onto their respective resting arrangements, Ratchet taking the recliner after dimming all the lights.

Soon enough, all three were in recharge or asleep.

———————

Deadlock started out of recharge with tightly trained silence.

Something was wrong.

Threatened. Stressed. Afraid.

Deadlock seemed dead to the world still. But internally, his systems quickly synced to kill. A skill he had honed over many millennia of unsafe homes and attempted assassinations.

What surprised him was how he already mentally mapped out how to maneuver the humans into the safest location in a fight. Deadlock finally onlined his optics, casting the hangar in an amber glow. His processor clicked and Deadlock realized what was triggering his fight response.

Threatened. Stressed. Afraid.

Hot Rod.

Limbs twisted in fabric, face buried in the crook of the couch. Posture contorted. Breathing uneven. Field pulled in so tight it felt suffocating.

Deadlock loosely knew what a nightmare was.

Ratchet got them sometimes, though he wouldn't admit it until Deadlock made it clear the lack of context was freaking him out a little.

The way Ratchet explained it was that it was essentially a way for the brain to process excess information. Basically the same as defrag but with some weird human side effects because of course there were weird human side effects.

Like whatever was currently happening to Hot Rod.

From previous experience, nudging Ratchet awake usually resulted in a snort or other cut of vocalization. But if there was anything Deadlock had learned it was that Hot Rod did not do anything quietly.

Ratchet was still sleeping on his recliner, but there was a subtle shifting and a pinch to his face. Not a nightmare, Deadlock had learned the pattern, but something was bothering the medic and it threatened to wake him from his much needed rest.

Help.

The wave of desperate emotion spilled out like an overfilled cup.

Right, Hod Rods EM field was freakishly strong. It was restrained for now but Deadlock dreaded what it’d feel like if the dam broke.

He watched Ratchet stir again and. . . Wait.

Could humans pick up on EM fields?

Can’t a deaf mech still feel the vibrations of a song? Couldn’t a blind one still feel the warmth of the sun?

What if?

Deadlock moved as silently as death. Cupping a servo over the pilot. He stopped restricting his field and focused.

Calm.

Hot Rod made another almost vocalization. Like he was trying to yell without enough air.

Calm. Deadlock tried again. Comforting anyone was so, so far from his normal area of expertise. Did he even know what calm was supposed to feel like? What safe was supposed to be? He wracked his memories as Deadlock and abandoned that immediately.

Calm. Safe. Ratchet.

Okay. Deadlock didn’t know how to comfort someone, but Ratchet did. He focused his field again, this time on trying to mimic what he always felt from Ratchet as closely as possible.

Care. Fondness.

Deadlock vented slowly. It felt hollow coming from him. The new field was there but it was weak. Unsupported. Deadlock worried his lip with a fang. Hot Rod simmered.

He vented slowly. Deadlock opened the box at the back of his mind named Drift. He knew what he needed. Everything else could stay but he needed this one feeling. Just one.

The stars were out over Dead End. A brown out had swept the area, leaving everything in the dark. Drift didn’t know the sky could look like that.

The others were gathered around in silent awe. Nobody dared to break the spell. Tomorrow, everything would suck again. Scraping money for the next meal, the next hit, the next chance to live just a little longer.

But for a few fleeting moments, Drift was okay. They were all okay. Because the circles of light around Cybertron said so.

Peace.

Drift let the feeling fill his field. Calm and fondness meant something again.

He thought of his time with Ratchet and Hot Rod. Finding something new in himself.

Protect.

It was like smoke clearing all at once. Hot Rod exhaled deeply in his sleep, field going soft and gentle.

He kept it up, at some point his engine had started purring without him knowing. A pleasant white noise within the hangar. They were okay. Everyone he cared about was okay. He felt peace. Just for now. Just for them.

“Didn’t know you could do that.”

Ratchets voice was thick with sleep. One eye barely cracked to look at him.

“Me too.”

—————————

Part 1

This is long and it’s getting late. Deadlock has an emotional breakthrough and Hot Rod dreams about I dunno, pancakes or something.

-SSTP

Infinitely entertained by the mental image of Ratchet trying to pick someone who he can trust but who will also get along with Kid. And then looking at Hot Rod and being like Yep. That one.

ALSO. Hot Rod having an EM field equivalent of a nuclear fucking reactor is just so👌👌👌 YES HE WOULD. ABSOLUTELY YES HAHAHKFNGM

I never get tired of reading about Roddy and Lock losing their last brain cells when they are together. Anon. Anon look at me. I LOVE YOU ANON. I WILL CHERISH THIS PIECE FOREVER IT BROUGHT ME THE UNMEASURABLE AMOUNT OF JOY THANK YOU FOR SHARING IT

[starflungwaddledee]

we're back!! we had a fairly staggering amount of delays with flights-- 8 hour airport delay on the way there, and a wholly cancelled outbound flight on our way back to australia-- but we're home safe and sound, even if it's a day late!

regular posts will resume in the next few days!

just want to give a little heads up, but i'm going to be away for several days until tuesday next week! heading on an international trip for family obligations and will likely have little to no internet access!

i have a few things in the queue (gifts mostly) but won't be around to respond to new posts, dms, asks, etc, until i get back.

take care, see you on the flipside!

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ mini pac ｡⋆｡ ﾟ

˖ ݁random things about your next lover ౨ৎ ˚

this is a small light hearted pick a pile reading, made for fun. there's a good mix of random, quirky, and deep stuff in each pile. so yeah, pick one and take what resonates or take it as a sign if it makes sense to you. {this reading is written in a non-hetero centric way}

dividers by @cafekitsune & @jimzittos images found in @saizun 's blog.

pile one pile two pile three

pile four pile five pile six

.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

.

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ ko-fi page

⋆bookings for personal readings are open ཐིཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆.⋆༘˚⋆

They have way too many hobbies, and they’re all kinda niche but related to creativity.

Very playful with almost everything, quirky or bizarre sense of humor. 

Always looking for new things to do, seeks enjoyment and/or entertainment.

Humble, they don’t like bragging or being too loud about whatever they achieve. 

They are open minded because being judgemental goes against their logic. 

Amazing at teamwork. 

Deep down they are actually quite structured and disciplined, despite giving off the opposite impression. 

Unexpectedly responsible in their own way. 

Very curious, wants to know everything about you. 

Is quick to smell bullshit. Impossible for them to be lied to.

˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐.⋆༘˚⋆

They love anything that has a darker, spooky, mysterious tone. But they are quite chill about it actually, they love scary things but they are not annoying about it. 

Easily misunderstood and badly judged by others tho.

They try really hard to be good at communicating with others despite being kinda shy and almost awkward. 

Always overthinking and over analyzing. 

They are nerdy, but in a history or philosophy way. Probably unable to do math. 

Amazing emotional intelligence, especially when it comes to dealing with difficult moments from their past. 

Worried about the future: they are not too concerned about traditional success, but they are concerned about leaving some sort of impact in the world, no matter how small. 

˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆.⋆༘˚⋆

Hardworking, dedicated, passionate… maybe a workaholic. 

Actually quite handy and always willing to help or solve anything.

They love their routines, they swear by them.

If they love you, after you ask them “what's going on?” they won’t reply “nothing”, they will go on about an overly specific topic that they were reminded of by something random. 

Charismatic, but in a pretty eccentric way. 

Black cat looks, yellow cat personality. 

They are attractive because they are truly confident in themselves, and maybe quite uninterested in looking exactly like the conventional beauty ideals.

Detail oriented, borderline obsessive. 

They are always doing something, always on the go, always close to burn out… because the moment they chill they accidentally begin feeling unmotivated.

. ˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓.⋆༘˚⋆

Party animal but in a golden retriever way. 

So friendly and nice it's almost scary. But in reality they really enjoy meeting people, hanging out, and chatting. 

Also, quite altruistic and willing to help out anyone with anything, they don’t care who or why. 

They have a lot of friends, and acquaintances, but they have a very small inner circle who they are extremely loyal to. 

Very strong sense of hope for the future. They never lose the conviction that everything will eventually turn out just fine. 

Their will is sometimes too strong, they don’t let anything go easily. 

Either on the spotlight or in a leadership position most times. They don’t look for it, it just happens. 

Sometimes overly protective, but they have quirky ways of showing that.

Not good at flirting, they're quite dorky about it, but somehow it works for them

˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆.⋆༘˚⋆

HOT as fuck. As in sensual and captivating.

Highly perceptive about the people around them, they like to wonder how the mind works.

They might look off standish, cold or uninterested, and yes, they might be most times but that doesn't make them bad people.

In reality they are trying to look cool while being shy and afraid of intimacy.

Highly intuitive.

Many times their expectations for themselves are insane, but their expectations for others are low.

Probably super into classic literature. Dante's Inferno specifically.

Quite romantic, but also kinda pretentious about it. Don't expect average gifs, expect something that is a reference to an obscure experimental new wave french film or something.

They don't joke about their spotify playlists.

. ˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒙.⋆༘˚⋆

Highly sensitive and creative but in a Lana del Rey kind of way.

They really have a sort of "old soul" vibe.

Too empathetic for their own good, but they are always working on it.

Staying at home is their favourite thing to do, specially if there's sweets involved.

Incredibly patient. They actually prefer slow-paced everything. Books, movies, shows, hobbies, everything.

Probably into crafty hobbies and podcasts.

They have a very low social battery, but they are always willing to put the effort if it is because of someone they appreciate.

Very proud of their roots and overall life journey.

Not very talkative, unless they have something they deem important and necessary to share.

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ personal readings

✶ ko-fi page ✶

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ available for personal readings ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[gremlingottoosilly]

Prostitute/Sex Worker!Reader that keeps taking pity on Loser!König and gives him extra minutes or makes breakfast for him

You usually don't even remember your clients. Some regulars, maybe, or weird creeps that you have to warn other girls about. But it's not like you're lucid enough during your time that you'd actually start the conversation besides a few phrases about preferred possessions, the need for a condom, and questions about payment. Konig is different in this regard - mostly because he is so fucking creepy and so pathetic at the same time that you feel almost the crushing need to remember him. Prepare for each time he comes to visit - which is a lot during some months, and radio silence during others. At first, you thought he would just dump too much money on you and would need some time to gain enough to rent you again, but then you got glimpses. A few more scars on his skin, a new bullet would - you searched the internet to know what it looked like healed and didn't like the results. a new flinching every time you would move too fast, so you'd have to adjust. To take things slowly, get him to stop behaving like a wounded animal. You can't help but take pity on him, not liking the way a poor guy is looking at you sometimes - like you're about to make fun of him. Or hurt him otherwise. You take pity on him and let him just hug you throughout the night, not even fucking you, despite paying a hefty fee for the additional hours. You're somewhat independent, and you can throw a coochie or two in the deal when you want to - but it seems like Konig wants anything but that. You made him coffee one time, some shitty instant brand that he had in his deserted cupboard, and then he left a few hundred Euros on the nightstand, on top of the stuff he had to pay before. You think it's weird - but also adorable, kinda. You don't mind getting money for not getting fucked, and you don't mind taking a pity on him. Then he asked how much it would be for you to stop working. Stop taking other clients, altogether - you're kinda on your own, you can afford to just exit and never have sex with other men again. You never thought of a price that would allow you to leave the business, and you don't intend to accept his money now. Not because you just love being a sex worker - but mostly because you recognize that psychotic glint in his eyes, and you really don't want to deal with it, so you politely decline. Konig politely nods and gets a month off the missions so he can take you with him - as politely as possible while apologizing the whole time and promising to never fuck you again unless you'd ask him for it. He will break the promise the second he sees you in the collar he got you (military grade, usually something used for K9 and war prisoners). He just hopes you'd be able to forgive him as long as he is fucking you as good as he did before.

[sparklingchim]

game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 3.4k

tropes: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss<3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels easier than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

Never in your life did you think you'd end up in a situation like this with your childhood best friend, Jungkook.

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck in the railings at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you. (Honestly, you’re still lowkey thinking this is all just prank).

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty, and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative – definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook is your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well. His entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You could feel Taesung’s gaze crawl over you – measuring, judging, already unsure. Across the table, Jungkook’s PR agent tilted her head, doubt written all over her perfectly lined face. They didn’t even try to hide it. The shared glances, the slight frown, the silence stretching a little too long. It all made your skin prickle.

Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook unless things bent in his favor.

With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

“We need to establish the narrative from the start,” Taesung said, his tone clipped, like he’d given this speech a hundred times. “When it started, who made the first move, all of it. The media’s going to pick this apart, and if your stories don’t align, it’ll be obvious.”

He moved on without missing a beat, outlining expectations for your public behaviour, how to handle fan reactions, and the kind of attention you’d be facing now. It was all about control. Controlling the narrative, the headlines, the way people looked at you when they saw you standing next to Jungkook, now as a girlfriend and just a friend anymore.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented. A second time.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other – hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which, in turn, makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "Were you doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. “And now I am being punished for it. Kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me.”

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then,” he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

~

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

Which is why, of course, you end up exactly there – couch, snacks, and him.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the shoulder, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

“You’re smart. The material is probably stuck in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything.”

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

[gtgbabie0]

{Roomate!Vi giving you what you deserve}

!!-18//MDNI-!! //CW// cheating (reader) slightly pervy vi fingering slight dumbification

Violet hates your girlfriend, no, like really hates your girlfriend. It’s stupid, if she’s being honest with herself. There was no actual sense to her hatred, hell she’s never even met the damn women! It’s just jealousy. An ugly feeling that has managed to root itself deep inside her, making her want to snap and just take you for herself— so well, she did.

You deserved better then whatever she was giving you, which clearly wasn’t a lot from the way you’re constantly whining and bitching, and the fact you’re currently taking three of Violets fingers— stuffed deep inside your wet cunt like you were made for it, practically swallowing them up.

Violet had grown sick and tired of listening to you go on and on about how she’s such a ‘horrible girlfriend’, how she ‘stood you up’ or has been ‘ignoring you’ or whatever other bullshit you complain about it. Honestly it was a daily thing.

But you’ve been extra snappy recently, so goddamn annoying with your little taunts and those lingering gazes— practically begging her to bend you over. All you needed was a good fuck and Violet was more than happy to help you out, kinda.

“What time is she picking you up again?” She says it all too casually as if she isn’t currently knuckle deep inside you— fucking you into her mattress with just her fingers.

Your lips part then close, struggling to find the words— if any at all. Nothing comes out just a jumble of needy moans as you try to close your thighs around her hand, writhing against her bed, hands fisting at her bedsheets.

“Can’t remember, huh? You even know what day it is, pretty girl?— or can you not speak, hmm?” She coos, grinning wolfishly, her soft blue eyes darkening as she curls her fingertips up against that spongy spot that makes you see double— head tipping back against her pillows, hips grinding up against her hand clumsily. “My fingers feel that good doll?”

It was a sight, seeing you all spread out for her— not your girlfriend, her. Violet was half tempted to get it on video, show it to your soon to be ex (she’s sure it isn’t gonna last long after this) how you liked to be fucked. Because hell if Vi hasn’t perfected the art of your body down to the fucking T within the span of five minutes.

“Nuh—yes!— just— ughh!” you give up trying to form a sentence. A low chuckle rumbles out from Vi’s chest as her free hand pushes on your thigh, roughly, spreading you back open with a tut— watching in awe as she stretches your greedy hole open with her digits, disappearing inside your wet heat, slick dribbling between her fingers, soaking her hand.

Oh and she so smug about it, and you would fight back, really!— tell her to shut the hell up or something if your mind wasn’t so mushed up by pleasure— but it was and here you are drooling into the pillows and Vi is drunk off of the picture you’re making.

"Look at you, getting fucked silly just from my fingers. Imagine if I had my strap in you, baby.” She leans down, brushing her nose against your flushed cheek, breath fanning across your jaw. “I'd fucking destroy your pretty pussy." her voice low, rough, a filthy promise, a thought that hasn’t left her mind since that time she ‘accidentally’ walked in on you showering— a thought she’s fucked herself to more then once during sleepless nights.

You think you might just let her— sure it’s really messed up, your girlfriend is literally blowing up your phone right now, buzzing on Violets bedside table— waiting outside your apartment and well… you’re too busy getting fucked dumb by your roommates fingers, hitting you in places you need, filling you up. You hate to admit it but you’ve never been so wet before, her sticky bedsheets a testament to that.

“Vi— Vi, Ahh— uh—uh!” Your hips canter eagerly, trying to keep up with her hand as her thumb rubs circles against your hard clit— marvelling at the way you’re desperately trying to grind your cunt against her hand, chasing after what you needed— your gummy walls clenching around her, squelching obscenely.

“Yeah? Bout to cum already—” then she’s pulling back, slick digits slipping out of your messy cunt as that hot tightness in your tummy dwindles away into a devastating nothing, and you swear you could start sobbing— “Girlfriends’ calling babe.” She nods over to your phone with a twinkle in her blue eyes.

“Wha?— god— I don’t— I don’t fucking care!” It’s a pathetic noise that leaves your lips as your hand darts down to try and grab at hers, guiding it back to your throbbing pussy, “Just— please put em back in Vi, please, please.” You mewl, tears trickling down your cheeks.

And she’s half tempted to— rough fingertips teasing along your sticky folds— if it wasn't for the violent banging at your front door that sounds out through the apartment, ripping through this little moment and you can’t help but whine— frustrated. “Well that’s a shame isn’t it baby? Have fun tonight.” A teasing smirk plastered across her lips. God, you hated her.

You spend the night with uncomfortably wet panties, nothing but Violet on your mind— Violet who spends her own night finger fucking her cunt, the same fingers that were in you. What a damn mess you’ve gotten into.

[tizeline]

Some snippets into Donnie's relationship to his brothers in the Separated AU

So after having figured out that Donnie is in fact their Long Lost Brother, the Drax Trio obviously want him back, and while Donnie is initially excited to find out that he has a bunch of siblings, he's less excited to find out that they're a bit, uh, evil. And they keep insulting April!! How dare they!!! Not to mention, he already has a dad, he doesn't need a new one! So no, Donnie isn't planning on just leaving his current family behind for this new one, and his brothers react to this in various different ways.

As much as Mikey wants Donnie back, Dr. Feelings understands that this is quite the adjustment for Donnie and that he may need some time to come to terms with the fact that he actually belongs with them and not with the humans. Mikey doesn't wanna force his brother to reunite with them, so instead he tries to convince Donnie to come home willingly through various ways. I mentioned this in an earlier post, but AU Mikey is essentially trying to give Donnie a redemption arc like Canon Mikey did with Draxum

Raph, however, sees Donnie and immedietly goes full Protective Big Brother Mode. He thinks the best course of action is to "forcefully rescue" (kidnap) him and and then convince him to stay and be apart of their family. He's can't help catastrophizing about all the way his baby brother is definitely being mistreated by Lou Jitsu and April and all the other evil humans oh NO they have to SAVE HIM!! The only reason he doesn't is because no one else in the Draxum family thinks it's a good idea

And then Leo. I'll go more into detail about Leo's character in this AU at a later dat cuz hhhhhhh but basically, he's still dealing with pretty intense Middle Child Syndrome and the LAST thing he need is another middle child joining the family! Why are all his family members so obsessed with getting Donnie back anyway? He's already clearly chosen the human side so why waste their time on him! .....Now that's not entirely the whole truth, he's kinda ecstatic when he first meets Donnie, except Donnie doesn't seem to care about them any, which... ouch.

Another way to describe their dynamic would be similar to their canon dynamic, a lot of friendly bickering.... except they don't really know each other and are also enemies here so like.... UNfriendly bickering.... which is just bickering lol. They fight a lot, is what I'm getting at.

Anyway you know the family dinner scene with Draxum in season 2 of the show? Yeah, Mikey tries that tactic here too. Like I said, Mikey wants to be patient with Donnie, but he does eventually get a bit tired of Donnie acting so hostile all the time so he starts organizing hangouts for the four of them (attendence is mandatory!)

And poor Donnie, this whole situation is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for him, as you might imagine. Reuniting with your secret lost family is fun for all of five seconds before you find out that they're actually kinda messed up uh oh. A big reason why Donnie acts so hostile towards his brothers is because it's easier for him to just dismiss them as mere enemies that he feels no attatchment to. He's basically being made to pick between this new family and his old one is Not Fun.

[gatorbites-imagines]

I had this idea, because I was doing some crochet.

A reader who had made a lot of crochet stuff for all the X-MEN (most of it was requested from them to the reader) and Logan noticed everyone had something handmade except him. His bratty side kicks in and he wants something from the reader. (though the reader can make him a cardigan cause he is a grandpa or like a glove that has holes for his claws so he doesn't reap them apart) you can go feral with it 👀

Scott Summers, Kurt Wagner, Remy LeBeau, Robert “Bobby” Drake, Logan Howlett

Headcanons

Theres too many x-men, so I just,,,added my faves *blush blush* I also decided to write a little thing for everybody, like my CoD posts.

Crochet was your passion, something to do in your free time when mutant-kind wasn’t in danger. And with online shopping, it was so easy to get all the yarn and different hooks, patterns and recipes you might need.

So, of course you also feel the need to make stuff for all the people you care about. After filling your own room and wardrobe with all the stuff you could crochet, your yarn empire started to fill your friends closets and rooms too.

Scott Summers

For Scott you end up crocheting a couple of hats, and multiple pairs of gloves. Some you already had laying around, and just decided to throw into the pile.

What could you say? You were scared he was gonna freeze his ears when he went around in his visor. This meant you crocheted different hats depending on if he wore his visor or his shades, hats that wouldn’t get too in the way.

It was a little hard for Scott to be a leader in the colorful creations you made, but everyone knew it was just your way of showing you cared. So, it made sense for the leader of the team to get the first gifts.

After a while Scott will wear the things, you make even if it isn’t too cold outside, even working it into his everyday outfits if he needs a little bit of accessories. Sometimes a hat really helps with the look, you know?

Kurt Wagner

For Kurt you make a scarf. It was a crochet of the moment. You two were on a stakeout, which took way longer than planned, in a pretty cold place. So, you pulled out your crochet stuff and started going at it.

Before you knew it, there was a comfortable scarf in your hands. You had been smart enough to dress correctly for the mission, but Kurt hadn’t, so of course the scarf when around his neck. You may also have scolded him a bit for not dressing right for the mission.

Kurt absolutely loves the scarf, and will wear it whenever its even just a little chilly outside. It makes you want to make him even more, especially when he starts getting sad about the first one fraying apart.

In the end he has as many scarfs as Scott has hats. One for every weather, in different colors, so he can match them with whatever he’s wearing.

Remy LeBeau(and Anna Marie)

For Remy you end up making him a hoodie, in his usual colors. It had mainly been a spur of the moment creation on your end, since you just had a lot of yarn in that color laying around.

It hadn’t even really been made with Remy in mind, but our beloved Cajun was quick to swoop in and take it off your hands when you weren’t sure what to do with it. and you, just wanting to make stuff for others, are more than happy to let him.

He wouldn’t wear it every day, but you do see him snuggle up in the warm yarn hoodie whenever it starts to get chilly. Hes also more than happy to use it as an excuse to snuggle with Anna Marie, using it as some kind of silly flirt.

In the end you make Anna Marie a matching hoodie, making it a little too big for her, as well as making it the same colors as Remy, so they can switch hoodies whenever they want. Its kinda like getting to hug Remy, in a way, so Anna Marie enjoys it.

Robert “Bobby” Drake

You make Bobby a blanket, it’s as easy as that. You actually end up making him multiple blankets. You didn’t really have an understanding if his mutation made him even able to feel cold, or if it made him feel extra cold?

So, the first blanket was placed by the door to his room, since you didn’t wanna invade his privacy. Bobby may not feel cold, but he loves the blanket anyways, especially since you try your best to make it in his favorite colors, or featuring different stuff he likes.

Its actually Bobby that asks if you can make him a second blanket, since he needs to wash the first one and has gotten so used to having the heavy yarn blanket on top of his other blankets at night. And you, being the great person you are, immediately get to work.

He ends up with a bit of a collection of blankets over the years, though most of them stay in his closet since he can’t really use all of them at once. He does pull them out when the x-men are doing movie nights and stuff like that though.

Logan Howlett

It took a while for Logan to realize he was the only one who hadn’t been given anything you crocheted. And… He’s not mad obviously, why would he be, it’s just crochet. He’s maybe a little jealous though, somewhere under all that gruffness.

He wouldn’t say anything, Logans way too proud for that, but he does start hovering around a bit whenever you crochet, just to look… nothing else.

There are also of course some jokes from the others about how he hasn’t been given anything, so you must not like him, or it’s because he’s always coming and going as he pleases so he’s never there at the right time to swoop in for the kill (whatever you made).

Of course, he denies hating you, or wanting anything you make. But the jokes just reach you, and it horrifies you somewhat. What if Logan really thinks you hate him? That would be the worst, because of course you don’t. the only reason you hadn’t made anything for him was because he wasn’t in front of your face, and you were a little scatterbrained when you made stuff.

You didn’t want to be too obvious about your plans, so you try to subtly get his measurements, and just kinda go off of that. Luckily the x-men system has some stuff you can use noted down. In the end you make him a nice grey cardigan, with those big pockets on the sides. It does not go above your head that it’s the kinda stuff you’d see a grandpa wear. But you think he would like it anyway.

Logan finds the cardigan by his door, like you leave all your gifts. And no, he doesn’t jump up and down or cheer, but he does give a more positive sounding gruff noise than usual.

He may also have been preening just a little the next day when he wore it, just because it felt nice to be thought about, okay? Nothing else.

It also just makes you happy to see him enjoy it so much, so you end up making him some other stuff too. Who’d have thought he would love blankets and throwpillows so much. It ends up in his “not a nest” bed pile. He also enjoys the gloves with holes for his claws too, so they were worth all the hard work.