#knuckles gets some with the whole 'being the LAST OF HIS KIND'

[playertwotails]

Ya'll ever think about how the Sonic characters either do have or hinted at sadist backstories that never get talked about in main headline games. CAUSE I SURE DO.

[synthetickitsune]

Joshua (SVT) | Hand sizes fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader (but reader has smaller hands than shua) A/N: SOMEONE (ehm ehm @hanniedream) mentioned shua's hands to me and now i wanna die

“You know,” Joshua starts out of nowhere, pausing the show you were watching, and licks his lips, “You’re literally dating me and you never asked for something the fans ask me for all the time.”

You scoff, but a smirk plays on your lips while you turn towards him. “I’d hope so. What kind of kinky shit is it?”

He rolls his eyes with a sigh. “It’s innocent, pervert.”

“Okay, sorry, what is it then?”

You watch with a confused frown as your boyfriend sets the remote down and shows his palm to you. When you don’t catch on, he continues: “You never asked to compare hand sizes with me.”

You blink at him a couple times with a deadpan expression.

“We’re literally holding hands all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same,” he pouts and nods towards his hand. You quirk a brow at him.

“Joshua, I don’t need to compare your hand with mine to know yours is enormous,” you try to say it gently, but the situation is too unserious. He shuffles closer to you, angling his whole body towards you. You watch with nothing but pure amusement as he huffs when you make no move to do the same, so he has to adjust his position, pull your legs up and over his own thighs and then pull you closer. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re being difficult and mean,” he narrows his eyes at you.

“Mean? Avoiding holding hands from now on would be mean,” you tease, relishing in the way his eyes widen and the disbelieving sigh from his lips, “But I’m not doing that, am I?”

“I bet you will though,” he murmurs, his lips pouted and his eyes holding the same hurt as a puppy that was denied treats. You sigh, reassuring him you wouldn’t do that to him. “Prove it then. Hold my hand, I dare you.”

It’s a trap. Of course it’s a fucking trap. You know it, he knows it, he knows you know it, and you know he knows you know it. Everyone knows it.

Just the same as everyone should know that your very petty boyfriend will give you the cold shoulder while doing his best to pretend he isn’t actually doing that if you refuse. You’re also pretty sure the pout would get stuck on that pretty face, which might not be as bad, but it’d be one more thing for him to whine about. Again, not that bad. Why are you letting him manipulate you then?

You slide your hand into his extended one. In your last effort to get some control over this situation you pull his hand to your lips and slowly kiss his knuckles. “There, I’m holding your hand.”

Joshua smiles, leaning over your hands to kiss you, to connect your lips as well. 

“Thank you,” he coos sweetly, kissing your cheek right after.

And then, inevitably, he pulls aways and in one quick maneuver has your palm pressed against his. He chuckles like he’s surprised that his hand is bigger than yours. Honestly you wonder if there’s anyone you know whose hands are bigger than your boyfriend’s. You smile at him fondly. He’s so easy to please sometimes, acting like he pulled off some grand scheme when it’s just… this.

“Wow,” he bites his lip and looks at you, “I won.”

“Yeah, like, you won the genetic lottery in every way. What a surprise, I haven’t noticed until now,” you roll your eyes, but you let him have his fun and don’t pull your hand away just yet. He covers it with his, now his time to kiss the back of your hand and rub his cheek against it.

“Sounds like you’re flirting with me,” he draws out the last syllable, grinning at you like you just admitted your darkest secret to him. Cute. He’s being too cute.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Can we go back to the show now?” 

You free your hand, only to change your mind at the last second - after seeing Joshua starting to pursue his lips again - and run it through his hair. You shake your head when he leans into your touch.

“Say you love me,” he demands softly. 

“I love you,” you say with your hand cupping his cheek. He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm before helping you untangle yourself from him and pressing the play button.

It doesn’t take long for him to pull you into his side and guide your head to his shoulder. It’s the perfect position to see him bite back a smile when you hold his hand under the blanket.

[urhoneycombwitch]

mean mouth

foreword: and if I said Eddie liked when you talked a lil' mean to him. what then. n e ways. just a little exploration of his early-day sub tendencies. I generally write Eddie as older but since this takes place in some nebulous time before s4 u can think whatever u want +18. ‘unnamed freak’ is Jacob. punk band name was not thought of by me but isn’t it great <3

cw: gn!reader w/breasts + V, oral (R receiving), unprotected PiV, soft!dom(ish) R, Eddie subbing from the top 😎, gotta-be-quiet-when-we-fuck trope my beloved

wc: 3.7k

____

The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

Eddie’s a blur of motion in the little trailer kitchen, knocking against your knees where you’re propped up on the counter (not entirely helpful but, in his words, ‘much-needed eye candy for the chef’), closing cupboards with a bang and talking animatedly over the hiss of onions cooking.

Your boy is loud, always has been, and tonight is no different- he’s crowing and cackling, recounting a particularly genius foible that he’d orchestrated during last night’s campaign, wooden spoon dipping in and out of heated pots over the stove like some crazed frizzy-haired potions master. 

“And then.” He punctuates with a jab of the spoon towards you, a long drip of spaghetti sauce narrowly missing your leg- you flinch and squeak in alarm, but Eddie just grins wildly, eager to get to the punchline. “Red rolls a natural. Fucking. Twenty.” 

“Holy shit!” Your smile is wide, natural and easy for him- Eddie’s excitement is infectious. 

“I know!” Eddie spins back to the stove, plunking the wooden spoon back into the simmering sauce before opening the oven. Heat from the broiler rises in a mouth-watering cloud of herby smell, and Eddie reaches for the metal sheet of garlic bread, still talking. “Couldn’t fuckin’ believe it. And then I- shit!”

You don’t put the pieces together until Eddie’s spinning away from the open oven, whole body moving with the force of his hand being shaken in the air- he’d touched the roiling-hot metal with his bare hand.

“Oh, shit, babe-” Sliding from the counter, you nudge the oven door closed with a foot, reaching out to assess the damage- but Eddie’s a whirlwind, jumping up and down, swinging his injured hand around in jerky movements, howling in pain.

It’s kind of freaking you out, ‘cuz you can’t tell if he’s playing up or if he’s actually got a third-degree burn. The voice that comes out of you is commanding, one that you rarely use, firm and louder than his hollering. 

“Eddie, for fuck’s sake- stand up and let me see it.”

That seems to do the trick. Eddie’s eyes snap to you, pausing mid-hop, and you take advantage of his semi-stillness to snatch his wrist and drag him towards the sink. The water runs cool and you turn his palm over in both of yours, breathing a sigh of relief when the pink welt across the bridge of his hand doesn’t have any blisters.

“Under the water,” you instruct, pushing at his silver-link braceleted wrist until he gets the memo, letting the flow from the tap ease the burn.

Eddie hisses through his teeth, and then goes quiet for the first time in ages.

There’s a few moments of this strained silence as you watch his hand carefully, color leaching back into his palm until you notice Eddie’s looking at you sideways.

Your shoulders hunch in a bit, arms crossed over your chest as you take a step back, misinterpreting his look as wounded. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just-”

“Hey, whoa, no-” Eddie’s hand automatically reaches for you, dripping water on the floor until he remembers his injury with a wince and plunges it back under the tap. “You don’t have to apologize for that. At all. Um.”

His left hand, the uninjured one, braces against the linoleum, ringed knuckles creaking as he shifts his stance. He sounds uncomfortable, and you’re about to start apologizing again until he lifts his head, eyes twinkling- “You were so bossy. It was totally hot.”

A shocked laugh burbles out of you, unsure if he’s joking or not- when he shifts his weight again, your gaze flickers down to the zipper of his dark jeans- he’s fully hard. 

“Oh my god.” Split between amusement and mortification, adrenaline from seeing him get hurt fizzing through your veins, you laugh again- this time, sardonic, into your hands, shaking your head. “Jesus christ, Eddie.”

“Can’t help it.” He’s close to whining, hips pressing flush into the cabinet, partly to relieve the ache in his groin and partly to toy with you. “Goddamn. Sound so sexy when you tell me what to do-”

There’s a teatowel hanging from a nearby rack; you snatch it up and whip it at Eddie’s shoulder, playful and irritated as you snap, “Shut up.”

“Oh, yeah, just like that, baby-” Eddie’s fake sultry voice earns him another towel-whip, this time at his neck- he squawks, ducking to avoid another blow while still keeping his hand under the water.

“Ridiculous. You’re ridiculous,” you announce with finality, slinging the towel over your shoulder and turning on your heel. “I’m gonna get the burn cream. Try not to cum or die while I’m gone.”

His bright laughter follows you all the way down the hall.

___

The next time it happens, it’s sort-of on purpose.

Eddie’s glowing with a post-show rush- a local business convention meant Corroded Coffin got to play for a nearly-packed room. Nevermind the fact that their Bruce Springsteen cover was the one bringing in the most applause; Eddie’s always been able to feed off the energy of a crowd, and tonight was a riotous success.

The Hideout is loud but your boy is louder, as per usual. There’s sweat curling the baby hairs at his temples, bright spots of flushed pink in his cheeks from the round of whiskey you’d bought the band as a congrats. 

He’s making a toast to his laughing bandmates, to beautiful you, to any nearby drunk who will listen, proclaiming his lust for life with one boot on the well-worn table in noble pose.

“And to Bev, the best of us-” Eddie tips his half-empty glass towards the nearby bar, shouting over the din of the jukebox and lively chatter, “-may your sharp-tongued wit live on!”

Bev pauses service to flip him off, and Eddie collapses back into the comfort of your arm over the booth’s top, grinning when the band trio of Jeff, Gareth, and Jacob nearly fall out of their chairs with laughter.

It’s always hot to see Eddie in his element, and tonight’s not an exception. He turns to lean into you, looking down the slope of his pretty nose like he knows why you’re staring.

A charming wink precedes, “Come here often?” but his flirting is interrupted when Jeff gets up for another round and bumps the table- whiskey sloshes over the side of Eddie’s cup and coats his hand in stickiness. 

He swears viciously, yanking out his bandanna to wipe at the mess while you laugh over the rim of your own glass at him. “Real smooth, babe. Good thing you killed it on stage, otherwise I might not take you home.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, inhaling for another cheesy line to wow you with when his gaze flicks past you and his face falls. 

Across the table, Jacob mutters, “Oh, shit,” and Gareth glowers.

Following their eyelines, you look over your shoulder to see Nico Hawley, frontrunner of Hawkin’s own punk band (the Scumshots), enter through the front door in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

When you turn back to Eddie, he’s already twisting the damp bandanna around his rings. The usual softness of his doe-brown eyes are now flint-sharp, and with a rush of panic, you remember the last time Eddie and Nico ran into each other; the night had ended with you back at the trailer, holding a cold pack to Eddie’s split lip, which he’d received from engaging in what he referred to as “friendly fisticuffs”.

There was nothing friendly about the way Eddie stood, then, to his full height, dark and imposing with his big mane of hair and leather jacket. The other Corroded boys won’t start any shit themselves, but will absolutely back Eddie up (fearless leader, resident shit-starter, instigator extraordinaire). 

Time’s running out for you to get a handle on the situation, Eddie already moving to slide past you out of the booth when you snag his left jacket sleeve in a tight grip.

The first yank you give stops him in his tracks; the second, more intentional tug gets his face level with yours, Eddie’s hardened stare giving way to confusion as you pull him into your space. 

In that same authoritative tone, you pin Eddie in place with a fistful of leather and command, low, right in his ear to be heard above the bar noise, “Don’t. Sit down and be good.”

At first, you’re not sure it worked, because Eddie’s just staring at you- slightly slack-jawed, pretty pink o mouth as his gaze flickers to your lips, back up to lock in your gaze again.

And then, by some miracle, Eddie obeys. Like a well-trained, marvelously-behaved dog. He’s back in his seat with a jolt to the booth, hand curling around his whiskey again. 

Curls spill and shift around jacketed shoulders as he shoots the rest of the glass, adam’s apple bobbing, other hand slipping to cup your thigh hidden from view. “It’s not worth it,” he announces to the rest of the group, sounding strained, staring at the bottom of his empty glass, knuckles white with force.

Jake sighs, relieved, but Gareth scoffs, tipping the neck of his beer across the table to point, goading Eddie with  “Since when have you been the one to take orders?”

“Shut up,” Eddie shoots back, blood returning and redistributing enough from where it had all rushed south, enough to defend you and himself against his drunk bandmate. “We’re already on Hop’s shit list, asshole, can’t be catching any more charges for stupid fuckin’ bar fights.”

Nico had disappeared into the throng of people at the bar while your group has been arguing- probably for the best that he’s out of eyesight. Unperturbed by Gareth’s comment (he likes you fine, he’s just grumpy from the alcohol and itching for a fight), you sip your drink and give him a shameless wink. 

Underneath the tabletop, Eddie’s palm flattens over your jeans, fingers dipping to toy with the denim seam hugging the fatty plush part of your inner thigh. You shift your hips, subtly, feeling flush with heat and power. Just a couple of words and you have him eating out of your goddamn hand. 

Jeff returns, setting a handful of beers in the middle of the table. “Saw that shitstain Hawley at the bar. What’d I miss here?”

Gareth swoops in with accusatory explanation, seizing another bottle out of Jeff’s hands. “What you missed is Eddie’s balls on a leash-”

“Jealous you don’t have someone at home to tie you up, Emerson?” Eddie’s dig comes swiftly, lips quirked in a smile around the rim of his drink. 

There’s a raucous burst of laughter, Gareth’s curly mop of hair gets ruffled playfully, and everyone eases back into celebration, all while Eddie’s thumb edges closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.

___

The next time, though? Totally on purpose.

There’s a sliver of gold from the hallway light spilling under Eddie’s closed door, left on in case Jeff or Gareth needed to use the bathroom during the night. 

And despite the fact that two of his bandmates are passed out on the couch and floor just a short walk away, Eddie’s hands are exploring the length of your body under the sheets like he’s got plans to map you with his tongue. 

“We- ah- can’t.” Your whispering scold is interrupted with a sharp gasp when Eddie nips at your neck. “No fooling around. Not when we have guests.”

His left hand drips over the swell of your breast, squeezing and kneading, your nipples perking to attention (traitors) underneath the bra you haven’t yet had the chance to take off.

Eddie adopts your quiet tone as he speaks between kisses that trail further down your body, not outright ignoring your weak protests but not doing much to combat them, either. “Mmm. Got me so worked up. Been driving me crazy since the bar, y’know that? ‘S cruel, baby, can’t just talk mean and expect me not to act on it.”

“Wasn’t mean,” you counter, hands shifting automatically to wind through the soft locks of hair tickling at your stomach as Eddie continues his path downwards. “Didn’t wanna have to patch up a split lip. Had to make you behave somehow.”

The vibrating groan Eddie gives against the soft skin of your stomach tickles; when you squirm, shushing him again, his hands slide to your hips, pinning you in place. 

Nose to your navel, warm breath fanning across the strip of skin just above the band of your panties, Eddie sounds strung-out already, close to begging. “Please, baby. I’ll be good. Make it so good for you. I’ll be quiet-”

His head snaps up at your sudden gasping laugh, chin perched on your tummy as he scoffs. “What, you don’t think I can keep quiet?”

“Eddie Munson, you couldn’t be quiet to save your life.” Your hands migrate to his cheeks, squishing them together fondly as he grins around your touch, his thumbs working circles at your bare hips. 

“Ye of little faith.” In the dim light of the room, Eddie’s teeth are a flash of white before his mouth dips to press against the wet patch at your underwear.

“Fucking… shit-!” The expletives fly out harshly, only because you weren’t expecting the wet stripe of his tongue against your clothed folds. Head dropping back to the comfort of your pillow, you get one hand in Eddie’s hair again, the other finding its way to twist at the sheets.

You can feel his smile, equal parts smug and sympathetic as he coos saccharine to your inner thigh- “Now, now, angel. Gotta be quiet.”

Not willing to lose the fight, you focus on clamping your mouth shut, eyes closed in concentration- even as Eddie slides your underwear down and off, a quick flash of blue fabric before it’s swallowed by the floor’s darkness. Even as he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard like he’s been deprived of your taste for too long.

When his tongue breaches your entrance, a soft gasp escapes, one that has your head turning sideways to grab some pillow with your teeth. 

Eddie brings the wetness from your entrance up again, spreading it over your pulsing clit, nerve endings fizzing bright and hot in your stomach from the attention.

On instinct, your right leg kicks out, jolting with the spasm of pleasure- Eddie’s quick, though, taking advantage of the movement to find a new hold at the back of your thigh; rings biting cold, he pushes until you bend for him, your knee now pressed towards your chest.

“Gonna make it so good for you.” Eddie’s mumbling pussy-drunk rambles into your cunt that’s now on display, dragging his nose through the slick that weeps out of you, all for him- “So wet for me, angel. Fuck’s sake. This all for me?”

As if he doesn’t know. The hand that isn’t busy holding you open trails up your thigh, middle finger teasing at your entrance before slipping inside, no resistance thanks to the river of slick that rushes to greet it.

There’s a soft squelching noise as Eddie adds a second, curling them up, stroking against that tender gummy spot that always skyrockets your pulse. 

The noise is almost enough to give you pause; feeling wild and flush with heat, your hand tightens in the crown of Eddie’s hair, eyes popping open as you prop yourself up on an elbow to give a strangled hiss of warning through your teeth.

Eddie senses your unease, pulls his fingers and mouth out and off (a travesty), softening the blow by giving a placating kiss to the top of your mound. “Shhh, sweetheart. S’okay. You hear that?”

Past the noise of nighttime crickets from the nearby cracked window, past the hum of the kitchen, you hear it as Eddie crawls back up- distant, tandem snores from the boys in the living room.

“They sleep like the dead. Like rocks,” Eddie promises, settling his weight into his hands planted on either side of your head, hair creating a curtain around your faces as he leans in. “So we can get our rocks off.”

“That was awful.” You kiss him anyways. He tastes like you, earthy and warm and wet, saliva mixed with your arousal as the kiss turns sloppy.

Eddie rocks his hips forwards, the friction from the fabric of his boxers making you both gasp into each other’s mouths. He’s achingly hard, cock leaking and smearing precum through the cotton; there’s a hurried, manic shift as you both work to strip the last pieces of clothing from yourselves, his boxers and your bra following your underwear from earlier into the dark of the room.

And then Eddie is sliding his cock through the folds of your pussy, slicking up the sizable length as much as he can before the tip nudges at your entrance; Eddie’s arms tremble with effort as yours wrap around his shoulders, soothing with a kiss to his cheek- “Lotta talk about keeping quiet, Munson. That’s all it was? Just talk?”

Now that his mouth isn’t intent on making you fall apart anymore, you’ve got some breathing room to tease. To be the one to work him up. Tucking a curly lock of hair behind his ear, your fingers trace adoringly over his temple before sliding to grip the back of his neck. “Gonna prove me wrong, hotshot?”

With this new proximity, you can see Eddie’s eyes- fixed intently on yours, black pupils nearly eclipsing the soft amber of his irises. He looks slightly feral, sweat sticking his bangs in place, lips parted, spots of pink staining his cheeks. 

As if he doesn’t trust himself to speak, Eddie’s near-silent as he slides himself in to the hilt, jaw dropping as the warmth from your walls encompasses him completely.

The chained guitar pick around his neck tickles between the valley of your breasts. He pants, chest heaving, not daring to move yet; your breath stutters. You can feel him in your throat.

“So big,” you murmur, an honest reaction but one that has Eddie’s brows drawing together, a little whine escaping as his hips jerk forward, reflexive to your words.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” 

Eddie’s voice, strained though it may be, is on its way to regular volume. At the back of his neck, your hand flexes, a warning as he begins to rock steadily into your tight heat. 

“Gotta be good.” Biting back your own groan, you sling your leg over his waist. At this angle, you can press your heel to the dip of his lower back. “Be good and quiet for me and I’ll let you come in my p-”

His hips snap forward, audibly, subsequent wet noise obscene, filling the room. Eddie moans into the curve of your neck before your sentence is even fully formed- “Jesus, baby. Oh my god. Can’t say stuff like that, gonna come too quick-”

His cock fits along the contours of your cunt like you were made for him, ridged tip dragging against that same sensitive spot of your front wall with each pull and thrust.

Eddie’s forehead thunks into yours as he rolls it back and forth, mindlessly. All the tease has melted out of his voice: it’s been replaced with a lust-filled rasp, rock-salt and deep. 

Your voice, however, is all tease, still hushed but laced with mischief despite your mounting pleasure. “Yeah? Gonna come in my pussy?”

It’s almost not fair and you almost feel bad, seeing the way Eddie fights to make his gasp silent as the channels of your cunt clench in answer to his fucked-out expression. With his next thrust, Eddie loses the battle- a hoarse, blissful moan much too loud spills over and out into the quiet room. 

Moving quick, your hand slips from the back of Eddie’s neck to his mouth, palm flat over the plush of his lips.. The commanding tone comes easy this time (with practice, you’ll surely be a natural).

“Eddie. Be. Quiet.”

Usually, Eddie’s got stamina enough to prioritize your pleasure, making sure you’re taken care of at least twice before he even thinks of himself. Tonight, though, he’s already been straining in his jeans for hours, unbearably turned on from your earlier sharp words, pushing the limits of desperation.

Your words, once again, do the trick. Eddie’s cock pulses, and he comes hard, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your hand, chorus of whimpers successfully dampened. His dark brows knit together, eyes pinched shut, nostrils flaring with each stilted breath.

He’s so fucking hot when he comes, hair a riot around stormcloud eyes that open to take you in. Even prettier when he’s coming down, leaning into your hand for support before you take it away, guiding and encouraging him to lay down.

Eddie collapses, carefully enough that it doesn’t jostle you, but still with his full weight. The crown of his head radiates heat against your chin. 

His arms wrap solidly around your middle as he whispers (he’s learning) in croaky fragments, “Jesus fucking H. I think you just broke my brain. Smashed it into a million little pieces. Never come so hard in my life. I’m in love with you.”

The laugh you give him is quiet but golden, the rise and fall of your chest causing his head to bounce a bit (but Eddie could die happy between your breasts so he doesn’t mind). “See? It’s worth it to listen to me, sometimes.”

“You’re so smart. Gonna do whatever you say, forever and ever. Cart-blank.” And then he’s pushing up onto his elbows, keeping his face level with your left breast so he can suck your nipple into his mouth, gently worrying his teeth over the peaked bud.

Previously tangled in the sheets, your hand flies up to grab his shoulder, nails digging in. “Fuck. Fuck, Eddie. That’s good. And- ah- it’s ‘carte blanche’.” 

He leaves the comfort of your breast with a sigh. “Whatever you say, princess. Gonna let me fuck you some more? Your turn to be the loud one.”

[biteyoubiteme]

cherry flavored

yeonjun x fem!reader x huening kai

synopsis: you go to a costume party with your boyfriends

warnings: 🔞!!! established relationship, throuple/poly, no mxm, fluff, threesome, praise, mentions of drinking/being tipsy, no protection, oral (f!rec), slight fingering, orgasm denial mentions, no protection, creampie, multiple orgasms (f!rec), overstimulation (f!rec), cum eating (f! and m! yj eats kais cum out of reader!) crying, reader called she/her, pretty, baby prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.4k

an: it’s my birthday! so why not post about my favorite enfp’s <333 this photo lineup has been sitting in my drafts since july omg feedback is appreciated :)) not proofread im so sorry bbs forgive me. I have what feels like a ton of other yeonkai fics lol check them out [m.list]

this is apart of my minikinktober event check out the other fics! [dumdum m.list]

“Do you think this one is cute?” you ask, holding up your phone to yeonjun. The two of you are leaned back on the couch, your back to his chest, like you’re his personal weighted blanket. 

You're only a month away from the annual halloween party held by yeonjuns team at one of the members' frat. It wasn't usually your first option to spend the night, or any night, in a frat house, with or without your partners but any chance to dress up in your costume was taken. It was always so fun to plan out what the three of you would wear, trying not to do the same as last year, or trying to find costumes that complement each other without having to match. 

It was one of the best parts about october. The trips to pick up costumes are always fun. Walking the aisles as yeonjun flips through his options, knowing exactly what he wants to be just as early as you do. Huening on the other hand usually needed help and was always open to whatever you put him in. you would hold up options asking, “what about this one?” and he would say the same thing, “this one's good, i like it,” his cute little smile so ready to please. Even when you would hold up all the different choices asking him to pick just one he's just going on, “you pick one, the one you like,” 

“It's your costume,” you try to remind him but he insists every year on letting you dress him up. It's always your favorite part that if the costume has some kind of makeup kai will sit so still for you, eyes closed as you fuss over his look. And when you're done, your knuckle pressed to the bottom of his chin looking him over, he will open his eyes and look up from under his lashes at you. It gives you butterflies everytime, that puppy dog gaze telling you he's so willing to let you do anything you wanted to him. 

But this year you were leaning towards simple, angel and devil themes. It had been easy to find yeonjun and kai’s outfits but you needed to get yours ordered. And now showing yeonjun your pick he nodded, “that one is perfect,” the costume was added to your cart and ordered without question. 

And when the three of you were getting ready for the party you sat down both boys to place their headbands on. “For you, my angel,” you smile down at kai tucking his hair behind his ears. The little halo is perfect to match the wings on his back. You bend to place a soft kiss on the bridge of his nose before turning to yeonjun, “and for you,” 

As soon as you step into the space between his legs his hands are on the back of your thighs pulling you closer. The red and white dress you're wearing is short, split down the middle showing how the two of them make up two halves of a whole. “Your devil?” he asks, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you place the little red horns on his head. 

“You are devilish,” you grin, feeling his hands slip up your skirt cupping your ass. It was his favorite thing to do when you wore anything short; handsy at the best and worst of times. It was so easy to fall into a kiss with him, arms wrapping around his neck, needing him closer. His lips are so perfect for makeouts but you feel kai tug on the edge of your dress. “If we start now we won't go at all,” 

“Okay okay,” nods pushing away from yeonjun who only shrugs, “we don't have to go,” 

“You're the one who has to show face,” you remind him, the complaints always about how yeonjun never really went out with the rest of the team. But he was content with his small group of friends and he hated drinking around people he didn't know well. It was why he claimed being the designated driver, not wanting to deal with an uber on that side of town anyways. 

But almost as soon as you arrived he was pulled away from you and kai. Thrown into conversations so easily. But you never minded it, especially when you had kai by your side following you around like a lost puppy, making room in crowds so you wouldn't bump into anyone, carrying your drink that he made for you. 

The two of you giggling in the kitchen together trying to think of what exactly went well together with all the random bottles around. The kitchen is the only place in the house with the normal lights on, no colored LEDs washing you out. Kai keeps bumping into your headband when he lowers his head, his fingers flicking the halo before tapping the little horns. “ Angel or devil?” 

“Both, i needed to be able to match both of your outfits no matter who i was standing next to,” you sip from your cup grimacing at the taste, “this one isn't that good,” 

“Sorry,” he laughs taking it back passing you the other one he's made, “try this one instead,” 

The ratio of cherry coke to liquor is just right enough to keep drinking. 

But it was easy to lose count of how many you had. Dancing in the crowd and you didn't even realize the two of you were feeling it until you found yourself in the back corner of the room with kai grinding into you. all mentions of dancing out the window. He was fully hard pressed against you, mouth hot on your skin. Both of you trying to devour each other like you weren't in public. 

“Look at you two, I can't leave you alone for five seconds when you get tipsy, too horny for your own good,” yeonjun chuckles from behind you. You don't even have to turn around to see his smile, the ghost of it in his words. 

“Sorry,” Huening tries but it's insincere; he's already dipping down to put his lips back on your neck. You giggle, turning in Kai's grasp to reach out for yeonjun, wanting to be sandwiched between them. Kai wraps his arms around you keeping your ass pressed against his erection, lips behind your ear. 

Yeonjun knows exactly where your mind is going; see the way the idea flashes in your eyes. It wouldn't be the first party you suggested the two of you wedge into an empty room, not even the first time you would have suggested it just be the three of you. 

 “We are going home now,” he shuts the idea down before you can even open your mouth. 

“Jjunie,” your whine almost always works on huening but he wasn't so easy. 

“oh no we’re going home,” 

 “Nooo,” “but hyung-” you and kai try but yeonjun shakes his head, the dull party lights making his horned headband glow. 

“yes, yes we are,” you reach out for him hoping physical contact will persuade him. 

“But don't you want me?” it's a stupid question, you both know it, there is never a time he isnt thinking about wanting you, especially not when he sees you a mess in huenings arms. 

“i always want my pretty girl, im just not able to fuck you the way i want in the frats bathroom so we’re going home,” 

“But don't you want me bad enough to not care?” he knows you're trying to push his buttons, the way you are looking up at him under your lashes, hand sliding up his arm beckoning him to break. “You can wait the length of the drive,” 

“So you don't want me bad enough?” he only has to take a step to be flush against you, the hard length of his cock pressed right to your pelvis, you gasp, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt. His nose brushes your ear as he whispers, “we're going home,” no room for any more argument as he pulls away, “huening are you ready to leave?” 

Kai hums in response from behind you, the vibration felt against your back. Yeonjun links his hand around your wrist like a cuff pulling you to follow him. Your hand in huenings, the three of you a chain as you weave through the bodies to make it to the front door. Yeonjuns nodding goodbye to anyone he knows, free hand shoved into his front pocket to fish out his keys. 

When you make it to the car, he opens the backdoor for you and kai, “buckle,” he mutters, not closing the door until you two are both fastened in. 

The way yeonjun climbs into the front seat feels like a scolding alone. But you ignore him distracted by the way kai keeps readjusting in his seat, jeans pulled tight now that he's sitting. Your thighs pressed together as you leaned into him, usually you hated the middle seat but you wanted to be close, perfect now for you to reach out and trace the outline of his bulge. 

Kais hips jerked at the feeling, his hand reaching out for your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh. You giggled as you danced your fingers over him, his soft whines filling the car as yeonjun pulled out of his parking spot. 

“Neither of you understand how to wait,” yeonjun tisked, hands tightening on the steering wheel. You're watching him in the rearview, kai kissing over all the hickeys he made earlier on your neck, fingers sliding farther up and under your skirt. You're fumbling with the button on his jeans, widening your legs as he rubs over your clothed clit. 

Yeonjun doesnt let the sounds in the backseat distract him, eyes on the road, the soundtrack of your moans playing for him as he comes to a stop at a red light. He looks at the rearview to see you already looking back, mouth slightly open as you whine, washed in the crimson glow, huenings face buried in your hair as you palm him over his underwear. 

It's only a block away from the apartment but it feels like the longest stretch of time between that light at your front door. But as soon as you are in the elevator headed up to your floor it's impossible to keep himself away from you anymore. 

yeonjun pushes up against the cold metal walls, skin flushed enough to feel the sting. Hot hand sliding up your thigh, the skirt of your dress caught on his wrist as he held your waist. He pushed his body into you, holding you captive, free hand coming up to cup the side of your neck, thumb brushing against your jaw. He can feel the pulse in your neck as he kisses you; taste the remnants of your cherry chapstick. 

If he could kiss you forever he would make this elevator his home if only to keep your fingers in his hair, the echoing sound of your sloppy kissing never ending. The way you moan into his mouth makes kai jealous, it's never a feeling that lasts too long but when he's needy and hard it's impossible not to wish he was pressed against you. But watching the way yeonjun holds you makes him itch to get out of the elevator and into bed. The pressure of his zipper gone but even with his pants undone his clothes were feeling too tight. 

When the ding of the door opening was heard, the three of you stumbled out, yeonjun already with his keys in hand to unlock the door. Kicking off shoes as soon as you passed the threshold. 

Kai practically drags you to the bedroom, flicking on the lamp as you climb into the bed. He doesn't even give you time to decide where to go before he's pulling you back to the edge of the mattress. You're on your hands and knees, dressed getting flipped up and panties pushed to the side when yeonjun comes in, arms crossed as he watches. 

You had put a chair in the corner of the room for occasions like this, sometimes yeonjun just liked to sit back and watch, cock in hand as he praised you from afar. Other times he wanted to be up close, fingers on your clit, fucking your throat, leaving the chair empty. Now was one of those times, crouching down by the edge of the bed, finger lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. you felt kai dragging the head of his cock through your folds, already slick and ready for him. "look at me when he fucks you, i need to know if he's doing a good job or not," 

Kai only just inches in and you're gasping at the stretch, nails scratching at the duvet. Kais soft moans send you on a spiral as they gradually increase in volume, the pressure feeling so good. When he fully pushes in your lashes are fluttering, shoulders wanting to drop down to let him have his way with you. “Youre so fucking perfect,” kai moans, both hands holding your hips keeping you still so you can adjust to change. 

“Isn't she?” yeonjun can practically feel the way you would be wrapped around his cock, dripping wet and warm, squeezing him just right. 

“She's been teasing us all night,” kai starts, picking up a rhythm that has your stomach fluttering. “grinding on me knowing exactly what she was doing,” 

“hum now that’s not very nice,” your chin still lifted with yeonjuns finger as he shakes his head. “and not listening to me the first time and yet somehow you’re still getting what you want,” 

“i’m sorry-“ you try but yeonjun drops your chin, hand snaking under you until he’s pressed his fingers to your clit. it’s hard to breathe for a second with the combined stimulus but as soon as you look like you’ve regained the ability to think, yeonjun pinches your clit for a second. you jolt at the feeling slamming back on kai’s cock mid thrust. the pleasure and pain mixing together as yeonjuns quick to rubbing patterns back over your hypersensitive bundle of nerves. 

Nothing could slow kai down as he pounded into you, the slapping sounds mixing with your whimpers as you fell forward, elbows buckling until your face was pressed into the mattress. One of kais hands slips up your back pressing you down further to keep you in place. Yeonjun presses his mouth to your ear, “i don't even know if you deserve to cum,” his fingers stopping on your clit adding more claim to his threat. 

“No please, please,” 

“Let her- im- im so close and i need to feel her cum,” kais demanding head falling forward, the white wings still on his back, halo on his head of messy hair, strands falling in his eyes. His hold on your waist in bruising as he shoves the fat tip of his cock right against your gspot, it's almost impossible to think straight when yeonjuns back to rubbing on your clit. And when kai stills one last thrust pressing him right against your womb he dumps streams of warm cum inside your pulsing walls, your orgasm cresting, sucking him in and wringing him dry. 

Yeonjun is tired of waiting as soon as kais pulls out he's rolling you on your back and tugging your panties off. You're an absolute mess, cum spilling out from between your swollen lips, knees pulling in as soon as you feel yeonjun trying to get between them. “Oh no you're going to keep them open,” 

Kai pushes himself behind you so that he can hold your legs open for yeonjun. You're so exposed it should be a shocking sight but for yeonjun it's the best thing he could ever ask for. He blows a line of cold air over the sticky mess of your cunt watching the way you try to pull your legs closed. But kai does his job well even when your fucked out expression is so close to being tearstained. 

Yeonjun licks up your thighs first collecting anything wetness that's made its way down the smooth expanse of skin, the salty flavor of your combined release familiar. And when he licks up to your clit, circling his tongue around the swollen bud he's moaning like he's just found ecstasy. The vibration goes right up your spine and down to your toes. Your hands reach out to grab at huenings thighs, nails digging in as yeonjun dips down lower to your leaking entrance, sinful eyes watching you as he tilts his head sideways, devil horns pinching your thigh as he shoves his tongue into your waiting hole. 

Sucking lips and expert tongue working to clean you of the remenates of your orgasm. When he pulls away, chin glistening he mutters, “fuck i could cum just from the taste of you,” and when you clench around nothing more of kais cum slips out in a white stream that yeonjuns fast to collect. He pulls himself up and you open your mouth knowing exactly what he wants from you. Yeonjun lets the droplets of release fall into your waiting mouth and you're moaning as you swallow it all. Yeonjuns sloppy kiss only lasting a second before hes back down on your clit, latching onto your clit and sucking until you're trembling, tight knot in your stomach about to explode. “No jjunie please-” but you don't know if it is a plea for him to stop or continue not until your tears are tracing down your cheeks and you're cumming. You give a sharp whine, kais hold on you the only thing keeping you upright and open to take the wave of pure pleasure. “I love the sounds you make,” kai whispers into your ear, kissing your wet cheek. “Look at how sensitive we made you,” he drops one of your legs as yeonjun pulls back to unbuckle his belt. 

Kais free hand drips to your abused clit, even the smallest brush makes your whole body react, your hand reaching out to him to try to stop him but your hand is a weak bracelet around his wrist tightening as he asks, “who does this pussy belong to?” 

“Y-you,” 

“Us,” yeonjun clarifies and the pads of kais fingers start to move, spelling out yj & kai’s . Your back is arching, toes curling as he draws it out. each letter pulling out sounds you never thought you would hear before, gasping pleads and desperate whines. You're cumming as soon as he gets to the ampersand, his name drawn out to let you ride out his high. 

Yeonjun pulls you to the edge of the bed needing to be inside you. Your halo/horned headband is askew on your head and he's surprised it's strayed on so long. But he grabs your legs by the back of your knees, spreading you open and watching how your face goes slack, sweet eyes fluttering as he slides in between your abused folds, sinking deep into your welcoming walls. He doesnt think youll be able to cum again unless he really wanted to overstimulate you but you're still rippling around him from all your other orgasms, enough so that he knows he won't last long. 

Yeonjun rams into you taking out all his pent up want spill out here now. “Look at how pretty you are on my cock,” hes goaning, “so fucked out and willing,” 

arms are above your head, tugging on the sheets, taking the pounding, feeling him in your guts like he was made to be there. When huening reaches over to press on your pelvis your legs spread wider, yeonjuns moan ripples through his body, sinking impossibly deeper. 

Yeonjus body starts to tremble as he stills giving shallow thrusts before cumming, the look on his face intoxicating as you feel the heat of his cum dripping out of you. Hes fast to use his tip to collect anything that's spilled to push fuck right back into you, the mess of it slipping down his balls and spilling on the floor. 

Kai leans down to plant kisses all along your flushed cheeks, your weak giggle making him smile. Yeonjun kisses each of your knees before slowly dropping your legs back down. It's always so comforting to feel them around you, taking care of you after feeling so intense. Every little kiss goes straight to your heart. Nothing beats that feeling.

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[tired-biscuit]

is it weird I wanna rub my face against Logan chest hair?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // established relationship, domestic bliss

wc: 1.2k+

———

definitely not. hairy men are hot!

like, now i’m thinking about finally getting a day to yourselves and spending the majority of it in bed. cuddling, resting, catching up after an excruciatingly busy week, with your limbs tightly intertwined and your voices soft and hushed because despite being a mutant that’s been blessed with inhuman strength, logan’s body and mind both feel so overworked and exhausted that he’s practically sinking into the mattress with a prolonged and incredibly grateful groan.

continuously fighting for the sake of being the ‘good guy’ is no small task, after all… it can take quite a toll on him sometimes — powers or no powers.

still, that specific role has been graciously placed to the back of his mind for now because he’s fresh out of the shower and he’s scrubbed all of the grime and sweat off of his skin, keeping it clean until it’s time for him to head out the door again — straight into a world where wolverine stands front and center.

but for now, he gets to be just logan. nothing more, nothing less.

and speaking of logan; his hair is still slightly damp from the previously mentioned shower. the wolfy ear-like shapes that he prefers to style atop his head have drooped slightly with the weight of the water, and the apples of his cheeks have become flushed from the steam.

the smell of the shower gel that you had picked for him a little while ago at the store mixes with his signaturely masculine, heavy scent. it only intensifies, steadily filling your nostrils when you swing your leg over his middle to pull yourself on top of him and lay your head on his bare chest.

he didn’t bother putting a shirt on. i mean, why would he, when he’s in the privacy of his own home and at long fucking last doesn’t have to look presentable — he calls it fancy, the idiot — for anyone?

but anyways, his rough hands wrap around your hips when you straddle him. he exhales deeply, the breath long and content, but it breaks into a confused chuckle when you begin to rub your cheek against the hair on his chest all of a sudden.

“uh,” he starts, arching a dark eyebrow even though you can’t see it from how busy you are with smushing your face into his tits as far as it’ll go. “should i even ask, or…?”

“just petting myself against your love rug, my dearest,” you mumble, unfazed by the curiosity that’s lacing his voice. “unlike the rest of you, it’s surprisingly soft. feels kind of nice.”

the corner of logan’s mouth twitches upwards at that. it’s barely there, less of a smile and more of a smirk, but it’s there.

“unlike the rest of me?” he repeats, clearly amused in some shape or form now.

you stop the movement to roll your eyes at him. “i meant your crazy man muscles and the whole skeleton enveloped in metal thing that you’ve got going on for yourself, not your dick, you pervert.”

there’s a second chuckle slippist past his lips, and you can hear this one rumble in the depths of his chest before he asks, “who said anything about my dick?”

you look up into his hazel eyes as you rest your chin on your knuckles, grinning at the glint of playfulness that’s residing there. his forehead is smooth, no deep wrinkle of agitation in sight. gosh, you love it when he’s relaxed and happy. it makes him appear kinder, even if you do have a weak spot for his more broody side.

“well… what else have you got that’s hard, then?” you ask, choosing to play along now.

“easy,” he replies. “my heart.”

you stare at him. he stares at you.

a steady beat of silence stretches out between you.

“pfsh,” you huff finally, immediately snickering like a girl in love. “your heart? seriously?”

“what?” he asks, stroking his fingers up and down your sides. his touch is so warm, it stirrs you into motion, lures you into grinding your hips against his own. slow and lazy and thorough — just like the way your entire day off has been spent so far.

blood rushes below logan’s waistline as a result. he readjusts, gripping you tighter by the hips, pressing you down on instinct. you can feel him poking you between your legs already. eager.

“oh, nothing,” you purr, reaching out to comb your fingers through his hair, picking up the moisture there. “i’m just a bit taken aback by this piece of information, that’s all… i mean, for a man who loves to cuddle every chance he gets and who secretly enjoys having his fruit cut up by me into tiny little slices despite possessing claws, you sure as hell don’t strike me as someone with a hard heart, you know.”

foreheads pressing against one another, you keep your voice as quiet as it can be when you add, “the truth is that you’re a softy, logan... like a teddy bear or a really good pillow, it’s always nice to have you at home. and i love you for it.”

you say it like it’s a secret.

before he can respond, you lean in to place a gentle kiss on his lips, then, just for the sake of provoking him further. his stubble scrapes your skin, prickling slightly when he pushes forward to deepen the kiss, and you can feel his strong heartbeat speed up underneath your palms.

it keeps doing that as of late. racing on and on and on… hmm.

logan looks up at you, his pupils visibly dilating as he takes you in. the shape of your face, the curve of your cupid’s bow, the love that he still can’t believe you harbour for him of all people, and that’s currently swirling inside your eyes. you even smell like love, goddammit.

he doesn’t say the words back — he can’t yet, he’s not ready but he will be, you just have to give him time, just wait for him, please — but what he does is flip you around in one smooth movement and pins you down with the help of his hand holding onto both of your wrists.

there’s no pressure behind the grip, but you know he doesn’t feel the need to apply it because he’s positive that you won’t go anywhere. and he’s so big above you now; the curve of his shoulders is broad, the muscles in his back are strong and flexing with anticipation. even his eyes have turned dark. like an animal’s that’s gone into hunt.

he hunches his shoulders slightly as he drops lower to cup your cheek and kiss you again, this time being the one to initiate it first. with the distance now nearly gone, you open your legs further for him, locking your ankles on the small of his back. he uses the chance to press the hard-on that’s painfully straining his boxers against you.

breaths intermingle as you both begin to pant. his cock is big just like the rest of him is, heavy. you squirm, lifting yourself just enough for him to help you take your shirt off. his chest presses against yours after that, sharing the warmth, sticking with upcoming sweat, making you feel the silky smooth hair that’s residing there and driving you even more wild.

“oh, by the way,” he murmurs between hot kisses, fingers already tugging on the waistband of your panties, “never say love rug again. when you need me to pet you, just tell me.”

[rosyhoneydew]

"Buck, Tommy, hey! There's room over here, we'll scoot down!"

Evan bounds over to the booth, sliding in easily next to Eddie. Tommy's quick to follow, finding his seat next to Evan, but taking care to keep a small gap between them. 

In the weeks that the two of them have been together, it’s been kind of amazing to watch Evan dive headfirst into their relationship. Tommy has zero doubts about the two of them, but he does know that these moments can still feel a little scary in their novelty, and he meant it when he said he didn’t want to pressure Evan. 

He's aware that the 118 aren't anything like the guys he worked with when he was there. He's also aware, however, that no matter how close you are with your friends, your family, no matter how well they take it when you come out, it’s different, showing affection to another man so openly in front of them for the first time. 

At least, it wasn’t easy for him when he finally brought his ex, Mark, along to Harbor's holiday party. They were only together maybe 4 months before it was clear they wouldn’t work out, and Tommy's not convinced that it didn't have anything to do with how he'd tense up any time he felt his boyfriend's hand around his waist. He needed some time. He doesn't blame Mark for anything, of course, but he really likes Evan, so he's going to do whatever he can not to scare him off.

"You guys must work some crazy calls in Air Ops, huh Tommy?" Ravi asks, a while later. They've been trying to keep the shoptalk to a minimum, not everyone's partner is a first responder, but they seem to keep finding themselves back here.

Tommy opens his mouth to respond, but Evan is speaking before he has the chance.

"Ravi, you have no idea. The other day he flew out to PV, right? And his team had to rappel down and get this hiker into a basket. It was crazy! It's super hard to get close to those cliffs 'cause they crumble so easy, you know? They kept showing footage of it on the news." And Evan's a couple of beers deep but Tommy is certainly not expecting the confident way he slings his arm around Tommy's shoulders, effectively killing any space that was still between them, or the way he turns to Tommy, lowers his voice, and adds, "It was so hot."

He's pretty sure that last part was only meant for him to hear, but, well, Evan's not really known for his discretion. Hen snorts and Tommy's pretty sure she's laughing at whatever dumbstruck, lovesick face he's wearing.

"Cool!" Tommy hears Ravi say, through the thrumming in his ears.

It doesn't stop there. Evan keeps a hand on him all night. When Tommy goes to the bar to get their next round, Evan kisses him on the cheek, and when he returns to the table, his hand finds Tommy’s thigh. And more than once he feels his face burning hot at the sensation of Evan's eyes on him.

He’s brazen in the way he looks at Tommy, leans in to mutter comments in his ear, and orients his whole body to face Tommy. He’s pretty sure they’re being a little rude, neither of them fully tuned in to any conversation being held tonight, but he's silently grateful for the way their friends give them a little grace. He only spots a few good-natured eye-rolls despite the way they’re clinging to each other. Though, he has a feeling they’re only going to get away with this once. 

They stay a little while longer, finishing up a few bar snacks and listening to some of the wilder 911 calls Maddie had fielded that week before everyone starts to make their way back home. Tommy’s barely buckled himself in before Evan’s hand reaches for him again. He’s flushed, clearly buzzed, but his head seems to still be on straight. It lolls to the side as he looks at Tommy. 

“Did you have fun?” His boyfriend asks. 

Tommy smiles, lifting their joined hands, and kisses Evan’s knuckles. “Yeah,” he says, “I did.” 

[eternalsams]

Never Again ↝ Tyler Owens

pairing: Tyler Owens x gn!reader

content/warning: bit of fluff, pet names, mention of sex (but no description whatsoever), mockery, swearing, slight angst

summary: When Tyler is invited on a talk show about his notoriety on YouTube, he doesn't expect that kind of meeting.

words count: 1.6k

notes: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. NOT PROOF READ

You just came home from the groceries, your arms loaded with full bags and balancing yourself not to drop the keys when Tyler almost jumped on you. "Babe, I'm gonna be on TV!" He exclaimed, holding his phone and showing you the email he received. You blinked at him and didn't answer immediately, trying to process his words. "You what?" You then asked. He slipped his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed the two bags you were carrying, helping you get everything inside. "They somehow found my email and asked me if I wanted to be interviewed on live TV. National TV, babe!" He laughed and his phone started ringing. He pulled it out and his smile widened. "It's Boone. Don't worry about the groceries, I'll store everything myself, beautiful." He answered the phone and went to your shared room to call his best friend. You could hear his excited voice as him and Boone started getting each other going about the whole thing.

You grabbed Tyler's laptop and opened his mails, reading the last one he received. He was right, it was a big thing. The Tornado Wranglers would get a lot of new visibility with that interview. You were excited for Tyler, he loved being on camera, that was for sure. But he also loved meeting people who were interested in what he was doing. With that interview, he had the chance of showing the whole country how fascinating weather could truly be. You were disrupted in your reading by Tyler's scream in the bedroom, quickly followed by a loud laugh. You chuckled at how excited he was and closed the laptop before starting to put away the groceries. Tyler quickly joined you after his numerous phone calls and gently scolded you when he noticed you started storing the groceries while he said he'd do it himself.

"Did you answer yet?" You asked him after the euphoria of the moment passed. "No, not yet." He chuckled as he grabbed a piece of bread to eat it. "I wanted to tell you and the guys first. But especially you. What do you think?" He then asked, looking into your eyes. "I think it's amazing, Tyler. You're so passionate about what you do and you know so much. You'll be able to show people how interesting the weather can be. Maybe some kids are gonna go study meteorology because of you." You smiled at him as you grabbed his hand in yours. Your boyfriend smiled at you and brought your hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. "It's gonna be amazing." He practically day-dreamed. You laughed and bent over the table to gently kiss his lips, your hand taking place on his cheek.

Two weeks later, you were standing behind Tyler as a girl brushed some mattifying powder on his face. He didn't tell you but you knew his heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, both from excitement and anxiety. He was so scared to make a fool of himself, to fumble over his words and look like he was a fraud. When the makeup artist finished her job, someone opened the door and announced you had 5 minutes left before Tyler was called on-stage. "You ready?" You asked, smoothing his flannel shirt. "Why is my heart beating so fast? I drive through tornado for a living, I shouldn't be scared of this." He sighed, carefully rubbing his eyes not to ruin the makeup artist's work. "Don't worry, it's just the nerves. You'll be great." You ran your fingers in his hair, styling it the way you loved it and he kept it everyday. "I'm just a bit upset Boone and the others weren't invited. We're a team, they should be there too." He closed his eyes and tried to focus on your fingers against his scalp.

The door opened one last time and a man called for Tyler. You kissed his cheek and wished him good luck before you watched him leave with the man to get everything checked for the mic. A woman came to lead you in another room where the program was on TV. You thanked her and grabbed a glass of water before taking a seat on the sofa. A few minutes later, Tyler was called on-stage and you saw him on the TV. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as he shook the host's hand and took a seat in front of the man. A wide smile took place on your lips as you watched the man you love glow with pride on cameras.

"Tyler, I'm so glad you could join us tonight. You have quite a reputation on the internet!" The host started when the applause stopped in the audience. "The pleasure is mutual, thank you very much for the invite. It's an honor to be here." Tyler said, looking around at the audience. "For anyone who doesn't know Tyler, he posts videos on YouTube of himself and his staff driving through tornados in Oklahoma and Arkansas. You must be some crazy fella to do this willingly!" The man said, making the audience laugh and Tyler chuckled. "It's a good summary, yes. But we're professionals, we are equipped to do so and we only drive through EF1s or small EF2s." Tyler reminded with a smile. "EF1, EF2, what's that?" You knew the host wasn't stupid enough to not know what that meant, but you were grateful that Tyler could explain it, the passion on his face was pure gold. "It's a scale we give tornados. But what's really interesting is that we don't scale a tornado according to its size or its speed. We give them their scale according to their damages." Tyler explained. "So how do you know you're driving through an EF1 and not an EF5?" The host asked. "I studied meteorology so I can identify whether it's gonna turn bad or not and if I catch a single sign it's gonna turn violent, we just leave and find shelter." He explained with simple words.

"So you studied meteorology, got a degree, and still shoot fireworks up tornados for YouTube?" The man laughed and you could see something break inside Tyler's eyes. He played it off and chuckled. "Well, yes. I love that job, I'm having fun with my best friends and entertaining people. That's the dream." He laughed and looked around, starting to notice some unpleasant looks in the audience. "And have you ever tried doing anything else in that car when the tornado is hitting you? I don't know, read a book, play scrabble or even have sex." New laughter were heard in the audience as the host laughed at his own joke. A dry smile stretched Tyler's lips as he slowly nodded, thinking about how to answer this. He couldn't just leave, he wanted to be the more mature on this stage. Before he could even say anything, the host looked back at him with a smile. "Your partner is part of your team, right? Maybe if you asked, you could get a lot of views." He joked, making Tyler's blood boil in his veins. "That won't be YouTube anymore, that's more like reality show. That's not what we do." Some laughter were heard in the audience but he knew better.

"Alright, alright... But be honest for a minute, you have a million followers on YouTube, your whole staff-" The host started to say. "We're a team. I'm not the boss, I'm only the driver." Tyler corrected and you could feel he started to lose his patience. "Your team is very active on social media, you must've had some weird requests." The host then asked, faking a smile for the television. Tyler knew what he was trying to do, he wanted him to admit he'd been asked for a sextape through a tornado. And even though he received that peculiar request once or twice, nobody needed to know. You and him would never record that kind of video to post on the internet. "Someone once asked us to eat a pizza. And we all ended up having tomato sauce all over our faces." Tyler answered with a chuckle, now counting down the minutes before the end of the show. You watched as Tyler started to tap his foot in annoyance and you almost prayed for the host to stop his disrespectful questions.

The show regained a more respectful rhythm and when Tyler was dismissed, he immediately joined you in the backroom. "Let's go." He only said, grabbing your bag before taking your hand in his and walking, if not running, to the exit. He didn't say anything more until you were both in the car. He didn't start the engine, only staring at the steering wheel. "Tyler?" You gently put your hand on his arm but he violently hit the wheel with his hand. "Fuck! I really thought... I'm so stupid for thinking they'd be willing to listen to me." He rubbed his face and fought the tears away. Shame, embarrassement and anger were swirling inside him. "It's not your fault, Tyler. They were real bastards in there, you didn't deserve this." You tried to calm him down. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his shoulder, feeling him breathe deeply and relax. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel and tomorrow we'll have our flight home. You can tell Boone New York was shit and he'll tell you 'I told you so' before offering you a beer." You chuckled softly as you gently stroked his arm. Tyler nodded and started the rental before driving to your hotel. At least the show runners had the decency to pay for everything.

taglist:

@iliketopgun @callsigns-haze @toxiqueamour @choppedgalaxynerd @luvrofdilfsandmilfs @y-nk-live @books4ever03 @hookslove1592 @ipowell-tyler @floydsglasses @blue-aconite @28cnn @iscience02

@senawashere @melidot @cevansbaby-dove @katiemcrae @twisterschaser @starsrfun @lovemmay @lyn-js @lynnestra44 @classyunknownlover @imaginesofdreams @horseslovers2016

@og-baby-ob14 @attastarkey @sehnsuchts-trunken @tngrace @rockandrollbuckarooo @natzp03 @havaneselover08 @callsignrambam @trustingmina @obsessed-fan-alert @siriuslysirius05

@goodoldfashionedunderdog @xsoultruthx @hotsauceeater @mae-murdock @kadygirl @zombiedixon89 @kamperzz @lokisvariant @nixlikestix8 @another-tblr-fangirl @wpdarlingpan @puttyly

[pomefioredove]

Hi hi! I have a request

Could I ask for romantic headcanons of dorm leaders(expect melleus) with a so whos melleus's younger sibling and when their on a date all they see is the disamona gang is spying on their date

AHHH help this is such a fun request!! diasomnia stakeout that lasts 5 minutes because sebek starts yelling the second he sees you holding hands with someone

summary: malleus' younger sibling type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

so we all agree that Riddle is probably the best choice? right?

as in, the least likely to get in trouble with the Diasomnia fam

Riddle, as a partner, is a perfect gentleman. won't even hold hands with you until a certain point in the relationship

(I mean, we're talking about Victorian England-level courting here)

out of everyone, he's the least likely to raise concern

...and yet.

it's probably Lilia that gets everyone worried

Riddle is a little... uptight for his tastes, after all, and Lils doesn't want you squandering your youth on rules and expectations

and so, he leads the great date stake-out

...for a completely inconspicuous mid-afternoon walk through the Heartslabyul rose gardens

you, of course, find all of them peeking at you from over a hedge almost right away

and just barely manage to shoo them off before Riddle sees and dies of embarrassment

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

GOOD LUCK

it's honestly a miracle that there even is a Leona Kingcholar left to date, rather than a pile of ashes on the ground

(Malleus is a terribly overprotective older brother)

...and he's quite convinced that Leona is dragging you around just to annoy him, specifically

so, what's he gonna do? not spy on you with the whole entourage?

he just needs to make sure you're okay, that's all

you, of course, knew that he didn't like the arrangement from the start, so you've already got an eye out on your dates

by the second or third, both you and Leona can tell you're being followed

...much to his annoyance

it takes a lot of "family meetings" with Lilia mediating before Malleus makes his peace with it

for now, anyway

so help him, if that oversized house cat hurts you...

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

everyone is... a little concerned that this is some kind of power play on Azul's behalf

Silver is probably the most worried, being in the same grade as him and knowing how tricky he can be

the original plan was to sit you down and express his concerns to you, and somehow that got turned into Lilia convincing everyone to wear fake mustaches and fedoras and spy on one of your dates in the lounge

(Malleus agrees because he thinks it's funny. Sebek agrees because Malleus does. poor Silver is powerless to stop it)

of course, you notice them right away

that's like... a given

besides the terrible disguises, Lilia and Malleus keep laughing and Sebek is white-knuckling the menu while trying to stay quiet

after that, you have a nice sit-down with everyone to discuss your personal boundaries

Silver gets his talk, after all :)

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦

Lilia's failed attempts at convincing everyone that Kalim is a totally great boyfriend (wingman of the year, everyone) obviously don't work well

listen, Kalim is great. it could be a lot worse!

but also, uh...

his life tends to be a little hectic

the last thing the Diasomnia fam needs is for you to get poisoned

...or assassinated in some other grotesque fashion

so, of course, they tag along to a few parties, some dinners here and there...

they get caught pretty quickly, but lucky for them, Kalim is a great host, and so he invites them to just. join the dates

(much to your horror)

Sebek and Silver argue about who's going to taste your food for poison first

which Lilia ends up doing, anyway

(even if it is poisoned, it won't have any effect on him. he might even like it more)

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

Vil is probably the second safest option on this list

...and, of course, he gets scoped out for the same reason number one does

Lilia considers him just... too strict. I mean, he's young! you're young! you shouldn't be acting like grown-ups, you should be frolicking

or whatever it is kids these days are doing

when the four follow you on one of your way-too-nice dates, Vil is the first to notice

he's definitely annoyed at first, but comes to find the situation really funny

it's like paparazzi, but if the paparazzi were your extremely strange found-family, who are also wearing fake mustaches and pretending to be tourists at the table behind you

he'll let it slide, just this once

...but maybe you'll have more indoors dates for a while

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝

Idia has already taken the necessary preventative measures

i.e., never actually going out for dates

if you want to eat something together, you can just come to his room for ramen and anime. what's so great about cafes and restaurants, anyway?

if you need some new scenery, he'll design a VR room for the two of you

it's pretty hard to spy on Idia- he's got a hell of a custom-coded security system on all of his devices

and besides that, Lilia was the one who set you two up in the first place. why would he be worried?

...okay, maybe the rest of the Diasomnia fam is a little concerned that you're dating someone who hasn't seen the sun in years

but you can handle yourself!

(he may still be receiving hundreds of very strongly worded and untitled emails from Sebek, though)

[starlightandfairies]

Ahhh your writing is just perfect! ❤️ I dare for another idea hehe 🫶🏼 just maybe something where you're dating but you get incredibly jealous as Katherine appears back in town and you know of their past. So you think it would be better to step back for a while but Elijah notices immediately and misses you as you not show up at any occurrence. He later finds you at the Grill, talking with the Salvatores about that topic and Elijah eavesdropped the whole conversation, finally realizing what's wrong with you and feeling bad for this to happen, as he only has eyes and feelings towards you. Then one night he invites you over to his house and tells you about his feelings and that you don't have to worry about Katherine as she's long forgotten to him and he proves that to you that night? ☺️ Ugh I love cute and fluffy Elijah !

Description: With Katherine back in town, knowing Elijah's past with Katherine brings some unwanted shades of jealousy to the reader. 

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you for both of your lovely requests! I hope you also enjoy this one and thank you as well for your kind words!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view, F/fs = favourite flowers

Word Count: 1,279

First Person's POV 

Elijah and I currently sat in my favourite café, it was normally very quiet and once again today was one of those days. Elijah stared at me with admiration, he held my hand softly in his, rested small kisses on my knuckles and whispered words of devotion. 

"I'm just going to run to the bathroom." Elijah nodded, resting another kiss on my hand and finally let me go off to the bathroom, I did what I needed to do and finally came back out. I stopped in my tracks, seeing a brunette talking to Elijah, he looked less than impressed, he looked pissed and I could only assume what that meant. 

"Katherine." I simply stated, choosing to sit beside Elijah instead of across from him, the woman forced a smile to her lips the resting bitch look not fading from her eyes. I could feel this twinge of hurt and jealousy invading my being. Katherine took it upon herself to sit down and join us, Elijah let go of my hand and the once gentle and tender look that decorated his features was long gone. 

"What was your name again...?" 

"Y/n" I answered, hating the way she stared at Elijah, I knew of their past as Elijah had been quite open about his past relationships. Katherine nodded, shrugging and turned her attention to Elijah. I grabbed my things, kissed his cheek and pushed myself up to leave. 

"Bonnie wanted me to do something, I'll see you later." Elijah nodded, staring at me for a moment, I walked out before anything could be said and made my way to Bonnie's house. I asked Bonnie to do a spell, something that would allow me to go under the radar and not be found by Elijah considering that I would be distancing myself from the love of my life to conceal the ugly green monster. 

I had been cancelling dates, vague answers over the phone and would leave quickly with some bullshit excuse if Elijah appeared out of the blue. I could tell he could sense something was, I didn't want to mention that something was wrong and he hadn't questioned my actions. 

Elijah's POV 

Something was wrong with Y/n I couldm't place my finger on what it was, I couldn't understand what had happened and why she decided to almost disappear. I was missing her dearly, I missed seeing her smile, I missed her silly little jokes and her ability to make all my world seem so much better against all the issues going down. I missed her little rambles she would go on, the point is that I miss her and I don't know how to bring her back to me. 

I had finally been able to catch the trail and follow her around, see if I could understand what was going on and it took me to the Grill. I stood near the bar, blending into the ground and proceeded to listen in on her conversation with the Salvatore brothers. 

"I know it's silly of me but I can't help but be jealous." 

"Come on, you know that the noble fossil wouldn't cheat on you." Damon remarked, a clear roll of the eyes that made Y/n whack him lightly. 

"I being serious Damon! I know he has history with Katherine, when he was human he loved Tatia and then he found Katherine. What if her coming back brings back the feelings? I can't stand the idea of him leaving me for her and I don't want that to happen."

"Y/n have you tried speaking with Elijah? You know he'd hear you out and he'll be respectful of what you're going through." I let out a breath, I clenched my eyes shut, hating in myself for not reading the signs. If I knew sooner I would've done everything in my power to reassure Y/n that the only person my heart sings for is her. 

"He's a 1000+ year old vampire, he has more important things than dealing with my petty feelings." 

"Y/n listen here. Elijah worships the ground you walk on, he wouldn't think any less of you for worring about Katherine. We all know what Katherine is like and you have every reason to be worrying about it." Damon's response seemed to freeze her in her place. 

"Thank you..." 

Four nights later, I invited Y/n to come over, I will admit I was surprised when she agreed. We journed to my bedroom, she placed herself on the bed, fiddled with her hands and I took this as an opportunity to shut down the feelings of doubt and jealousy. 

"Y/n the other night, I overheard you speaking to the Salvatores about what's been going on..." She buried her face in her  hands, looking ashamed and worried about what I could possibly say. I sat beside her, took her hand and cupped her face in my other hand to ensure she met my eyes. 

"I understand your worries completely. I understand and I want you to know, that Katherine does not matter to me. She hasn't for 500 years. All I care about is you, no one else matters to me, just you. I love you with all my heart, I love your smile and your little jokes. I love when you leave me a note with a little picture, I worship the ground you walk on and I will go to hell back to prove that I love you as much as I do. I am awfully sorry that you haven't felt as if you could speak to me and I feel awful that this happened. But please, my love... know that I would never ever dream of breaking your heart and leaving you alone. You have my word, I promise you that I won't let the devil of a woman try and break us apart because she is long forgetten." 

She took a few breaths, Y/n moved closer to me, rested a kiss upon my forehead and took a moment before finding the courage to speak. 

"I am sorry, I'm sorry that I didn't come to you, I'm sorry I didn't allow you to know what was going on. It was fair of me to shut you out when you haven't done anything to warrent it. Please forgive me." 

"There's nothing to apologise or forgive for. My love, let me prove to you my undying and everlasting love for you." Her shy little smile brought a smile to my lips, I cupped her face in my hands, bringing her in for a kiss and listened to her hum as I brought her into my arms for an embrace, Y/n took a moment to breathe and whispers softly into my ear. 

"i love you, Elijah. I love you more than you'll ever know." 

"I love you more my love." 

First Person's POV 

Late into the night, we lay in each other's arms, Elijah and I lay naked under the blankets. My headed rest on his chest, he took my hand away lying across him and brought my hand to rest a sweet and longing kiss against my palm. The action was enough to keep my smile stuck on my lips and it was enough for me to snuggle in closer to him with my hand resting in his and his tender eyes continuing to made me feel incredibly loved and devoted to. 

[gurugirl]

The Outlaw | biker!h | Only on Patreon

opposites attract | good girl/bad boy | strangers to lovers

Summary: Y/n is an innocent young woman struggling to get along in life. Harry's the leader of a group of an outlaw motorcycle club with a troubled past. When they meet, she can't help but feel an intense attraction toward the mysterious man, and as cute as she is, Harry thinks she's too sweet for him.

Short series only on Patreon -54k words, 4 parts, completed-

[894 word teaser ↓]

“Um, thank you, Harry. Really. You’ve been so… so helpful and kind,” she looked up at him, a genuine smile on her face. He made her feel excited and a bit light-headed as well. She was sure she was reading more into it than was there but the sudden interest he’d taken in her and the muffin comment from earlier made her knees feel jittery and her pulse pick up.

He nodded, his eyes soft on her face, “Just wanted to help. Wouldn’t have just left you there on the side of the road with a flat tire like that.”

She pushed a breathy laugh out, “I would have figured it out. I always do.”

His eyes moved over her arms and down to her hands where he knocked at her knuckle with his, “You okay? Shaking a little.”

“Oh,” she looked down at her hand and shrugged, “I’m fine,” balling her hands up she shifted on her legs, “Just…”

Harry flattened his lips and raised his brows at her as she tried to find the rest of her sentence, “Just what? Surely you’re not cold.”

No. She wasn’t cold. It was hot and humid out despite the late hour. In fact she was sweating just the slightest under her arms. Sweating and shaking like an idiot. He probably thought she was on drugs.

“No. It’s uh…” she swallowed and smiled, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

His unrelenting scrutiny only made her heart pound harder which made it difficult for her to stop the way her body was shivering under his gaze. He was too handsome and he was standing at her door at 3 in the morning looking like someone who could hurt her but she knew he wouldn’t. Her brain was coming up with some very unwholesome thoughts about the man she hardly knew. The whole thing had her in a tizzy. Images of him unlocking her door with his irises searing into hers and pushing her into her apartment and having his way with her. Whatever he wanted.

The edge of a smile crooked up on his mouth as he licked lips, “All right then. If you say so. Sure you don’t need anything?” It was like he could read her thoughts.

Yes. I have a few things in mind that I need right now. All of them include you and your hands and your tattooed arms and those pink lips…

“No. I’m good. Probably just tired.”

He squinted down at her, as if he didn’t believe her words, “Probably. Well, you’ve got my number. Please use it if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded, “Yes. I will. Thank you.”

He smirked as he squeezed her arm, “You’re welcome, muffin.”

.   .   .

Harry knew better than to get involved with an innocent girl like Y/n. She was too sweet. Not for him. She deserved a nice guy with a boring job. Someone who’d treat her right and not break her heart. Someone reliable. Harry’d just destroy her sweetness and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Though, he could admit she was pretty. Really pretty. He’d thought so since the day he walked into the shop to get his sparkplugs replaced. Thought she was an awfully cute, nervous little thing. And then when he saw her in her diner uniform… well that fit her rather nicely he thought. It was quite the contrast from the frumpy getup she had on at the shop. Which pushed his opinion of her being cute into naively sexy. She really had no idea. And something about that was alluring to him. She was refreshing.

The other thing that had him all worked up over her was seeing her little panties when she spread her legs to climb up onto the seat behind him on his motorcycle. He helped steady her and he watched as the material of her dress slid up her thigh, revealing a pretty stretch of skin and he had the perfect view of what she had on underneath. Between her soft inner thighs, she donned a cute pair of panties that thankfully covered everything. And even with all her bits covered, the peek of her underwear doused his body in wanton heat. He couldn’t get over the little muffin pattern. Terribly cute. So innocent. So sweet. And she was like a muffin in that way, so it was a perfect name for her.

Harry had no shame. He called her muffin to get a rise out of her. He wanted to see her reaction. Didn’t know if she’d figure it out or not but he was compelled to say it anyway. Muffin. And her stunned face didn’t disappoint. She parted her lips and blinked her eyes in silence as he winked and then left her standing there in front of the diner.

But that was as far as it could ever go. She didn’t want a man like him and he couldn’t possibly think she’d be a fit for him in any way.

And not only that, but there was also something so sad and fraught about her. Someone had damaged her and she needed healing. Not Harry. Harry would only make it worse, whatever it was. He was curious, certainly. He’d like to hurt anyone who’d ever made her suffer or cry. But that was all he could offer her.

. .

All 4 parts on Patreon! If you'd like more consider joining!

xoxo

[izzystizzys]

Half the jobs Fox is sent on are not within his jurisdiction. This certainly isn’t.

Planetary protection unit, they said. Military police. Orbital security force.

And now Fox is being pointed at Count Dooku on some backwater planet and told to fetch. How the mighty have fallen.

He’s pretty sure Kenobi, Skywalker and their units could’ve karked this all up perfectly fine on their lonesome; they don’t need three Guardsmen there to watch them do it. But the Chancellor says jump and Fox surpressed the urge to bash his head in with a durasteel chair. So it goes.

Which is when things start going terribly, terribly wrong, of course.

“Is that Spinder?!”, Skywalker exclaims, arms wheeling out in the air wildly to try and catch his balance. “The Count fucks?!”

Across the room, Cody rips his helmet off, several shades redder than a baseline human should be. “The Count fucks my brother?!”

Two lightsticks hover uselessly in the air, Skywalker’s zig-zagging in a relentless hum with his gesturing. Fox stands stock-still, in the hope that maybe he’ll spontaneously turn invisible if he does. Around them, 501st and 212th troopers gape through helmets. Behind him, Nuisance gasps for air amidst screaming laughter.

Ping, went Fox’s comm unit, in that unmistakeable lascivious jingle sound. Ping, answered Count Dooku’s within a split second. Match found close by.

For a moment, Fox considers what it would be like to run at the Count’s lightsaber at full speed.

…not like that.

“Count”, Kenobi says, with a face like he’s bitten into a rotten fruit. Not that Fox knows what fruit tastes like. “This is a highly… unexpected development.” He fwoosh-es his lightsaber shut, obviously having given up on fighting. “I’d call it a conflict of interest, but I’m not sure that applies?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be a conflict of something, for sure”, Cody hisses, fists clenched at his sides. He looks about ready to boil over, with Crys and Waxer inching closer in preparation. “What have you done to my brother, you monster?!”

“I don’t think you want to know that, Commander”, Nuisance gasps out between barks of laughter, proving why he’s eternally Fox’s least favourite. Cody’s splotchy red complexion slowly fades into ghostly white as a sheen of horror settles over the room. “Thanks for the fancy chocolate bouquet last week, Count!”

Dooku, who has been thus far staring at the floor with an empty thousand-klick stare, looks up at that. Fox has seldom seen a man that defeated outside of the mirror, he has to admit - but shudders when he remembers exactly what the chocolates were for.

Oh Force, he’s sexted Count Dooku into buying him gifts. Does that make him a Seppie spy? Traitor by proxy?

“I feel”, says the Count, gravely, still holding his long red laserknife in a white-knuckled death-grip, “that I have been taken for a fool.”

“Uh”, says Fox, nervously. All eyes snap to him. Oh Force, oh Force, oh Force. They’re going to invent a whole new kind of decommissioning for this and name it after Fox.

“Is it really scamming if you actually get what you pay for?”, asks Grids, considering. Fox slowly pulls off his helmet just for the comforting feeling of burying his head in his gloved palms. The sounds of a struggle ensue, and Kenobi makes a choked-off noise. Maybe if he’s embarrassed enough he’ll give himself an aneurysm.

“Grandmaster, why are you paying people for naked pictures of themselves on the holonet?!” Kenobi asks, despairingly. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“Oi, no one said I was naked!”, Fox exclaims, head whipping up.

“So naked”, Nuisance laughs, palm thumping against the floor. He might be crying.

“I’m not decrepit”, the Count blusters, and Skywalker makes a gagging noise. “I have - there are needs, and they are perfectly natural!” It takes three troopers to restrain Cody from launching himself at the Count.

[kyeomszone]

motive ○ lee dokyeom

tags. exes to ??. ex-fwb. hate sex (started off atleast, these bitches are idiots). fingering. rough sex. penetrative sex (vaginal). degradation. objectification. unresolved romantic tension.

synopsis. there aren't a lot of things that can get the Lee Seokmin angry. He's seen a lot in his career as the district attorney, has lived through a lot but goddammit did you know how to get under his skin better and faster than anyone with the infuriating smirk of yours.

series masterlist.

If someone were to ask about what sort of person Lee Seokmin is, the first thing that would pop up in people’s heads is kind or a saint or some other iteration of it.

The man had built his career from these very acts, pro bono cases ( despite being very broke straight out of university ) to tackling big public figures━ politicians, businessmen and women, none were safe from Lee Seokmin and his silver tongue━ to now, having been elected the district attorney, the youngest in the country’s history.

You call bullshit.

The Lee Seokmin you know is all teeth, bruising grip and unforgiving mouth.

You remember the man as clear as day, even though it has been almost half a decade since the two of you last crossed paths━ a hurried conversation, the crack in your heart, the coldness in his eyes-

You remember the man, the way he spun arguments in his favour no matter how bad the odds were, the way he brought the room’s attention to himself so irrevocably, so effortlessly with that bright smile of his, the very same smile that turned sharp and sharklike behind closed door, having you shaking in your knees and your cheeks stained with tears as he denied you the high.

He was kind yes, but not a saint.

Lee Seokmin was the farthest thing from a saint.

Maybe that was why wherever you get the chance, you try to get under his skin and show the world the cruel thing that lay behind their saint. That this-this whole kindness, this love, this care that he shows are all a carefully done facade.

So, you were on the witness stand, repeating the oath as a smirk played on your lips with your eyes not leaving Seokmin’s form. He looked tense, jaw clenched, knuckles white and eyebrows set.

The man looked far tenser than he did when had introduced the case, a hard look on his face but eyes still infuriatingly kind, the opening a carefully curated string of words that had the audience━ judge, jury, defendant, everyone entranced, the words spoken in that soft, sweet voice of his already swaying the jury.

The case had been against one of your former business partners, you having been brought in as a witness or said man to use against Seokmin’s arguments and even though the man you had worked with could be described as scum, you played up the act. Doing your part to convince the jury that the accusations were baseless and the prosecution was simply trying to bring down a good man (and if you threw in jabs against Seokmin in between your words, well that was between you and him).

Which brought you this very moment━ you sitting in one of your office chairs after hours, the plush material soft against your back as you lift the glass of bourbon to your lips, the smile on your lips smug as you stare down Seokmin, the glass you had offered him sitting untouched.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for humiliation,” Your words are sharp as they fall from your lips, mocking. “You think you know a person.”

Seokmin doesn’t rise to the bait, instead, he looks at you, something angry, something resigned in his gaze that makes your skin itch. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why?” Seokmin repeats himself, a sigh falling from his lips as he finally picks up the glass of alcohol, staring at the amber liquid. “Why go out of your way to defend him?”

You scoff at his audacity to question you after everything he has done. “What do you mean, why? He’s my business partner, we worked together and I━”

“Bullshit.” Seokmin snaps, his eyes hard as he glares at you, his grip on the glass now white-knuckled. “That's bullshit and we both know that. He is a murd━”

“You don’t know me Lee Seokmin,” You interrupt him, setting the glass with a hard clang as you narrow your eyes at him. “So don’t barge your way in here and give me a fucking lecture on morality.”

“You're right,” Seokmin sighs, taking a large gulp of bourbon and your eyes can’t help but trace the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I don’t know you, the version of you that I knew is-is gone and...” a sharp laugh falls from his lips as he sets the glass back down. His eyes turn cold, lips twisting into a cruel little smile as he tilts his head. “What’s left of you is an empty shell filled with nothing but greed and━”

You are out of your chair before he finishes speaking, pushing his shoulders harshly as you glare down at him. Your breath comes out in harsh pants, jaw clenched and nails digging into the muscle of his shoulder, “Fuck you.”

Seokmin stares back, his eyes not leaving yours and he keeps staring and staring and━

His lips find themselves on your, hand cradling your jaw as the other tangles with your hair. You freeze for a minute, eyes wide at the unexpected course of action and it takes a minute for your brain to reboot before you find yourself kissing him back, your tongue licking across his seam, his tongue tangling with yours, mapping your mouth.

He stands up, lips still moving against yours as he gently pushes your backwards until the small of your back hits the desk, his body pressing against yours and━ fuck, you hate how this has your hold body burning, heat settling in your bones and turning you to putty.

He pulls away, panting as his forehead rests against yours. His grip on your jaw doesn’t loosen, neither does his hold on your hair and it sends a jolt of pleasure down your spine.

“Seokmin,” You breathe out, eyes on his face, the sharp contours of his face, the slope of his jaw, the moles shattered on his cheeks, all of which as like familiar in a way a book you had read years ago is. “Seokmin what━”

“Shut up,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips, pulling them back in and in one fell swoop, he has you lifted onto your desk, settling in between your legs and the casual display of strength has wetness pooling in your panties. You knew Seokmin had filled out, the muscles on his body no longer lithe the way it had been in university━ not from the way his shirts and suits hugged his body, almost tearing at the seams due to the stretch with each contraction.

His hand trails down from your hair, moving down until they’re at the buttons of your shirt, fingers undoing them and pulling it off, the fabric pooling near your hips and your shiver as the cold air of room brushes against your skin. Your grip on his shirt tightens, the fabric crinkling as you try to bring him closer than he already is, seeking out the wet heat of his mouth with a fervent need.

He pulls away for a second, breathing harshly, “Do you want to stop?”

You stare at him, the words taking a moment to skin in and when they do, you shake your head, “No,” the word falls off your lips without a beat of hesitation.

“Still the slut I know.” The words fall off Seokmin’s lips accompanied by a small laugh, a deeper, darker sort of under that makes molten heat course through your veins despite the humiliation that burns in you. “Maybe not everything has changed.”

You ignore the way his words sound wistful by the end, tugging him back down to meet your mouth, moaning at the way he bites your bottom lips, thighs pushing against your core. A beat later, his mouth starts trailing down, from your lips to your jaw, biting and licking and tugging at the skin of your jaw to your neck to your shoulder and then down to your tits.

One of his hands moves to unhook your bra while the other moves the garment. His mouth settles on one of the nubs, the teeth sinking into the flesh sending a flash of pleasure that has you gasping, back arching as you push yourself more onto him. His hand cups the other breast, fingers digging into the soft mound and as he tugs and tugs the abused nipple before moving onto the other.

All the while you’ve turned into a mess of pants and moans, your eyes rolling the the back of your head as Seokmin works his way through your body, taking you as he pleases, however he wants, wherever he wants━ uncaring of what you have to say.

It makes you feel like an object to use for his pleasure.

It makes your core throb.

“Pretty,” Seokmin mumbles against your skin, his breath warm and making you shiver. “My pretty girl.”

You burn at the praise, at being called his and you hate how it makes you feel.

“Fuck me already,” You snap instead, distracting yourself from whatever's starting to take root in you.

Seokmin’s eyes snap up to yours, eyebrows scrunching as he takes in a sharp breath. His hand trailed from your waist to your neck, fingers curling around the base of it and giving a light squeeze, making your breath hitch. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” He grits out, his words sharp and syllables coated in warning. “Behave.”

You swallow and nod. “Okay,” your next breath is shaky as you look at him. He stares at you for a second, before nodding.

“Be a good girl for me, baby,” Seokmin says, kissing you again as his hands start moving down. He unbuckles your belt, undoing the button and taking off your pants and underwear together, dropping them to the floor.

“So wet for me,” Seokmin mumbles, running a finger through your fold, wetness gathering on his finger making you moan, his mouth swallowing the sound. Two fingers slip into your hole easily, Seokmin groaning at the smooth motion and the subsequent tightening around the digits. His thumb settles against your cilt, rubbing circles as he starts fucking you rough and fast with his fingers.

He pulls away from you slightly, lips a breath away as he says: “How many times can I make you cum before you start sobbing?” He grins against your lips as you can only reply with a moan. “I remember it being four before you started whriting and sobbing as you begged me to stop.”

“Seok━” You gasp out as he presses against your cilt harder, your whole body tensing as you get closer and closer to the edge, your whole body tight as a coil.

“Has it gone back to one?” Seokmin keeps the conversation going nonchalantly as if you weren’t seconds away from crumbling to the ground. “No one’s been able to fuck you as well as I did to keep up?”

The coil in you snaps, as you clench around his fingers, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a long, drawn-out moan; your orgasm washing over you.

“One.” Seokmin counts, his thumb still working away at your cilt and your body starts to tighten again, limbs locking up and you’re sure the only reason you're still upright is due to the hold Seokmin has on you. His fingers still piston in and out of you and within a few breaths you’re being pushed to the edge again, body coiling and coiling and━

“Seokmin,” You can’t help but sob out when the second orgasm washes over you and Seokmin still keeps going, thumb working and working and working away at your cilt. “Can’t, please, Seok━ Seokmin.”

Seokmin stops, his fingers pulling out as he ticks an eyebrow, “Just two?”

You take in a shaky breath, your whole body shuddering as you nod. “I... I’m sorry,” you find yourself saying, despite the embarrassment stelling into your bones━ you don’t even know why.

“It’s okay, baby.” He presses a sweet kiss to your lips, soft and warm and a complete juxtaposition to his demeanour a beat ago. “You did good, sweetheart.”

You find yourself nodding, letting him completely overwhelm your senses. His hands caging your body, clothed thigh pressed against your dripping core, mouth moving against yours, soft, wet warm and grounding.

“Lay back,” Seokmin orders softly once he pulls away and you do, your back settling on the cool surface of the glass as you hear the buckle of his belt hit the floor. A moan falls from your lips as you feel his head against your folds, moving to collect the wetness on the dull nub. Your whole body arches, mouth falling open as he pushes in, the thick length of his stretches you to your absolute limits, and despite the wetness from his ministrations and two orgasms, it still takes a bit of effort to fully seath himself inside.

Good god, you’d forgotten how big he was.

No wonder anyone who came after could never fully make you feel half of what he did.

“Fuck,” Seokmin pants, his body leaning over yours, “My perfect little toy,” Seokmin moans out as he starts moving, a slow drag followed by a snap that has you arching. With each thrust, he picks up his pace, playing with your cilt every once in a while to bring you closer to your orgasm as he fucks you fast and rough and hard enough to leave you aching for days.

Your body is putty by the time his pace grows erratic, hips snapping against yours as he fucks you, pistoning in and out and in and you feel your body tightening, his own breaths coming out sharp and short and a few thrusts later, you're coming around his cock, tightening around his thick girth and that seems to push him over the edge as well as he quickly pulls out and paints your stomach white.

It takes a minute for you to catch your breath, your senses slowly rewriting itself from having been fried. You push yourself to sit up despite the exhaustion settling in your body as you stare at Seokmin, hair damp from sweat, skin flushed with the effect of sex and he looks just as breathtaking as the first day you saw him.

A heaviness settles in your chest the longer you look.

You missed him.

You hate yourself for thinking that.

note. i have a part two for it that is more plot than smut, so lemme know if anyone's interested

[hotchfiles]

↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ❞

pairing: hotchner x fem!reader. summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like. content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean. word count: 2.4K

      Aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. He sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. He hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. He knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing. 

      “Honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” His voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue. 

      You turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break. 

      “No, babe, why d’you ask?” 

      “You’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on Ritalin yet lately.” His explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. His smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that. 

      Aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless. 

      “I haven’t told them about the engagement yet. I want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” You sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “Difficult.” 

      Aaron knows what difficult really means. It means patronizing. It means unsupportive. Unwilling. Unhelpful. It doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “We could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” He suggests, always the problem solver. 

      “It would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” Your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand. 

      Hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “And my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” You nod quietly. “Alright. Don’t call. Text her inviting them over with the details. Less talking.” 

      You groan, “She will complain about that too…”

      “Once they’re here.” He kisses your forehead, “So it’s only one,” and your nose, “Night,” your right cheek, “Of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “Complaining.” Aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.

      You get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiancé, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. His hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.

      He made it easier, always. Helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. It was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to Jack and see how it should be.

      More often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not Aaron.

      You talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to Jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: Jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something Aaron would let happen, he didn’t want Jack to go through what he had as a child.

      Then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too. 

      You try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on Aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.

      Your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home. 

      So first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, Aaron’s idea, of course. 

      “He always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” You mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and Aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.

      You can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “Even Rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. Just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” You snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.

      Gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.

      Hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly,  secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.

      Most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey I love you right in his ear as if you were there.

      It pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… You.  

      Hotch excused himself from the call to talk to Rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get Rossi’s sauce recipe. 

      “Hers is great, why does she need mine?” Rossi sound almost exasperated, as if Hotch himself had said something about your cooking. He is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, Dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “Anything else?”

      “I need a favor as well. I’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” Hotch begins, he knows Rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the Bureau agreed he needed time off. “I know myself enough, I need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” He’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, Aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it. 

      His left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. It was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? In the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him. 

      You were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home. 

      That day he got home late, Jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next Friday off. 

      His office had become a shared office with your help, a U shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave Jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.

      The sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and Jack sat, focused, it gave Hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.

      “I’m not sure about that one, Jack-Jack…” You stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “If I Google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” Aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: Caught in the act. 

      “No Google, buddy, sorry.” Jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice. 

      “Told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—” You tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.

      His smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on Aaron’s watch getting to Jack’s eyes, “I’m sleepy.” 

      “You can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.” 

      Hotch picks Jack up and the young Hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention. 

      “Enjoy while you can, Jack-Jack, your old man is not getting any younger.” 

      “Yeah? I’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” You and Jack both laugh at him. It’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly. 

      It was warm. And kind. Even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. It was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to. 

      It takes a few minutes for Hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “I’m just finishing this up, babyy—” Your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “Go eat your dinner while I do it, I heated it up when I got your text!”

      He stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: Sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown. 

      Aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. He traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.

      “I love you. I love our little family.” He kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can even tell him the two Hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.

      You don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. Aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.

      The second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, Aaron replies with a simple “If anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” A squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.

      They seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. You’re forgetful. You’re not maternal. You worry about work too much.

      You’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—Aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. He’s trying to be polite. “We take care of each other well, and together we care for Jack. It works. We work.”

      It’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.

      He wants to show them drawings Jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family. 

      But for now he settles on being polite. There’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. He has time to do all that. Right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you. 

      At least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.

      He snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 and Kisses

~ enjoy :3 ~

Julian

Kissing him is never unemotional

Heated moments aside, Julian gives you both planned and unplanned kisses. Depending on the mood and context, how that feels and how that progresses can change drastically

He loves "occasion" kisses, tiny little pauses of the day's etiquette where he gets to swoop in and leave a peck on your cheek. Hello kisses, goodbye kisses, thanks-for-checking-on-me-at-2-AM-because-I'm-still-awake-from-thinking-too-much kisses ...

... though that last kind is less likely to be on the cheek, and more likely to be the most tired, grateful "thank you" you've ever heard, whispered against your lips as he trails after your touch

Unplanned kisses happen whenever someone says or does something that reminds him of what you mean to him. Between his scholar's brain and bleeding heart is a vast sea of sentiment

Maybe it's seeing one of the South End vendors, stooped with age, quietly lighting up as their equally weathered partner walks by on the other side of the canal and blows them a cheeky smooch

He never thought he'd live long enough to look like that, but now all he can think about is how he can't wait to be that with you

Then he's making good use of that massive coat of his, catching up to you in two long strides, pulling you into one of those all-encompassing hugs before he swoops the cape of it between you and prying eyes so he can pour his soul into a heartfelt kiss

Asra

Never the same and always the same, somehow

They don't care to be publicly vulnerable, so you're not going to get any lingering kisses in the street, or the market, or the tavern

But considering the extent to which his love for you has completely consumed him, he can't not express affection for you

And besides, they've never been conventional. Why limit themself to your face when you've got a whole body?

Unexpected kisses peppered across your knuckles when you hold hands. A subtle peck to the pulse point below your ear when he leans in to whisper something to you. The briefest brush of his lips against the back of your shoulder as you stand and wait together

All this without ever expecting anything in return - doing anything similarly sweet and subtle back will result in a blushing, stumbling, zoned-out magician and a laughing snake

Privately, kisses aren't about a heated moment (though they have been known to play into them, when you were interested ...)

They're about savoring you, lingering on the gift of your warm, living presence, delighting in their chance to luxuriate in finally expressing every ounce of devoted adoration for you

For someone as playful and creative as he is, every moment your mouths meet is a little different, a little new, that childlike curiosity excited to find yet another way to feel you

All while that loyal, bone-deep love feels like coming home

Nadia

Kissing her feels like you're being blessed

Getting kissed in public is almost always a statement of some kind. Each brush of her lips against your skin carries the weight of an important message

Anything from a kiss to your wrist, telling you that you handled a tricky situation well, to a firm kiss on your mouth, telling everyone around you that you are her most important person

It could be easy to feel you're just another face orbiting her, with how naturally she commands the attention of a room and takes charge of any situation and brings it into line

But when every moment of contact is designed to honor you, to credit you with the leader she's become, you may find that not sharing the spotlight with her is almost impossible

In private, kisses are raw and unrefined

They're still purposeful, but there's no grand painting to be a part of. The woman next to you is not the Countess, but the person who trusts you wholeheartedly and expects no less in return

Dizzying intensity, feeling every emotion freely expressed against your lips, watching her thoughts flit across her open, unguarded face. She desires vulnerability and abandons ceremony in her rush to be close to you. If there's no walls between you, why hold back?

Being the sole focus of such a powerful, regal person feels a bit like taking the concentrated power of the sun. Except it's Nadia, and her neverending need to saturate you with her love

Muriel

Kisses with him are tender

Halting and awkward, at first, and a little lost as he gets his practice, and much more involved and intense as time goes on, but never lacking in gentleness and consideration

You can count the amount of times he's kissed you in public on one hand. He is not into PDA by a long shot

Luckily for you, you two live in the woods. Being in public requires planning ahead. Being in private is another normal day

Casual kisses take time. They're never thoughtless, instead being something you receive in a split second after about ten minutes of intense mental planning and preparation on his part

Over time, you find it's easier for him to give you casual kisses with his fingertips - brushing your cheek gently, pressing one finger to his own lips before lightly tapping it to your nose

He has accidentally kissed your nose when he was aiming for your mouth multiple times now. The only way to convince him to get past it and keep initiating kisses was to make it an inside joke

Kisses for him are a way to reaffirm every silent promise he's made you. Whether it be his commitment to sticking life out with you, to healing, to growing, to protecting, to nurturing with you

To him, it's the weighty comfort of building a new home and family with you. To you, it's safety and trust and security and gentleness beyond imagining. Not the most heated, but always warm

Portia

Kissing her is like bubbling over

She loves fiercely and without restraint. If you're hers and she's yours, there is no reason to hold back

Kisses are her extension of general physical affection. She'll stand with her arm around you, nuzzling into your cheek as she teases you in conversation and planting a kiss there while she's at it

She's also so openly affectionate towards anyone she cares about that there's next to no room for anybody to feel awkward

If it's in reach and she's happy you're with her for the hundredth time that day, she's kissing it. Shoulders, arms, hands, elbows, nose, cheeks, hair - there are very few limits

Kisses in private don't get outrageously creative, but they take on a whole host of meanings for someone as expressive as she is

Frustrated kisses when she feels like she's failed, excited kisses when she's got a new idea, flirtatious kisses that make you feel those new couple butterflies after decades of life together

"You're irresistible with flour in your hair" kisses, scattered all across your face in her sunlit kitchen before she pulls you in for something longer and deeper and sweeter

"You make life feel like a storybook" kisses, full of suspended disbelief and excited giggles and romantic embraces

"You make me the main character of my story" kisses, lingering long as she holds you to her chest and savors your companionship

Lucio

Kissing him is an adventure

He wasn't used to kisses meaning much more than a good time. At least, not before you. By the time he met you, the ability to feel warmth and basic touch was overwhelmingly precious

As easy at it is for casual affection to be simply casual for him, it's never unappreciated, and certainly not taken for granted

Has no issues with PDA. If he wants a kiss, and you want a kiss, then it's time to enjoy a kiss. Anybody who has a problem with it is free to look in any other direction (though he's not thinking that far)

From moment to moment, they're the added spice to a good life. Sudden, rushed, sloppy kisses on the road just because he can, and because he's about to disregard that "no trespassing" sign

In quieter moments, kisses become so precious that each one feels like a polished gemstone falling into your lap

He's been starving all his life for a true connection, for a reliable affection that tells him it's safe to believe you when you tell him that you love him. He may act entitled, but he's not oblivious

Holding such a rollercoaster of a man while he loses both himself and all of his emotions in the safety of your kisses is enough to get you a little lost too, if you let yourself get drawn in

As much as he might grandstand and monologue as he puts all that leadership charisma into charming you, the moment you hold his face in your hands, he's clinging to your soul and offering his own in return. Through his mouth. Into your mouth. Again, please -

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

surprises | zoro drabble (18+)

18+ POST SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

zoro eating you out but he's much more skilled than you initially thought ♡

warnings: cunnilingus, some making out, degradation if you squint, afab reader!, this is mostly for anime zoro but this is up for interpretation tbh lmao, doesn't slap you around directly but kind of slaps your pussy LMAO

"lay down. on your back." zoro grumbles as he hooks his thumbs under the backs of your knees. your eyebrows raise in surprise as you nod softly. you were used to him wanting to get straight to the point, foreplay normally not lasting very long but now he was very nonchalantly about to eat you out; not that zoro didn't always have a face that was a mix between disinterest and annoyance, save for when he was looking at you like he was going to devour you whole. like right about now. your back arches slightly in anticipation when you see zoro's head in between your legs, acutely aware that he's never actually been as close to you as he is now. you let out a small gasp of surprise when his thumb brushes your clit, gently rubbing over it; the mix of his breath so close to where you want him and the pressure of his thumb sent goosebumps over your body.

he doesn't even warn you before his lips meet your pussy, your jaw dropping open in a mix of shock and pleasure. "ooh, fuck.." is all you can manage when his tongue presses against your clit and stays there for a minute, your hand instantly going for his hair and pulling on it as you try to ground yourself. he looks up at you with those same eyes, those eyes that finally show something other than being annoyed; he looks like he could eat you and he is. he doesn't take his eyes off you as he moves away a bit to let his tongue drag against all of you, making your head tip back as your hips stutter against him. you can barely lift them all the way with the way he has one of his arms wrapped. even still, you try to squirm out of his grip, soft whines of protest and pleasure leaving you when his mouth completely envelopes you and his tongue eagerly pushes into you.

zoro grunts as he pulls you impossibly closer to him, hips flush against his lips and chin as his brows furrow up at you; he was clearly not in agreement with your attempts to get away. "t-too much.." you whine, making him pull away to catch his breath. "since when is a-anything too much for you?" he says with a hint of a smirk, a look that would normally make you shove him away. you'd sooner die than feel him any farther way than he is now. "always so wet for me.." he grumbles under his breath, leaning down every so often to leave a wet kiss on your clit that makes you hiss through clenched teeth every time he pulls away. you yelp when he leaves a quick slap against your pussy before diving back in again, this time holding the backs of your hips in an almost bruising grip. your breath comes out less steadily as you feel the warmth in the pit of your stomach grow almost unbearable, your legs shaking around zoro's head; with the way he hasn't stopped, you can tell zoro isn't going to let you down so easy.

you start gasp out zoro's name like a mantra, one hand threading through his hair and the other balling up the sheets underneath you until your knuckles turn white. he only lets out a soft moan when you're finally unable to control yourself, your back arching off the bed as you push his mouth up against you and let out a long string of moans. your chest rises and falls hard when you've finally come down from your orgasm, eyes fluttering closed when zoro finally pulls away. before you can even think, his lips meet yours, eagerly kissing him back at the taste of yourself on his tongue. your legs haven't even regained feeling by the time he's tossing them over his shoulders and starting to stroke himself.

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THAT ONE AS MUCH AS MY SANJI ONE LOL that one is close to 1010 notes and its INSANE