#i'm actually considering changing her mouth a bit

[sturnsdarling]

You're much better company, tough girl

fratboy!matt has met his match with smartand'mean'!reader, and he can't get enough of her

vibe check: SMUT, mattthemunch, unprotected cuddle time (I'd tell you to wrap it but i'm not your mother) bigdick!matt, choking, spitting, praise, reader strumming the bean, pet names (angel, tough girl), all that good stuff.

4k words

A/N: This concept was born from and is my take on the wonderful, amazing and ridiculously talented @sturnioz fratboy!matt au, and its also my first fic so, be kind. PSA REGARDING PART 2

love and cigs, merc

The autumn air was cold, and the fishnets on your legs weren’t doing you any favours. you’d snuck out the party to escape the weirdo guy that was basically stalking you since you had arrived. You'd hoped to find your friend, but she was somewhere tangled up with one of the resident frat boys, her shy demeanour acting like catnip to the renowned player Chris Sturniolo. You found yourself outside the front of the house, genuinely considering leaving, but knowing your friend would need company once Chris inevitably got bored of her. From around the corner, you heard  a lighter flick and the deep inhale that normally follows, turning and walking down to the side of the house, you saw a shadowy figure being periodically illuminated by the butt of his cigarette. 

"What're you doin’ out here?" you questioned, walking over to Matt who was leant against the side of the house, trying to escape the "new age, shit rap music" Chris put on.

Matt held up the cig in his fingers and gave you a short smile, before placing the cigarette between his lips and taking a long drag, his jawline becoming even more prominent as his cheeks hollowed slightly. 

"Thought you didn't smoke?" you said, arms folded over your chest as the cold air bit at your nearly bare legs. 

"I don't smoke weed, but, I do love my cigs" He held the open box out to you and you pulled one out, placing it between your lips gently. He brandished his silver lighter in front of your face and lit the cigarette, absentmindedly staring at the way the flame illuminated your features. 

"Chris is the stoner, kid fuckin' loves it" He said as he flicked the lighter closed and placed it back in his pocket. 

"Cigarettes still contain drugs, y'know that right?" You smirked, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out with every word. 

"Yes, smart-ass I know that" He quipped back, "everyone needs a vice, you know?" 

You giggled slightly as his philosophy, "a vice? you need something to help you escape the plaguing reality of being a frat bro?”, smiling as you placed the cig between your teeth and took another drag.

“Ugh, don't call me that" he responded, spitting the foul taste out of his mouth onto the floor, "besides..." He paused to take a drag, "If I was a frat bro, which I'm not, I could have a plaguing sense of reality, frat boys have feelings too you know, kid" he smiled, his perfect teeth almost reflecting the light from the street lamps. 

“oh, do tell, what plagues the infamous Matthew Sturniolo" you grinned at him, rolling your eyes in faux sympathy.

"Infamous? ouch.” He held his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. 

Pausing for a moment, he looked at you and then to the floor, shuffling where he leant slightly and shrugging his shoulders, "I dunno, l've always got somthin' going on up there" He gestured to his temple with the cig in his fingers.

“But, 'nough about me, what're you doin' out here?" he asked, desperately trying to change the topic from himself, pointing his cigarette at you in an accusatory

"Came lookin’ for you" you said, blowing the smoke from your pursed lips. 

His eyebrows raised at your confession, "Me?" He questioned. 

"mhm" You nodded, taking another drag. 

“Why?” his brows furrowed as smoke bellowed out his open mouth. 

“I didn’t actually, jus' thought you’d like the flattery” You chuckled, ashing your cigarette.

“wow, okay, how tough are you?” He smirked, standing up from his leant position and throwing his cigarette to the floor, just before stamping it out. 

“Me? tough? never.” You said sarcastically, placing your cigarette back in your mouth. 

Matt came forward slightly and pulled the tiny stick from your lips, placing it between his own and taking a drag whilst maintaining a firm stare. You watched him intently, your big eyes burning holes into his as he placed the cigarette back into your mouth. 

“You didn’t answer my question, kid” he said, his tone faltering as he blew the smoke from his mouth.

a long huff left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, “I needed to escape this guy, he was fuckin’ relentless and I was not into it”. 

Matt paused for a moment, still baring down into you, “yeah?” half of his teeth coming onto display as a smirk encapsulated his face, “what are you into?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly so he was even closer to you, his breath nearly touching the cold apples of your cheeks. 

As he was speaking you took a long drag, and in response to his clear attempt to rile you up, you blew the smoke into his face with pursed lips and a smile. Matt blinked slowly with raised brows at your bravery, letting the wind carry the smoke from his face. 

“What do you think i’m into, Matthew?” you asked, matching his earlier cadence. 

“I think, you act all tough, but really, you want someone to tell you to sit down, shut up, and to take it like the pretty, pretty girl you are” he said, so non-challant you’d think he was explaining that the sky is blue. 

Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes fluttered slightly, not quite fully closing. 

A cheshire cat smile formed on Matts face, he knew exactly what type of girl you were from the moment he laid eyes on you on the first day of the semester. 

“You think I’m pretty?” you asked in a condescending tone, pulling your confidence back, trying to ignore the growing sensation in your stomach. 

Matt simply nodded in response, tucking a messy strand of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trail down past your neck and over your bare arms. At some point during your back and forth, Matt had edged his face impossibly close to yours, he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled your head up to face him, 

“I think you’re beautiful, tough girl” he whispered, almost into your mouth as it parted with his words. 

With that, you threw your cigarette to the floor and thrust your lips into his, the force pushing him backwards to into the wall he was leant on only moments ago. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tight against him as yours pulled and tugged at the loose brown curls on the back of his head. The kiss was feverish, animalistic and messy, you were positioned snug between his legs as one of his hands found its way to the covered flesh of your ass, he squeezed it with a low growl and slapped it quickly after, rubbing the sting away with a soft hand. The sensation caused you to whimper into his mouth, jolting against him as his hand smacked your ass. He chuckled into the kiss, his hands roaming all the way up your back and into your hair. He pulled you off him with a firm hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you make noises like that” he dipped his head down, capturing your neck in his teeth and soothing the sting with a flat, warm tongue. 

“Matt” you whispered, your head hanging on your shoulders, resting in Matts large palm. “What’s up, angel?” he murmured from the curve where your neck and shoulders meet.

“I’m not—shit— I’m not gonna fuck you round the side of your house” You manage to get out, slightly distracted by the sensation of Matt nipping at sucking at your neck. 

“Let’s go inside then” You even mentioning fucking him was enough permission to take your hand and drag you inside. 

The music boomed against your skull as he pulled you through the party with your hand in his, both of you ignoring everyone that tried to spark up some kind of drunken conversation. He led you up the large staircase in the centre of the main room, his focus on your destination only faltering to glance at Chris who, had your best friend tucked under his arm on the sofa, the pair exchanged a knowing look and Chris shot Matt a wink, quickly returning his attentions to the shy girl perched next to him. As you and Matt reached the top of the staircase, he turned, pulling you into him for the second time that night for a desperate kiss. This time, he leant down, taking the backs of your thighs in his hands with a tap that you knew meant ‘jump’. You obliged and within moments, you were being thrust into his dimly lit bedroom. He kicked the door closed with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and walked the two of you over to his bed, placing you down somewhat gently onto the brown satin sheets. 

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” he said breathlessly, breaking the kiss to tear off his red sweatshirt. 

“I think you mentioned it once or twice” You replied, desperately clawing at the back of his neck to pull him back into you, your legs loose around his waist. 

“Such a smart-ass” he groaned, his hand suddenly gripping your throat as he pushed you back down onto his sheets, squeezing the sides of your neck. 

You moaned at the sensation, brows furrowing as your hips involuntarily bucked upwards. Matt chucked at your responsiveness, his hand trailing down your chest to toy with the hem of your top. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, softly. 

“mhm” you nodded, desperately. 

“Words, angel, I need words” he halted his movements, his voice stern. 

“Yes, Matt, take it off, please”  The pleading in your tone evident, despite your attempt to be moody. 

“Begging already? I knew I’d like you” with that he pulled your top over your head and left you exposed in your lacy black bra, your hard nipples perking through the sheer fabric. 

“Fuck” Matt uttered under his breath, his large hands roaming around your nearly bare torso. 

He couldn’t help himself, he leant down, pulling the thin fabric from your tit and wrapped his mouth around your hardened nipple, grinding down onto your core as he did, chasing the friction. Your head rolled back at the feeling, and as if on instinct, your hips rolled against his. Matt trailed his kisses down your stomach, each one igniting a hot fire all over your skin. He hooked his fingers round the hem of your skirt, still trailing hot, wet kisses down your heaving torso. He looked up at you, being met with your pleading eyes staring down at him.

“Can I?” he tugged slightly at your skirt. 

“yes, please” you nodded frantically, lifting your hips up to aid him in removing the fabric that separated his mouth from your aching cunt. 

“Such a fast learner, such a good girl” he smiled as he pulled your skirt down over your knees, leaving you in nothing but your bra, fishnets and thin black panties. 

“Jesus christ” he said as he perched on his knees by the edge of the bed, “these are staying on” he said, caressing your legs with firm hands. 

He edged his hands further down towards your core, spreading your thighs apart for him as he lowered himself down, hooking your legs over his shoulders. As his hands reached where you ached for him the most, he pressed firm fingers across your pussy, rubbing upwards and finishing his movement with a short circle of both of his thumbs over your throbbing clit. With one quick motion, he ripped a hole in your fishnets, exposing your dripping cunt to him as your wetness seeped through the thin fabric of your thong. His eyes might as well have sparkled at the sight, 

“Look at that, tough girl, you’re all wet over me taking charge” he said, taking a finger and swiping it up the wetness that had collected  at the entrance to your pussy. 

You whimpered, bucking your hips once again at the stimulation, whining slightly in attempts to coax him into touching you properly. 

“I need to taste you, angel, can I?” he asked, like a boy begging to stay up to see Santa on christmas morning. 

“Yes, Matt, please, fuckin' hurry up already” you whine, desperate and aching for any sense of relief from this agonising feeling. 

He didn’t need any more permission, with a low hum (more like a fucking growl), he pulled your soaked panties to the side with vigour and latched his mouth around your clit. Your back arched off the bed immediately, his tongue sending sweet euphoria up your spine as it toyed with your sensitive bud. The moan that escaped you was pornographic, and it only egged him on further. He slipped his tongue into your entrance, lapping at the juices that seeped from your hole as his thumb found your clit, moving in slow circles over the sensitive bud. He moaned into your pussy, as if he was getting off on eating you out, the vibrations from his groaning only adding to the knot growing in your stomach. Your hands found his hair, tugging at the messy brown curls that covered his beautiful face as he devoured you. 

“Fuck, Matt, that feels so fucking good” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he moved once more to suck on your clit. 

His fingers swirled and prodded at your slick entrance, your walls nearly sucking him in as they clenched around nothing. He took your incessant moans as invitation to insert two long fingers all the way inside of you, curling up into that perfect gummy spot as he did. Your thighs clenched around his head, tensing and shaking as he brought you to the edge. He raised himself up slightly, pushing your legs apart with his forearms and pinning you down under his weight, his fingers relentlessly curling into you as he sucked and lapped at your clit, desperate to make you come undone all over his mouth. You tugged at his curls once more, earning a deep groan from him that vibrated around your clit and, that feeling, coupled with the warm pressure of his body weight on your thighs and his intense, animalistic eye contact, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body shaking as you moaned his name over and over again, bucking your hips up into his face as he continued his pace, mercilessly lapping at your sopping pussy. You started to tether on the edge of overstimulation just as he pulled his mouth from you, his fingers still pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. You stared down at him with fluttery eyes, your fingers caressing his scalp as he helped you ride out your orgasm with a tender smile and tiny bites down the inside of your thigh. 

He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet, the bed shifted under his weight as he brought himself up to hover over you. 

He traced the outline of your plump lips with the tip of his finger, asking for invitation. You obliged and opened your mouth, exposing a flat tongue to him. 

“Taste how sweet you are, angel. fuckin’ delicious” He said, placing his fingers on your tongue before edging them down your throat, watching intently as you gagged around them. 

He chuckled slightly at your submissiveness, pulling his fingers from your throat and trailing them down your chin. He placed a firm palm on the front of your neck and pulled you into a kiss, his face still wet from your cum. You whimpered into the kiss, frantic hands moving down in between you in attempts to unbutton his jeans. He smiled into the kiss and squeezed the sides of your throat with his fingers, bucking his hips into your hands as they freed him of the confines of the thick denim. He assisted you in pushing his jeans down his legs, not once breaking the kiss as he expertly shuffled them off and kicked them across the room. He crawled back on top of you and pushed you further up the bed, with one hand on the back of your thigh and the other round your neck, he hooked your leg over his waist and began to grind down into your sensitive core, the fabric of his black boxers giving just the right amount of friction between you. 

“Matt, I need you inside of me, now.” you whine, the demand sending shivers up Matts spine as he locked eyes with you. 

“What’s the magic word, pretty girl” He smirked, you rolled your eyes in response and brought your other leg to hook around his waist, your feet locking him in. 

“Please, matt” you reluctantly (you loved it) begged. 

“So good for me, angel” he smiled as your hands snaked their way into his boxers, palming his hard cock. 

Your eyes widened slightly at the size and he noticed, a sense of pride washing over him, “Bigger than you thought it would be?” he smirked.

 A wave of nervousness overcame you but you pushed it down, biting your lip and tightening your grip on his throbbing member, “I always knew you’d be huge, the quiet ones always are” you said, pumping him slowly. 

He couldn’t help but rut into your hand, his head falling into the curve of your neck as he palmed your tit, pinching at your hard nipple whilst his other hand left bruises on your thigh. Small whispers left his mouth and fell onto your skin, his warm breath only turning you on even more. You pushed his boxers down completely and he kicked them off, looking down at where you were attempting to line him up with your weeping entrance. 

“So needy, huh? tough girl? lemme help you angel” He pressed his tip against your folds and aided you in guiding himself into your slick walls. 

The feeling of him stretching you out made your back arch off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for some sort of leverage. He chuckled slightly, slowly thrusting his leaking tip in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size inch by inch as he trailed soft kisses down your jaw and neck, biting every so often only to sooth the sting with his warm tongue. 

The feeling was euphoric, he was somehow keeping you between feeling completely satisfied and overstimulated all at once. 

“fuck, angel” he drew out, “y'so fuckin’ tight and m'not even half way in— Jesus christ- y'gonna be the death of me” he grunted, capturing your open mouth in a wet and tender kiss, his tongue pressed against yours as he thrusted into you completely, bottoming out. 

You both moan at the feeling, your legs tensed around his waist and your arms found home draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair. 

He pulled out of you almost entirely, still kissing you mercilessly before thrusting into you again, this time with a lot more force. You moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair to counter the sting of your pussy, blissfully stretched out around him and aching for him to move faster. 

Matt broke the kiss, taking your jaw in his hand and squeezing your mouth open, he gathered a ball of spit in his mouth and lowered it towards yours. You caught it on your tongue and swallowed it with a smile as he watched in awe.

“You’re perfect” he uttered, leaning down to kiss your squished lips before releasing your jaw and earning another smile from you. 

With that, he set a relentless pace, fucking you into the bed with each hard thrust. You moaned out his name, pulling him in impossibly close to you with both your grip round his waist and your hands in his hair. His head fell next to yours, hot breath panting in your ear as he moaned and whimpered at the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him. 

“Fuck matt, you're so big, stretching me out s’much, oh my fucking god” you trail off, your words bouncing with every merciless thrust. 

“Take it angel, fuckin’ take it, I know you can” he panted into your ear, sucking on the lobe. 

He slowed his pace but fucked you harder, each thrust inciting a pornographic moan from your lips. 

“you sound s'good when you moan, so fuckin’ sexy” he groaned, pounding into you harder just to earn those beautiful whimpers from you. 

His tip formed a bulge in your lower stomach, poking out of you over and over again as he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge for the second time that night. You brought a hand up to his mouth, silently asking for permission to collect some spit from the pad of his tongue, he obliged, biting your fingers slightly before you pulled them from his mouth and placed them down between the two of you, rubbing fast circles over your clit. The stimulation made your walls clench around him, milking his painfully hard cock. 

“Fuck, oh my, fuck, keep doing that, pretty girl, keep touching yourself for me” his command comes out in a near whimper. 

“Matt, m'gonna— “ before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your thighs shaking around his waist as white hot tingles covered your entire body, you clenched your eyes shut and all you could see was stars as you came all over his dick. 

“You’re clenching me so hard right now angel, y'gonna make me cum, look at me pretty girl, please, let me see those pretty eyes” Matt rambled as his high was rapidly approaching, his pace quickening as his movements became sloppy, 

“cum inside me, please matt, I need it” you cried out, still reeling in the after shock of your crippling orgasm. 

With your pleading, he realised strings of warm cum inside you, coating your walls as he fucked his seed into you, riding out his orgasm, shaking and trying desperately not to buckle completely on top of you. 

He thrusted in and out a few more times before reluctantly pulling out, the cold air hitting his softening cock as he fell down next to you, immediately bringing you into his side and pulling at your limbs so you were lazily draped over him. 

You laid there, panting in each others arms, both trying to catch your breath as the sound of the party suddenly became more prominent from the other side of his bedroom door. “You” he said, still catching his breath, “are incredible.” He turned his head to look down at you.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Matthew” you smiled, bringing your finger to trace along his pink bottom lip. 

He watched as you admired the plump skin for a moment and with a smile, he bit the tip of your finger. You giggled and pulled your hand from his mouth, resting it on his now steady chest. 

“Can I see you again?” he asked, captivated by the way your face lights up when you laugh. 

“If you actually start coming to classes, you’ll see me all the time” you taunted him.

“Oh, I’m gonna have the best fuckin’ attendance in this whole college” he responded, pulling you fully on top of him. 

You squealed at the sudden movement and shifted to straddle his lap. You sat up, looking down at him as he tugged and needed at the flesh around your hips. 

“They’re all probably wondering where you are” you said, referring to the hoard of people in his home. 

“Fuck ‘em, they’re all losers anyway” he leant up closer to you, a sneaky hand came and wrapped itself around your neck, pulling you desperately close to his face.

“You’re much better company, tough girl” he whispered through a smile before capturing your mouth in a tender yet rough kiss.

[xiaoriae]

TERMS OF ENDEARMENT.

pairing. neuvillette & wriothesley x gn!reader (separate) ★ genre. established relationship au & fluff. ★ wc. 1.2k

synopsis. calling out the fontaine men by their pet names!

contents. pet names (reader's: dear, darling, etc.), lovestruck neuvillette :( , may contain an inaccurate description of the melusine's tail bcs i'm dumb, a really minimal spoiler from the 4.0 archon quest (regarding hydro dragon and rain) in neuvillette's, mention of sedene (the melusine outside neuvie's office), neuvillette just wants his kith >:( , wriothesley might be ooc bcs we all love him despite not knowing him yet, mentions of sigewinne in wrio's, made-up [1] fontaine law and background setting, and an assumption of sigewinne is the one who often treats wrio's injuries(?).

a/n. first, idk who to pull for; either neuvi or wrio bcs i alr have hydro and cryo dps :cries: but srsly, the v4.1 trailer has me on my knees for these two men (in a respectful manner of course).

support banner and animated line dividers by @/cafekitsune on tumblr.

ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄

neuvillete would never admit it out loud.

how you left him in awe every time he heard you calling out for his attention—monsieur neuvillette in a formal setting, but instead referring him as neuvie when in private.

something about it had always made neuvillette's chest just a little bit tightened at the way the name rolled off your tongue oh-so-eloquently, and he often found himself staring at your lips a second longer than what everyone would consider as appropriate.

oh, how he would love to peck your lips, feeling them against his, even for a brief moment.

it was an embarrassing thought sitting at the little corner of his mind. he was ashamed at how easily you had him on your mercy.

"neuvie," your voice came out a tad bit softer after seeing him spacing out—in which was totally not a norm to see him staring far ahead and at you, though not until recently.

"are you alright, love?"

he swore he felt his heart dropped. it was a double kill to him, who recently figured out that he loved you more than he initially thought he would. how endearing of you to call him with such names, it was cute. a perfect adjective to describe you.

"nothing, dear," his voice resonated through the room, and you realised how he looked at the perfect weather illuminating his office through the window.

you looked at him back, skeptical as to why the corner of his mouth seemed to form a fine curve, but you shrugged the feeling as soon as it came. maybe he was happy, considering the sunny and chilly weather outside.

and his feeling mattered to you the most.

"monsieur neuvillette," you called him out again.

this time, neuvillette could barely hide the frown that was about to form on his face. why did you call him that? why the sudden change of attitude? he was confused. especially when he felt the soft touches on his hair.

you were patting his head, occasionally fixing his hair as neuvillette slightly leaned in to feel the warmth only you could exude.

"it is about time for today's trial, chief justice. lady furina must have been waiting for you at the opera house," you gently reminded him, feeling the way his shoulders tensed.

oh—how stupid of him, he thought. he finally understood why you called him by his title, there was sedene all along at the door.

the melusine looked at both of you in amusement, he could tell by the way her tail was wagging.

"another minute, dear?" his voice was low enough, seemingly to avoid the melusine's attention as he sighed.

you beamed a small smile at him, making neuvillette felt ten times heavier to let go of you and go to the court. "no, neuvie," you rubbed soft circles at the back of his hand, and neuvillette fought the urge to intertwine his finger with yours.

he fought the urge to kiss you on your lips—his name sounded so precious coming out from you. it actually pained his heart at how irreplaceable you were in his life. 

"after the court session is over, we can cuddle all we want, yeah?" you pecked his cheek, and neuvillette thought he could die happily if this was the treatment he would get—a reward worth billions of mora if this was what you gave him from cherishing and loving you.

and he would love to hear and love you forever.

ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

inside the fortress of meropide, the only person that could make wriothesley's burdens felt lighter was you, and only you. to see that you enjoyed your time being here—although the fortress was everything except fun and colours—and sometimes helped sigewinne with her infirmary stuff, he felt a part of him was proud at how kind and brave you were. 

wriothesley loved looking at you teasing and babying sigewinne. it was another trait that made him clicked with you so well—despite his profession and the countless dangers he might have brought along.

he remembered the first time you insisted to tag along with him to the infamous underwater prison. no one could enter and exit the fortress whenever they wanted, and you managed to prove him wrong. now that your reputation was well-known within the area, it seemed that the law on permitting outsiders to get into the fortress with thorough screening process didn't really seem to be applicable to you.

every garde recognised you. every staff and people and melusine alike—all had acknowledged you in their work space.

so when you introduced yourself as wriothesley's other half, it was understandable that your name made it in the headlines and became the monthly issue from the steambird.

'after all, the duke doesn't really seem to be the lover type, isn't he?'

"hi, handsome," you waved at wriothesley, who seemed to just finish with an interrogation session with one of the criminals. a stack of papers was in his grip.

his eyes widened at the way you called him with that word which often failed to not make his heart thumped against his chest.

"good evening, darling," he scoffed when he felt the way his voice almost cracked. the random terms of endearment you threw at him had always made his actions cut short and his words to be stuck in his throat. "what are you doing here? did i not say to go back home at 5? it is late."

"mhm," you hummed.

pointing at the clipboard in your right hand which wriothesley had realised was there all along, you explained yourself. "was running an errand for sigewinne. the poor nurse had some troubles so i lent a hand or two," you said while tapping wriothesley's shoulder thrice, feeling proud of yourself for contributing a cent around the fortress.

you then involuntarily fixed his tie, still giving him the proud smile you often wore.

wriothesley sent you a soft smile at that, contradicting the multitude of scars littered across his body.

of course his favourite person was the one who was kind enough to help sigewinne—it was as if you silently repaid sigewinne's past deeds of treating his injuries. how could anyone would not love you for that, he thought.

your heart swelled at the sight. your partner was quite soft at heart when he smiled, despite the roughness he portrayed.

you were staring at his face with those sparkles he never knew could exist in one's eyes. it was too much, but wriothesley thought he would just mentally appreciate the pure loving look you gave him.

"this will do. now my man looks dashing as always."

it took him exactly three seconds to understand what you meant. you were fixing his appearance, and he felt his face became a little bit warmer. my man, he unconsciously repeated the words in his mind.

if sigewinne saw the two of you being so lovey dovey in public—well, maybe both of you were done for.

"the gesture is very much appreciated, darling," he chuckled.

"you are very welcome, sir," you replied, mimicking the small chuckles he sent towards you.

"since both of us have already worked overtime, let us grab a bite?" you swung your arm around his, interlocking with the arm that often held you with such gentleness.

"alright," wriothesley gave in to your suggestion, long forgotten where he should be heading before crossing his path with you. "let us go on a date."

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[wordsarelife]

—style

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco and you always come back to each other, sneaking around in secret, unable to let go, even though it’s getting harder to hide and maybe you're not willing to keep the secret any longer

warnings: slight angst but ends in fluff, height difference mentioned

your back was leaning against the castle's wall, arms crossed, you quirked a brow at the boy across from you. he was spotting a similiar expression, his arms crossed like you and face in a deep frown, unmoving as you nodded for him to talk.

"i'm not gonna apologize first" you shrugged, deciding to have it like this if he wanted to be difficult.

"well, me neither" he spat, voice venomous as he looked at you unimpressed, your threat not having the least bit of effect on him. "i wouldn't even know what for"

"you were the one that came back, draco" you reminded. "we agreed that whoever came back first had to apologize"

"well, i'm not doing that"

"then i'm not kissing you" you shrugged, turning your body as if to leave, before his hand grabbed your shoulder, turning you back around in a swift motion.

before you could protest or say anything else about his sudden action, his lips were on yours, pulling you in through the feeling that evaporated in your body.

you moaned into his mouth, not even caring that he didn't apologize, as he pressed you against the wall.

draco and you came from completely different worlds. he was a proud slytherin, someone that valued social standing and reputation above everything else.

you were a gryffindor, hanging along the golden trio most of the time, but basically being friends with everyone, no matter who they were or from which family they came. you didn't mind as long as you liked them.

draco and you had hated each other from the first encounter on. arrogant as he was, he had introduced himself to harry, muttering something about the wrong kind of people (eyeing ron and you) he had chosen to spend his time with.

you rivalry reached it's peak during third year when hermione had hit him and you had caught him days later as he was trying to throw something into her cauldron during potions class. you had slapped his hand back, resulting in him breathing in whatever he had held in there and spending a week in the infirmary, throwing up hours on end.

you gained two weeks of detention from snape, but quickly decided it was worth it, considering you had saved your friend from an even worse fate.

but the real change of your relationship had begun during fourth year. you had noticed that he grew into his looks and you couldn't believe it, but his cockiness actually attracted you.

draco continued making no secret of disliking you and your friends, but you noticed his eyes linger on you longer than they had before.

it had been a week of constant fighting, hormones high and upcoming exams stressing the both of you, where one thing had led to another and you found yourselves in shared detention with professor mcgonagall who punished you to sort through and clean her classroom.

"this is all your fault" draco muttered, cloth in hand as he rubbed it along the table, that picked the water up quickly.

"sure" you nodded with a role of your eyes. the row of goblets in front of you, used for the first year classes, turning out to be a particular hard thing to clean. "as if you didn't start the fight"

"i merely concluded obvious information"

"pff" you made, sending him a glare across the room. "that's not what i would call it"

"let's hear it then, genius"

"i'd call it an uneven distribution of arrogance and stupidity" you smiled smugly as you set down another goblet in front of you.

"you take that back!" draco let go off the cloth in his hand and dashed across the room, pushing his hands to his hips and looking down on you as if to try and dare you to say more.

"no" you shook your head, rising up from your chair so you were on an even level with him.

"one last chance, l/n"

"or what? you will send daddy to straigthen me out?" you puffed air out between your lips, not even caring about his answer. "you've been using the same empty threats for years, malfoy, it's honestly gotten boring at this point."

his eyes widened, switching to collect the glimmer of your lips as a memory and before he could properly think of what he was doing, he had closed the space between you, kissing you softly.

it had taken exactly ten seconds for both of you to realize what had happened, quickly breaking apart.

"you just kissed me!" you muttered stunned, pointing an accusing finger in his direction.

"you kissed me" he shook his head, just as shocked as you, as he tried to remember what had happened exactly.

"no" you corrected firmly. "i'm not taking the blame for this mess. this is solely on you"

"you kissed back though" he concluded, with a final nod. "don't ever do that again"

"well, okay?" you shrugged "i won't as long as you don't ever kiss me again"

the tension between you was palpable, as you kept holding eye contact, no one of you moving as both of you tried to find out what the kiss would mean for your relationship, or more so lack of, moving forward.

it had been a sudden decision, maybe because you had spent all your years at school trying to one up draco malfoy, but you didn't think twice, before you pushed your mouth against his once more.

this time the kiss lasted longer and both of you had to catch your breath.

"i thought i told you to never do that again"

you nodded, before you smirked, "you said i should never kiss you back"

"yeah" he nodded, admitting that you hadn't done anything he had forbidden. "and you said i should never kiss you again"

"never is such a harsh word" you shrugged and just half a second later you were kissing once more, your hands gliding into his neck as you pressed him closer.

what began that day in the classroom accompanied you through the school years that followed. you and draco would put on a facade in front of your friends and pretend like you still couldn't stand each other, which was, to be honest, not even far from the truth considering he still constantly annoyed you. all while you would meet in secret, sneaking around the castle and hooking up with each other behind everyone's back.

apart from sleeping with each other not much changed between you. you never declared what you did to be a relationship, although both of you never met other people.

draco was the one constant through your teenage years. sometimes you would go longer without the other, but you would always come back, like a drug you couldn't stop taking even if it had the potential to destroy you in the end.

draco ended the kiss, pressing his forehead against your own. "sorry" he muttered and you furrowed your brows in surprise.

he had never apologised before, even if that was your rule. he would always suck up for a while, until you finally accepted that he was somewhat sorry, without actually saying it.

"hmm" you hummed, pressing one more kiss against his mouth, before you broke away and grabbed your bag off the floor. "we've got herbology"

draco nodded and turned around, picking up his own bag. "i'll go around the courtyard, you'll go now"

"sure" he softly grabbed your neck with his hand, bringing you close again and kissing you, more passionately than the moment allowed. you were way too flustered when he let go off you, but he just nodded for you to go. so you did.

you kept thinking about him for the rest of the day. through the whole herbology class, most of potions class and even charms, which was you favorite subject.

it hadn't been yesterday when you realized that you maybe didn't still find him as annoying as you did back when you were children. that you had maybe even grown fond of him a little, or whatever it was that you had.

and there was a stupid part of you that longed for more. for more of whatever it was.

what you had enjoyed at first, was now the part you hated most about your little arrangement. sneaking around, lying to your friends and always keeping something from them, while they viewed you as family, as someone they knew everything about.

you just wanted them to know and maybe you also wanted to know if he would stay. stay at the possibility of people finding out about you.

all that went through your head until the next day. and realistically you knew he wasn't what you wanted him to be. you knew draco well enough. he would never agree to go public, much less to even be in a relationship with you.

so it was pretty clear what you had to do.

you knew that it was the right decision in the long run. for both of you.

you met in the same hallway. you were leaning against the wall when he arrived, a distant smile on his face, that only really broke out when his eyes fell on you.

"hey" he muttered. you let him kiss you, before he stepped back, leaning across from you.

"hi" you said, testing the waters. he furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

"what is it?" he asked unimpressed. he was used to you berating him for something he had said or done the day before. most often it was something regarding your friends and even though he never admitted it, you noticed his behaviour change, when you had been angry about something.

"nothing" you averted your eyes. you could hear him step forward, on edge, not used to the sadness in your voice.

times you had been apart came normally right after you had fought with each other. always screaming loudly, having found something to be annoyed about, before you decided not to see each other anymore, until one of you eventually came back.

"tell me" draco urged, the calmness in his voice long gone. "did something happen?" normally you would have made fun of him for his unusual care, but now you even felt sorry about it.

"i don't think we should continue to see each other" you shrugged, acting as if you didn't even care.

draco laughed, or rather puffed out air through his nose, before he shook his head. "i told you i was sorry"

"it's not about that"

"then what?" he stepped even closer. "something with you friends? i didn't even really see them yesterday"

"that's not it, draco"

there were a few seconds of silence, before he sighed loudly. "is it a guy?"

"no"

"okay, so you're just doing this? for what?" he threw his arms up, like he couldn't understand anything anymore. "you'll come back anyway"

you didn't answer anything, staring at him blankly, not having the strength to even say it out loud. without you wanting him to, he caught the uncertainty in your eyes.

"..you'll come back" he repeated, voice low. "right?"

"draco" you sighed, not knowing what to tell him.

"no, don't be like that" he shook his head and you saw that he was trying hard not to show you how much he cared. "don't act like you have to console me, don't act like you're breaking up with me"

"i'm not" you nodded. "but i'm not coming back either"

he pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, not even looking at you when you picked up your bag. you tried to catch his eyes, but it was to no avail. so you just walked away, not even knowing if you felt relieved or sad at the predicament that he would never be coming close to you again.

you walked through the halls of the castle and opened the door to the courtyard. the weather had turned rainy, thick clouds hanging over the towers of the castle, hiding them in the white air. the rain hit the ground mercilessly and you realized too late that it had been a stupid idea to walk across.

"you can't just do that" the voice behind you was so sudden and loud that your bag almost hit the wet ground beneath you.

draco caught up with you quickly, not caring about the rain one bit.

"what?" you asked, continuing your quick walk through the yard. but admittedly it was to no use, considering that you were already wet to the bones.

draco grabbed your shoulder, making you halt in your step and turn to look at him. "you can't just decide that" he said "it's not your decision to make"

"it's not yours either"

"why are you like that?" he ignored your previous answer. "i thought you liked this"

"i did" you nodded, seeing no reason to lie. "until i didn't"

"what does that even mean?" draco pushed his wet hair back annoyed. he wasn't able to understand you and scarily enough, that was the first time in years he failed to read what was going on with you.

"that means that we have to stop seeing each other"

"but why?"

you ignored him, moving your arm so he lost his grip on you, walking further through the wet garden. draco followed you.

"why?" he repeated, "what do you want me to do?"

"nothing, draco, it's fine"

"if this is some psychological trick, i swear to god"

"it's not, draco" your voice became louder, trying to drain out the rain that muffled it. "just forget about me"

"what if i can't?" he had stopped moving, staring at you blankly when you turned around. you had never seen him like this. so vulnerable, so honest.

"it didn't even matter" you simply said, "it was nice for a while, but it's over now"

"so you just decided that?"

"yes"

"but it wasn't just nice" he came closer, his face painfully twisted, as if to try and see your reaction to it. to get something from you. to see if it really didn't matter. "it was different. it wasn't just something"

"then what was it?" you pushed him to say more, to hear what you needed to for so long. "tell me why it was different? i thought you hated me"

"i did everything but that" he muttered and you had a hard time understanding him.

"why did you never say that before?" you asked, stray tears mixing with the rain on your face. "why are you so desperately trying to convince me of something you would've denied if i had asked you before? why didn't it matter before? why didn't you say something sooner?" your voice evolved into a scream, begging him to answer.

"why do you think i always came back?" he matched the loudness of your voice, anger blending with desperation as his blue eyes crashed into yours.

"why do you think i did?"

"i thought you knew" he shook his head, not understanding how it had come so far he had to explain it to you. "i thought i made it clear"

"thought you made what clear?" you asked, your voice louder than his, as he had grown more quiet. "that you didn't hate me? tolerated me even? that you—“

"that i fucking love you" his scream made you shut up immediately, eyes wide as you stared at him. "and maybe i should've actually said that or maybe i'm not what you want anymore—"

"what did you think would happen? did you think i would just accept it? not knowing how you really feel?"

"no" he shook his head "but i had hoped you would stay until i finally gathered up the courage to say it"

"how long?"

he sighed, looking annoyingly sweet as raindrops fell down from his hair and onto his cheeks. he looked like he was crying in an artful way. beautiful even, you thought, as you kept your eyes on his face like your life depended on it.

"mcgonagalls detention in fourth year"

"you couldn't have possibly loved me back then"

"maybe i didn't" he shrugged "but it was the first time i felt like this, when you kissed me"

"you kissed me" you corrected, but unable to stop the smile from breaking out.

"well, what do you say?"

"you want to hear it back?" you asked.

"preferably yes, but for now a sorry would do"

"for now, a hot shower would do" you rolled your eyes. "alone"

"and after that?" his voice lost a bit of it's cockiness, returning back to the insecurity it had held a few minutes before, "what then?"

you pressed his lips against his and he took the kiss with surprise, before he reciprocated it.

you pulled back, looking up at him, drenched from head to toe, but absolutely beautiful in his eyes.

"i'll come back"

[redeyerhaenyra]

What sex toys would T141 use?

Summary: title :) headcanons of what sex toys I think t141 would use

Warnings: heavy smut! various elaborate sex toys, bit of electric shock play in Johnny's, phone sex, brief mention of anal beads, Simon being too hard on himself, Simon being touched starved, Simon being.. Simon, let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: Getting this out to feed you all as I'm STILL working on that Simon smut I promised and it's only at 2k words 😭

Kyle Garrick

Kyle is a confident man

He knows what he likes, he isn't afraid to buy and try new toys

He has some anal beads for himself, doesn't use them all the time

Only when he's having an extra special night to himself✨️

He has one of those clear fleshlights

Kyle's a bit of a voyeur he likes watching himself 😏

Also has an extensive lube collection

Like, different kinds

Flavoured, tingly, aphrodisiac, ect

He'll change what lube he uses depending on his mood :P

Johnny Mactavish

Oh Johnny

Johnny Johnny Johnny

Look up the word "horny" in the dictionary a picture of this man's face comes up

He spends his hard earned military paycheck on those vibrating, self thrusting fleshlights with fucking handles on the outside

Also has a vibrating cock ring that will occasionally send little electric shocks through his cock :D

Like to think he also has just a plain dildo

Sometimes to use on himself, sometimes to suck on whilst he's fucking the fleshlight

Again, look up the phrase "oral fixation" there's a picture of his goddamn face

He also has one of those fake pussies and some fake silicone boobies for the same reason

He wants to suckle a clit or a boob in his mouth can you blame him?

He also will push the fake tits together and fuck them :P

The only reason THE ONLY REASON he doesn't take all these on deployment with him is that they wouldn't fit in his bag

Simon Riley

Poor Simon

He half thinks he doesn't deserve self pleasure

And half is kinda clueless when it comes to it other than the classic fist with a bit of spit as lube

He has fantasies about getting a generic fleshlight but he's also like

"Who would I need that I have my hands"

Like cmon Simon treat yourself 😭

Has thought about full on 300 quid sex dolls

The ones that are literally just. A silicone person

He'd never actually get one but occasionally he's so touched starved and needing to hold someone close he thinks about genuinely purchasing one 😭

John Price

I like to think John's taste in sex toys is... refined

Posh, even

I know it's so cliche to say John is old-fashioned but I truly believe he wouldn't ever dream of using modern male sex toys

They are "barbaric", he says, "teaches young men to only value a woman's body for sex".

No no, John won't be partaking in anything like that

He, a gentleman, uses phone-sex lines

To physically get off he'll use his fist, but he'll almost never do it without calling a.. "woman of the night".. and seducing her with his dulcet tones

He considers it a failure if the fine lady he's speaking with isn't also enjoying herself just as much as he

Really gets him going to be the source of someone else's, a professional pleasurers, pleasure

[spyret-the-shitposter]

and now it's time to play WOULD GRAVITY FALLS CHARACTERS RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS (pre-weirdmageddon) (non gravity falls fans take this as a sign.)

DIPPER PINES - not sure he'd understand the concept immediately, but would catch on quick because he understands what it's like not being called something you want to be called

MABEL PINES - YES. no question about it. there's so many things i could say here. she'd correct herself for THINKING the wrong pronouns.

STANLEY PINES - understands and correctly genders you for all the wrong, crime-related reasons! bro is the king of preferred names. you say "hey i'm actually exam/ple" and he'll be like "AH. I GET IT. WINK. DO YOU ALSO WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE COPS ARE IN TOWN" like i cant overstate this. if you say hey i want to change my identity he will pull out a stack of fake IDs and have you pick one. he's a little confused but he got the spirit!

STANFORD PINES - if you ever need a guy to not grasp a modern-day concept, call this guy! he'd do his best, but only because he wants to be nice. he does Not understand. give him a little bit of systematic exposure and he'll get it! he will take a scientific approach! but he'll get it! somebody get this man 2024ccs of woke liberalism stat

SOOS RAMIREZ - calls you dude and bro. does not call you anything but dude and bro. he knows what you are and he respects that! but let's be real honest here.

WENDY CORDUROY - incredibly supportive and super chill. if you were still in the closet, she'd do the mouth zip motion thing. you get it. she's so awesome about you

WADDLES - oink?

GIDEON GLEEFUL - yes to your face! no behind closed doors. he'd probably call you "that queer" while villain monologuing in his room . i can hear it in his voice

BUD GLEEFUL - THE gravity falls homophobic youth pastor let's be for real he'd say "it's not too late to turn to God" as a christian trans person i'm pretty sure God thinks about lgbtq+ kids and fraudulent capitalists on two separate ends of a very long line

SHERIFF BLUBS & DEPUTY DURLAND - do i even have to say it. i'm gonna say it. solid top and DEAD SERIOUS bottom. they ARE the loud and proud gravity falls lgbtq+ community. if they're transphobic i'll eat my socks.

CANDY CHIU - i know what you guys are thinking . "oh candy's so sweet of course she'd respect your pronouns!" CANDY MOTHERFUCKING CHIU WILL NOT ONLY RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS, BUT SHE WILL GO OUT OF HER WAY TO USE THEM AT ANY POSSIBLE MOMENT. if she sees somewhere to say your pronouns, she will DO it. because she LOVES YOU. and also she'd fight anyone who gets it wrong!

GRENDA GRENDINATOR - trans. she loves you. will help candy fight anybody who gets your pronouns wrong.

FIDDLEFORD MCGUCKET - honestly this is a hard one. he could ACKNOWLEDGE! your pronouns! but other than that i'm not sure. pre-memory wipe, i think he'd feel a little weird about it, but it would become nothing to him eventually

PACIFICA NORTHWEST - "ew. what the fuck." and then suddenly she's asking you how you figured that out. For No Reason

ROBBIE VALENTINO - calls you a faggot. is it because he is homophobic? because he is one? because he hates you specifically? the world will never know

BLENDIN BLANDIN - he lives in the year 207̃012. i find it hard to believe they haven't made respecting pronouns mandatory yet.

AGENTS POWERS & TRIGGER - are the pronouns on your legal documents????? it's not funny stop laughign

TYLER CUTEBIKER - gay. his pronouns are get/it. he will respect you (in his own ways)

LAZY SUSAN - forgets you had the wrong pronouns in the first place. she respects you by default

TIME BABY - does not refer to you

BILL CIPHER - he would call you your preferred pronouns but DON'T get it twisted. he does not respect you as a living thing. it isn't bigoted (that would be ironic considering that whole sixer thing) he just doesn't. maybe he'd make HEAVY fun of you for good measure but he's got to dig at somebody somehow. also were pronouns even real in his dimension anything could happen man ????

SHMEBULOCK - shmebulock

(did i forget anybody? let me know)

[the-modern-typewriter]

have I told you guys I'm trying my hand at writing a horror novel? Fey and aceness!

Wolverton House loomed out of the darkness more suddenly than such a large building should have been able to. It made Diana think of ghosts. It made her think of titanic icebergs. It made her think of an angler fish, mouth gaping bright and welcoming in the roiling blackness of the water.

Inevitably, of course, it made her think of Lucille.

The taxi jerked to a stop by the imposing front gates. Motion sensor lights flooded to life, illuminating the slender stone driveway snaking up to the manor proper. Diana squinted, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

“…you getting out here?” the driver asked. “Or do you want me to take you all of the way up.”

He sounded hopeful. It was difficult to tell if it was to get closer to the manor or to get the hell away from it. She swallowed, but it did nothing to stop the sudden dryness of her mouth. She wasn’t entirely sure which one she wanted either. But then, home was often like that, wasn’t it?

The gates slid open. An invitation.

The driver’s fingers white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll walk. Bit of fresh air and all that. Stretch my legs.”

His shoulders sagged in relief even as disappointment flickered across his face. He got out at the same time as she did, busying himself with hoisting her battered suitcase out onto the side of the road. He opened his mouth as if to say something, before he closed it again. His attention was inevitably drawn back to the house. Its stark white walls. Its invitingly lit windows. Its gardens, all pale roses picked out in the lush night. It hadn’t changed a bit.

“You know them?” Diana kept her voice light. “The Wolvertons?”

“Sure. I mean, everyone does round here.”

“You’ve met the fiancé?”

“Handsome fella.” He shook his head, as if to clear it, glancing at her again. Curiosity and terror. “You look after yourself up there.”

“And her?” Diana’s heart flipped. “Does she still come down to the town?”

His lips thinned. “That’s £112.”

She considered pressing him further, maybe telling him that actually she did want that lift up all the way to the front door, but then she simply paid. The fare receipt pinged on her phone before he’d even fully disappeared down the path.

Lucille would have made him drive all the way. She would have made him wait while she rang the doorbell, “just in case no one’s in!” She would have watched him squirm.

Still, Diana’s legs were cramped from the long hours of travel, so maybe it couldbe a relief to clack her way up the driveway. At the very least, it gave her a little more time before she had to ring the doorbell. Meet him. See her. Diana took a few steadying breaths, wrangled her luggage and began her ascent. She’d only a taken a few steps up the driveway path when the gates shut behind her again with a muffled clang.

Handsome fella. She’d seen pictures of Tristan De Silva, Lucille’s soon-to-be-husband, online. He was definitely handsome, it was true, but not in the way that Lucille usually liked. He was too sharp. Too much like her, in some way, so that surely if they were ever in a room together they’d spend the whole time in danger of bashing up against each other’s edges. They did look smitten in the photos though, and the wedding invitation certainly suggested something, but…

Surely she wouldn’t invite Diana, of all people, to be her maid of honour if she was in love with someone else?

Of course she bloody would. And of course Diana bloody came. She was an idiot.

All too soon, she rang the doorbell. As she waited, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then untucked it again a moment later to let it curl loose and coppery over her forehead. Then she realised that her hands were shaking and shoved them in the pockets of her leather jacket.

The door swung open. The man behind it was the pictures made incarnate, dressed in the sort of casually-expensive trousers and t-shirt that Diana would never find in her own closet. Was that why Lucille had picked him?

“Ah, Diana.” He offered a perfect smile. “It is Diana, right? Lucille’s Diana?”

The words were like a beloved coat that no longer fit properly. Too tight around the shoulders. A squeeze of buttons clamping airless down upon her chest. Lucille’s Diana. She hadn’t been that in years. She hadn’t ever stopped being that for a moment.

“Just Diana,” she said. “You must be Tristan.”

Tristan tipped his head a fraction, a mocking sort of bow, and stepped aside to let her in.

“Where’s Lucille?” she asked.

“Upstairs.” He held out a hand for her jacket. “She’ll come down when she’s ready. You know she likes to make an entrance.”

Her jacket felt like the only pitiful armour she had, but Diana politely handed it over all the same. He hung it up and shut the door.

“Just leave your bag in the hallway,” he said, already turning towards the familiar kitchen as if he owned the place. “I’ll take it up to your room later. Champagne?”

“I – no, thank you. I don’t drink.”

He scoffed. “Yes you do. Since when?”

She stared at him.

“Well,” he said. “I’m having champagne.” As she followed him into the kitchen, he fished a bottle out of the fridge, popped it and poured it golden and frothing into three different flutes. He took one and held the other out to her.

Her jaw tightened a fraction.

“I’m engaged,” he said. “So we’re going to toast and you’re going to say congratulations.”

His hazel eyes bore into her, almost seeming to match the drink.

She took the glass, cold against her clammy palm, and held it up.

“Congratulations,” she said.

No, he was nothing like Lucille’s usual type, which begged the question, then – how much did he really know his fiancée at all?

The first thing that she remembered ever really noticing about Lucille Wolverton was that everybody loved her. It was an effect she had on people. When they were really young it hadn’t occurred to Diana to question it. Lucille was her friend and, of course, Lucille’s parents loved her. That was what good parents were supposed to do.

When she got older, she’d thought maybe it was because Lucille was pretty and people seemed to care an awful lot about that sort of thing. Some people simply had a star quality that drew people to them and, even as a child, it had been clear that Lucille did. When she smiled and laughed and relished in the attention of everyone who adored her, she possessed a warm sort of beauty. She was honey and gold, she was the fairy lights that turned an ordinary space into a super-secret lair, she was the candlelight flickering across a dinner table as two lovers leaned in for their first kiss. When she was angry, she was a colder thing. The moon in winter, glittering across an endless plane of unforgiving snow. A glass girl, seemingly fragile, poised to cut.

When she got older still, Diana was no longer sure if it could be just looks, just charm. She’d never quite figured it out though. All things considered she hadn’t been sure she wanted to.

She took a tiny sip of her drink, feeling Tristan’s eyes on her as he matched her movements. She had the strangest surety that if she drained the glass then he would simply do the same. Weirdly triumphant.

She set the flute firmly down on the counter and cleared her throat.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Music drifted down the stairs, too quiet to be entirely picked out. She could imagine Lucille flitting about her bedroom. It was impossible to hear her so far away, and yet Diana half felt that she could trace Lucille’s every step across the manor’s floors.

“At a party,” Tristan said. “She got the host to kiss her in front of his girlfriend. Wrecked their relationship. It was awful.” He smiled a strange smile. “I asked her out the same night.”

“Oh, naturally.”

His smile turned a touch edged. “I note you didn’t bring a plus one.”

Diana didn’t say anything.

“The invite did say you could bring someone.”

“I’m not seeing anybody at the moment.” Diana moved to circle the space, putting the kitchen island between her and the champagne as she scanned over the glossy cookbooks and paintings. The cookbooks were new. The paintings were the same visions of women stuffing their faces with dripping fruit, raw meat or chocolate cake as she’d seen since she was as a girl. They’d thrilled her then. Felt somehow taboo. “Does she do that sort of thing often, then? Wreck people’s relationships?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

Diana shrugged, betrayed by her hammering heart.

“Mm. You’ll be staying in your old room, I believe.” He leaned himself almost lazily against the island and took another long sip of his drink, body angled towards her.

“Lucille’s told you a lot about me?”

“I’m nosy.” He flashed that perfect smile again. “She said the two of you grew up here, that you were like sisters. She said there was no one else she’d want at our wedding as much as you.”

Diana’s throat thickened.

“I suspect she left out all of the juicy bits,” he said.

She glanced over at him.

“Singular woman, Lucille Wolverton.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I’m sure if you told me, she’d have to kill you.”

“Or you.”

“Alas, they always suspect the spouse. She’s not that obvious.”

Despite herself, Diana laughed. It was something like a laugh anyway.

“It’s nothing juicy,” she said. “My parents worked here. We lived in the old servant’s cottage on the edge of the property when I was a kid, and this place is way out in the middle of nowhere. We had a lot of sleepovers.”

“So many that you had your own room. Do girls often have their own room during sleepovers?”

“It’s just one of the guest bedrooms. There’s enough of them, isn’t there?”

Her bedroom was the bedroom next to Lucille’s room, mirrored and sharing a wall.

Tristan hummed, seeming unconvinced as he studied her. She watched him in her periphery in turn, taking out one of the cookbooks and flicking through the pages. How to eat a peach.  

“So what is it you do?” she asked.

“Finance. You’re a caterer. What was she like when you knew her?”

The cookbook was thoroughly abandoned. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Diana said, “but I believe in small talk you’re supposed to at least pretend that you don’t know things about me when we first meet.”

“Stickler for politeness, are we?”

“You have to ask?” She pretended to gasp. “And there was me thinking you knew everything about me already.”

“Not everything. But I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Not especially. But I guess I was raised to be more polite to my guests than you.”

He laughed like that was funny, shaking his head, and raised his glass again in another private toast of some sort.

No, he was not Lucille’s type at all. Lucille’s type were soft and starry-eyed, utterly enamoured and easily bruised. He was…not that. She had no idea what the hell he was. A jerk, perhaps?

They eyed each other.

“So you met a party.” Diana tried again, with the friendly smile she reserved for only the most trying of customers. “That was…what? A little over a year ago? I can’t imagine she’s changed that much since I last saw her. I mean. You’re the one marrying her. Shouldn’t you know?”

Tristan shrugged in turn; a lighter, more effortless parry. “You’ve known her longer. You last saw her…what?” He mimicked her tone. “A little over three years ago?”

“Yeah.”

He seemed to consider her for a moment.

“I could probably still call your taxi back,” he said. “It’s not too late.”

Diana narrowed her eyes, spine stiffening.

“Too late for what exactly?”

Footsteps sounded on the hallway, light and graceful, shattering the moment. Tristan went quiet.

They both turned inexorably towards the kitchen door and then – there she was. Lucille Wolverton. Barefoot. Leaned against the door as if she had been there all along. In her wedding dress. “Hey stranger,” Lucille said. “Long time no see.”

[talaok]

Heyy, first, I'd like to say that I really love your writing, keep it up!

And I'd like to make a request, I know we all went crazy over Pedro on SNL (he looked so handsome!!!), and I would love to read a Pedro x Reader behind the scenes of the show, her watching, supporting, and being proud of Pedro, and then the two of them going out together to the SNL after party, dancing, kissing, enjoying each other's company, very fluffy, and a bit of smut at the end?

Pairing: Pedro pascal x f!reader

warnings: very very faint allusion to smut

a/n: he did look handsome and thank you so much love <3 (and yes this ask skipped the line bc as always it wouldn't have made sense for me to post it in two weeks)

It was incredible how nervous he was. He'd done this already, and yet he was acting like a kid like at his first recital.

"you're gonna do amazing baby" you promised, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek "Now go out there and have fun"

His eyes anxiously danced around your face

"my heart's beating so fast" he huffed a laugh

"I know" you smiled, stoking his cheek "but remember, you have nothing to be scared of, you've done this already, and you were amazing at it, so just relax"

"ok" he took a breathy sigh "yeah, you're right. I can do this"

"that's it" you grinned, but before you could say anything more he was kissing you like it was the last time he ever could.

"Pedro?" his assistant's voice brought you back to reality "It's time"

You smiled as he leaned away.

"I love you" he promised, the honesty of that statement shining through his eyes

"I love you too baby" you murmured "Now go!" you said, giving him a playful push "Break a leg!"

__ __ __

As you already knew, everything went perfectly smoothly, he and Bad Bunny were an amazing duo, and you could just see how well they got on even with the cameras off.

The monologue was perfect, and you didn't miss any opportunity to cheer and laugh every time you could, but as much as you'd loved it... nothing could top the Ms. Flores sketch.

You loved it last time, and you loved it this time too.

Even just seeing him in the costume made you laugh (you had filled your camera roll with photos of him) but then combined with the actual sketch... it was just perfection.

You almost didn't want him to change, you kind of liked the constant teasing of calling him mama and telling him just how sexy he was, but unfortunately, he did change.

Imagine what a look that must have been for the afterparty instead of that old shirt he wore everywhere.

But then again, considering how much he was sweating from the dancing maybe it was a good call.

"thank you for tonight" he spoke over the music, as the song changed to a slower one "I couldn't have done it without you sweetheart"

"oh stop" you rolled your eyes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as you swayed to the music "You would have been amazing regardless." you smiled "I'm surprised they haven't offered you a role as a permanent part of the cast yet"

"No I'm serious" he laughed softly "I don't know if I would have gotten on that stage without you"

"baby..." you cooed, touched by his words "I love you. I'm always gonna be there for you"

"and me for you" he murmured, before kissing you.

You could only vaguely feel everyone around you and hear the music, it was just you and him.

He always made you feel like that.

"I've just realized I was so anxious for tonight that I haven't told you how beautiful you look yet," he said, making you blush faintly.

"You look beautiful too" you murmured, a mischievous smirk pulling at your lips "Not as much as you did when you were dressed as Ms. Flores, but you're not so bad"

He couldn't help but laugh at that

"You'll never let that go, will you?"

"nope" you chuckled, earning another kiss, this time deeper and much... hungrier.

You whimpered into his mouth as his hand on your back started traveling dangerously low.

"baby-"

"you're gorgeous sugar"

you bit down a grin at that

"I know that look"

"what look" he silenced you with another kiss "I'm not doing anything" he breathed, his lips now on your neck

And as much as you weren't completely conscious of everyone around you, a part of your brain still was.

"I think it's time we go home baby" you whispered

"yeah" he nodded, meeting his lips with yours again "Yeah I think it is"

[newobsessionweekly]

A night to remember

Part 2 of Secret signals

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x fem!reader Fandom: The rookie

Summary: Your date with Tim took an unexpected turn before confessing your feelings. And you wouldn't change a thing.

Fluff | A bit of angst

A/N: Oh, how much I enjoy writing teasing and bantering fluff. If you enjoyed the first part of Secret signals, I think you'll like this one just as much. Also, I wanted to let you know it's the last chance to leave any requests. Starting maybe next week I'll have to focus on studying for med school cuz I have the admission exam in July. Thank you for all your support and requests so far! I really appreciate every single one of you! Lots of love, bubs and take care! ❤️

Warnings: description of panick attack, not proofread yet Requested: yes Words: 4.7k GIF not mine, credits to the owner!

Lucy's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across her face. "Tim Bradford, going on a date... I never thought I'd see the day," she teased, nudging him playfully.

Tim rolled his eyes, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he grumbled, his embarrassment evident.

But Lucy's grin only widened as she leaned in closer, her curiosity getting the better of her. "So, where are you taking her? Any special plans?"

Tim hesitated, his mind racing as he considered his options. "I haven't really had a chance to think about it yet because someone doesn't keep their mouth shut for a second!" he bursted, his brow furrowing in thought. "But I want it to be special."

Lucy's eyes sparkled with excitement as she leaned in closer, eager to offer her input. "Well, if you're looking for somewhere nice, you can't go wrong with 71Above," she suggested, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "It's got amazing views of the city, and the food is top-notch. Trust me, Y/N will love it."

Tim's car was parked outside your place at 9 pm sharp. You weren't ready on time, but Tim knew that. Yet, he still was there as promised, hands sweating and trembling as he moved them frantically from the steering wheel to his lap and back on the steering wheel, a milion times. He was acting silly, like a high schooler on the first date with his crush. But he couldn't help it, you weren't just a crush, you were his best friend. His rock that kept him from drifting apart so many times. And the only person he actually enjoyed.

As he glanced at his phone, he saw the time ticking away. He couldn't help but worry that listening to Angela and Lucy's advice and taking you on a date might ruin the friendship you both cherished. But at the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was worth the risk.

A million thoughts race through his mind, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. What if this date ruins everything between you? What if he says or does something to make things awkward between you? What if he messes up the one chance he has to tell you how he truly feels?

With a heavy sigh, Tim pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Lucy. "If it goes wrong, you'll beg for Tim Tests." he types out, pressing send before he can second-guess himself. Lucy pressed Tim into this after all. Without her nosy personality, Tim wouldn't have acted impulsively and arranged a date for you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you emerge from your apartment, a radiant smile gracing your lips as you approach Tim's car. You're momentarily struck by how effortlessly handsome he looks. Dressed in a casual yet sophisticated attire, Tim exudes a rugged charm that never fails to captivate you.

His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart skipping a beat as he takes in your beauty.

"Hey," you greet him, your voice soft and warm as you slide into the passenger seat beside him. "Sorry I'm late."

As Tim's eyes land on you, he can't help but feel a rush of awe. You look incredible, and he can't tear his gaze away. Your smile lights up your face, making his heart skip a beat and your eyes sparkle with warmth, drawing him in like a magnet.

Tim shakes his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he meets your gaze. "No need to apologize," he says, his voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil raging inside him. "You look amazing."

A blush spreads across your cheeks at his compliment, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his eyes. "Thanks, Tim," you reply, your voice barely more than a whisper as you fumble for words. "You're acting strange.

"No, I'm not."

Tim started the engine and pulled away from the curb, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him when he wasn't looking. There was something about the way he held himself, a quiet confidence that you found strangely alluring.

As the two of you drove through the streets of LA, the sound of the radio filling the silence between you, you found yourself lost in thought. You couldn't deny the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, the nervous anticipation of what the night might hold.

When Tim glanced over at you with a soft smile playing on his lips, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the man sitting beside you.

"You know, Tim, Lucy seems pretty cool," you remarked, glancing over at him. "She's got this energy about her, like she's ready to take on the world."

Tim raised an eyebrow, a skeptical expression crossing his features. "Cool? More like a walking disaster waiting to happen and constantly sticking her nose where it doesn't belong." he retorted, his tone tinged with amusement.

You laughed, shaking your head at his blunt assessment. "Come on, Tim, give her a chance. She's just trying to find her footing," you insisted, nudging him gently.

Tim let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I'm all for giving her a chance, but she's got a long way to go before she's ready for the streets," he argued, his tone firm.

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Well, lucky for her, she's got the best training officer in the department to show her the ropes," you teased, earning a chuckle from Tim.

"Yeah, lucky her," he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But despite his grumbling, you could see a flicker of pride in his eyes at the mention of his role as Lucy's training officer.

As the familiar streets of LA passed by, you couldn't help but notice that Tim wasn't taking the usual route to your favorite bar. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you glanced out the window, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Uh, Tim? Are we going a different way tonight?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

Tim shot you a sidelong glance, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe I've got a surprise up my sleeve," he replied cryptically, a smirk playing on his lips.

Your curiosity piqued, you leaned forward in your seat, trying to catch a glimpse of your surroundings. "A surprise, huh? Well, color me intrigued," you teased, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Tim chuckled softly, the sound warm and inviting. "You'll just have to wait and see," he said, his tone playful as he focused on the road ahead.

Finally, Tim pulled the car to a stop in front of a sleek, modern building that towered above the surrounding skyline. The sign above the entrance read "71Above" in bold letters, and you couldn't help but gasp in surprise.

"Tim, is this...?" you began, trailing off as you turned to look at him, your eyes wide with disbelief.

He flashed you a grin, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes. "Surprise," he said simply, his voice soft yet filled with meaning.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what Tim had done. He'd gone out of his way to take you to one of the most upscale restaurants in the city, a place you'd only ever dreamed of visiting.

As you stepped out of the car and followed Tim, a wave of excitement washed over you, your eyes sparkling with wonder. "Tim, I can't believe you brought us here!" you exclaimed, practically bouncing on your toes as you took in the elegant surroundings.

Tim glanced at you, a hint of surprise flickering across his features before a warm smile spread across his face. "Well, I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

You nodded eagerly, unable to contain your enthusiasm as you rambled on about everything you'd heard about the place. "I've been wanting to come here for months! I've heard they have the most amazing views of the city from up there, and the food is supposed to be out of this world," you gushed, your words tumbling out in a rush.

Tim chuckled softly, a fondness shining in his eyes as he watched you talk. "Let's check it out, then."

As Tim led you towards the entrance, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. The restaurant was located on the upper floors of a towering skyscraper, its sleek glass exterior reflecting the glittering lights of the city below.

The elevator ride to the top floor was swift but exhilarating, each passing floor heightening your anticipation. When the doors opened, you were greeted by breathtaking panoramic views of the city spread out before you, the glittering lights of Los Angeles stretching as far as the eye could see.

As you followed Tim to your table by the window, you couldn't tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing sight. The city seemed to come alive beneath you, a vibrant tapestry of colors and lights that danced in the night. It was a moment of pure enchantment, and you felt a surge of excitement coursing through you as you settled in to enjoy the evening ahead.

Tim couldn't help but smile as he watched the excitement dance in your eyes, a warmth blooming in his chest at the sight of your joy. Your enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself caught up in the moment, marveling at the beauty of the city alongside you.

"Pretty amazing, huh?" he remarked, as he followed your gaze out the window.

You turned to him with a grin, nodding enthusiastically. "It's incredible!"

As the night progressed, you and Tim found yourselves immersed in the magic of the evening. The ambience of the restaurant, the delicious food, and the lively atmosphere created the perfect backdrop for an unforgettable night.

You couldn't remember the last time you laughed that much, the sound of your laughter mingling with Tim's in a symphony of joy and happiness. Each moment spent together felt like a precious gift, a fleeting glimpse into the depths of your friendship and the possibility of something more.

Tim's infectious laughter echoed through the restaurant, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he regaled you with stories from his time on the force. His smile was like a beacon of light in the darkness, drawing you in and filling you with warmth.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. In that moment, surrounded by good food and even better company, you felt truly alive.

But amidst the laughter and the lighthearted conversation, there was something else simmering beneath the surface, something unspoken and electric. It was a tension that crackled in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the growing attraction that pulsed beneath the surface of your friendship.

Yet, despite the palpable chemistry between you, Tim was content to simply bask in the warmth of your presence, to lose himself in the moment and forget about the weight of his own feelings.

And as the night wore on, you found yourself falling more and more in love with him, with every smile, every laugh, every stolen glance. It was a feeling that consumed you, filling you with a sense of euphoria that you never wanted to end.

The restaurant gradually emptied, leaving only a handful of lingering patrons scattered throughout the dimly lit dining room. Tim and you found yourselves among the last remaining guests, reluctant to let go of the magic of the evening.

With a satisfied sigh, Tim leaned back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with contentment as he glanced around the nearly deserted restaurant. "I can't remember the last time I had such a great night," he admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You nodded in agreement, a warm feeling spreading through you at the thought of the wonderful evening you'd shared together. "Me neither," you replied, your voice soft with emotion. "It's been amazing. I can't remember the last time you laughed that much!"

As the last of the patrons trickled out of the restaurant, Tim turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, what do you say we keep the party going somewhere else?" he suggested, his voice filled with excitement.

You raised an eyebrow in surprise, intrigued by his suggestion. "Oh? And where did you have in mind?" you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Tim shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on his lips. "I don't know, maybe we could head to a bar for a nightcap or something," he suggested, his eyes twinkling.

The idea sounded perfect to you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of spending more time with Tim. "I'm in," you declared, a grin spreading across your face.

As you and Tim stepped into the elevator, ready to continue your evening adventure, the doors slid shut with a soft whoosh, enclosing you in the small, dimly lit space.

The elevator hummed to life, beginning its descent down to the ground floor.

But just a few floors down, the elevator jerked to a sudden halt, the lights flickering ominously before plunging you both into darkness. A chill ran down your spine as you felt the floor beneath you come to a stop, the suddenness of the situation leaving you feeling disoriented and scared.

"Tim," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of the elevator. "What's happening?"

Tim's expression mirrored your own concern as he reached out to steady you, his touch warm and reassuring against your skin. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice tight with apprehension. "But it looks like we're stuck."

Panic began to rise within you as you realized the gravity of the situation. Trapped in a malfunctioning elevator with no way out, your heart raced in your chest as fear gripped you tight.

Instinctively, you sought refuge in Tim's arms, seeking comfort and safety in his familiar embrace. For a moment, you felt a sense of calm wash over you as his strong arms wrapped around you, providing a brief respite from the chaos of the situation.

But as reality sank in, you knew that you couldn't stay there forever. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled away from Tim, the weight of the situation pressing down on you once more.

"We need to figure a way to get out of here," you said, your voice determined despite the fear gnawing at your insides.

With a heavy sigh, Tim reached for the emergency call button, pressing it in hopes of summoning help. But as the seconds ticked by with no response, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both of you.

"We need to wait for help."

As the minutes dragged on, your panic intensified, threatening to consume you whole. The confined space of the elevator felt like a suffocating prison, each passing second amplifying your fear of being trapped so far above the ground.

Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps as your heart hammered against your chest, the darkness pressing in on you from all sides. "We're going to die in here, Tim," you choked out, your voice trembling with fear.

Tim's heart clenched at the desperation in your voice, his instincts kicking into overdrive as he moved to your side, wrapping you in his arms once more. "Hey, look at me," he urged, his voice firm yet gentle as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"We're not going to die, I promise," he said, his words laced with a quiet confidence that helped to anchor you in the storm of your panic. "Just focus on breathing with me."

His steady voice was a lifeline in the darkness, guiding you back from the brink of despair as he led you through a series of slow, deep breaths.

But the panic was relentless, its grip tightening around your chest with each passing second. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as your mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last.

Tim's voice was a distant echo, his words barely registering as you struggled to regain control of your racing thoughts. But he refused to give up, his touch a steady anchor as he guided you through the storm of fear.

"Listen to my voice, focus on my words," he urged, his tone firm but gentle. "You're safe with me, Y/N. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Tim's voice softened, his fingers gently brushing the stray strands of hair away from your face as he continued to soothe your frayed nerves. "You're doing great, Y/N. Just breathe with me, okay? In... and out."

His calming presence enveloped you like a warm embrace, his words a balm to your frazzled mind. With each inhale, you felt a sliver of tension melt away, replaced by a newfound sense of tranquility.

But even as Tim worked to calm your panic, his own worry lingered just beneath the surface. He couldn't shake the nagging fear that he wouldn't be able to keep you safe, that somehow he would fail you in your moment of need.

Yet he pushed those doubts aside, focusing all his energy on being there for you, reassuring you with every word and gesture. In that moment, nothing else mattered but your well-being, your safety.

As the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity, the sound of your breathing gradually slowed, your panicked gasps giving way to steady, even breaths. And with each passing moment, the darkness seemed a little less suffocating, a little less daunting.

As Tim continued to hold you close, his arms a steady anchor in the darkness of the elevator, he shifted the conversation to lighter topics, hoping to distract you from the looming sense of fear.

"Remember that time we tried to build a treehouse in your backyard?" he asked, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes.

You responded faintly, the memory flooding back vividly. "How could I forget? We ended up with a pile of sticks and a broken arm."

He grinned, shaking his head. "Yeah, and your mom nearly had a heart attack when she saw us dangling from that rope ladder."

"I still can't believe we thought we could build a treehouse with just a hammer and some nails," you admitted.

"Well, we were what, eight years old? Seemed like a good idea at the time," Tim reasoned, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"True," you agreed with a chuckle. "But I think we learned our lesson after that."

"Definitely," Tim nodded, a reminiscent smile playing on his lips. "Although, knowing us, we probably found some other scheme to get into trouble with."

"Oh, no doubt about it," you agreed, sharing a knowing look.

As the tension in the elevator began to ease, Tim shifted the conversation to another memory from your past, a smile playing on his lips as he recalled a particularly memorable event.

"Remember when we went to homecoming together?" Tim chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously.

You cringed at the memory, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Oh, please, don't bring that up," you pleaded, shaking your head in embarrassment.

Tim grinned, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Why not? It was hilarious!"

"Yeah, for you maybe," you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

Tim's grin softened into a warm smile as he reached out to gently touch your arm. "Hey, you looked amazing that night," he reassured you, his voice sincere.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, right. I was a total mess."

Tim shook his head, his expression earnest. "No way. You were the most beautiful girl there, hands down."

As the memories of homecoming faded, replaced by more somber recollections, you found yourself opening up to Tim about a time that had left you feeling scared and vulnerable.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before continuing. "When you were back in Iraq, I was so scared, Tim. Every time I got a call from you, it felt like my heart was in my throat. And then those calls started getting shorter and more distant, and I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know if you were okay, if you were coming back..."

Your voice trailed off, the memories still vivid in your mind despite the passing years. Tim reached out, gently squeezing your hand in silent support as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your fear and uncertainty during that time.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I didn't mean to worry you like that."

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips despite the lingering sadness. "It's okay. You were doing your job, and I knew that. But it was hard not knowing if you were safe, if you were coming back."

Tim's gaze softened, his hand finding yours as he met your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I'm here now," he said softly. "And I'm not going anywhere."

He paused, weighting his words,"I... I think I have feelings for you from back then," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And the most tragic part about this is that I don’t think I can stop, even if I wanted to."

His admission hung heavy in the air between you, the weight of his words sinking in as you struggled to process the magnitude of what he was saying.

"Tim..." you breathed, your own emotions swirling as you searched for the right thing to say."I mean, I've thought about it too," you admitted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your tone. "But I never thought you felt the same way."

A flicker of surprise crossed Tim's face, quickly replaced by a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "You did?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I did. And I guess... I guess I've been hoping you'd say something like this for a while now."

Tim's smile widened, a sense of relief washing over him as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"Well, I'm saying it now," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "And I meant every word of it."

Tim's touch was gentle yet electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers traced delicate patterns along your jawline. You found yourself leaning into his touch, craving the warmth and comfort he offered in that moment of uncertainty.

His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as he gazed into your eyes with a mixture of tenderness and longing. In that moment, it felt like the world had faded away.

With a soft sigh, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotion. It was a moment of surrender, of letting go of all inhibitions and fears, and allowing yourself to be consumed by the warmth of Tim's embrace.

As your lips moved together in perfect harmony, the world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the rhythmic beat of your hearts and the gentle whisper of your breath mingling in the air. It was a kiss that spoke of years of unspoken longing, of whispered confessions and silent promises, sealing a bond that had been years in the making.

The elevator finally jolted back to life, breaking the moment, but the warmth of Tim's embrace and the taste of his lips lingered on.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, you and Tim stepped out into the lobby, still caught in the afterglow of your kiss. With a playful smirk, Tim nudged you gently as you made your way back to his car.

"Well, that was unexpected," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, swatting his arm lightly in retaliation. "You're one to talk. Who knew getting stuck in an elevator could be so... romantic?"

Tim chuckled, the sound warm and comforting as he unlocked the car doors. "I guess stranger things have happened," he remarked, a hint of mischief in his tone.

As you settled into the car, the tension of the past few hours melting away, you found yourself laughing as you recounted the events of the evening. From the unexpected elevator malfunction to the heart-stopping kiss that followed, it had certainly been a night to remember.

"So, remind me never to take the elevator with you again," you joked, earning a mock offended gasp from Tim.

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm a great elevator companion," he retorted, a playful glint in his eye. "Just ask anyone who's ever been stuck with me."

You laughed, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "I'll take your word for it," you replied, a smile playing on your lips as you leaned back in your seat.

As Tim started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, the warmth of his presence beside you filled you with a sense of contentment you hadn't felt in a long time. It was moments like these, filled with laughter and lighthearted banter, that made you grateful for the bond you shared with him.

"So, about what you said in the elevator," you began, breaking the comfortable silence as Tim navigated through the streets.

Tim glanced over at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, about that. I hope I didn't scare you off."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Not a chance. If anything, it's nice to know I'm not the only one feeling a little... sentimental."

He grinned, his gaze returning to the road ahead. "Sentimental, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"

You shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Hey, I'm just trying to keep it classy."

Tim chuckled, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. "Well, in that case, I guess I should apologize for any lack of classiness on my part."

You laughed, reaching over to gently nudge his arm. "No apologies necessary. Besides, I think we both know we're not exactly the poster children for romance."

Tim smirked, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Speak for yourself. I've been known to be quite the charmer when I want to be."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "Oh, please. The only charm you have is the one you use to get out of speeding tickets."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Touché."

"You know," he continued, his voice soft, "despite all the craziness of tonight, I wouldn't change a thing."

You smiled, squeezing his hand lightly. "Me neither. Even getting stuck in that elevator couldn't ruin the night."

Tim chuckled, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Yeah, well, I guess it's just one more adventure to add to the list."

You nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude for the shared experiences that had brought you to this moment. "I wouldn't want to go on these adventures with anyone else," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Tim's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "I feel the same way," he confessed, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that took your breath away.

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet hum of the car as it cruised through the night. And as you leaned in closer, the distance between you disappearing with each passing second, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you were ready to face them together, hand in hand.

[konigsblog]

a simple ask here but how do you envision konig?

I'm assuming this is about his appearance + personality... :3

Appearance -🪞

Thin rectangular glasses. He's always worn them, from when he was a teenager to his late forties. Considering he reads nearly every single day, he keeps them on 24/7, or he'll tuck it in a shirt pocket for easy access.

Long ginger hair. It's got some hints of auburn and blonde in it as well. It comes down to around his collarbones, but he keeps it up in a bun throughout the day. He doesn't enjoy having it sticking to his neck, but will melt at your comforting touch and the way you run your fingers through his straight locks. It's not the thickest, but it's also not thin either.

He has a scar on his jaw. It runs across his bottom lip on the left side and has scarred a pale white colour. It's not super visible, but there's an indent that will never fade away. It was caused by an enemy slicing across his face during his time in the military.

Freckles. They're all over his body, especially down his shoulders, his arms, and his legs.

Pale, blue eyes. His eyes look tired constantly, with prominent and deep eye bags that have been there since he was a kid. It's natural, but makes him look exhausted.

His teeth appear straight and don't look out of place or crowded, but if you take a closer look, you'd notice that they're a little bit crooked. Especially his bottom teeth. He's tongue tied well.

A roman nose. His nose is pretty large, but fits his features well. His features are sharp.

Behaviour/personality - 🧠

TW: CREEPY BEHAVIOUR, RAPE, TOXICITY.

He comes off incredibly creepy. He doesn't properly engage in conversations unless he's actually interested or has initiated it. But, if he finds you attractive then he'll choke on his words and admire your beauty, how you'd look naked and spread out on his bed. He doesn't pay attention to whatever you're rambling on about. You're too pretty to have an opinion, you'd look perfect by his side, agreeing with him.

He's a social reject, he always has been. People dislike him for being eerily quiet. As a kid, he was chubbier than the rest of his peers, but as a teenager, looked lanky and thin after a growth spurt. At 16, he was 6’8”, and finished growing at 17.

Perverted. He's ashamed of himself for his sick and depraved behaviour, of course. He upskirts women while on the train/bus without their knowledge, getting himself excited when they're not wearing anything beneath their skirt. He'll follow them off at their destination, break into their house, and take them when they're not expecting it at all. Whether that's in the shower, or getting changed after a night out. König gets off to the thrill, knowing what he's doing wrong and immoral. He hasn't been caught before – hasn't been called out for the collection of women's underwear he's collected after using their bodies. He has found women passed out in alleyways and taken them in the middle of the night, unable to hold himself back. He should be in his apartment, in bed, getting some rest. Instead, it's one in the morning, and he's fucking a drunk, unconscious woman and stealing her panties, with the hopes he'll impregnate her. In a relationship, he's pushy. He doesn't ask for sex and just cums all over your slick cunt and mouth while you're fast asleep. Your body reacts to his touch, so clearly you want it too.

Toxic. König can't love romantically, he doesn't know how to, he's never been given the opportunity (for obvious reasons). His first relationship was at 28, but lasted 2 months max... He uses guilt tripping and manipulation to get what he wants, coercing you into forgiving him. Oh, you want to break up with him because he's toxic? Do you also want your nudes to be leaked, too? He didn't think so...

Incel. Misogynistic. Sexist. He doesn't come across that way at first, and if anything, he seems genuine and kind-hearted. But once he's in a relationship, he really exposes himself. König doesn't expect you to have standards for him, but has a plethora of expectations you must meet otherwise he'll bitch and whine until you obey.

[reiderwriter]

hi!!! omg i’ve been following you for a bit now and i saw that it’s not only your 1k celebration(AHHHHHH OMG CONGRATS GIRL!!!) but also your birthday soon!!! So happy birthday and i hope you’re having a fantabulous day!!

If it’s not too much trouble, could i request #4 on your 1k celeb list for Spencer Reid? maybe like imagine they’re undercover in a club or at a party and reader has to dance on him for some odd reason and boy is already mad in love and now he’s got a hard on while his crush dances on him for a case and reader maybe takes mercy on him and drags him to a private place tooooooo😋😋

it’s totally okay if this isn’t to your fancy so don’t feel pressured at all!! i love your writing so much and i just know anything you write, even if you don’t write this ask or if you change it up, will be amazing!!! enjoy your birthday b and take loads of a care of yourself!💕💕

A/N: Thank you for the request, and I AM SO SORRY it took me nearly four months to get to 😭 I actually loved writing this one, so I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the birthday wishes 💖

Warnings: public sex, sex in an alleyway, talks of oral (m receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, creampie, coworkers to lovers, spoilers for upto season 7 of Criminal Minds.

“Cover? Right now? I'm wading through three caseloads of paperwork right now, I don't have time to go gallivanting across the country for another unit.” You stressed to your Unit Chief as she smiled sympathetically at you.

“Temporary reassignment means your desk will be cleared of work when you return, I'll personally complete it myself. That is if you decide to come back.”

“It would take one hell of an offer to get me to join another team, ma'am, and you know it.” 

Working under your boss Andi Swann at the Domestic Trafficking Task Force was something you took a lot of pride in. The work you did saved hundreds of women across the country, and you found justice for the ones you were too late for. It had been your second choice after you'd left the academy and a particularly ambitious one, all things considered. 

“Y/N, the Behavioural Analysis Unit needs you. Now, I remember your resume as well as you do, most likely, so don't try to convince me all of the profiling credits and courses you took at the academy were solely to be used for trafficking work.” 

You flushed as the woman caught you off guard. It was true that you hoped to someday be able to transfer to the aforementioned unit, but you truly still respected the woman in front of you. 

Deciding that your respect trumped your human need to placate her worries about you suddenly skipping out on her, you simply cleared your throat and spoke as calmly as possible. 

“What is it exactly that the BAU needs me for?” 

The older woman smiled back at you and shook her head slightly before opening her mouth again. 

“It seems that one of their team members needs a date.” 

–X– 

Having recovered from the shock of your reassignment and its details, you'd found yourself packing a few things from your desk, grabbing your go-bag, climbing into the elevator and arriving at the doors of the BAU.

You then struggled for a few minutes to open with all the things crowding your hands. 

“Here let me,” a voice said from behind you, as you suddenly saw an arm come up around your side to push the door open. You followed your gaze up the arm until your back was against the door, moving backwards even as he pushed it open as your throat went dry.

The man in front of you was hot. It was as if some deity had plucked your ideal type out of your mind, moulded him with clay, and kiln fired him before placing him right back in front of you as temptation.

You were sure that minutes had passed since he'd spoken with you just staring up at him like this, but alas, you really couldn't help yourself. 

“Oh! Thank you,” you smiled, hoping it would diffuse the sudden awkward atmosphere that your staring had bought on. “I'm sorry, can you tell me where Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner's office is?” You mumbled out, trying to clear your throat silently as you lost yourself in the strangers' gaze. 

His eyes were locked on yours, and as he broke eye contact, your heart jumped as you noticed his ears were stained red, embarrassment apparently not lost on him. 

“Up the stairs, first office, his name is on the door. You must be SSA Y/N.” Shocked to hear your name drop from his mouth  you felt a Rusholme mortification as you studied the man once again. 

Slightly messy hair, pile of books in his hand, dressed like he'd fallen into a closet at a retirement home, tall wiry frame. 

Ashley Seaver's description of Doctor Spencer Reid had been spot on. Apart from the part where she had failed to mention, he was quite possibly the most attractive man on earth. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked, voice a squeak, almost scared that you were wrong despite there being no suggestion that you might be.

“How did you…?” His eyes widened with a smile as he looked back to you again, searching for answers with his head cocked slightly to the side.

“I work in Domestic Trafficking. Agent Seaver and my unit chief both gave me brief descriptions of your team so I wouldn't get bogged down with introductions when I got here.” You explained quickly for fear that he'd think you slightly stalkerish for knowing his name, even though he obviously knew yours as well.

He smiled slightly awkwardly again  and gestured further inside the office, sending you off to your temporary new Unit Chief's office with a small whisper.

“I look forward to working with you.”

--X–

The debrief with Aaron Hotchner was swift  and you appreciated the man's ability to cut straight to the point. 

There was a killer targeting women in New York City, just like there were killers targeting women everywhere. But this one had taken specific issue with women who were social climbers, who attended events with high profile and successful men on their arms. 

So far, the NYPD could link 7 homicides to the killer and were under pressure to catch the guy before Lucky Number eight. 

The FBI had stepped in and suggested you be Lucky Number eight.

They'd been sent the case as a consult and provided the profile, to which the NYPD had asked for full cooperation. 

Which is how you found yourself on a jet heading to New York City two hours after Andi Swann had called you into her office. Productive day.

“What does your budget look like after a year of private jet travel?” You wondered out loud as you followed Hotchner onto the plane. SSA David had followed you onto the plane as well, having tried to introduce himself earlier. You'd allowed him the moment of humility before telling him you knew exactly who he was, and he'd be surprised if anyone in the entire bureau didn't. 

“Well they haven't put me on display yet, so I don't think I'm quite a fossil. Pleasure to be working with you.” 

His words were kind enough, but they were a reminder of the other man you'd met earlier. 

The man who had since climbed into the seat next to you, ready for the on the go case briefing.

“We've established identities for the two of you, ready for you to go in tonight to establish yourselves as bait,” Hotch explained, handing you each a personnel folder. 

“Spencer, you'll be Charles Buchanan, local businessman with alleged ties to several socialite families in the Upper East Side.” That seemed to earn a few chuckles from Agent Morgan from his perch at the other end of the plane desk, but he cleverly kept his mouth shut. 

“Y/N, you'll be Daisy Smith, you're a student putting herself through a graduate degree, who has turned to sugaring to cover course fees.” 

“Sugaring?” Rossi asked from Hotch's side, waiting for someone to clarify. 

“It's a term used to describe the act of being a sugar baby or sugar daddy. A usually non-sexual consensual relationship involving cash or other materialistic gifts.” Spencer filled in the gaps easily, without looking up from the file he was scanning ridiculously fast.

Okay, speed-reading and super intelligence check, and you were two for two on descriptions of Spencer Reid. Swann's description had also left a lot to be desired. 

“We've got Garcia establishing some online profiles for the both of you currently using the images you sent us earlier. Hopefully, we were correct in our estimation of his hunting grounds, but he'll need to stalk you for a night or two before he strikes.” 

You cleared your throat carefully as you finally decided to ask the question that had been bugging you the entire time.

“I'm sorry if this is forward, but is there a reason I was chosen for this assignment? I don't have much undercover experience, and I was told there were two women on your team. Was I misinformed?” 

“That's correct. Unfortunately, last week, Agent Prentiss decided to take a job with Interpol in London. Agent Jareau was also recently married, so she put in leave to enjoy her honeymoon. None of the candidates we have lined up fit our Unsub's type. You do.”

“As good as I would look in a dress, you're going to be much more effective at catching this guy,” Morgan joked from the side, just as Hotch accepted a video call through to the jet. 

“Morgan in a dress, sounds like one of my dreams come true.” 

“Calm it, baby girl, what have you got for us?”

“Invitations to a charity ball being held in Manhattan tonight, and around 1000 hits across five sugaring platforms for Miss Y/N. If the FBI turns out to be a letdown, you have a lot of serious offers here, sweetie.” You laughed out loud at how she blasted through and diffused all the tension in your team, without even thinking to introduce herself first. 

“You must be Penelope Garcia. It's nice to meet you.” 

“Not as nice as it is to meet you, I promise.” 

The remainder of the jet ride had been quiet if not restful, the presence of Spencer Reid a disturbingly pretty thorn in your side. 

You'd sneaked glances at him multiple times, not an easy feat on a jet filled with profilers. His fingers had grazed yours as he passed you his file earlier as well, letting you read up on his new character. 

What you found most distracting, though, was the now bare stretch of skin peaking out from his shirt collar. 

He'd decided to take a nap at some point earlier, and now you silently cursed him for it as you looked at the splash of skin distractedly. 

You could press your lips there and work your way up to his lips. Or you could go in the opposite direction and have more fun, you reminded yourself. 

It seemed that image had you waking up, jerking upright so that you would not let that go any further.

This was your job. You were a professional, an FBI agent. 

You weren't allowed to imagine giving this man a blow job on government time. You'd have to save that thought for after the case was closed, and you could go your separate ways, you thought.

Landing was easy  and you moved straight into dress fittings and practising your story for the party later that night. 

Which meant a blissful few hours without the distraction of Spencer Reid. 

Luckily for you, the first dress they'd given you to wear had turned out to be a good fit, showcasing some of your more prominent assets. 

It hugged your body tight, but it wasn't uncomfortable, showing off a generous amount of cleavage and leg as well. It wasn't quite scandalous, but you knew it was definitely the kind of outfit that would stick out like a sore thumb at a socialite dinner. 

Which meant it was perfect for baiting the unsub.

By 7pm, you'd been outfitted, prepped, and deposited in the back of a limousine with Spencer Reid, and you were right back at square one trying not to climb him then and there. 

His outfit choice had been slightly harder, apparently, given his taller frame, but the three piece suit they'd given him was do perfect it was hard to tell it wasn't tailored to his measurements. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, whispering the words in your ear as he stroked your hand. Although the limousine driver was an undercover NYPD detective, you'd both been told to get into character as quickly as possible. 

There were a series of other undercover agents being placed throughout the party tonight - Hotch was going in as a representative of the District Attorney's office, a few NYPD detectives were serving guests drinks and food, and Rossi had managed to get an invite as himself. 

Morgan was left running surveillance in the van outside. 

Because of your outfit and the nature of the unsubs attacks, there had been no point in trying to put a wire on you at this point in time. It'd take him a week of surveillance to pick you up anyway. Tonight would just be the start of his hunt. 

So you let Spencer stroke your hand, fingers locked in his as you gave him a smile, and tried not to imagine them wrapped around his cock. 

“Just a little. I think it's the dress  shows off a bit more than I'm used to.” He took a second to glance down your body, as if he'd been waiting for your permission until now, and you watched his eyes pause over your chest and at where the hem sat at the top of your thighs, dangerously close to bearing everything.

“You look… beautiful. I think our unsub will like it, at least.” 

You tried to hide your disappointment as he pulled his hand away, ready to open the door as the car pulled up to your destination. 

You surveyed the room as you walked in, trying to memorise every particularly leering smile from men as you made your way to your seat. 

After half an hour, though, it seemed like catching your guy was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. Or a creep in a room full of creeps. 

It seemed like every man who talked to Spencer only glanced at you to stare down your dress, a few even attempting to pat your back and let their hands drift south.

If it weren't for the sake of the job, you'd have sucker punched some of the richest men in New York City by now. And you'd have enjoyed it. 

Politely detaching himself from conversation, Spencer guided you away to the dance floor for a second. You'd planned it this way for when you needed some time privately to discuss potential suspects. 

A few other couples glided around the floor as you stood chest to chest with Spencer, surprised how confidently he was handling the caseload. 

His hands took their places, one on your hip, the other gripping your own as you both began to sway side to side. 

“Any ideas?” He whispered in your ear as you moved delicately. 

“Your 10 o’clock. Younger son of the Johnson family. He’s been sat glaring at me for 10 minutes despite his mother's attempts to network for him.” 

“It fits the profile, absent father, overbearing mother. He has obvious disdain for you. Is there anyone else?” His words were hot against your skin as you looked up at him, finding your lips surprisingly close as your bodies continued swaying together. 

“Half of the men in this room have undressed me with their eyes, the other half actually tried to put their hands on me when they were talking to you.” He stiffened at that, breaking eye contact as his eyes flashed with sudden emotion. 

His hand slid from your waist further down to stroke your ass slightly as he watched the crowd to see anyone taking offence at his sudden bold display of affection. 

At least that was what you assumed he was doing  as you too began to glance around, watching for anyone watching you, confident that Hotch, Rossi, and the others would do the same. 

When his hand on your ass pulled you closer into him, though, you weren't so sure. 

“Spencer, what are you-” You started in confusion, noticing that his gaze had returned to you. More specifically, that it had returned to your chest, as he stared down at how your breasts looked, pushed up against his chest as they were. 

He encouraged your other hand to wrap around his shoulder, freeing his other hand to land on your ass again as he pulled you closer still. 

You'd almost stopped moving, certain that having his body pressed against yours in every place hardly counted as dancing. You opened your mouth to say as much when you felt something twitch against your thigh. A low groan slipped from Spencer's lips as he adjusted your positions slightly as you felt something hard shift against your leg. 

“Do you seriously have a boner right now?” You whispered, as much in exasperation as in excitement. 

Spencer Reid was grinding his boner into you in front of a room full of people, and you felt like you'd just won the lottery. 

“I'm sorry, natural reaction. You look so hot tonight, and then your hands were all over me.” He rambled slightly in his explanations, mortification clear on his face as he tried to apologise. 

“It's okay.” You whispered in his ear, pulling yourself up on your toes softly to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

If you just so happened to rub up against him going up and down, eliciting another deep groan for the man, then so be it. 

“Y/N…” He whispered you name like a prayer and it almost convinced you that there was no one else in the room. 

“Spencer, there's no way our unsub is going to approach us if you have that thing tenting your pants.” You kept your voice low as your hands trailed down his chest. Pushing one further, you gently rubbed over his clothed member as if accentuating your point. 

“We need to solve this problem, don't you think?” 

His jaw clenched as he contemplated your words, trying not to let any other sounds out. His nod was barely perceptible, but within seconds you were glancing around the room for a quick exit, and in another minute, you'd slipped through a service entrance  and out through some corridors into a dimly lit alleyway. 

As soon as you were cloaked in darkness, Spencer was on you. 

Whirling you around, he backed you into the wall until your back was pressed into it, and his lips were on yours. 

You moaned helplessly into the kiss, hands finding his chest again and moving south even as he began exploring your body. 

“This is an important case, and we're about to blow it because I can't keep my hands off you,” he whispered between kisses, lips trailing down your neck. 

“Do you know how crazy we both must be?” 

“I know exactly how crazy for you I am, Reid. Now, please let me suck your dick.” You moaned the words as his fingers found their way into your panties, stroking your clit. 

“Y/N, I'm trying to talk sense into us here.” He groaned as your fingers fumbled with his pant buttons, hand sliding into the material to wrap around his cock.

“How much sense are you talking with your fingers inside me?” You panted, willing him to just fully let go and let you both enjoy yourselves. 

“While we're out here, Hotch and Rossi are inside, noting down anyone who takes particular offence to our exit. We can enjoy ourselves and catch a better lead.” You started slowly pumping him then, as he pushed closer into you, allowing you to reach more of him at this different angle.

His head dropped to your shoulder as he breathed out a laugh. 

“Right, this will help.” He tried to convince yourself, and you grinned in victory, rocking your hips against his hand to find your release sooner. 

Until he withdrew his hand and used it to grasp your own, halting your movements. 

“Spencer?” You pouted slightly, but he pressed another kiss to your lips  this time forceful and demanding, to guess begging permission to enter and dominate you. 

You gladly accepted him into your mouth, even as you felt him pushing up your skirt, letting the material ride higher as it had been trying to do all night. 

Making sure you were steady against the brick wall, he pulled your hips up and around his, pushing your panties to the side as he pushed inside of you. 

The stretch was maddening. Everywhere he touched became hot against the cool night breeze as he began his frenzied strokes into you. 

You lost all capability for speech, which was probably for the best, as you were sure you'd only ask for him to do more disgusting things to you eventually. 

His mouth slid to the top of your breasts as they bounced with each thrust, waiting to claim a nipple in his mouth when one eventually came free of the offending material. 

“Such a little slut, begging to suck my dick. Maybe next time, princess.” You screamed and arched your back as he finally bit down around your nipple, soothing the skin with his tongue as he licked and suckled there. 

His other hand fell to your clit again, pushing you to the edge as you finally came on his cock. 

He didn't stop though, powering through as you tightened around him, moaning wantonly as his thrusts hit deeper still.

“Let's see what our unsub thinks when he sees my cum dripping out of you,” he whispered again, as he too let himself go, releasing spurt after spurt of cum inside of you. 

Making sure you were strong enough, he set you back down on the ground, keeping an arm wrapped around you protectively as you smoothed your clothes back into place. 

You helped him button his pants as he smoothed your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear before ducking in for one more sweet kiss. 

“I'm sorry that I couldn't let you, uh, perform orally,” he blushed again, his ears that same shade of red you noticed earlier as he guided you back inside. “I think someone would have noticed if I'd ruined your makeup that much.”

You practically choked on your own spit as you finally slipped back into the dance hall.

“Next time,” you said, making sure to finish the conversation you'd started. “We’ll have more privacy.” 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Don't cha wanna dance?

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31

Prompt: New year's resolutions

Rated: T

CW: Vague boner references again

Tags: No UD AU; dancer Steve Harrington; good neighbor Eddie Munson; Flirting; Sexual tension

Notes: Continued from day 22. This is for @sourw0lfs and @wormdebut specifically, who very gently bullied talked me into writing more dancer!Steve. 🩰

Eddie has never understood new year's resolutions. He believes that, if he wanted to change something about himself, he could do it any time. Like quit smoking. Or stop biting his nails. Or be less of a goddamn push-over. 

Okay, so maybe the latter is something he should really, really work on, ‘cause it's gotten him into a whole shitload of unfortunate situations lately. As if chauffeuring Max to her stupid ballet classes wasn't enough. Now he's also helping out at the dancing school’s annual Christmas recital, because he's just such a nice guy, apparently.

While he tries to arrange the lopsided folding chairs into something resembling a neat line, he struggles to remember when he agreed to this shit. For the life of him, he can't recall. His brain was probably flat-lining when Max asked him, as it tends to do around a certain very hot dance teacher and his muscles and his tights and-

“Looking good!” 

He whips his head up. Steve is standing a few paces away. The tights are a pale pink today. Jesus Christ. 

“You too,” Eddie blurts. Steve's eyebrow arches and shit, he wasn't talking about Eddie, was he? “I mean, thanks, I … ow, son of a-”

“Oh, shit!” Steve is next to him in an instant, freeing his hand from the maws of the folding chair. Eddie swears, sucks his throbbing thumb into his mouth. “Sorry, these things are ancient. You need an ice pack? I've got some-” 

“‘m good,” Eddie says. Tries to go for suave. Fails because he's still got his own thumb up his mouth like a fucking two-year-old. “Had worse.” 

Steve’s face is a mask of doubt, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Anyhow,” he smiles instead, putting the offending chair in line with the rest. “I just wanted to say thanks again. You're probably busy enough around the holidays, but Max insisted you'd be happy to help.” 

“I'm not,” Eddie says. Pauses. Grabs a strand of hair to hide behind. “Busy, I mean. I am happy to help, so … don't sweat it, or whatever.” 

A heartbeat passes in awkward silence. 

“So, what's with the, um …” Eddie says. Watches how Steve tilts his head at him, hair swooshing with the motion. Briefly considers stuffing his thumb back in his mouth to shut himself up. “... with the y’know. The getup.” 

Something flashes across Steve’s face, something dangerously akin to hurt. 

“What?” he asks, doing a hesitant three-sixty. “Something wrong with it?” 

Screw the thumb, Eddie thinks. He needs to find a way to fit his entire hand in there. And Steve, for what it’s worth, needs to stop twirling, or they're about to have a massive fucking problem.

“It’s fine!” he says. Maybe a bit too fast, because he thinks Steve’s mouth curls into a smug smile. “I just mean, um … you’re not … dancing today, are you?” 

Is he? Oh dear God, please no. The place is gonna be swarming with proud parents and relatives, Eddie is not ready for the inevitable consequences of Steve in his pink tights on that stage. Not in the skinny jeans he had to wear today, stupid fucking moron that he is. 

“Huh? No, tonight is all about the girls,” Steve says. Eddie is so busy sighing in relief and nodding that he doesn’t catch the next words.

“Sorry, what?” 

“That other recital I was talking about earlier? You coming to that, too?” Steve repeats, and fuck, what other recital? Eddie really needs to work on his listening skills. If he actually listened instead of staring at the guy like a catatonic caveman every so often, he might be able to maintain a halfway intelligent conversation. 

He’d also probably know why Steve is suddenly coming closer. Eddie tries to take a frantic step backwards and almost crashes into the folding chairs. 

“Oh, erm …,” he stammers. “When was it again?” 

Stever reaches up to run a hand through his hair, boyish and bashful. 

“Um, New Year's Eve,” he says apologetically. “I totally understand if you already have plans, it's just… There's a little get-together after the show, too, with drinks and snacks, and I thought-”

“Sure, I'll be there,” Eddie says. 

See, what did he say? Total push-over. 

The thing is, with the way Steve’s eyes light up, he can't really find it in himself to regret it. 

*

“Ew, what happened to your finger?” Max looks about as disgusted as she sounds. Which is probably fair, because Eddie’s thumb has turned a vibrant purple. 

“These little babies did,” Eddie gestures offhandedly at the chairs they're stacking against the wall. “So be careful.” 

“Were you staring at Steve again?” 

“Fuck off, I wasn't.” 

She pushes the hair that has come loose from its bun out of her eyes so she can give him a deadpan stare. Eddie glowers right back. 

“And even if I was, what's it to you? You can be glad I keep showing up to these gigs. Today, on New Year's Eve, it's really getting-” 

“What are you on about?” Her entire face scrunches up in confusion. “There's no recital on-” 

“Oh no?” Eddie pulls the flier Steve gave him from his pocket and pushes it into her chest. “Then what's this?” 

“That's not our school, dumbass. Check the address.” 

She studies it for a second.

“Huh? What d'you…?” Eddie is already squinting at the letters again. Sure enough, the address doesn't match the one he's been driving Max to. Instead, it's somewhere downtown. “What?” 

“That's the studio Steve goes to,” Max has already returned to stacking chairs. “Super fancy place. He used to be a pro, y’know? Before he tore that muscle?” 

When Eddie doesn’t reply, she tugs the flier from his limp fingers, folds it neatly and puts it into his jacket pocket. 

“Happy new year, doofus. Better wear bulky pants.” 

All my holiday drabbles

[fastcardotmp3]

Steve is the first person Robin ever comes out to.

And it's good, it goes better than she ever could have hoped, it goes miraculously well considering just how reckless she had been about it in hindsight, how nearly accidental and vaguely self-destructive a choice it had been to wield Tammy Thompson's name like that in front of a boy she'd learned to trust within the past six hours.

The thing is, it's good, but she realizes later on that she never actually says the word. The big one, the identifying one, the one that gets thrown around as a slur as often as queer or dyke do towards any girl who dares not present in a specifically feminine way.

It's a bad word, a scary word, a word that drips off tongues like acid and drips drips drips a corrosive hole in Robin's chest every single time because if it's being said in her vicinity that means-- just at any moment-- anyone could figure out--

Robin doesn't care for the act of coming out either in theory or in practice. She believes that anyone she trusts enough to know gets to learn from context clues and anyone she doesn't trust will just never get to know her fully and that's good enough for her.

She doesn't sit her parents down and say, "Mom. Dad. I'm a--"

She doesn't sit her little apocalypse posse down and say, "Just thought you guys should know I'm a--"

She didn't tell Steve.

She doesn't say the word.

Because as much as she's able to accept who she is, it's so hard to claim a word that has been used like a weapon her whole life. Because as much as even her parents and her friends love her for who she is, there is something about saying it like that that makes her wonder if it could sully the support.

As if they'd realize oh, you meant like that...? and change their minds.

It's not until IUPUI, a little house in Indy with Steve, and a little record shop next door to the deli where Eddie got a job slicing meat that she starts seeing that word, feeling it anew.

There are zines at this shop, the ones behind the counter that she's offered after a few visits and a few conversations that she later recognizes as coded and questioning in nature.

There are stories and art and poetry and that word is all over them.

And the thing is? The thing that has Steve finding her crying in their living room one afternoon as she reads through the stack like it holds the answers to the universe?

Is that it is written and spoken and displayed like the most beautiful word in the world.

It's a compliment and a blessing and a brag. It's a little bit of magic and a great deal of history.

It's her, in the end. It's her and it belongs in her mouth, deserves to be spoken, because too many people are out there misusing it like a disgusting thing when it is divine, fucking love incarnate.

Robin tucks into Steve's embrace, his instinct to hold her even as he tries to understand what has her sobbing in the middle of the day, whether or not he needs to fight anyone about it.

He holds her and she holds him back and it only feels right that it happen like this when she takes his face in her hands, shaky but oh, so certain.

Steve was the first person she ever came out to.

If she's going to let the scary word become her favorite the way it is for the people writing it out so proudly, this is probably the place to start.

"Steve Harrington," she beams at the furrow in his brow, those big concerned eyes that she knows will be confused about this, but she knows will only hold her tighter once she explains. "Steve. Stevie. Guess what?"

"What's up?" he laughs, gathering the joy in her tears like she knew he would, and Robin feels something click in the moment before she says it to him.

Out loud and real.

Very nearly holy.

"I'm a fucking lesbian."

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompthagoreum Theorum. Cheers to ya'll for still following along despite it being, you know, June.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) 23: apology (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

At first, partially because it's 6am, neither of them recognise what Rosie is actually saying. But it's clearly directed at Sherlock, who looks at John from the table with an eyebrow raised.

John shrugs. 'What was that, sweetheart?'

She helpfully points at Sherlock. 'Say sorry!'

'Oh ba--balderdash,' John says. 'There was an episode of that Australian programme about apologising, I didn't think--'

'Be sorry, Sherlock!'

Sherlock looks merely amused. 'What for, Miss Rosamund?'

She moves her pointer finger to John, but her accusatory gaze stays on Sherlock. 'You ate banana.'

'I… ate your father's banana without asking?'

She nods decisively. 'Say sorry.'

'I'm very sorry, John. I shall ask next time before doing anything nefarious with your banana.'

How they manage to keep straight faces, John has no idea, but they deserve an Olympic sodding medal in parenting for it.

'She's not even old enough to really get the concept of apologising,' he says as it occurs to him. 'I can't--'

'Nonsense, she's brilliant. Aren't you?' This last is to Rosie, obviously, as he clears away her cereal bowl.

John rolls his eyes. 'Oh, so now you're in favour of emotional intelligence.'

'When it applies to my--' He smothers a wince, John is certain of it, but rallies immediately. '--my young flatmate, here, absolutely.'

He stands before John can say anything else. 'Time to be off, yes?'

'Sherlock,' he starts a few minutes later, but they're halfway out the door and he knows he's being cowardly.

Sure enough, Sherlock waves it off. 'You're for pickup today, correct?' John nods. 'Good. I've that case, have to go make several witnesses cry.'

John hides a grin, in case his newly-pious daughter is paying attention. 'Try not to get arrested, yeah?'

'I make no promises,' Sherlock calls back as he heads off down the pavement.

---

'John,' Sherlock says that night, once he's changed clothes and washed the distinct aroma of back alley rubbish off himself while John put Rosie to bed. 'You could take a turn from your daughter about the apologising. Be a good example.' His voice is light, but careful. Only a little bit mocking.

John, who is standing in the kitchen making coffee and around whom Sherlock has just reached to avail himself of the biscuits, is certain he didn't hear correctly. 'I beg your pardon.'

'No, you don't.'

John stares at him, mouth a little open. 'This? Coming from you?'

'Who knows you better?'

'No, I mean-- You never apologise.'

'Implying you yourself are a model for showing regret?'

John can practically hear the 'zing' of the direct hit, and it irks him. 'Fine, I apologise for nothing!' He stops. 'No, that's not true, I apologise for some things. A few things. Several things. I apologise for about half of the things!'

'That doesn't even make sense, you realise.'

'Shut up.' He pulls Sherlock to him. 'Shut up, you absolute wanker.' He drags their mouths together for a surprisingly filthy kiss considering how tired they both ought to be.

John has a suspicion, though, and he breaks the kiss. 'What's this really about?'

'Don't know what you mean,' Sherlock says against the skin of John's jaw.

'Sherlock…' He swallows, considers pulling back but isn't sure he'd be able to get through this if eye contact is involved. 'You know she's yours, right?'

Sherlock stills, his cheek brushing John's, and John feels him close his eyes. 'John, you mustn't say things that aren't true.'

'Oh for--' John does pull back, then, pulling on the back of Sherlock's neck and keeping him in check so he can't escape. He waits until Sherlock's focused on his face, on his nose today. 'Here's the thing: You're right. Beyond, you know, the big-- Beyond what we've worked out in therapy, I'm shit at apologising. I'll work on it for Rosie, and for you. Starting with--' He takes a deep breath. 'I'm really bloody sorry I ever gave you the impression I didn't want you as Rosie's father.' He sees and feels Sherlock's sharp inhale. 'I just thought you knew that you already are.' 

'John.' The air leaves Sherlock's body in a stream, warm and damp on John's skin. 'You're serious?' he asks, doubt small but lingering in his voice. 

John clears his throat, breaking their gaze to look down at Sherlock's collar. 'I asked-- Well, the papers have been drawn up, and I owe your brother now which will only come back to bite us in the arse, but--' 

Sherlock's mouth captures his in a desperate kiss, and John finds himself held so tightly he actually feels his heels parting from the lino.

'Sherlock,' John manages when they break briefly for air.

'Sorry, right,' Sherlock says, very near sheepishly, and loosens his grip.

'Don't be sorry, just, you know.' He tilts his head to indicate the hallway. 'Come to bed with me?'

Sherlock's eyes darken with a combination of lust and merriment. 'Where I can do nefarious things to your banana?'

John groans, then turns away and starts down the hall. 'Oh God, dad jokes now? I have so many regrets.'

'No, you don't.'

John smirks and holds the bedroom door open. 'No, I really, really don't.'

[ <3 ]

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

champagne bubbles. l Javi Gutierrez

Summary:  a little champagne and the conversation changed

Warnings:  +18, smut, swearing, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do that)

A/N: scribbles. i know i should be more forgiving of myself, but i'm not. sorry for the mistakes. i hope you like it. 🖤

"It was a really good evening."

"Yeah, it was."

You felt the soft carpet that covered the stairs under your feet. Javi nonchalantly walked next to you. His unbuttoned shirt revealed his sun-kissed chest, but his hair was still impeccably styled. It was a pretty sight, especially after such a nice evening.

"They should show up at the office tomorrow to sign the papers." you continued. "I can't believe that after so long we finally managed to finalize this."

"It's your success." Javi smiled. "And don't look at me like that! If you hadn't been watching over me, I probably would have abandoned this project a long time ago."

"You can buy me flowers and it'll be even." You nudged him in the shoulder, laughing.

You went upstairs and walked down the wide hallway. The champagne was slightly buzzing in your head, but you felt good.

You have been working for Javi Gutierrez for a few years now. Your relationship had changed from a professional to a more friendly one some time ago, and it didn't bother you.

You considered him a charming, funny and big-hearted man. He, on the other hand, often repeated that you were his guardian angel and did everything to make you feel comfortable. It was easy to fall in love with him, especially since you accompanied him to most of the parties and meetings.

However, this was a line you didn't have the courage to cross. Despite everything - he was your boss.

"I thought Mrs. Castillo would do anything to get some kind of bonus from you." you said as you turned into the next corridor. "She didn't take her eyes off you."

"You think so?" Javi laughed. "I'll send her flowers and wine, she should be happy."

"That's not the kind of bonus I was thinking about."

You bit your lip, seeing how what you said fully reached him. Javi opened his mouth, but smiled and shook his head.

"That wouldn't be possible, sweetie." he stated, still chuckling "My eyes were somewhere else entirely." 

"Oh, really?" you thought of that pretty blonde who had arrived with one of the businessmen "I'm not surprised. She was pretty."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I would swap bodies with her if I could."

You stopped in front of your bedroom door. Javi was watching you carefully, his hands hidden in his pockets, but when you finally mumbled a quiet "Goodnight" and grabbed the doorknob, he finally spoke.

"I think your body is stunning. What's more, I like it much more than that girl's body."

"Javi, I..." you gasped in surprise. "Thank you, I guess. How... How much did you drink tonight?"

"Not much." He shrugged. "And I'm surprised you could think I was staring at someone else. Especially since you're wearing such a sexy dress."

You felt slightly embarrassed, and his piercing gaze didn't make you feel confident. What's worse, you suddenly felt a strange shiver run down your spine.

"Was that another compliment?" you asked uncertainly.

"Of course."

"Thank you then."

"I could eat you out if you want." He stated, leaning slightly towards you. "I've been thinking about it all evening, actually."

He said it so naturally that you were sure he was joking. Because he had to be joking, right? You don't make that kind of offer in the hallway in the middle of the night.

"Javi, did you take anything?"

"Naah." He shook his head, smiling widely. "I'm almost sober and I'm completely serious, Y/N. Do you see yourself in the mirror? Fuck! I wanted to propose that to you earlier, but I chickened out every time. But tonight... Damn, girl! You looked amazing. Every guy there, and probably a few women, would love to be between your thighs."

You were shocked. It was the first time since you knew Javi Gutierrez that he said something like that to you. It was arousing, but you didn't think he could want anything from you, that he saw you as more than just an assistant.

"I feel a little uncomfortable." you finally spoke up "I mean... Your offer is really tempting, but I don't know what to think about it." Javi frowned, trying to understand your words. "You've never.... You've never spoken to me like that. Have you... Have you watched that movie we found on the streaming platform recently?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"About '50 Shades of Grey'. Have you watched it?"

"I couldn't sleep last night."

"Oh!"

"But that doesn't change anything!" he raised his hands as if trying to stop you from jumping to conclusions. "I wanted your knees to buckle, sweetie."

"They definitely buckled." you nodded. "But out of fear. Listen..."

Javi stared at you with his brown eyes as if you were the most beautiful creature in the world, and that didn't make anything easier for you. 

On the one hand, you thought he was the most charming guy you'd ever known, but on the other - his words really affected you. Maybe it was the moment you found yourself in, or maybe the champagne bubbles were swimming in your blood in too large quantities. Finally, the words left your lips.

"Maybe kiss me first before you propose something more? That would be quite nice."

All the uncertainty and fear disappeared from his face in a second. He took your face in his warm hands and for the first time you felt his lips on yours. It was intoxicating. His lips tasted of champagne, and you felt his pleasant scent in your nostrils. He kissed you tenderly, but deeply, as if he had been waiting for this for a long time. His tongue slipped between your lips, caressing yours, and soon you sighed quietly.

"Is something wrong?" Javi asked quietly, moving his face away from yours and looking at you with concern.

"No. I mean... My knees buckled under me."

His smile melted your heart completely. You kissed him this time, placing your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him closer to you. With your other hand, you felt the doorknob and without taking your lips off each other, you entered your room.

Your hands easily managed to get your clothes off, although Javi had to help you with the zipper of your dress. He kissed every new part of your body that was discovered, his mustache and stubble tickled you pleasantly.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked when you finally managed to reach the bed.

"Yeah, and you?" he nodded "Does your offer still stand, Mr. Gutierrez?"

"Fuck, yes!"

Soon you were lying on the soft pillows when Javi made himself comfortable between your thighs. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, and gently kissed your thigh as he approached his destination.

"I've been thinking about this for so long." he mumbled, and you felt a pleasant tightening in your lower abdomen "I was sure you guessed what was on my mind. When you were talking to me, my brain would turn off and all I could think was 'I wonder what she would do if I sucked on her pussy right now'."

"Jesus, really?" you giggled.

"Oh, yeah. And now, I'll finally find out."

He licked your folds, and then his lips sank into them. His tongue teased your clit, and his lips began to suck it, driving you crazy.

"Look at you." he murmured contentedly, running his fingers over your pussy. "So pretty and so impatient."

Two fingers slid inside you. It had been a long time since you had felt someone else there other than your fingers or a vibrator. You lifted your hips, but Javi held you with his other hand.

"Stay like this, baby. Just let me do it."

So you let him.

His fingers moved inside you with such precision as if Javi had instructions for your pussy. His lips found your sensitive bundle of nerves and after a moment you grabbed his hair tightly as you rubbed your cunt against his face.

"Fuck, Javi!" you gasped, feeling how close you were.

He couldn't answer. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, he felt your walls squeeze his fingers tighter and tighter. Javi wanted to stay there forever. Your scent, your taste, the way your body begged for more - it was addictive. His fingers were covered in your juices, he knew you were close.

"Jesus, please..." your voice trailed off.

He lifted his eyes and saw your breasts heaving and your body arching. You were so beautiful. More beautiful than ever before. And when he crossed his fingers and started rubbing small circles on your clit with his thumb, you finally flew off.

A sweet moan escaped your lungs. Your thighs squeezed his head, but Javi wasn't going to complain, he sucked your juices not wanting to waste a single drop.

"Fuck, you're amazing." he whispered as he finally sat up and looked at you. "I could spend the rest of my life there."

"Wouldn't you rather put something else in there?"

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips found yours again. You felt your taste on his tongue, but you didn't mind. You wanted to feel Javi inside you, and seeing his hard cock, you knew it would be something wonderful.

"Javi?" you whispered uncertainly as he grabbed his cock at the base and ran it over your wet pussy a few times. "I haven't been with anyone in a long time."

"It's okay, baby. Me too. Since you showed up... I couldn't. A condom?"

"I know you're clean. I saw your tests." he laughed quietly. "I have an implant."

"Great."

His tip slowly slid into you, and you held your breath.

"I'll go slowly, baby." he said tenderly.

And he did. His cock slid in slowly, and you felt your walls stretch, wrapping around him, welcoming him into your warm interior. Javi's eyes traveled from your face to where he disappeared inside you.

When he was completely inside, he stopped. Your body quickly got used to his presence. You felt filled to the brim and slowly began to want Javi to make a move.

But he had time. He took your leg and kissed your calf and ankle in several places, placing it on his shoulder. The new angle made him slide even deeper.

"You're so tight, I've never felt anything like this before." he whispered, tilting his head slightly. "I feel like I could come right away."

"Javi, please..." you whispered. "I need you to move."

"You need me?"

"Yes, I need you to fuck me."

Your words went straight to his member. With the first thrust, your hands clenched the sheets. With the second, all the air escaped from your lungs. And then all you could hear was the slapping of skin on skin as Javi pounded into you faster and faster.

You opened your eyes with difficulty, but the sight was a reward. Sweet curls fell over his forehead, his chest glistened with sweat. Javi breathed through clenched teeth, and his dark eyes didn't leave your face.

"Fuck!" he hissed "I need..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He lowered your leg and was already lying on you, resting his arms on your sides. You wrapped your legs around his waist and again you felt him pound into you.

This was something deeper, stronger. You felt his sweet weight on you, his hot breath on your neck, his lips that found yours, kissing you almost painfully. You wanted it harder, faster, more intense. You were already so close to another climax that when you felt him reach for your clit it was like salvation.

"Javi!" you moaned.

"I'm close too. Give it to me, baby. Please... I want to feel you!"

You came with a loud groan feeling your whole body tremble and your nails dug into Javi's strong shoulders. But he didn't even notice. The squeeze on his cock was overwhelming. He thrust a few more times and soon he spilled warm cum inside you.

You were breathing deeply still not being able to fully understand what had happened. Your bodies were wet with sweat and suddenly it seemed to you that the room was incredibly hot.

Javi lifted himself up on his shoulders and looked at you from behind his disheveled hair. The cutest sight you've ever seen.

"Do you think I could stay there for a while longer?" he asked, glancing between your thighs, his cock still buried inside you.

"I think he likes it there." You replied smiling and fondly stroking his rough cheek.

"Definitely." He leaned down and kissed you tenderly. "You know, I wouldn't want you to disappear tomorrow."

"Javi, this is my bedroom." You giggled and saw a faint smile on his lips. "I'm not disappearing anywhere. But you don't disappear either."

"I won't."

So he stayed. And in the morning you could repay him by disappearing under the sheets while he was still asleep.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[littlemissaddict]

So this is inspired by a video I came across on tiktok where a guys girlfriend asked him to come dance in the rain and it was so adorable watching how excited he was that I couldn’t help myself.

Also this was originally a Steve blurb but I changed my mind right before posting.

It was the very unlike Eddie giggling that alerted both Robin and Steve that something was up, we'll that and how he jumped up from the couch in the middle of the movie to run to his room. Both Robin and Steve shared an equally confused look as they could hear Eddie shuffling about in his room, the closet door opening and closing and his still excited giggles.

"Dude what?!" Steve asks as Eddie finally re-emerges from his room, still wearing the black ripped jeans but his band shirt had been switched to a white shirt tucked into said jeans with the top few buttons undone. Robin and Steve share a look at the button-up, both completely unaware that that was something Eddie owned.

"It's like something out of a movie can you believe it?" He smiles wide as he bounces on the spot.

"What is? You're gonna have to give us a bit more," Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie's complete obliviousness to their confusion.

He holds his phone out, "she messaged look" he tells them, phone shaking about too much for them to actually read, "it's raining.... come dance with me" he's practically vibrating with happiness as he pulls to phone away from them just as quick and tucking it into his jeans pocket. "Can you believe it?" He repeats again, spinning on the spot like some lovesick teenager.

"Who?" Steve asks, confused still as he doesn’t recall Eddie seeing anyone and he's sure he would've heard about it.

"His girlfriend" Robin confirms, fighting the urge to laugh at how Steve's eye comically widen in surprise, "I'll catch you up later" she adds, laughing to herself at just how oblivious her best friend could be to those around him, as she turns back to Eddie who was now fussing over where his keys were. "In the bowl by the door" she smiles with a shake of her head.

"Thanks, gotta go" he waves as he makes a beeline for the front door.

"Well that was something" Robin chuckles as Steve hums in agreement, eager to know more about this girlfriend he's heard nothing about.

It's a couple of hours before Eddie returns, and when the door opens Robin and Steve are quick to turn to him. A rather damp Eddie dramatically slides down the door to the floor when he sees them, a smile on his face that he doesn’t think could ever be wiped away, its going to be his new normal he thinks.

"That good?!" Steve asks as if Eddie's appearance is not enough to tell.

"Yeah we need details" Robin adds.

"I-I I can't even speak it was just ahhh" he shakes his head as he gets up, the past few hours replaying in his head as he feels the butterflies fluttering in his tummy again. "Amazing, insane, god it was fucking unforgettable" he says finally after shutting the door and going them in the living room again.

"Sooo," Robin encourages hoping to get something, anything from him right now, planing on living through him for a moment considering she's single af right now.

"We were under the rain, in front of the car with the lights, you know like in movies where the light just illuminates the rain and it looks to cool, so pretty," he speaks, his words fumbling as he tries to emphasise just how amazing the moment was. "We were hugging, swaying together with the stereo turned all the way up you know," he adds trying to imitate the movements, "and then we kissed and then..." his mouth running a mile a minute until he's interrupted by Robin.

"If this is going were I think your going then I'm gonna need you to stop" she holds her hand up as she says it getting a pout in response, "I know I said we need details but not those type" she explains herself to which Steve pipes up,

"I need those details," he nods, "later though" he adds after a glare from Robin.

"It's just I can't put into words the feeling, it's just taking over but I'm so, so happy" Eddie sighs, dropping onto the couch and melting into the cushions with that same face splitting grin on his face.

"Sound like your in love love" Robin teases.

"Yeah this is dangerous man" Steve agrees with a chuckle, "happy for you though man" he adds as they leave Eddie alone to bask in his post date bliss.

And fin! If anyone wants me to write up the date let me know and I just might 🤪

[divineerdrick]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon Upd8 for August 11, 2024

So I've heard we have an upd8 today! And we've got a news post too! Right off the bat, we'll have another chapter "a little later in the month." Guess I'll have to keep my ear to the ground. Not sure there's an extension out there that can determine when the team upd8s a Ren'py game attached to their website.

I haven't been able to support the Patreon for a bit, so I'm unaware of the music previews James mentions. His little spiel makes me worried he might go Grimdark at some point . . .

We've still got another collab in the works, but we don't have the details yet. And yeah, I've been experiencing heat where I live that definitely slowed me down a peg.

On to the upd8!

Holy crap! Year 4!

Even with the realizations she made before, apparently this is still really slow going.

Nanna!

Oh wow! She's literally growing up! Wherever she is, she's physically aging in what is probably real time. Here's a shot from the last blog for comparison.

Her hair and horns are both longer, she's taller in frame, her neck is longer, and her eyes and mouth sit smaller on her face. Somehow though, she's still fitting into her outfit. Wonder if they're letting her alchemize new clothes?

Oh man! We've apparently missed some reconciliation with Eridan, John, and Kanaya! I feel especially robbed about missing out on the Kanaya portion. But we all know who the "HER" is. Though it would be a hilarious fake out if it was Nepeta or Feferi!

Hah! We apparently have both Nannasprites here!

Vriska does not say no to cookies!

We get another callback to Vriska's previous adventures as she remembers talking to John about their relationships with their ancestors. But she apparently doesn't understand how humans can have family ties. At least she seems more curious about it now.

Of course Nanna would have to describe having a child as having "novelty". It's nice to see a little bit more background on this version of Jane.

Vriska just cannot get past the idea why anyone would put up with a baby given the unavoidable accidents.

Nannasprite has apparently seen everything Jane has accomplished and is, at the very least, curious how things might have turned out if she hadn't settled down.

Wow. That had to really suck. Nana never felt loved or even wanted before she settled down. That might have been why finding someone who did love her and want to start a family with her caused her to change all her plans.

This is another attitude that Vriska previously would never have considered. She was always certain she had to be best, had to surpass every expectation, and very much felt she had a destiny to fulfill. The idea that someone would just "give up" on all that and do their own thing is more alien to her than humanity itself.

Wow! Vriska was actually mindful she might have lost her cool and genuinely apologized! She is learning!

And some genuine affection here too.

Wait! That's broken Paradox Space! Is Vriska facing Game Over Terezi?

And these are Vriska's typing quirks! Wait! Does she have to come to terms with Game Over Vriska? AKA (Vriska)? Does she have to reconcile with herself?

Wait! Mindfang? Does she have to come to terms with her relationship with Mindfang? If that's the case, no wonder she's not getting anywhere. Everything else has probably been about figuring out what the other person wants. But Vriska's problem was she was always trying to live up to Mindfang, an extremely poor example and role model. In this case, she almost certainly need to stop caring about what Mindfang might want.

Oh! It's not Mindfang! It's Vriska's idea of her, all wrapped up in her relationship with her lusus. It's basically both of Vriska's parental figures rolled into one.

She definitely needs to not give a shit about what this entity wants! While there is value in understanding who her lusus was and who Mindfang was, there is no value in engaging with them. This is all about Vriska learning how trying to live up to their needs and expectations, instead of living up to her own desires, caused her so much pain and heartache.

Heh! "Momfang."

Wow! They really are wrapped into one!

Also I can't decide if this reminds me more of the Venom symbiote or Conceptual Hair.

It is important that Vriska recognizes that these two entities were formative to her. But I really feel like that's all there is here. Understanding who they were and the impact they had on her life. The next revelation is that this doesn't need to define her.

Momfang's words echo a lot of Vriska's own thoughts and words on death and murder. Whether she, or indeed we, like it or not, Vriska does need to forgiver herself for her past. But not by accepting the violent environment as justification. She needs to understand that while she has extenuating circumstances for what she did, Vriska still did those things. She has to come to terms with that and forgive herself for it.

Vriska has learned from Vrissy! Suffering is not what makes you strong. Just as the muscles of a body builder tend to be weaker, more limited, and even useless compared to those of an athlete, suffering often comes with just as much that weakens you. Strength always has to come from within. Someone's strength who gets there through finding something or someone to be strong for is just as valid as someone who gets there through pursuit of an ambition is just as valid as someone who gets there through hardship is just as valid as, well, any path that gets you there. It's a bitter pill if you're the one who's suffered. But it is the truth.

Even on Alternia, none of this was ever fine. Even by their standards, her childhood was full of abuse and violence.

Man! The team is determined to make Momfang's twisting form as creepy as they can for mostly still images!

I don't know if Beforan Lusus could be like this, or if this quirk was part of Scratch's work. But we clearly see that some Lusus just weren't good guardians, despite coevolution. "But so are some parents!" I hear you cry! That's still different. While it's possible in the vast variety of humanity to be raised by a true monster, most abusive parents are still human. There are paths victims of abuse can take to find comfort or even peace and understanding because of this.

Vriska's "mom" is literally a spider, an animalistic predator. "HUNGRY. KILL. FUCK. EAT. FEED." On earth, even when spiders demonstrate sentience and intelligence, it is from an entirely different evolutionary path. We could not relate to the mind of a spider. And neither can Vriska.

There are many reasons why a parent may become abusive.

Vriska's was abusive because that helped it find prey.

Yep. This is not about what Momfang wants. It's about what Vriska wants. "And wasn't considering it now, to 8e clear." Again. Spider!

Huh! But that doesn't stop Vriska's image of Mindfang from being curious.

Vriska knows part of what's wrong. But as most of us know all too well, knowing what a problem is only the first step in fixing it. All you can do is try to catch yourself when "you're doing it again," while also trying to not make that become something you're constantly on guard about.

"Oh my god. Tavros was right!!!!!!!!!"

As was Nannasprite! You're supposed to learn form each of these "sessions" and use that to help with the next.

Now I'm sure that "h8r" is talking about Terezi.

We've often believed that what we read of Mindfang's journal was tame. Homesmut Mindfang is apparently canon.

No Momfang! No! You do not get to use Mayor callbacks!

"What will you do?"

Vriska knows what she wants. How does she prove it? Killing or being eaten seems like it's just more of the same. This could just be as simple as walking away.

Only way to win is not to play. It was always a false binary. There was always another option, it was just a case of seeing it.

Happy Vriska is best Vriska!

Yep! Just walk away!

Yeah, no! No hug for you!

Can't decide if I like "Gestalt of Rivia" or "Hierarchy of Arachneeds" more!

Let's not stop there though! I feel like we know enough now about how this works to start making some predictions.

So the Cueball suggests Scratch. He also played a great role in Vriska's life and actions. How Vriska needs to grow past him is trickier. Scratch was only ever using her, and I'm pretty sure Vriska knows this. Now she's dealt with Momfang, though, I don't think she'd get hung up on him. He is considerably cannier than Momfang, but this still feels like a misdirect. It could potentially lead to Rose. She's the other Hero of Light after all, and she and Vriska have both Scratch and the Cueball in common. I'm willing to bet Vriska didn't take enough advantage of Rose's presence on the meteor. This might create a scenario where she just has to learn from her fellow Hero.

Then we have a feather. This is probably the hardest to draw any conclusions from. The only character in Homestuck connected to feathers is Dave. Another potential hero to learn from. It's just hard to imagine not having to reconcile with Terezi, and I'm pretty sure she's not the 8ball. But I also can't think of how the feather connects her to . . .

Scales! It's a bit of a reach, but scales and feathers do have a connection. Also, why would Vriska have a feather? Maybe it's a quill that she used in her FLARPing days? Either way, I'm gonna say the feather is Terezi. Mostly because it's what I want.

The 8ball will be (Vriska). Vriska needs to come to terms with her Game Over self. She needs to realize that it not only was she wrong to look down on her, but that (Vriska) was always right to just look for happiness. (Vriska) was always valid and deserves to lose those parenthesis. Even if they are really convenient.