#short fic!!

[redjademilktea]

I've had this draft sitting around for a few months, but Marisha saying Laudna wants a "simple cottage core lesbian life" with Imogen in the lasted 4 Sided Dive made me want to go back and polish this up a bit!! For context, my partner asked me to write something small and imodna related with the word "baking" as a prompt. Just a quick writing exercise as a break from dissertation work. So I came up with this!!

----

"Okay one egg or two?"

"Two. And remember to add them in with the rest of the wet ingredients, not with the dry."

"You're supposed to separate- shit."

Imogen looked at the mess of ingredients, cooking utensils, and mixing bowls sprawled out on the counter in front of her. She didn't think learning this particular recipe would be walk in the park, per se. But she certainly didn't expect... well this - standing here with Laudna in their little cottage kitchen with the remnants of three (soon to be four) attempts at making a passable cookie batter splattered across various surfaces. "Start me off with somethin' easy," she had said when agreeing to baking lessons earlier in the day, "you really liked those cookies that Lord Eshertoss would bake for us, right? We can start with those." She let out a sigh at the memory.

Laudna now stood behind Imogen, peering over her shoulder at her... creation.

"Oh, you might be able to- hmmm." Laudna said as she tested the batter's flavor with her pinky. Suddenly, her eyes went wide as *something* seemed to hit her. Imogen cringed slightly as she awaited the verdict.

"Imogen, darling, you did add two *teaspoons* of vanilla, not tablespoons, correct?"

"Is there a difference?"

"A bit of one, yes," Laudna said with a low chuckle.

"Sorry Laudna," Imogen sighed. She moved to rub her eyes before quickly realizing her damn hands - just like everything else in the kitchen, really - were coated in that sad excuse for a cookie batter. She frustratedly began Prestidigitationing them clean before pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to quell an oncoming headache. Before she could get too anxious about the prospect of starting over *one more fucking time*, she felt thin arms wrap around her from behind.

"Imogen, darling, it's alright," Laudna hummed, "I always felt Eshteross was too, well, *extravagant* with his recipe writing. It can make it hard to follow at times." Laudna gestured with one of her hands wildly to emphasize the point in a way that Imogen couldn't help but smile at. "Honestly, do we really need to know what he was eating for breakfast or what life lessons his mother taught him as a child right before telling us to brown the butter?"

"You criticizin' his recipe writing, Laudna?" Imogen asked, already feeling the tension behind her eyes melting away.

"Well, yes, but I don't think he's open to any feedback at the moment."

Imogen let out a small gasp before turning her head to meet Laudna's eyes. "Laudna!" Imogen gave her a stern look in an attempt at mock consternation, but quickly relented into a fond gaze as soon as she caught sight of the way Laudna was leaning her head onto Imogen's shoulder.

"Well all I'm saying is, I love a good set of flowery prose, but there's a time and place. And a recipe certainly isn't the place! Besides, I've always said you were *very* capable. If it's giving you trouble, the recipe is obviously worded poorly!"

Imogen laughed more fully this time. Gods, Laudna could make her feel better about anything, even if it meant defending her honor and recipe following abilities to a dead man. She took a deep breath, taking in the subtle, earthy smell of fallen leaves to help ground her. She opened her eyes to Laudna's warm grin before planting a soft kiss on her lips.

"Thanks baby. Alright, one more time from the top okay with you?"

"Of course darling, just remind me to pick up more eggs from the market tomorrow. We may need to... restock soon."

[nenoname]

hunting down a specific image but finding miscellaneous storyboards/some cut panels from the stan comic story instead

[velvetwyrme]

aHhh okay so the discussions of Titan!Megatron on @callsign-relic's blog have fully. FULLY taken over my brain and ive been drawing stuff for it for like the last few days nonstop

the tl;dr of this is AU is pretty much "what if Megatron got turned into a titan/cityformer as a form of penance/imprisonment and now roams the empty wasteland of Cybertron forever" plus "IDW Megatron has really fucked up internals so... what if that, but as a City?"

and of course since he's a Titan, that also means he has a cityspeaker... or three. One per sub-AU thing. Theres 3 options. 3 flavours of AU.

i have so much art to make. but in the meantime, for more info! check out the #titan au tag on Relic's blog :]!! (also uhh potential ns//fw warning for the link shfjbdkd)

Hi. My battery is running out once again so design and art notes get chucked here instead of an image.

The cuffs and collar are hardwired into Megatron, so I made the lights the same colour as his biolights!

I imagine that on the tops of his shoulders there are solar panels, even if you can't see them here lol.

I really wanted to keep the swirly bits on Megatron's chest from IDW

Other art notes:

The second picture with the seekers is (loosely) inspired by a discussion about whether or not Megatron gets visitors or not. I thought about who would visit him and well... I think this is as close as Starscream realistically gets to visiting him.

Extra detail about that piece is that Thundercracker and Skywarp are keeping watch from above! Also drawing Megatron took me like 8 hours because I was struggling with his legs really badly kshffkbfkdsbdk,, the background went much faster, funnily enough.

Optimus specifically isn't wearing his Autobot badge any more.

This isn't relevant in this series of images, but Ultra Magnus's eye markings are only on the Magnus armour. His other two forms do not have them :] (... until he begins to discard the armour, that is.)

Megatron is roughly 3200m/2 miles tall. Technically he could have clouds around his knees, but I thought this looked a little bit cooler lol.

Also, height chart! Him big. I didn't even attempt to put a human for scale because that'd be. near impossible with this scale.

[reidiot]

don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude

[disgustingtwitches]

Kyle, that evil fucker, mirrors every reaction you make.

He's got your knees pushed back as far as they'll go, and as that gasp slips out of you, he's right there, copying it. He slides into you slow, whining just like you do, a smug chuckle slipping out while he presses his forehead to yours.

"Ah, ah-" His voice matches yours, mocking, his mouth twisting into a grin.

When you turn your head away, embarrassed, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his intense, brown eyes. He loves when you pout, his brow furrowing, mimicking your frustration with cruel precision.

"What's wrong? Want me to stop?" That grin stretches wide across his face when you shake your head desperately.

"No, no, no-" he mocks, voice high-pitched, laughing at the way you crumble under him.

But the second you clamp down on him in that way, he's all nods and hums, pleased, grinding into you until your legs shake. Then he's back at it, slamming into you again, panting just like you, throwing a mean laugh when you curse at him.

"Fuck me? Yeah, fuck me?" His voice is biting, playful, right before he sinks his teeth into your neck and pounds harder into the spot that makes everything go white.

He only gets serious when you're teetering on the edge. You're breathless, pleading, telling him exactly what you need, and he's listening, nodding like he's taking orders.

"Right here? Like that? C'mon, use your words."

And when you finally tip over, he's right there with you, pulling back just enough to mirror your face. Brows furrowed, jaw slack, breathless. Not to tease, but because the pleasure's consuming him too. Maybe even more.

//shout-out to @kyletogaz for the whole kyle mimicking thing that I haven't been able to get out of my head//

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

18+ mdni!

c/w: mean older!rafe being a tease & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.  

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.   

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.   

“What are you doing? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.  

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” The muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.   

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”  

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps. 

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.   

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.   

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.  

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” He mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.   

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.  

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.  

“Shit, just needed something to suck on, huh?” He pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.   

“So fucking pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anything Daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.   

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.   

“Feels nice to have something in your mouth, doesn’t it?” He ogles at her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.   

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.   

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.   

“Daddy, need your...” Her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth. 

“Can’t really hear you, Kitten,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.   

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.  

"What did you say?" His lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.   

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.   

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.   

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.  

“Don't think you could take Daddy’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.   

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.   

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, Kitten,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.   

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants. 

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whining about wanting me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” There’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.  

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.   

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.  

“What was that?” The line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.   

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” He grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.  

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her. 

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” He rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he'll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves… 

[clairiko]

i had a dream recently that wild used the four sword and its magic split him into his past, present and future selves 🤔 so ofc i had to draw this concept

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

idiots to idiots in love with an even bigger idiot

[sergeantsporks]

Looking through fics written during fandom height like an elderly baroness walking through a dilapidated but evidently-used-to-be-grand mansion sighing about what the status of the family used to be and how now only the most loyal of old friends and subjects still stop by.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bucky who starts a purely platonic physical touch giving friendship with reader… until it turns into more

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡  ｡✭･ﾟ

It starts off so innocently. Bucky just sat really close to you one day and noticed how the touch of your shoulder on his made him tingly all over.

The same happened when your hand brushed his, or you passed close by, and he caught a whiff of your hair - something that reminds him of the feeling he now seeks out when you’re around.

It’s no secret that either of you have been single a long time with basically no prospects for a future relationship, so no one questions when you and him suddenly hang out more.

He invites you over when you ask him if he was okay, and he realized that his day was in fact crappy and that if you offered to talk to him, he’d tell you all about it.

And when you sit on the sofa listening to Bucky talk, your hand instinctively found his and before Bucky knew it, his head was pressed into your shoulder, your nails raking over his scalp releasing a feeling within him, he can only describe as heavenly.

He loves it when you comfort him, and he loves comforting you, somehow knowing that you need this part of your friendship just as much as he does.

So it becomes a regular thing: when the rest of the team returns home to their spouses after a tiring mission, you and Bucky retreat to either one of your apartments under the pretense of not wanting to be alone.

Of course, neither of you planned for it to become so touchy and intimate... no, that would be insane, right?

It’s a normal afternoon for the two of you, hanging out at your place, a movie playing on TV, Bucky’s head buried in your chest as he lays half on top of you and you with your back against the sofa. Your hand rakes over his hair as his are halfway tugged beneath your body, seeking all the warmth he can get.

The physical touch aspect of your relationship has somehow crossed the lines between friends, but neither of you care. It feels too good to be held and protected to stop.

Bucky hasn't felt the caring touch of a partner in decades and you... well, let's just say that all men before Bucky didn't feel the need to express their love through aftercare - not that Bucky is in any way shape or form about to give said aftercare... no, you are just friends. Just. Friends.

Friends who frequently hide their hands in the other's jacket when the cold catches up to them.

Friends who bury their faces in each other's chest and lap like it is the most normal thing a person can do to another.

Friends who somehow always wonder if the other feels that spark ignite whenever they hold each other close.

Bucky feels the sensation when he's practically caging you beneath his upper body of the sofa. He lifts his head as he usually does to see if maybe this time he could magically hear your thoughts.

"What's up?"

He shakes his head. "I just really enjoy this." he mumbles and blushes, and your hand suddenly stops its path along his scalp.

"Me too." you smile and look into his eyes.

normally he'd put his head back, and you'd resume watching the movie, but something is different today.

maybe it's the way his hair looks perfectly tousled by your constant motions, or maybe it's the way he slowly blinks at you like a very comfortable pet.

but you finally find the courage to kiss him.

Follow my library blog for fic updates! @espinosaurusrexex-library

[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[alwaysthefool]

Your turn to be a cat (x Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier)

Warnings: Suggestive, might have minor spoilers for cat companion memories, kinda cringe ngl

Tags: Fluff (literally), MC/Reader, no gendered pronouns for you

Synopsis: This time, you’re the one who gets a cat tail and a second set of ears.

Zayne

“When you said medical emergency, this isn’t what I had in mind.” Zayne looked at your ears, a first aid kid in his hand. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since you texted him, telling him it was something dire and you couldn’t go to the hospital, and there he was, at your door, stifling a smile.

“Don’t laugh!” You scolded him, turning red, the tail you tried to hide inside your hoodie peeking out. You grabbed it immediately, forcing it back in. You pulled him inside, shutting the door to your apartment.

“Don’t fold your tail, it’ll be bad for your back.” Zayne spoke, taking off his shoes and keeping the first aid kit near the entrance. “And besides, it’s very cute.”

The tail made its way back out, and listening to your doctor’s advice, you let it be. “Help me out my hoodie.” You demanded, and Zayne couldn’t help but laugh at your tone, carefully helping you out your hoodie so as to not bother your sensitive ears, one of his hands holding down your t-shirt from riding up.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, curling up on the couch, your tail swaying against its will. Zayne made his way next to you, unable to stop himself from touching it. “It’s really soft.” He observed, his large hand stroking it lightly.

“Quit playing around!” You whined, not really wanting him to stop, but being the gentleman he was, he did, not taking revenge for how you treated him when he was a cat. “How do I make it go away?”

“Can I have a closer look at your tail?” Zayne asked, and you hissed, earning a laugh out of him. “Alright, I won’t look, but you shouldn’t be shy around your doctor, especially when you’re the one who called me here.”

“You’re not just my doctor…” You looked up at him a little hopefully, tail swaying again.

Zayne smiled. “You’re right, I suppose I’m your vet now.”

You pouted, walking away from him in feline elegance, taking your place on the adjacent arm chair, lying on it with your tail in the air. “How did you feel when you were a cat?”

“Needy.” Zayne admitted, after some thought.

Like a cat, you wanted something, but you were too proud to admit it. “Then…” You sat up on the chair, gazing at him, tail swaying behind you. “How do you, how do you… how do you think I must be feeling right now?” You shied away immediately, cat ears perking up.

Zayne would take care of you, no matter what, so before you knew it, you were on his lap, his large hands stroking your ears. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”

You purred, nuzzling on his chest, holding on to him tightly, as his hands worked on your ears and tail. “You knew.”

“Maybe.” Zayne spoke into your ear. Your heightened senses could listen to his racing heart, and his gushing blood. “But I really wanted to hear you ask.”

Rafayel

Honestly, he’d be EMPATHETHIC loool

You were supposed to accompany him for an event, but as you put on your dress, you felt cold from behind. Looking in the mirror, you saw a tail pulling your dress up, and a pair of ears on your head. You yelped, turning the lights off, and hiding in a corner. This couldn’t be happening.

“Cutie, what was that?” Rafayel called from outside the door. You had the misfortune of being at his house when it happened too. You quietly opened the window, to make it seem like maybe you ran away. You would, too, but you couldn’t be seen in public like that.

“I’m coming in!” Rafayel called upon hearing the sound of the window opening. You quietly hid under his bed.

Rafayel was already in his suit and tie, giving off a certain scent which made him seem oddly delectable.

“Where did you go…” He mumbled, looking at the open window. You could only see his feet now, so you couldn’t tell what he was doing, until your phone buzzed. You scrambled to turn it silent, when Rafayel crouched down, peeking under the bed.

Before you knew it, you scratched him with a hiss.

“Ow!” He stood back up, and you could smell his blood. You didn’t expect yourself to do that, or for the scratch to draw blood.

You crawled out, standing up to look at his hand. “I’m so sorry!” As you realised what you did, you took your hands away from his wounded hand, trying to hide your tail.

“I, uh…” You couldn’t meet Rafayel’s eyes, scared of what he was thinking.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Rafayel sighed. “I thought a cat sneaked in.”

He saw your tail lifting up your dress, and wrapped his coat around your waist. You still turned away from him, looking guilty. “Cutie, look at me.” He called gently. “It was just a scratch, and you didn’t mean it.”

You looked up at him, and his face was gentle, nothing like you expected. “Why did you hide from me?” He asked, his hands on your cheeks.

“I thought you’d be disgusted of me. I’m a cat, after all.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He coaxed you, pulling you into a hug. “I could never be disgusted by you. I told you before, right? I’d love you even if you were a worm.”

You let out a laugh, hugging him back, pulling him down on the bed behind you. He kept holding you, surprised by the sudden affection. “And you’re also the only cute cat in the world.”

Sylus

SUGGESTIVE

This was bad. Sylus would never let you live it down, but you also had no choice but to tell him. Your first thought after being turned into half a cat was volunteering at the cat café, so you’d get to spend time around the kitties, but that isn’t what the OTTO had in mind when giving you that outfit. Now you needed someone to help you out there.

“Are you done?” The OTTO asked, its tone irritated.

You remained dead silent, texting Sylus to ‘smash that devilish robot into pieces’.

You heard commotion outside, then some banging, thinking maybe, finally, Sylus had arrived, leaning your ear against the door.

“Loving the new look, sweetie.” Sylus was somehow behind you, hand already on your tail. You immediately turned around to see him gaze fondly at you, who was sat leaning against the door. “Guess you’ve been affected by the cat evol too.”

You looked away from his strong gaze, suddenly very aware of what OTTO made you wear. A short maid dress, with an opening at the back for your tail, and chiffon gloves with a cat paw stitched on them. Before you could change back, the sinister robot stole your clothes.

“I’m pleased you decided to call me in such a situation.”

“Shut up…” You mumbled.

“That’s no way to speak to the person who saved you, kitten.” This time, that word held a whole new meaning.

“I’m… sorry.” You forced, ears drooping down. You looked up at him with a pout, and he pet you behind the ears. You rubbed your head against his head, until you realised what you were doing, forcing yourself to stop. You cleared your throat.

“That’s rare coming from you.” He teased, fingers dancing around your jaw. There was a certain scent to them, so you bit him, though not hard enough to draw blood. Sylus winced, pulling back. “There’s the kitten I know.”

“Did you bring a change of clothes like I asked?”

Sylus hummed in response, not really focusing on anything other than playing with your hair and ears, hands trickling down to where your tail was, pulling at the ribbons of the dress, acting more like a cat than you. You leaned in to him, and he placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck.

Understanding where this was going, you reluctantly held his arm. “Mm, let’s not, I’m super hairy right now.” You said, referring to all the cat fuzz.

“That’s fine.” Sylus whispered into your ear. “I prefer it like that.”

Xavier

“Ugh…” You groaned, still sleepy. You had work pending, but for some reason, you couldn’t keep your eyes open despite having a lot of sleep and a cup of coffee, Knowing Xavier was often in the same predicament, you went to his floor, hoping he had some insanely potent energy drinks on him.

He opened the door, also groggy, but straightening up when he saw you. “Hey.” You greeted, intending to yawn but letting out a ‘meow’ instead.

“That was strange.” You tried to laugh it off. Xavier let you inside, and you explained that you were uncharacteristically sleepy the whole day.

“How do you manage to stay up?” You were sat on his fuzzy carpet, pulling at it.

Xavier smiled, sitting down next to you. “I think there might be another reason you’re so sleepy today.” He opened his phone’s front camera, facing it towards you.

“W-what’s that?” You cried, hands going towards the ears on your head and tail behind you.

“Cats might need up to 16 hours of sleep a day.” Xavier put his phone down, leaning his elbow on the coffee table, his other hand gently touching your ear. “If you have work, I’ll do it for you.”

“Really?” Your tail moved in excitement.

Xavier nodded, as he went downstairs to get your laptop. You prowled around his house, trying to fall asleep on his bed, then looking in his fridge for something to eat, restless and impatient, irritated that you were unable to fall asleep despite being sleepy. You looked for several spots, but nothing was snug enough.

That was until you saw Xavier typing your mission reports on his laptop. You crawled over to him on all fours, setting your head down on his lap. He gave your head a few scratches, helping you fall asleep.

Despite not being a cat anymore, Xavier couldn’t help feel sleepy seeing you safely under him. Perhaps cats could sense people’s feelings, because you spoke, half asleep “Put that aside Xavi, come cuddle with me.”

Eventually, the work was discarded, and Xavier held you on his couch, legs intertwined, head buried in his chest, his arms around you protectively, pretty dreams and soft feelings warm enough for you to get through whatever your supervisors would have to say.

[nekrosmos]

I know 0 things about Rugby but I had to put Price in situations after reading this fic by @on-a-lucky-tide , the man was made for tiny shorts, come on

[promisingyounglady]

watermelons. | JS x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.

PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.

He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.

And by the girls, he means your tits.

Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.

And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.

The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.

“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.

“Back off, Bradshaw”

And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.

“Hi sweetheart”

It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.

“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.

“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.

And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.

All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.

That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.

“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.

He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.

“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.

You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”

Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.

You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.

“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.

Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.

“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.

The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.

The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.

Jake Seresin was a tits guy.

So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.

You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.

“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”

He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.

“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.

you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.

You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.

“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.

[disastersareajoy]

Pussy Drunk Thomas Hewitt - Drabble

Thomas Hewitt x FEM!Reader

Tags: established relationship, cunnilingus, forced orgasms, talk of bruises, wet and messy, squirting, dacryphilia, overstimulation

Word count: 1.1k

fucking obsessed with the idea of Thomas getting absolutely, down bad, pussy-drunk as soon as he gets a taste

like his virgin-ass being too afraid of hurting you to fuck you at first and getting on his knees for you. he gets a taste, kind of pulls back and licks his lips and you can see his pupils dilate and his eyes fucking glaze over and he just falls face first into your pussy

sloppy, wet, spit slick, hungry oral from that man. his teeth bump into you in all the right ways sometimes. one moment he's whimpering into you and the next he's grumbling and trying to get his tongue deeper and deeper into you to taste more

and it does not matter to him when you beg for him to slow down and how you can't cum anymore. because you keep dripping on his face and tongue and making wonderful noises and you just taste so fucking good, how could he stop??

his arms wrap around your thighs and he holds onto them hard and firm and keeps you pulled close to his face. you can feel that it's gonna bruise and you're going to cherish those bruises for days

he doesn't even notice how hard he's gripping you because he's trying to get all of his senses filled with you. he tastes, smells and feels nothing but you. the only thing his ears can focus on are your moans and whimpers. his hands massage your thighs periodically and when he opens his eyes it's just to look at your face, thrown back in pleasure. the only thing better is when you're looking down at him with tears in your eyes, still moaning for him

Tommy is completely drunk off your taste. he loves the feeling of your pussy on his tongue and he loves the little whining groan you let out when he sucks on your clit

now, when he keeps going and going and your hand in his hair trying to push him away finally falls to your side, he doesn't even realize what he's doing next. it's all out of instinct when his hands readjust so his arms stay wrapped around your thighs but his thumbs are spreading open your folds. that's when he really loses it

because he can get his tongue even deeper like that. he can bury it inside you and find the spot that makes you drip a little more and that makes you moan all broken and needy. once he finds it he abuses the fuck out of it. keeps licking over it, poking at it with his tongue and savoring every drop of you that spills into his mouth

and then. his holy grail. you grab his hair again and moan louder. you're sobbing and begging him to slow down because it feels different this time. he doesn't listen of course. all he knows is you're about to do that thing again where he can feel your pussy flutter and twitch and your thighs squeeze around him and your moans get all whimpery

he keeps going until your hips lift up into him. he stays attached to your pussy and keeps doing what he's doing, knowing he can't stop. needs to keep going to get you to do that thing

suddenly you gasp and go completely quiet. then you moan so loud it's almost a scream. a sobbing sort of thing that's absolutely gorgeous to him. on top of that your hips start wildly shaking along with your legs and your pleasure starts gushing out of you

Tommy moans into your juices and gets closer if that's even possible at that point. he shakes his head so he rubs over your clit side to side while he keeps his tongue abusing that spot inside you. and fuck does he get drenched. he swallows down as much as he can of you and whimpers into it. anything he can't get, drips down his face and drenches his shirt and lap

once you come down you realize he's still going and you can't handle it anymore. you start crying more and weakly kicking your legs out which finally makes Tommy look up. he sees your devastated face and while he thinks the sweat mixed with tears and drool, as well as the tortured pleasure in your eyes is a heavenly sight, he listens to your weak pleas

he finally pulls away and you sigh in relief. Tommy stays away from your pussy (as much as he hates it) and spends his time licking your thighs clean. just a minute away from your pussy makes him whimper and look up at you pleadingly. your legs are still shaking and you shake your head at him

so Tommy whines and starts biting your thighs instead, getting closer and closer to your pussy until he's mouthing right next to it. you're shaking and sweating and still losing a coupe tears when he licks flat over your clit once. then your back arches and you gasp, trying not to make too loud a noise

you know if you moan he's gonna start again and you think he might actually kill you that time. he softly licks over your clit again, wraps his lips around it and you slap a hand over your mouth. but Tommy sees your lack of noise as a sign to keep going and starts sucking on your clit. when his teeth graze over it your hand whips away from your mouth to his hair and you yell out a moan that ends with a broken whine

immediately you know you're in for it. Tommy moans happily and grabs your thighs hard once more. he dives into you again and gets back to his sloppy, needy and enthusiastic pace without hesitation. all you can do is moan, whimper and whine as Tommy makes you see stars over and over again

he's obsessed with making you squirt on his face and listening to your whimpers as he tastes you. he loves the feeling of your heartbeat in your clit, pounding against his tongue

sometimes you can't get him off of your pussy until he's had at least a couple hours of his way with you. he's obsessed with your pussy and a single taste makes him entirely lose his mind. he'd do anything to fall to his knees in front of you

he would spend forever between your thighs if it was up to him

your pussy is his paradise and his salvation. every gush of your juices is a baptism of wonder. you are his goddess and he worships you at every turn

Consider leaving a comment or reblog along with your like, they're always lovely to see. Eitherway, thank you for reading! <3

[steddieprompts]

Another mini fic. cutesy. Eddie is an idiot. 1880 words.

Thanksgiving, 1986.

Eddie smiled into the phone as Joyce listed off all the people who were going to be at their early Thanksgiving.  “Argyle is flying in from California, and Dustin is bringing his mom.  You and your uncle should come! The more the merrier!”

“That sounds great, Mrs. Byers.  We’d love to.”  Eddie replied.

“Oh good!  Remember, Friday at 3:30, we’ll eat at 4:30.”

“We’ll be there.”

Eddie hung up the phone and left a note for Wayne.  He wouldn’t be home until 4 in the morning.  Eddie was sure he would have something to say about it.  “Ain’t got nothin’ to bring,” or “Three’s a crowd, not sure what to call twenty.”  But he would go. Hopper would have a glass of whisky for him, and they would sit out on the porch after dinner swapping war stories.

What worried Eddie more was his… situation with Steve.  See, earlier in the week he and Steve had gone to the movies.  They had had a nice time, a really good time, even, and for a few months Eddie had sensed something building between them.  He just couldn’t believe it was anything close to what he deeply, deeply hoped for.  He was so in his head about it that after the movies, when Steve dropped him back at the trailer, Eddie panicked.  Acted like a virgin idiot, really.  Steve had parked the car, glanced up at the dark trailer before turning towards Eddie.

“I had a really good time tonight.”  He had said.

“Uh, yeah, it was nice.”  Eddie replied, tense in his seat because he could sense something coming from Steve.

“Yeah, nice.”  Steve mused and then Eddie made the fatal mistake of looking at him.  Steve was sort of leaning towards him, elbow on the armrest between the seats, head tilted ever so slightly, eyes soft.

“Yup!”  Eddie squeaked out and then grabbed the door handle, throwing the door open and tripping out of the car like he was being chased by the devil.  “We should, uh, do it again sometime.  Bye!”  He bumbled out before slamming the door and launching himself up the porch stairs and into the trailer.

He hadn’t really talked to Steve since.

+++++++

So, that Friday, when he and Wayne were welcomed into the Byers’ home, he wasn’t sure what to expect.  Wayne was immediately pulled away by Hopper and a glass of whiskey, leaving Eddie to shuffle awkwardly towards the living room.  Once the kids saw him, he had something to keep him occupied, until all the hugs were given out and Nancy brought him a drink.  He hadn’t seen Steve yet.

“Uh, where’s Max?  Not here yet?”  Eddie asked as he accepted the drink.

“Oh!  She’s with Will and El in the kitchen.  They’re helping Mrs. Byers with the cooking,” Nancy explained.

“I should go say hi.”  Eddie stepped away from the living room towards the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the threshold.  There, next to Mrs. Byers at the stove, was Steve, with his knit, red sweater and a towel over his shoulder, like some sort of Christmas romance movie hero.

“Eddie’s here!”  He heard Will say before he could tear his eyes away from Steve, who, of course, turned around as soon as he heard Eddie’s name.  Bemused, he watched a smile spread over Steve’s face before Will enveloped him in a hug.  A hug that Eddie graciously returned.

“Sir William, it is an honor to be welcomed into your abode.” Eddie said with a little bow, before hugging Max and El.

“Eddie!  We’re so glad you made it!”  Joyce said from the stove as Eddie took another few cautious steps into the room.  “Is your uncle here too?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s with Hopper tending the fire,” Eddie relied, “Thank you, again, for having us.”

“Of course, sweetheart!”

Eddie chanced another look at Steve.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve said, eyes warm, easy smile.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie replied.  Maybe he hadn’t totally fucked everything up as much as he thought.  But Steve seemed quiet, reserved. Maybe he had.

“I think about ten more minutes!”  Joyce said, pulling the turkey out of the oven.  “I need Hop to come carve the turkey.  Hop!”  She yelled out into the noisy living room.

“I’ll go find him, Mrs. B,” Eddie volunteered before ducking out of the kitchen… and right into Robin.

“You.” she said, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Uh, hello to you too, Bobin.”

“What the hell did you do to Steve?”

Eddie’s heart dropped into his shoes.  “I… what? Nothing!”

“He’s been mopey for the past five days!  The last thing he did was go to the movies with you!”

“I swear!”

“Did you say something about his hair?  You know his last haircut didn’t really go the way he planned.  Or was it the movie?  Did you tell him you didn’t want to see Hoosiers?  Because you know how much he wanted to see that movie.”

“No! Buckley, we saw Hoosiers! And I didn’t even notice his hair.  Look…”  Eddie let out his breath in a huff.  “Just hold on.”  Eddie moved from the hallway to the living room so he could see Hopper.  “Hey, chief?  The missus needs you to carve the bird.”  Hopper nodded to him and Eddie turned on his heel to go back to his conversation with Robin, only to come face to face with the woman herself.  It was a miracle he didn’t spill his drink down her shirt.  “Ok, look, come here.”  Eddie murmured, dragging her off into a corner of the hall.

He took a sip of his drink and steeled himself.  “Ok, I might have, maybe, panicked, a little when he dropped me off,” Eddie mumbled out.

“You what?”

“Look, you can’t tell anyone, but I’ve got this stupid… fat… stupid crush on Harrington and I might have, like, freaked out about it.”

“…you what…”

“I know it’s stupid! But he looked so… soft! And just.  Like he might have, I don’t know, wanted to kiss me or something, but there is no way that could have been what was happening, but my stupid primate brain thought it was, so I bolted, Okay?  I’m not proud of it. It probably came off as weird and rude and that’s probably what got him all twisted up.”  Eddie took a deep breath after his rant, and then a sip of his drink, watching Robin’s face cycle through uncountable emotions.

“Edward, I say this with the utmost sympathy as well as disrespect.  You, are an idiot.”  And with that she left him blinking in the hallway.

Eddie thought about those two little sentences throughout the entire dinner.  An idiot?  He knew he was an idiot, but why?  Because he thought Steve maybe liked him?  Or because he didn’t kiss Steve?  What the hell did she mean?  Not to mention Steve was across the table from him and every time Eddie looked up, Steve would look away from him like he had been staring.

“Eddie!”

“Huh?!” Eddie tore his eyes away from Steve to look at Dustin.

“I was asking if we were still on for our campaign next week.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m almost done.  Just need to iron out the kinks.”  Eddie replied, feeling Steve’s gaze burning into the side of his head, but when he looked back Steve’s eyes were back on his plate.  He had been uncharacteristically quiet when Eddie was in the kitchen.  Was he mad at Eddie?  No, that couldn’t have been it; he gave Eddie that smile that nearly made him forget where he was.

Steve was being cautious. Guarded. So unlike himself.

Eddie really had screwed up.

“In the drama room?”  Eddie heard Dustin say, distantly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie answered, eyes not leaving Steve, who kept glancing up at him.

He had to fix this.  He wanted the old Steve back.  Wanted more than that, if his luck was with him.

After everyone had eaten and Mrs. Henderson was bringing out the pies, Joyce started to gather the plates.

“I’ve got it, Mrs. B.  You sit.”  Eddie said, standing and gathering the plates around him.  “Stevie, you wanna help me with dish duty?”  He asked, sending up a little prayer to the universe that his stupid, little, half-baked plan would work.  Steve nodded and started gathering the plates on his side.

In the kitchen, plates stacked high on the counter next to the sink, Eddie stood with his hands in the soapy water, the sound of his extended family floating in from the dining room, and Steve next to him with a towel in his hands, drying the dishes Eddie handed him.

“About Monday night…” Eddie started hesitantly.  He saw Steve freeze next to him.  He kept his gaze on the dish he was washing. If he looked at Steve he might choke again.  “I… Shit, I don’t know what happened. I just… well I thought maybe there was something, I don’t know, between us.  But I’m not good at reading those signs, ya know?  Not much experience.”  He heard himself chuckle wryly, before clearing his throat.  At least Steve was unfrozen, listening and drying a casserole dish.  “But it’s not about that, not really.  I shouldn’t have just… bolted like that.  I can’t pretend to understand what was happening, but whatever it was, that was a pretty shitty reaction on my part.  And I’m sorry, Stevie.” 

He kept washing the dish in his hands, watching out of the corner of his eye as Steve put the casserole dish down.

“Eddie, look at me.”  Eddie turned his head, meeting Steve’s gaze.  His warm, gentle, beautiful gaze.  “it’s not all your fault.”

“Oh…”  Eddie let out a little noise.  That didn’t answer any of his questions, but he couldn’t look away.  He couldn’t look away as Steve stepped closer.  Couldn’t look away as Steve took the dish out of his hands and gave him the towel.

“Come on,” Steve said, nodding over his shoulder towards the back door.  Eddie quickly dried his hands and followed Steve outside to the back porch.  The air was frosty, the lightest dusting of snow on the handrail and tiny flakes dancing in the dim porch light.  “I should have…”  Steve settled his hip against the porch rail, looking down at his nails.  “I should have been more up front with you.”  He said, finally looking at Eddie.

Shit.  Steve was going to try to let him down easy.  He knew he read it wrong.

“I really, really like you, Eddie.”  What? “And I’ve never really felt this way about a guy,” What?? “Let alone a friend.  And I’ve been so scared of ruining what we have.  I should have just told you.” Excuse me?

“Wait.”  Eddie let out a little, exasperated laugh, reeling it back in when Steve winced. “Stevie, you like me?”  Steve just nodded.  “Did you really want to kiss me? Monday night?”  Steve nodded again.  Eddie took a steadying breath, “do you still?”

There was a pause… and then…

That soft, warm, smile that made Eddie feel like he was made of sunlight.

“Yeah,” Steve barely got out before Eddie launched himself at him, cupping Steve’s cheeks, kissing him until he knew that smile by feel alone.

Happy Thanksgiving.