#sometimes you just get going and then you can't stop.

[aureatelys]

can't lose when i'm with you

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 7k a/n: happy valentines day! this idea came to me as a joke but then i couldnt stop thinking about it. also i know nothing about golf or country clubs so sorry in advance if i got anything wrong.

summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.

content warnings: 18+ MDNI PLEASE, dbf!hotch so age gap, kinda flirty!reader, porn with no plot, dry humping on a golf cart yessir, semi public sex, m masturbation, some dirty talk, men (not hotch) being gross and touchy

read below or here on ao3 here <3

You’ve been working as a beverage cart girl at your dad’s country club for the past several months to save money for school. At first, the bluntness of some of these older men flirting with you caught you off guard, but after you got your first $100 tip just from serving a group of three men a couple of beers and flashed them a smile, you were hooked. Flirting was part of the job, which became easier and easier for you the more shifts you took.

After all, it was easy money—refilling the drinks in the coolers, driving around a well-kept golf course while underneath the shade of the cart, and handing out drinks with a little smile and a hair flip. Sometimes, you even sat nearby and cheered Ted on as he hobbled over to take his shot.

You even got to add some personal touches to your beloved cart—a pink fuzzy steering wheel cover, a blush pink sheet covering the leather seats so your thighs would stop sticking to them, a pillow in the shape of a heart for your back, and a cute miniature disco ball hanging from the roof because old people love to pretend like they can party again.

And the men weren’t too bad. You’ve had a few run ins with some on the handsier side, or ones that straight up asked to have sex with you, but luckily your manager dealt a swift and heavy hand and you never saw them again. Otherwise, the customers were mostly decent, as long as you were okay with some heavy flirting and generous eye-fucking.

It’s a typical busy Saturday when you meet Aaron.

You knew your dad was having some sort of “business meeting” with the highly decorated FBI agent he’s been recently obsessed and hanging out with, and he knew that you were mentioned the most in the country club’s Google reviews. He wanted you to put him in a good mood, which was basically in your job description. You didn’t mind since your father promised a hefty tip for you at the end.

You spot them a few yards away—your father’s lucky red hat, muted in color due to wear and tear, and another man nearly a foot taller standing near him. You call out for them and speed your way there in your rickety little cart when your dad waves to you.

When you pull up next to them, it looks like they’ve just finished Hole 2, which means this would be absolute prime time for you if they were typical customers.

“Hey boys,” you call out. You’re about to ask them if they’re thirsty when you get a good look at your dad’s friend.

He’s tall, almost outrageously so with how far you have to crane your neck to look at him. He’s also ridiculously handsome; strong brows, intense eyes, and floppy hair that looked so soft you craved running your hands through them. Wide shoulders, thick arms, and a little soft around the middle in a way that made something flutter in your stomach.

He was definitely not your typical customer.

“Hey sweetie!” Your dad comes to give you a kiss on the top of your head. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

He’s such a good actor, you think as you beam up at him. “And I didn’t know you were going golfing today. You guys thirsty?”

“Absolutely! I’ll take a beer, how about you, Aaron?”

“A water is fine.” Christ, even his voice is hot—low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You make your way to the cooler in the back, squinting as soon as you’re out from the shade and into the blazing sun. “A beer and a water for my two most handsome guys coming right up!”

As always, your dad laughs, but when you peek a glance out of the corner of your eye from where you’re bent over, half of your body basically in the cooler as you fish out a water bottle, Aaron was wearing an obviously practiced neutral expression.

You finally find the bottle, your hand nearly going numb from how much ice you had to dig through, and hand it to Aaron with a grin. “Here you go.”

He meets your gaze and you’re drawn to the pretty brown sugar shade of his eyes. “Thank you.” He’s polite, not even a smile gracing his lips before he’s twisting the cap off and tipping his head back to take a long swig.

You swear your throat goes dry at the tantalizingly long line of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You’re able to get a closer look at him this way— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the tight red polo was stretching over his broad shoulders, and the way his hands were so large it made the water bottle look almost comically small.

Your father’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Aaron, this is my daughter. Sweetie, this is Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the BAU I told you about?”

Boy, have you heard about him—your dad hasn’t shut up about him over the past month, talking about how he’s such a great guy, how he’s been at the Bureau for over a decade, and how he’s been bragging about his golfing skills and that the two of them just had to play some time.

You don’t exactly remember what today’s meeting was about, something about implementing a new training program to his agents? Either way, he had hoped you would use your spectacular customer service to help his odds, but you’re sure he wasn’t hoping for you to have the thoughts you were currently having that involved his hands on your hips and your mouth pressed against his throat.

A ringtone blares, nearly making you jump, and you watch as your father steps away to take a call.

You put on your best customer service smile and put your hand out, pink nails glinting underneath the sun. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Something quirks at the corner of Aaron’s mouth as he puts his hand in yours. You try not to pay attention to how his hand nearly dwarfs yours or how you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers. “You as well.”

“Unit chief, huh?” you ask, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. “I bet that’s a really stressful job. You should come visit me more. To de-stress.”

And it’s like Aaron’s face transforms into something softer, younger. You watch in delight as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth twisting in an effort to hide an amused smile. “Should I now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, leaning your hip against your cart. You’re suddenly glad you wore your shortest tennis skirt and sleeveless top that emphasized your cleavage quite well today. “I’m here almost every day and we close at 6.”

His body turns towards you, stepping in closer. You think you catch the faintest whiff of his woodsy cologne, breaking through the freshly cut grass smell. “Is that why your dad was so adamant about going golfing today? So his daughter could flirt his way into me approving his training curriculum?”

An incredulous laugh nearly bubbles out of you at his instant ability to read through you despite only knowing each other less than 5 minutes. You assume he’s the unit chief for a reason.

“Is it working?”

He says nothing for a moment, just looking you up and down in a way that made you want to shift, though not uncomfortably. He studies you and your pristine white sneakers, the hem of your tennis skirt brushing against the warm expanse of your thighs, and your hair in a high ponytail. He glances at the cannisters of edible glitter and mini umbrellas on your bev cart. You see his eyes dance with amusement when he notices the mini disco ball swinging from your roof.

When he looks back at you, eyebrows relaxed, the professional flat line of his mouth was gone and instead replaced with something more private. “Yes.”

Excitement settles in your chest, light and golden. You feel your face flush out of your own accord and hope you can blame the summer sun beating down on you and not your father’s coworker, no more than 20 years older than you, flirting with you.

Your father suddenly appears right around Aaron’s shoulder, always with impeccable timing. He looks just as flushed as you feel, sweat building at his hairline while Aaron looks impossibly dry despite the humidity. “Ready to move onto the next hole, Hotch?”

And just like that, Aaron’s face smoothly changes to polite professionalism and not like you were seconds away from throwing your arms around his neck. He nods and gives you a courteous smile, something playful tugging at his lips. “It was nice to meet you.”

When your father fishes through his wallet to pay for the drinks, and hopefully your tip as well, Aaron lays a hand over his before he’s pulling out his own from his back pocket. “I got it,” he says, before handing you two crisp $100 bills.

“Oh,” you say before you could help yourself. And because it’s Aaron, whom you’ve never met before and not like your other customers, you didn’t feel quite comfortable in taking his money. Yet. “This more than pays for the drinks…”

He shakes his head and pushes the money towards you. “I know.”

You take his money, solely because you don’t want to cause a scene when your father was already stuttering over himself in an attempt to still cover the bill himself. You notice how thick his fingers are over the folded bills and ignore the warmth tingling up your spine when your fingers brush against his.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You don’t miss the way his eyes barely narrow at the sound of his name from your lips or the imperceptible clench of his hand at his side.

You try to hide the smirk threatening to show on your face when you get back into your cart, your silly keychains hanging from the ignition clinking with the action. You put your cart in drive and look over your shoulder at Aaron, your father’s attention already enraptured by the phone in his hand.

“See you around, handsome.”

You think you see a faint hint of pink at the tips of Aaron’s ears before you drive away.

-

You don’t see Aaron for several weeks.

You try not to let it bother you, starting to come to terms with the possibility that he just wasn’t interested in you or that you were too young and juvenile for him. So what if you’ve been picking up more shifts lately, just in case he decided to show up? Or spending your entire paycheck on cute outfits that hug you in all the right places? That isn’t anyone else’s business except yours.

So it’s totally because you’ve been bored all day when you let out a squeak of excitement at the text you get from your dad letting you know that him and Aaron were on their way to the country club.

It’s a slow Thursday afternoon, which means the men that do show up to play, clearly avoiding their wives, believe they can keep you around at their beck and call. A group of 3 older gentlemen who were somewhat regulars had asked you to drive them around in your golf cart despite regulations not allowing customers to catch a ride, but they’ve already racked up hundreds of dollars in drinks, so you’re sure your boss wouldn’t mind.

They’re also a little touchy, wanting to teach you how to play so they have an excuse to put their hands on your hips and not so subtly cop a feel, but their usual tips at the end of the day easily pays for half of your rent. So, you play along by flipping your hair over your shoulder a bit, maybe even acting a little ditsy when they talk about golf as if your dad hadn’t thrown you in lessons as soon as you were able to hold a club.

That’s why you’ve been sitting behind your wheel entertaining grandpa for the past 30 minutes, his friends actually focused on the game, as he rattles on about his ex-wife, how he’s currently looking for a younger girl to take out, and the best way to move your hips when you shoot.

“If you stand up, I can show you how,” he says hoarsely, standing so closely you can smell not only the acrid scent of beer that he’s been sipping on but also the general musty smell of old people you’ve unfortunately become familiar with.

You fake a laugh, even playing it up by leaning forward and patting his wrinkled hand from where it’s inching closer and closer to you on the headrest. “Oh, Jerry, I don’t think we have time for that. I have to make my rounds.”

When you spot Aaron and your father driving over the hill, the rattle of the shitty golf carts a familiar tune, you immediately lock gazes with him. It’s like watching a movie in slow motion the way you’re able to discern when Aaron notices the older man’s close proximity and your clear uncomfortable posture— his eyebrows drawing up in barely concealed shock before knitting in concern, eyes narrowing.

You let out a breathless laugh at the silent rage, plain as day, before scooting out through the other side of the cart and away from Jerry and his beady eyes.

“Where you going, hot stuff?” Ew.

You put on your sweet customer service smile, often used to placate the rowdier men, before you brush away imaginary dust and start throwing away the trash left on your cart. “Jerry! I still have to do my job!”

You’re relieved when Jerry finally takes the hint and shuffles away towards his golf bag that he left near the teeing area just as Aaron and your father pull up next to you with a screech, giving you a slight breeze. When Aaron steps out of the cart, the most mundane action in the world, he looks unfairly attractive. You stare at the slight flex of his biceps when he holds onto the roof of the cart before tearing yourself away and turning towards your dad.

“How are my two favorite guys?” you tease, giving your dad a hug when he opens his arms out.

“I don’t know about Hotch but I’m ready to kick his ass,” your dad laughs, patting Aaron’s back like they’re suddenly best friends. Which is almost true, seeing as how your dad has somehow become even more obsessed with him, having not stopped talking about losing to him several weeks ago and has evidently somehow roped him into another day on the course.

“Well, I don’t think I should choose sides,” you giggle and glance at Aaron. He’s squinting at you, as if you’re speaking a completely different language, his expression still strained and posture tense.  

You smile at him and give him a cheery little wave. “Hi Aaron.”

“Hi,” he says slowly, shoulders slowly relaxing, and hearing his voice makes you breathless all over again. “Are you okay?”

And it’s sweet, the obvious way Aaron is checking in on you as if you don’t do this every day. Truthfully, you’re used to it and it’s not like the men take it too far. You’re more focused on the fact that this is your second time meeting Aaron and he’s already concerned about your wellbeing and personal space like the true gentleman he is.  

You almost want to tease, poke fun at him, but then you remember your father standing mere inches away who probably wouldn’t like you flirting so unabashedly with his friend/coworker.

Instead, you roll your eyes and head towards your cart. “I’m fine. So, what can I get for you, handsome?”

You’re pulling up the POS on your iPad when you notice Aaron hasn’t answered yet. You turn to lean your hip against your cart, meeting his gaze steadily from where he’s studying you.

You decide to blatantly look him up and down— drinking in the fitted dark green polo, showing off the veins decorating his forearms, and black slacks, making him appear taller and hanging enticingly low on his hips. His hair is tousled from the wind and you notice some gray dusting at his sideburns. And then there’s something about the Rolex on his wrist, God, he’s so hot.

Aaron notices you checking him out, because of course he does. His eyes barely flicker down your body, not quite taking the same liberty as you, but you feel want curling in your stomach when he licks his lips.

“A gin and tonic sounds great, sweetie,” your father says, once again interrupting your thoughts, before he’s immediately launching into a ramble regarding what you assume is some office gossip.

“A water is fine,” Aaron says in between your dad’s breaths. He gives you a sheepish little twitch of the mouth that you shouldn’t find so endearing before he turns to give your dad his full attention.

You make your dad’s drink, the motions automatic and familiar, before you’re opening the cooler and bending over to reach a water bottle at the very bottom. You weren’t really doing it on purpose this time, too focused on getting the coldest bottle at the bottom of the cooler for him, but you still feel a thrill run up your spine when you hear a choked cough behind you.

At least you chose a skort today and not a skirt, though you’re sure it still doesn’t leave much room for the imagination with its flimsy white fabric.

A smirk tugs at your lips, hidden by the cooler, before you turn around with a polite smile and drinks in your hands. Maybe you weren’t wrong about being too juvenile for Aaron after all. “Here you guys are.”

When Aaron’s fingers brush against yours, something hot twists itself into your stomach and settles in between your thighs. You meet his gaze and notice his eyes, dark and almost predatory, pupils nearly completely blown.

You distantly hear your name being called through the blood rushing in your ears. When you break from the hold Aaron’s stare has on you and turn to where the sound came from, you spot Jerry still standing near his golf bag. He and his friends evidently still haven’t taken their shots and moved on yet, instead beckoning you over with a wave as if you were some bumbling waitress.

“Well, duty calls,” you feign a sigh. When you turn back around, Aaron’s wearing an almost petulant frown as he watches Jerry continue calling for you.

“We’ll see you around, pumpkin,” your dad says before slapping a $50 dollar bill in your hand, tutting at Aaron when he starts to pull out his wallet. “Let’s get a move on.”

And then he’s walking away, once again leaving you and Aaron alone.

You move to clean up your cart from where you made your drink, expecting Aaron to silently follow your father and not seeing him for several weeks again. You’re pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little smug, when you hear Aaron clear his throat, as if unsure what to say. And wouldn’t that be something—causing a unit chief of the FBI to hesitate.

“You get off at 6, right?”

A lazy grin blooms across your face as you meet Aaron’s eyes. He appears composed, stoic, but you can see the uncertainty swimming in his eyes, the frown still tugging at his lips as if he can’t get the thought of you with Jerry off his mind. He’s rubbing his thumb across his fingers and you wonder how it would feel on the bare skin of your hips.

“I sure do,” you chirp. “I’ll see you then?”

You can tell that Aaron wasn’t expecting you to give him another chance at backing out. His eyebrows raise in surprise, similarly to how they did when he first met you, like he thought he had you all figured out.

“See you then.”

-

Although you’re stuck with Jerry and his friends for the next 3 hours, you can feel the heavy weight of Aaron’s watchful eyes on your back the entire time. There were even several moments where you thought he was going to burn a hole in the back of your head, or especially Jerry’s, every time he put his clammy hands on yours to help you with a swing or at the small of your back.

And so what if you played it up a little, knowing that you barely knew Aaron but you were already digging your way under his skin?

Knowing Aaron was only several yards away, you laughed extra hard at Jerry’s jokes and bent over a little more every time you set the ball on the tee. It was exhilarating, playful in a way you’ve never felt before. You couldn’t deny that noticing the carnal way Aaron reacted to you, how he stared at you like he wanted to eat you alive, didn’t get you all hot and bothered. You’re sure the wetness between your legs was proof enough.

By the time 6 o’clock finally rolls around and you’re pulling up to the extra storage shed at the back of the country club, your wallet has grown a couple hundred dollars more and your cart’s glove box has gained a couple more slips of paper with phone numbers to gather dust in.

You’ve just finished unloading your cart and cleaning out your shelves when you hear another cart pulling up behind you. When you turn and realize that it’s Aaron, that he actually showed up, you feel giddy in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

“Hey you,” you say over the stack of crates you’re trying to organize. “Let me finish up real quick and then we can go.” Go where, you have no idea, but you’re sure the two of you will figure it out.

“Do you need any help?” he asks, standing so close to you now you can get a full whiff of his cologne. It’s something woodsy and warm that settles comfortably in your chest.

Any other day, you would’ve taken up his offer if only as an excuse to see him lifting crates of drinks and drooling over the way his arms would surely nearly burst out of his sleeves, but you’re honestly almost done and ready to get the hell out of here. “I’m almost done, I promise. But next time you can help so you can show off.”

Aaron immediately rolls his eyes, but you watch with glee as something quirks at the corner of his lips. “Yes, I sat in my car in the parking lot and waited for you just to show off.”

Damn, he is so cute when he’s actually making jokes with you.

You put away all of the cleaning products and lock the door before you’re stepping out to stand in front of Aaron where he’s hovering near your cart.

When you crane your neck to look up at him, you’re suddenly aware of how alone the two of you are, tucked away in a secluded area at the back of the country club where only employees have access to. The two of you are surrounded by trees, thankfully shielding you from the sun, and there’s only one path in and out of the area. The near constant drone of cicadas would be almost annoying if your attention wasn’t all focused on Aaron.

“So, why did you wait for me then?”

And just like that, Aaron’s eyes darken and he clenches his jaw. Now that there was nobody else around, teasing him almost felt like you were poking at a grumpy bear. A cute and very hot bear, but a bear, nonetheless.

“So I can do this.”

And then he’s placing a gentle hand on your waist, hot despite your already sun-kissed skin, and leaning in slowly, as if giving you the chance to back out in case he was reading your signals wrong.

You don’t think you could’ve laid it on thicker, so you meet him halfway to finally press your mouths together.

His lips are soft and he smells like sunscreen, and the way he kisses you is so tender it makes your chest tighten just a little. But it’s not enough.

You step closer into him, throwing your arms around his neck, and deepen the kiss. You catch him by surprise, detecting the exasperated smile against your mouth, but then his hand tightens its grip on your hip and he’s pulling you until you’re pressed flushed up against him.

You can feel the muscles in his chest and the softness of his stomach this way, and it’s so fucking delicious you can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth and into his.

It’s like a dam breaks loose because Aaron groans into your mouth, now causing you to smile, and then he’s spinning you around until he’s sitting in your golf cart and you’re planted right on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and the steering wheel digging into the small of your back.

You gasp in surprise, nearly dizzy with the action, but it melts into a breathy moan when Aaron’s hands run all over you—down your back, your hips, the flesh of your thighs, and then grabbing onto your ass so hard it just pushes you further into his lap. The barely there friction of his belt buckle against your pussy from the movement has you rolling your eyes back into your head, causing you to cant your hips forward again to chase the sharp pleasure twisting in your stomach.

“You’re so,” he mutters under his breath, face tucked between your breasts as he attempts to press open-mouthed kisses against the skin exposed by your black work polo. “Pretty.”

Then he’s lifting up your shirt until it gathers underneath your arms, just enough so he can move the band of your sports bra up so he could put his warm, wet mouth on the underside of your breasts. You know you must smell like sweat and sunscreen, your clothes still sticking to you, but that seems to just spur Aaron on as he moves up to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue.

“Aaron…” you exhale, pushing your chest into him to chase the wet heat of his mouth as he continues alternating sucking and licking at your nipples, hardening nearly immediately under him. It feels so fucking divine, you don’t think having your nipples played with has ever felt this good. You don’t even want to think about where else he can use his mouth. “Not here…”

He pulls back from your breasts and you’re mesmerized by the spit-slick shine of his lips as he meets your gaze from below you. His hands immediately come to replace his mouth, initially groping at you until thick fingers are grazing over your nipples before gently pinching. “There’s a banquet going on at the front of the club so no one’s coming back here.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent a whimper at the hot pleasure-pain from your breasts, your own hands coming up to tug at the damp hair on the back of his neck. Aaron groans at that, a sound coming deep from within his chest, and he jerkily thrusts his hips up as if they moved of their own accord.

You can feel the line of his hard cock against your inner thigh, so close to where you desperately want him, and your patience wanes thin for just a moment. Of course Aaron checked out the club first before coming back to meet you, as if he was planning on ambushing you behind the country club the entire time.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Aaron says, voice tight as if he was holding himself back from taking you right there on your golf cart with the fuzzy pink blanket on the seat and fairy lights hanging from the dashboard.

You’re tempted take him up on his offer and stop; climbing off his lap and inviting him back to your apartment so you can moan and scream all you want in your very comfortable bed, because Aaron seems like the type of man to want to hear every single noise.

But the thought of both of you being so desperate that you can’t help but rut against each other behind a fancy country club, where you’re at risk of anyone walking around the building and finding you? With your shirt rolled up and Aaron’s fingers nearly pressing bruises against your hips? You really should not find that as intoxicating and hot as you do.

It’s going to be uncomfortable, with the summer sun just barely moving to set over the horizon and your golf cart sometimes being too small even for you. You feel sweat already forming on your upper lip and hair sticking to your neck, internally hitting yourself for not buying that $5 fan that mounts on your dash.

Yet, as you look down at Aaron from where he’s propped his chin on your chest to meet your gaze, somehow looking both cute and ridiculously hot, you knew you couldn’t back out.

“Okay,” you whisper, grinning down at him before your fingers intertwine with his hair again to lean his head back and kiss him.

You think Aaron chuckles but you’re already swallowing it, shuffling somehow closer until the entire line of your body is against his. The top of your head keeps bumping into the roof of the cart and your thighs are already burning from the uncomfortable position of sitting up, but just then you angle your hips differently when you drop down and his bulge rubs against your clit in a way that has you sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, you’d look so pretty riding on my cock,” Aaron breathes against your lips, the grip he has on your waist tightening as he starts to move you up and down on his lap. “I bet you’re so wet for me.”

His left hand trails down your thigh, moving inward, and you squirm when you feel his thick fingers pressing against your cunt, wetness already seeping through your panties and the shorts of your tennis skirt. He briefly rubs through down your slit, spreading the wetness around and causing the fabric to cling to you.

“Is this all for me, pretty girl?” he murmurs, not even giving you the chance to answer before he’s moving the fabric aside to press his hot fingers against your soaked cunt.

You let out a long moan at finally being touched, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable. You try to angle your hips in an effort to get more of his fingers on you, maybe even inside of you, but Aaron annoyingly avoids your hole and instead intently traces them gently through your folds before moving up to rub circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, eyes nearly fluttering shut and your thighs trembling as the tight coil in the pit of your stomach builds so fast it knocks the breath out of you.

Aaron hums. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, at a loss for words as you chase the building pressure. He rubs your clit agonizingly slow, like he wants to prolong this as he intently studies your reactions.

You’re about to beg him to hurry up when he stops and removes his fingers from underneath your skirt. Your breath stutters at the loss of sensation until you notice Aaron holding his hand up to eye-level.

His thick fingers are obscenely drenched in your wetness, nearly glistening. You should feel embarrassed, that you’re so horny for him that you’re getting off at the possibility of being caught, but you don’t. In fact, noticing just how much Aaron is enjoying you enjoying yourself makes you feel even more flushed, more needy.

You lean in to bring his two fingers into your open mouth, swirling your tongue around the rough callouses as your own musky taste infiltrates your senses.

When you look down to meet his eyes, yours no doubt glossed over, he nearly growls as he yanks his fingers out of your mouth and kisses you, tongue prodding against yours. You feel a rumble from his chest as he chases the taste of your pussy in your mouth.

When he pulls back, he has a wild look in his eyes that does nothing to quell the fire in your stomach and the growing ache in your pussy. He runs his hands up and down your sides, nearly reverent, before thrusting his hips up so his cock presses against you. “Do you think you can come like this?”

Honestly, you think you could come in 30 seconds, with the way he grabs and moves your hips so deliciously you swear you could feel every inch of him, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you were giving him the time of day.

“Yes,” you breath, and then Aaron is giving you a wicked grin, something dangerous in his eyes.

He moves you until you’re fully seated on his lap, giving your knees a break, and then moving you back and forth against his cock, the drag of his slacks against the fabric of your shorts rubbing deliciously against your clit, causing you to nearly choke on your own saliva.

You rest your forehead against his, both of you panting, as you start grinding against him. Even through the several layers of fabric, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing in between your cunt and against your clit. You nearly feel dizzy, like the heat was getting to you, as your hands scramble to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

“Just like that, honey,” Aaron pants as you watch a droplet of sweat run down the side of his face through half-lidded eyes. “Make yourself come just like that.”

You’re shamelessly whimpering in between your moans now as you grind against him faster, the tightness in your core growing at the lewdness of his words. Aaron just lets you rut against him, essentially sitting still besides his hands on your hips helping you move back and forth. You feel the stickiness on your inner thighs, a mixture of sweat and your arousal, and you bet if you glanced down, there’d be a wet spot on his slacks. That image in your head sends you reeling and nearly over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

“Come on, sweetie.” Fuck, even the low tone of his voice adds to it, the raspiness giving away how just as equally turned on he was. Your chest is heaving, thighs trembling, and you’re so fucking close. “I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy later, make you come, over and over on my cock.”

Aaron rolls his hips then, and the new angle has the head of his cock pressing against your clit just so that has you gasping, back arching, and you finally fall over the edge as your orgasm hits you like a fucking train.

Your breath is knocked out of your chest, your eyes squeezing shut as you desperately chase the feeling of his cock against your clit as your clench around nothing. You distantly feel Aaron still grinding your hips back and forth as you ride it out, the tight hold he has on your hips just adding to your bliss. The repeated motions eventually become overstimulating, almost too much, but it deliciously adds to your aftershocks and causes you to release a choked whimper.

When you blearily blink your eyes open, Aaron is staring at you like he’s drinking you up, memorizing every little detail about you. The hair at his forehead is curling from the sweat and his face is tinged pink, but his eyes are a pretty molten brown and there’s something soft tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey handsome,” you say breathlessly, giving him a weary smile as you bring your hand up to wipe away the sweat on your own forehead. When you purse your lips, Aaron huffs a laugh and immediately leans in to give you a chaste kiss that does nothing to calm your racing heart.

You feel Aaron languidly move his hips up against you, making you hum against his mouth. When you look down, not only do you see the line of his cock where he’s still impossibly hard, but also a barely visible wet spot on his black slacks. From you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, embarrassment burning hot on your ears.

“I’m not,” Aaron says before his hands come down to swiftly unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and briefs until his cock springs free.

Your mouth instantly waters because fuck, is he big. He’s thick, a drop of precum beading at the slit with a delicious-looking prominent vein that runs on the underside that you can see when he wraps his left hand around his cock and starts jerking himself off.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, your hands twitching from where they’re still on top of his shoulders and eyes zeroing in on his large hand on his cock.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he huffs. “I’m close, just sit there and look pretty.”

You think your brain short circuits, because no way is this man not only okay with you rutting up on him, but also got close enough to coming from watching you come? And now he doesn’t even want you to touch him, he’s okay with just looking at you as he gets himself off?

Your heart thumps erratically because Aaron looks like the absolute definition of sin; hair slightly damp and tousled, his bicep flexing from where he’s erratically jerking himself off, and his chest heaving deliciously. His lips are parted and he’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, your shirt still bunched under your arms and exposing your breasts and your aching thighs wrapped around him.

You lean back against the steering wheel, ignoring how it digs harder into your back, as you decide to flip up your skirt until your clothed cunt is exposed. The piece of fabric is nearly see-through with how wet you are, and you bite your lip when you bring a hand down to move the fabric aside and angle your hips up until your bare pussy was exposed.

Aaron lets out a strangled noise, and you watch in awe as his hand around his cock pumps faster until it’s nearly a blur. You look up to see his eyes trained on your pussy, wet and puffy. The squelching of him fucking into his own hand, so turned on that he was steadily leaking precum from the slit of his cock was so fucking filthy that you felt the beginning sparks of arousal tugging in your abdomen again.

“Are you going to come all over my pussy?” you whisper.

Aaron suddenly lets out a deep and guttural groan, his breath stuttering and hand stilling, before he comes with his head thrown back. You watch, mesmerized, as hot spurts of his come land on your bare pussy, some even catching on your folds as you clench around nothing.

It’s so fucking hot, he’s so fucking hot.

It’s silent while you both catch your breath, the mindless chirping of birds dwindling down as the sun finally starts to set and the air begins to slightly cool.

You pull your shirt down before you lean over to reach for the tissues you usually keep in your purse on the floor. The way you have to twist your body while still on Aaron’s lap is uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he helps you sit back up with hands on your sides.

He wordlessly takes the pack of tissues from your hand to clean you up. He’s meticulous, eyebrows almost comically furrowed in concentration as he makes sure you’re presentable again. When he’s done, he looks around for a trash can and, upon not finding one, he stuffs the tissues in his pocket. You give him a teasing disgusted look, to which Aaron responds by rolling his eyes.

When you climb off his lap with a groan, your hips and knees pop. You stretch your back out a bit by twisting your body back and forth and notice Aaron getting up as well, watching you with a confused, yet fond, expression.

“You’re too young for your body to crack like that.”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, grandpa.”

You’re suddenly being pulled into Aaron’s embrace with a squeal, an arm snaking around your waist, instinctively putting your hands up on his chest as you steady yourself.

“I think I’ve more than shown you that I’m not a grandpa,” he mutters, lowly and directly in your ear, making you nearly swoon against him.

You clear your throat, using him as leverage to push back at him until you’re able to meet his eyes. “Well, not-grandpa, would you be able to wash my cart blanket? Since it was your idea to dirty it up.”

You can tell Aaron is holding himself back from rolling his eyes again. Instead, he chuckles, letting you go so he could grab the fuzzy pink blanket that is actually most likely devoid of any suspicious stains.

“Can I ride in your car?” you ask, giving him a shy smile. “So I can… see how efficient your washer and dryer is? The material for that blanket is very expensive, you know.” Never mind the fact that you got it from Target nor the fact that you drove yourself to the country club.

Aaron obviously sees right through you, not bothering to hold back a soft laugh. Witnessing him joking with you, his guard down, has your heart thumping just a little bit harder.

He stretches his hand out to you, palm up. “Come on, let’s go inspect my house appliances then.”

You place your hand in his, silently giggling to yourself when you notice how large his hand looks compared to yours, and sidle up next to him despite both of you still damp with sweat.

“Let’s go, hot grandpa.”

The laugh that Aaron lets out, soft and sweet, makes you so grateful to your dad for getting you this job.

taglist <3 @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover lmk if you would like to be added!

[xxdedboixx]

~ Selfish (and Jealous) ~

One Piece Captains

How selfish are each of the captains when it comes to your attention? And just how much more selfish they can be when they become jealous.

NSFW for each captain below the red lines.

18+ MDNI

Luffy

Luffy is accidentally very very selfish. It doesn't even really cross his mind that he could possibly be being selfish and if someone brings it up all he thinks to say is "Well I AM a pirate" with a laugh and exaggerated shrug.

He'll just butt into conversations you're having, either running over to show you something cool or just wrapping himself around you in a tight hug to listen in. Maybe he'll even dramatically kiss your cheek just to make you laugh.

When he's intentionally being selfish it's a whole other deal though. He is suddenly one of the most jealous people ever. For example, you might be talking with a captain of another crew or gushing about how strong someone is. As soon as he hears praise for someone else he is right beside you, pouting or otherwise trying to draw your attention. "Hey I'm supposed to be the coolest guy you know" an exaggerated pout is permanently stuck on his face and he's glaring at the other person. If he doesn't manage to draw your attention though he will wrap his arms around you and run off with you (sometimes this is the first step of he's feeling particularly neglected that day).

Jealous of the other captains (Law and Kid mainly)? He will immediately be starting a fight for your affection. You mention one of their attacks is cool? He's immediately showing off the "super secret epic move" he's been "working on" (he probably just made it up completely on the spot). You like their style? He's pouting and grumbling about how his hat is so much cooler.

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When it comes to the bedroom Luffy is yet again accidentally selfish. It's not necessarily a bad things though because the way he is selfish isn't what you may think.

Instead of focusing on his own pleasure he is just so focused on the moment. You have his undivided attention and he is not letting a second go to waste. This also means you need to be focused on him though. Any time he is not touching you is time wasted if you ask him.

He's selfish in terms of not listening to you. Yes how you feel is important but what you say isn't. He is 100% accidentally overstimulating you because he just can't get enough of how you sound.

I also firmly believe that he prefers to focus on you rather than taking care of his own needs. He will only stop touching you when he absolutely can't hold back anymore and even when he is actually fucking you he is still groping you in every way possible.

How about how selfish he would be if someone else was involved? He probably just accidentally ignores them, forgetting they're even there sometimes just because he wants to hear you even more. If he does remember that someone else is there then he's gushing about you and showing off how good he can make you feel. You always have to be the focus of both of their attention, he just won't allow it to be any other way.

Trafalgar Law

Law isn't really selfish but he's not not selfish y'know? He has a good handle on his emotions for the most part so it's rare he actually lets any selfishness or jealousy seep through the calm and smug facade.

He also knows that you wouldn't be dating if you liked anyone else so he doesn't really get jealous.

If he wants your attention then he's probably going to be selfish and immediately ask that you come to his office just to spend time with him, no matter what you're doing. And since he is your captain you have to obey (he likes to pull the captain card a lot). But if he's content just doing his own work then he doesn't really mind letting you do your own thing.

If you're talking to someone else when he wants your attention there's 2 options. Option 1, he calls you into his office, maybe whoever you're talking to even thinks you're in trouble with the way he says your name, but he's actually just tired and needs your attention to refill his battery. Option 2, you're mid conversation and then you're in his room. This is usually much more of a last resort. He might use this method when you are refusing to go to bed or when you're ignoring him for whatever reason.

He knows it's selfish to want you to spend most of your time in his general vicinity but he just can't bring himself to care. You both might like time to yourselves but that doesn't mean you can't have your alone time in the same room.

He doesn't really get jealous when you hang out with other people but he does prefer it if you stay near him, he'll tolerate other people talking to you as long as it remains friendly and if they try to flirt, then you don't flirt back.

When it comes to the other captains (Luffy and Kid) he won't intervene in the dramatic way the others would. He prefers to be more casual, he might just wander over an arm around your waist or shoulder. He isn't one for PDA but sometimes he just has to show off his claim over you. He might even whisper a joke in your ear to irritate the others or make a sly remark about them.

The way he feels when you interact with them could be considered jealousy but he would probably just say that they irritate him and he doesn't want you wasting time on them.

If you mention something cool that the other captains have done, he doesn't do much more than raise an eyebrow at you, maybe it even irritates him but you won't necessarily know until later. If it irritates him enough then... Well check out the NSFW section.

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If you manage to make Law actually jealous then he might just take it out on you in the bedroom. In reference to what I mentioned before. If you talk too highly of the other captains then he is going to tease you endlessly. "Do you think those idiots could make you feel as good as I do?" His fingers might lightly trace over every sensitive place he can think of. "Come on, you talked so highly of them, where's my praise?" He won't let you finish, edging you until you're gasping out apologies. Even then, it's not an apology he's after, it's the satisfaction of knowing that even if they are 'cool', they could never make you feel the way he does.

When you're having sex otherwise he doesn't really seem selfish or jealous. He's actually very giving. Unlike Luffy, he will do whatever you ask him, if you've been good and you ask him nicely enough. He loves it when you beg (I'll probably make another post about this at some point).

I doubt he'd be comfortable with anyone else watching but if it ever did happen then he would be the one completely in control, giving orders. He might be sitting on the other side of the room and instructing them how to treat you, or he might tell them to just watch so he can show off how well he knows you. He's definitely making sure you are the centre of attention.

Eustass Kid

Kid is insanely selfish and very easily made jealous.

He lets his emotions get the better of him so if he's jealous everyone knows (even if he denies it).

He hates when you interact with anyone outside of his crew. Even going as far as making sure you are never sent to go shopping alone. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just prefers that you have a guard dog to make sure no one even thinks of hurting you or trying to take you away.

If he wants your attention then he is going to yell your name and demand that you accompany him, he'll claim he just needs your help if anyone asks but in reality he just wants you by his side. Like how Killer is never too far away, he just likes to know what's going on and prefers to have you close by.

He wouldn't get jealous of his own crew per se (because he trusts his crew and friends a lot) but if he notices you spend more time with anyone in particular he might become more irritable. If you both have down time and choose to hang out with someone other than him he is probably going to seek you out and hang out with both of you. It won't necessarily improve his mood and he'll probably sit there glaring at you both (after all you chose to spend time with someone other than him) but at least he can spend time with you.

The only person he could never be jealous of is Killer because he trusts him completely and I would even go as far as to say that he shares everything with Killer.

Because he's pretty much always keeping an eye on you, the moment one of the other captains gets too close to you he is by your side, hurling insults and taunting them. "Why are you wasting time talking to these losers?" "Get back to work." Any excuse he can make to keep you away from them. Again, he trusts you but he just gets so jealous. The idea of them wasting even a second of your time irritates him beyond comprehension.

If you insist on talking to the captains or compliment them in any way, he becomes insanely angry. You are not spared from his wrath either. If you compliment them when they aren't around then he's just gonna curse under his breath and probably call you an idiot. If you compliment them to their face then he curses and storms off. "Fine if you like their company so much stay here then!" "Fucking idiot, complimenting this trash." Anyone who witnesses him storm off will immediately jump out of the way and probably avoid him for the rest of the day. Eventually if you confront him about it he'll shout about how he's the only one who deserves your praise. He's selfish so the mere thought of you complimenting someone else fills him with rage, those are his compliments, his attention, you are his.

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When it comes to the bedroom his selfish side really shines through. He's going to make sure you enjoy yourself but he's also a bit of a sadist so if he wants you to beg for it then you are going to beg. I also firmly believe he is the king of degrading praise.

"my pretty little whore" "such a good slut for me huh?"

If you've pissed him off then he is going to leave you there without letting you finish. But other times he is still focused mainly on himself but he will consider how good you're feeling, it boosts his ego to know that even when he is the main focus he can still make you feel just as good.

If you've made him jealous then he's going to show you just how much better he is. He will not stop until you are crying out, whimpering that you didn't mean to make him jealous, that he's the only one you admire and that he's the only one who can make you feel so good.

Kid would also probably be the most likely to involve someone else. Obviously the first person to come to mind is Killer but I don't doubt he would also be ok with sharing with a couple other members of his crew (the other two who immediately come to mind are Wire and Heat). As long as it's both of them dominating you then I think he'd be very very into it. He'd give the others tips and taunt you for getting off to the idea of both of them.

Although he's easily made jealous normally, because he has so much control in the bedroom it takes a lot more to make him jealous.

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If you've made it this far thank you very much and please check out my GoFundMe to raise money for my top surgery. I also take requests but will be more inclined to respond if there is any type of donation attached (even just $1 because everything counts)

[littleestkirby]

I don't know if you want this perspective, so I'll put it below a cut, but here's what I can say as a practicing christian who also gets fed up with the church sometimes.

1. I think you may have been mistaught that story; Jesus never refused to heal someone. It could either be (a) the story where he doesn't travel to heal a believer's daughter becaus he heals her from that distance. (Basically, the girl's father said "I know you can heal her from here" and Jesus was impressed by his faith and said "ok I will") or (b) the story where he stops to heal someone else on the way (a bleeding woman who had been cast out from her community) and the girl dies before he gets there. He then raises her from the dead

2. The goal of Christianity is to know God. As someone smarter than me (CS Lewis, maybe?) once put it, "we don't love God because we want to go to heaven, we want to go to heaven because we love God." Basically, heaven isn't a magic rainbow land where everything YOU want comes true, it's a perfect union with god. Following Jesus (in the christian belief, anyway) is the closest you can get to heaven on earth. So, OF COURSE Jesus cares about "good christians" (though the bible says no one person alone is truly good; most who would refer to themselves as "good christians" are... misguided to say the least) Because christianity isn't a pass/fail class where if you feed enough homeless people and don't have sex before marriage, you get to go to rainbowland; it's a personal relationship with your Father/Savior/Creator. That relationship (I believe) DOES make your life better, but not in a "you'll drive a nice car and never get sick" kind of way, but a "you'll be at peace with yourself and those around you" kind of way.

3. Jesus doesn't go out of his way to meet with sinners because they're the ones whose souls are in danger, he goes out of his way to meet with sinners because they actually have the humility to listen. THEY actually WANT to know him and have been kept out of the synagogues. There are no good, already-going-to-heaven people in the bible. The Pharisees (self-appointed and societally recognized "good religious people" in the gospels) are NOT fans of Jesus and they are NOT obeying God; the reason he doesn't seek them out is because they wouldn't have listened. They BELIEVED they were already right about everything, so they were just threatened by his influence instead. They were too busy LOOKING righteous and trying to trap him in doctrine to try to know him or God.

4. Obviously, you don't have to listen to any of this. Of course I can't explain why suffering happens, or why it affects who it does. That's one of like, the main things that the collective efforts of christians through history can't explain. I'm not expecting this to convert you, but just wanted to help you understand why so many people still believe all this despite, yknow. All the suffering and stuff

One of the biggest eye-openers for me back when a I went to church was that like…

Oh man how do I explain it.

There’s this prevalent idea I see a lot in Christian circles that if you pray right, if you follow God correctly, if you’re a truly virtuous person, your problems will be solved, right?

If you suffer, if you fall ill, if bad things happen, it’s because you aren’t good enough. You don’t need medicine because if you’re worthy, if you’re faithful enough, God will reward you by healing you. Right?

But like. Discussing this with my mother, and travelling out east with our pastor… Jesus didn’t spend all his time with perfect, virtuous people. Jesus didn’t seek out and heal well-to-do, faithful, perfect Christians. In fact, there’s a specific story in which he straight up doesn’t travel out to heal a believer’s dying daughter, because she’s already “saved”. Her earthy death is okay because she’s going to heaven already.

And like… coming from our Pastor, who is one of the best guys I’ve ever met- there seems to be an ongoing, underlying message of, “Jesus doesn’t care about you if you’re a good Christian”. If you’re a good Christian, if you’re living a virtuous life on earth, then any suffering you experience is only temporary- your ETERNITY is secure. Jesus goes out of his way to meet with sinners and the unfaithful because those are the people whose souls are in danger.

So like. In that perspective, being good doesn’t make your life better, it’s just good for others and good for your soul. Praying and doing good probably won’t cure your cancer, but it may mean you don’t have to worry too much about your death.

And like. I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself a Christian, but I find myself thinking about that concept a lot

Does suffering mean you deserve a reward?

Is suffering proof that you’re unworthy?

Or is suffering just an unfortunate facet of life that doesn’t reflect on your worth, that you still have to deal with as best you can?

Maybe suffering is just suffering.

Maybe the bad things you experienced weren’t about you

And maybe you just gotta try your best and be kind anyways, so you can rest easy when you go

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hear me out:

Romantic evening with our boys. Making pizza, watching a romantic movie, just cuddling all evening long.

Jonny, all the ever horny guy, starts and it ends with smut. Lots of smut but reader started her period without knowing. They're shocked and first but when reader starts crying, they quick to comfort her.

(I need comfort too. And I'm literally this close 🤏 to rip my uterus out my body)

Thank you for the ask, anon! I had to dig deep for this one because while I enjoy reading the spicy I don't usually write the spicy. I hope this is what you were looking for.

cw: bad accents, vaginal fingering, unprotected PIV, menstruation, rainbow kisses (iykyk)

Ever since you started dating the 141, Friday nights were date nights for you and whomever of your boys were home. Whichever soldier isn't out on a mission gets to pick the event, and if more than one of the boys is around, they each plan something for the group. Their thought was they are so often gone they want to woo you right when they're here.

But the Fridays you love best are when all of your boys are home because that's when you get to plan the date. Tonight happens to be one of those Fridays.

The boys are on base while you make preparations for tonight. You planned to finally use the pizza oven on John's grill. You spend the morning making dough, setting aside double portions for your soldiers and their appetites.

As the day wears on, you head to Sainsbury's for the rest of your ingredients. You get the supplies to make red sauce from scratch and a small jar of pesto for Kyle who sometimes likes to experiment. You know if he doesn't use it tonight, you'll simply make pesto pasta another time. A fresh block of soft mozzarella lands in the trolley. You know Johnny will enjoy happily shreds it for you when he gets home. A jar of olives, some green peppers, and a red onion from produce all go in next. Then you're off to find rashers, gammon, bangers, and pepperoni. You know at least one pizza will end up being more meat than anything else.

When you get back to the car park, you don't bother putting the bags in the boot. You lean over and drop them onto the floor of the passenger side as you slide behind the wheel. A quick stop at the florist for a small bouquet, and you're home again.

The house is tidy, but you freshen things up anyway. You need something to keep you busy as you wait for your men to come home. You set out some Yorkshire pudding and kilted soldiers as a pre-dinner snack, but not too much. You're cognizant of how quickly Johnny will stuff his face with whatever's nearby and not save room for supper. You pull down the large popcorn tubs and set aside the oil and kernels to make popcorn after dinner. You slide Love, Rosie into the Blu-Ray player and cue up the main title.

You have just enough time before your men come home to get yourself cleaned up. You'd showered in the morning, so you focus on fixing your hair and makeup. A pink and blue floral skater dress has been hanging the back of your wardrobe for weeks, and tonight's the perfect night to throw it on and show it off. As you're screwing the cap back into your lip gloss, you hear Simon's voice call out for you.

Light feet and a joyful heart carry you down the hall to the foyer. You step into Simon's open arms, cleaving yourself tightly to him. He's only just back from a mission that lasted almost a month. You kiss him softly, and he pulls away far too soon for your liking. If it were anyone else, you'd be embarrassed by the whine that escapes when he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. Instead, he looks at you and says, "Missed you, luv."

You move from man to man greeting each in turn. From John, who's been back and forth between Hereford and bases in places he can't tell you about, to Johnny, who was on the first part of Simon's mission but came home when Simon was sent elsewhere, to Kyle, who's been behind a desk for the last few weeks as he recovers from nearly falling out of the helicopter. Each gets a hug and a kiss and a whispered welcome home.

You're sure when Kyle is better, Laswell will send them all out somewhere. As it is, you've heard John fielding her calls late in the evening when he tries to hide it from you. For now, you plan to simply savor having your men home.

"Go on, wash up," you chide, shooting them from the foyer to the cloakroom. "Meet me in the kitchen when you're done."

It only takes a few quick strides until you're in the room in question, making sure that all the toppings are ready, that the sauce is cool enough to use, and that each dough ball has its own pizza pan. Each of the men join you in the kitchen mere moments later.

You don't miss the gleam in Johnny's eye as he looks at the flour. He cuts a glance at Kyle, and you clear your throat, crossing your arms as menacingly as you can. "We will not be intentionally making a mess of my kitchen," you state, looking between Johnny and Kyle. "Are we clear sergeants?"

Shock flits across Johnny's face and he looks back at Kyle who simply shrugs. The two men glance at John who, like you, has crossed his arms in front of him and is ready to glare them into submission. "I'm waiting, boys," you remind them.

Kyle responds quickly. "No mess. We heard you'd, doll." To which John adds, "Aye, ma'am. Keeping the kitchen spick and span."

"Excellent," you say. Then you pass out aprons and tell your men, "I'd rather not scrub flower out of anyone's clothes, either, so put these on." There's a chorus of "Yes, ma'am." You can tell at a glance the only one happy about the apron is John, who's got his usual 'License to Kill Grill' apron on. However, the others don't fight you, and soon everyone's ready to make their meal.

You show them all how to turn the dough balls into flat crust and head out into the garden to turn the grill on. The pizza oven is set up according to the directions, and you want to ensure it's ready to go once all the pizzas are prepared.

When you come back into the kitchen, all four men have at least one crust ready, and Simon and Kyle are working on their seconds. You quickly put Johnny to work shredding the cheese into a large bowl and show everyone where the sauces are. Much to your delight, Kyle smiles widely at the jar of pesto on the counter. The cheese is ready once everyone has sauce on their dough, so everyone grabs a heaping handful. You point out where the other toppings are and let the boys design their dinners as you take your pizza out to the oven.

Each man brings you their pan when it's ready and they stand around chatting with you while the food cooks. You pull the first round of pizzas out and send John in to put everything out on plates and slice them. You put Kyle's and Simon's and Johnny's second pizzas in, then head into the kitchen to eat.

You slide into the open seat next to Simon and join the pleasant chatter. John pulls three tumblers and the bottle of Scotch Mrs. MacTavish sent at the holidays out of the cupboard. He pours two fingers for himself, Simon, and Johnny. Kyle pulls the top off a bottle of Carlsbad lager, pulling a long draught before setting it in front of him. Johnny places a glass of rose at your place.

Between bites of pizza, you fill the boys in on the gossip from work and hear some edited stories of Simon and Johnny's ops and John's base visits. Kyle chimes in with complaints about base staff.

You pop out to the grill for the second round of pizzas, bringing everyone but John their food. You and John both opted for one pizza and are both enjoying the meal and the company.

When everyone is full, Simon and Kyle pack up the unused toppings, John clears the table, and Johnny puts the large cast iron skillet on the hob. You stay in the kitchen with Johnny while the others head into the den. He pours a generous helping of oil in the pan and tosses the kernels on when it warms. It doesn't take long for the kernels to pop, and despite knowing what will happen, it still startles you.

Johnny chuckles at you, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Ah got ye," he says, nuzzling your neck. He reaches over, snags a kernel and holds it out. When you lean forward to take it from him, he pulls it back. "Uh-huh," he teased. "Close your eyes."

You obey, but instead of the warm, salty, buttery crunch of popcorn, Johnny's tongue invades your mouth. He swallows your moans, whispering, "Could a laid yerself on the table an' we would'a feasted, lass." He pulls away, an obscene sucking accompanying the motion. Your heart jackhammers in your chest. You're about to suggest skipping the movie when several voices call from the other room.

"Let's... let's, er, go join the others," you pant, quickly dumping the popcorn into tubs to carry in.

By the time you and Johnny make it to the den, Kyle and John are sprawled together on the sofa, and Simon's taking up the recliner. You and Johnny head to the loveseat, and he pulls you down into his lap.

Before the open credits finish, Johnny's nuzzling your neck and whispering more filth in your ear. "Ah cannae wait to fuck ye tonight, hen." "Gonna split ye open on mah cock 'til ye scream." "Yer cunt is the sweetest dessert. When can Ah have a taste?" The longer the film goes on, the wetter you get until you're squirming on Johnny's lap, hoping you aren't obvious to the others.

The heavy weight of Johnny's hand slips from your waist to your hips, and eventually, under your skirt. His fingers slip under the gusset of your panties and you gasp. "Shh," he coos. "Dinnae want to interrupt the film."

He slides one finger along your slit, teasing you before breaching your core. You groan low, and Johnny rumbles, "Yer so wet," into the skin beneath your ear. "Watch the movie, lass. Ye picked it special."

With one long finger in your pussy, Johnny's thumb presses hard on your clit, and you see stars. "Would rather," you pant, "focus on," another panted breath, "those talented fingers."

Johnny lightly bites down on your neck and shoves another finger into your pussy. You clamp down at the unexpected intrusion, and Johnny's thumb ruba little circles on your clit. Between the sucking on your neck, the fingers in your cunt, and the pressure on your clit, you climax quickly, biting your lip to keep from letting the rest of the room know what happened.

But when you glance at your other lovers, they're staring avariciously at you and where Johnny's hand disappears under your dress. Johnny shifts behind you, clearly turning to see the others. "Who wan's a taste?"

Kyle's off the sofa in a shot, kneeling on the floor next to Johnny. Johnny pulls his hand out from under your dress to press his slick-coated fingers into Kyle's waiting mouth. You glance down to watch and notice Johnny's fingers are covered in blood. You suck in a breath and grab his wrist. It hits you immediately what's happened.

"Johnny! Stop!" You look down and see Kyle's gaze land on the blood. He leans back and nearly falls down.

"Doll, wha'..." John and Simon are watching intently, and you want the ground to open under you.

You take a deep breath and cover your face with your hands. You can't bring yourself to look at any of them. "I think I got my period early." You spring off Johnny's lap and hurry down to your bedroom, trying not to cry. In your room, you strip out of your dress and see a small red spot on the seat of the skirt.

Before you can spiral into embarrassment, there's a knock behind you. You're standing stark naked, but there's no heat in his gaze when John looks at you. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, but the tears are welling up. "Aww, shh," John says. "'c'mere." He comes over to you and wraps his arms around your bare middle. "Dove, we're soldiers. We're not scared of a little blood." You don't think he realizes he's gently swaying you as he talks. It's soothing.

"But that's different, John," you whine. "This blood, this is dirty."

"Hush," he snaps. "Nothin' 'bout ya is dirty." He tucks your head under his chin and kisses your hair. "Ya think this makes us wan' ya any less?" He pulls back and taps your chin until you meet his solid blues. "Say the word an' all a' them'd be linin' up to fuck ya." He moans a little. "Can only imagine how good it would feel, yer cunt coated in somethin' even hotter than regular slick. Ya should hear Johnny out their praisin' yer pussy."

You feel heat rush up your neck and into your cheeks. "You really," you take a deep breath, "you don't think it's gross?"

The answer doesn't come from above you but from behind. "Nothin' you do is gross, luv," you hear Simon say. Now you know he's there, he isn't quiet about crossing the room. His large, calloused hands dwarf your hips when he pulls you tight against him. "I'd let ya ride my face for the pleasure of gettin' ya off, blood an' piss an' all."

It should disgust you, but you swoon a bit instead. You turn in his hands. "I can't believe you're okay with this."

"What's there not to be okay with?" Kyle's voice asks from the doorway. You look over Simon's shoulder and see him leaning against the jamb with smudge of blood on his lip.

"Kyle, what happened?" You know you sound panicked, but you can't reign it in. "You have..." You motion to your own mouth.

Kyle ducks his head and rubs his hand over the shorn back of his hair. "I, er, maybe still sucked your slick off Johnny's fingers." He catches your eye. "Any taste of you is worth it."

You're shocked at his admission. Before you can say anything, you hear Johnny's voice in the hallway. "Ye cannae start without me!" He barrels into the room and you notice a sheet of red on his lips.

"What?"

He flushes and admits, "Ah kissed Gaz ta see how ye tasted, since Ah couldnae taste from the source."

You're dumbfounded. Nothing in their demeanor tracks with what you've been told. When you were thirteen, Mum said your period was "a necessary evil." In school, the teachers spoke of biology and creating a space for new live, and while it wasn't disgusting, it wasn't appealing either. All your previous partners found other things to do with other friends when you had your period. But looking around at the faces of your lovers, all you can see is love and desire. There is no disgust, no revulsion, no recoiling.

"Dove?" John's voice breaks you from your reverie. He stands beside you and Simon still again, but now he'd discarded his shirt. The top button of his trousers is undone, and you could see his cloth-covered erection straining the zipper. You understand immediately what he's asking, and you dip your head once.

Arms scoop you up and deposit you in the bed. You're surprised by the scratchy feeling beneath you. You run your hand over it and realize it's a bath towel. A bark of laughter escapes you. "You boys pivoted quick, huh?"

John leans over you, growling in your ear. "We wan' ta enjoy ya. And even more, we wan' ya ta enjoy yerself." His hands ghost up and down your sides, the touch featherlight. "I'm gunna kiss ya now, dove."

"Okay," you reply breathlessly. John's kiss is possessive, tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim you as one beefy hand strokes over your curves. His lips start against yours and slowly drift to your neck, your collarbone, your sternum, your stomach, and finally right above your bush. He looks up and meets your gaze, holding it as he dips further down to like a stripe up your slit.

When he pulls back, you see the bright burst of red on the top of his tongue. Then he plants his face in your cunt, tonguing your hole and sucking on your clit. You start thrashing only to feel the bed dip at your hip. Simon and his big hands are back, one heavy on your hip to keep your bucking down, the other running softly along John's head as he slurps obscenely at your sopping, bloody pussy.

John's pursuit of your pleasure is relentless. There is no edging tonight, no long drawn-out teasing. He is a Captain through and through, and tonight's mission is your orgasm. Before long your muscles clench, and the tension in your core snaps. You're twitching on the bed, breathing slowly to bring your heart rate down, when you look down to see John's beard covered in a milky red mixture of blood and cum.

He rubs a hand down his beard, collecting some of the mixture, then holds his hand to Simon. With his eyes holding yours, Simon leans over and licks the mess on John's hand before Johnny shoves him back to get another, more potent taste of you.

You're so distracted by Simon and Johnny fighting over the remains of your taste on John's skin, John has moved nearer to your hip, and Kyle's slotted himself into the space between your thighs. His long, lithe fingers smooth themselves across your thighs, hips, and stomach. "Can I?" he whispers.

Despite the other men sitting at your hip, you respond with a whispered, "Yes."

Kyle pushes himself to the hilt in one fell swoop. He doesn't hold back how he feels. "Fuck, doll, didn't know you could feel better," he grinds out. He waits a moment for you to adjust until he, like John, chases your pleasure. Each of Kyle's thrust is a long slow retreat before slamming home. He has one hand resting on your mons, thumb just lightly over your overstimulated clit. Every time his hips slam home, Kyle puts a lot more pressure against your clit. Soon he loses his rhythm, thrusts becoming erratic, fingers pulsing against your clit. You climax as he does, and when he pulls out you aren't sure if the liquid that follows us blood or cum, and if the latter, whose.

He flops beside you and throws an arm over his face as you disassociate. You hear Johnny whine and Kyle chuckle, and when you look over, Johnny's on his knees, Kyle's cock in his mouth. There's a lurid ring of red at Kyle's base that Johnny's spit makes messier.

Your eyes slip closed, and you feel the bed continue moving under you. Glancing on your other side you see Simon on his knees, John slamming into him. You catch Simon's eye and shift on the bed to kiss him. John pauses his movements enough to keep Simon from accidentally collapsing on you. After a moment, John grunts. You know he can't keep holding back, so you slide away from Simon to let John continue. Several thrusts later and John's sweaty form is draped against Simon's back.

You hear Kyle's choked moan and know he's close. Johnny has one arm perpendicular to Kyle's hips, pinning him in place while his other is below the edge of the bed. You're sure he's stripping his cock to match his mouth's movements on Kyle. When Kyle cums, Johnny swallows everything down, only a drop beading on his lip. He sees you looking, and instead of licking it away, he leans over to let you lick it off. When you sweep your tongue into his mouth, searching out the taste of him under the flood of Kyle, Johnny slips his cock into your warm, wet cunt. He thrusts half a dozen times before cumming, shouting your name. He's careful not to drop his weight on you, instead falling into the space next to you and tucking you against his larger frame.

You know you need to clean yourself up, especially if you don't want too much blood on the towels or sheets, but you're too blissed out to worry.

Date nights with all your boys are the ones you like best.

[muletia]

this isn't a request especially as I see you doing write for rescue bots, but rather there is a rescue bots specific piece of information I'm not sure you know, which is that the bots canonically get jealous when their human partners ride in other vehicles, especially vehicles that have their same function, and I can't think of any good reasons for that to happen in like tfp but I think the canon of at least one continuity (esp bc rescue bots is connected to prime) lining up kind of perfectly with your obsessed/yandere verse is so fun, I love your writing sm

I didn’t know that, thanks for the fun fact! (Man, I really need to catch up on Rescue Bots, I’ve heard it’s a good show.) By the way, the fact that Rescue Bots, Prime, RID, and the Cybertron games are all part of the same continuity is wild 💀

I think the jealousy over vehicles would mostly come from younger bots, specifically Smokescreen and Bumblebee. I mean, they have such cool alt modes. People love sports cars, right? You’ve complimented their choice of car models so many times, you’ve appreciated their speed, and you love how they drive you everywhere; so why would you keep using your own car? They’re always at your beck and call! They’d even wait for hours outside your workplace so you’d never have to use your car again <3. In their case, even just admiring some interesting sports car is a bad idea because they’d immediately get jealous and do everything they can to show you they’re better than that pile of scrap (you almost got a speeding ticket). Afterward, they’d demand cuddles to cheer up and beg with puppy-like optics for you to promise them you won’t ride in other cars anymore. You’ll promise, right?

I think Starscream could also feel jealous sometimes, but his reasoning would be more along the lines of: I’m faster and better than that pathetic automobile you drive, so you must stop using it. He doesn’t grasp that humans generally don’t use fighter jets to get to work or the store, so your insistence on keeping your car would seriously wound his ego. He’d also complain endlessly about your choice of transportation, never letting it go until you either cave in or just learn to live with his constant bitching about how you don’t need any other means of transportation besides him and how you’re an idiot if you think otherwise.

[sammsays]

Which would you say hinders the establishment of operant conditioning more, presenting the stimulus without prompting the desired response or prompting the response and not presenting the stimulus? I’m struggling with getting it to work. For normal reasons.

I would say, "presenting the stimulus without prompting the desired response".

Lengthy explanation of Operant Conditioning and how to use it below!

A common mistake in hypnosis and conditioning would be to give the reward or stimulus in general too frequently. In operant conditioning, we have what are called "schedules of reinforcement", which speak to frequency and technique in the timing of providing stimuli.

Providing the reward every time would be called "Continuous Reinforcement". This is a fine method of conditioning, but it is far from the most effective.

Partial Reinforcement Schedules are any means of conditioning that don't provide the stimuli every single time.

Fixed Ratio & Fixed Interval

Charts used from helpfulprofessor.com.

Fixed schedules suffer from a relatively predictable problem.

Fixed Ratio schedules are when a stimulus is provided after a certain number of behaviors are completed.

Fixed Interval schedules are when a reinforcement stimuli is provided at regular intervals (say, every hour).

The issues with Fixed schedules comes in the fact that we are aware of things (sadly). If a pattern is predictable, then we are both able to anticipate when it's about to happen, lessening the impact of the reward, and we know that right after the stimuli is finished, we won't be getting another one for a predictable amount of time.

Not only are there often lulls immediately after the stimuli, but the conditioning holds far, far weaker than both continuous and the other type of partial schedule.

When the stumuli stops being provided at the regular time (that singular moment being the only time where it feels possible), then its far easier for that anticipation to be flipped on its head and have a very negative impact, very quickly undoing any progress.

As a solution, we have...

Variable Ratio & Variable Interval

Charts used from helpfulprofessor.com.

Variable schedules are deeply, deeply effective. This is how gambling becomes addictive to people, but also how many other things are conditioned into creatures.

The one you should choose depends on what it is that you want to do.

Variable Ratio

This is the schedule you should follow if you want to enforce a behavior that you want to happen often. An example in the hypnosis sphere (most especially my hypnosis sphere) would be getting someone to start barking as part of their regular means of talking and typing.

All that is necessary to do is encourage the behavior initially, start the engines with rewards (either hypnotic triggers or just praise), and to only do it sometimes and at random.

Variable Interval

This is the schedule you should follow if you want to enforce a more continuous behavior that you want to happen steadily. This would be something more like obedience, giving a reward for good behavior at random, but importantly within a reasonably similar range each time.

You can't do it one hour then 48 hours later then 12, you should have something like a range of variance and stick to that, so long as the exact timing is not anticipatable.

This can also be done for singular behaviors like barking, if you wish for the conditioning to be much slower, and also to simply not be related to an amount of times being done.

Both methods build conditioning that takes a very, very long time to undo or fall away. In the case of many behaviors, unlike what is shown in the charts, they can become a near-permanent part of someone's existence, never quite going away without active efforts to do so.

If you get someone to bark consistently, and they do not have a reason for it to stop, it will become a part of themselves in a way deeper than you may ever expect.

As a fair warning, these methods of conditioning, as stated prior, are essentially forming an addictive loop for someone. It is not nearly so strong as gambling in most cases, but with the wrong person, the wrong environment, and the wrong precautions, you can steer into very unhealthy territory very, very quickly.

...it can be quite fun to condition people, though.

So, to again answer the original question: not only is "prompting the response and not presenting the stimulus" perfectly okay to do, it's actually better than doing it every single time.

Follow me for more interesting posts, and do ask me more questions. I'm telling you to do it. Be good and come up with something, okay?

I'll see you later! ^w^

[writingsbychlo]

A THIN LINE | LORENZO BERKSHIRE

SUMMARY: there's a pretty thin line between hate and love and enzo is coming right up against it. WORD COUNT: 2782 NOTES: this might actually be one of my favourite pieces I've written, can't say why? I just realised I was in love with it as I wrote it so I hope you all love it too!

Lorenzo Berkshire hated Valentine’s Day. 

He hated commitment, he hated romance, he hated the idea of a stupid day dedicated to public announcements of love stories that would most likely end in tragedy. He hated the concept of monogamy, but if he dug deeper, he could probably sum that up to some kind of traumatic backstory. 

He didn’t like to disguise himself by his parents, he was his own damn person and he wasn’t like them, but a therapist would probably say otherwise. Somewhere between the emotionally abusive mother who was so dedicated to his adulterous, physically abusive father that their only son’s wellbeing fell to nothingness, well, a therapist would probably have something to say about that. 

Suffice it to say, that Lorenzo Berkshire didn’t do love. 

He did sex. He did it well. He was charming and flirty and he knew exactly how good-looking he was. With his perfect hair and his pretty smile and the gazes that made men and women alike go weak in the knees. He knew how to get what he wanted, and it worked on everyone he set his mind to. 

He didn’t do love. 

At least, this inner turmoil was exactly what he was trying to convince himself of as he lay on his back, still flushed a soft pink along his face and chest. His lungs were still burning a little to catch his breath, and his muscles were sore in the most exquisite way, his body thrumming in the aftershock of pleasure. 

He was always on Theodore’s arse about his smoking habits, but he wished he had one now. Maybe it would be something else to do with his hand rather than keep stroking your hair, maybe it would be something to do with his mouth to stop him leaning in and pressing another kiss to the top of your head as you lounged on his chest. 

You stirred, your leg flexing where it was thrown over his own, soft skin that had been perfumed with florals and sugars that had made his head spin was still soft as it slid against his own. He could still feel the warmth of your skin against his lips, the pulse of your racing heartbeat when he’d kissed across your neck. 

He’d left marks. You hated when he did that, but he couldn't help himself. Some deep, sick, twisted part of himself got a thrill out of the fact you’d spent Valentine’s Day with him. Even if he hated it, everyone else would know. You could scrub away his touch and layer new perfumes over the smell of his cologne on your body, you could change your clothes and sneak back to your dorm with an excuse to the girls waiting up for gossip, but you would never be able to hide the blossoming prints he left with his mouth, or the swell of your lips, or the tremble in your step from the way he’d fucked you. 

No. That would stick with you for days. 

You shifted again, groaning a little as you stretched, and Enzo’s heart dropped in his chest. Only moments later, you lifted your head, and scrunched your nose up in that adorable way as you came back around. 

“Did I fall asleep again?”

His lips twitched up at the edges, and he popped a hand behind his head, peering down at you. Twisting that smile into a smirk, he shrugged. “I guess I just wore you out.”

You laughed lightly, a sound that he wanted tattooed to the inside of his mind, a sound he wanted to set as his ringtone, his alarm clock, to hear every morning and every night. That, and the way you so reverently whispered his name when he’d kissed you hours ago. 

It went this way every time. He’d slip you a note, or you’d give him a coy look across the room. Sometimes, it started with a party. It didn’t really matter how it started, only that it ended with the two of you stumbling into bed, your soft moans in his ear as he buried his face into your neck, the breathy call of his name as he sent you to paradise over and over. For almost a year this arrangement had been going on, and at first, he hadn't been sure why it was you he kept coming back to. Why you made him break his one-night-only rule so many times he’d lost count. 

But then he’d just given up caring. 

Now, he just let himself sink further, he could no longer see the surface. He just waited for the rays of your sunlight to break through the ripples, to warm him as he lay on the bottom of the lake, drowning over and over again. 

Hours ago the sun had risen, when you’d shyly asked him what his plans for the night were, and promised to come by later when he confirmed he had none. Now, he was waiting for the sun to set once again. 

You’d say something like—

“I should get going, it’s getting late and my roommates will start to wonder where I am.”

There it was. 

He fought to keep the grin on his face, not to let it show. Instead, he just nodded, taking a moment longer to convince the arm banded tightly around your waist to let go. Slipping away, he fisted his hand into the sheets instead, watching as you rolled away from his side He felt cold where you left, and tugged up the covers a little more to cover himself, like suddenly he was too exposed to let you see him if you turned. 

He let his gaze sweep over you, open and adoring while your back was turned. Gathering up your clothes, you didn’t look back at him until you were tugging your t-shirt back over your head. Twisting on your heel to look at him, you let a smile crawl up your face. 

“What are you looking at?”

“You.” He said before he could stop himself. With a chastising groan, he rolled back into the bed, turning his back to you and rubbing a hand down his face. You laughed again, that sound would be his undoing, he was sure, and then your smaller hand was crawling over his shoulder. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was sweet.”

He wasn’t embarrassed the way you thought he was, but you were giving him an out, and he would damn sure take it. He just nodded, bashfully, an act he’d gotten good at putting on, and swung his legs over the bed. Swiping his boxers from the floor, he tugged them up, and let his elbows rest on his knees as he sat back on the mattress. 

There was a question tugging at his lips as he watched you free your hair from the collar of your shirt. You were so beautiful and so kind. Everything you did felt like the acts of a saint to him, you could be a religion and he’d fall to his knees to worship. You did something to him, something he’d never felt before. It was all-consuming, life-altering, suffocating and terrifying. And the longer he stared, the harder it became to hold back the words clawing up his throat. Until he gave up fighting it. Something he seemed to be getting a little too good at these days. 

“Why were you alone this evening?” The words broke out, the sound of his own ragged voice shattering the peaceful silence in his room. The smile on your face melted away, you weren’t mad or hurt, just neutral, perhaps even curious, as you shrugged. 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He pushed, and you only stared, a piercing gaze that cracked him in two with ease. You wanted an answer, and he wanted to give you anything you wanted. “I don’t like Valentine’s Day. I think it’s a contrived attempt to get money out of poor suckers who don’t understand that it’s probably never going to last anyway.”

You only blinked at him, registering his words, before your lips twitched at the side, and you offered him a small smirk. “Wow. Someone certainly hates love.”

Love. 

There was that word, that one that made him feel like there was a rope around his neck, a hand wrapped around his heart, choking the life out of him. “But to answer your question, I wasn’t alone this evening. I was with you.”

“I’m sure I wasn’t your first plan.” He wouldn't get his hopes up, he refused to let something so poisonous into his mind willingly, “I bet you were hoping a nice lad would ask you out, take you for dinner and woo you, before taking you back to his dorm, buy your affections. Instead, they missed out, and here you are, giving to me freely.”

There was a bite to his voice, and your brows furrowed. Perhaps he’d pushed it too far, it wouldn't be the first time, you’d leave and ignore him for a day or two and he would convince himself the world wasn’t ending. Then, he’d pull you into some hidden corner and kiss apologies into your mouth as he soothed away your anger. 

You just shook your head at him and stayed silent, and somehow that was worse. 

“Right. Okay. Well, then, I’m leaving if we’re done here. I’ll get right on looking for that nice guy.”

He watched you walk, and felt his heart rate ratchet up with every step you took closer to the door, to leaving, and this time, it was all just too much. This time, he kicked off the sandy lake floor and swam for the surface. “Don’t.”

He’d shot to his feet, so fast he felt dizzy as you turned to face him, and you only raised a brow in silent question. 

“Don’t… go. Or don’t find a nice guy. I’m sorry, I’ll be nicer. I don’t know what I— just… don’t.” 

Your fingers twitched on the door handle as he cursed himself for his rambling mess. He’d never stumbled his way through a stance like that before, he was normally the smooth one. Now, he felt sick, and anxious, fizzes and pops of cold anxiety he could feel all the way to his fingertips as he waited. 

Your hand tightened around the door handle, before sliding away. 

“What do you want from me, Enzo?” You sounded tired as you sighed the words out, and he didn’t want that exhaustion to be because of him, it sounded bone-deep and emotional. But, he knew it was. “Give me a reason to stay, to stay with you. Because it’s Valentine’s Day, and here I am, spending it with you. My first choice. I chose you over romance and flowers and being made to feel special. I chose you and your bedsheets over a pretty dress and compliments. I chose you, and yet, all you’re doing is pushing me away.”

“I’m sorry.” His hand clutched at his chest, rubbing at the place just left of his sternum where it ached inside, his throat stinging. “I don’t know what I want. I just… I want you to stay. I want to know you’ll stay, and that you won’t be with someone else. I want you all the fucking time, it’s not normal! I want you by my side, I want you to keep laughing at my jokes and nobody else, I want you to kiss me and get me to shut up, because I can’t find the words to say it, all I know is how I feel, and—”

You did as he asked, much to his surprise. Your nails pressed lightly into the sides of his neck as you kissed him, nibbling on his lower lip cheekily. His hands slipped once again around your waist, and the tight pressure that felt like it had been slowly leeching his life away finally subsided. 

He stole kisses, again and again, until you were making that angelic sound he loved and pulling back. 

“Say it again.”

“What, all of it? I can’t remember it all.” He mumbled, in a daze, swaying closer to bump his nose into yours. 

“No, just the part about having feelings for me.”

He raised a hand, so big compared to you, and brushed it over the side of your head, holding you gently. Godric, did you have any idea how precious you were to him? No, because that would require him actually saying it. “Of course I have feelings for you, honey. I just don’t know what they are. They’re fucked up, mean and possessive. I want all your time, I want all your attention. I want to punch other guys when they’re near you, I want to smell your fucking hair like some kind of sap, I want to keep you locked by my side until the end of the fucking world so no one else can get to you because you’re… mine.”

You didn’t recoil, you didn’t scare off. Instead, you chuckled at him, blinking up at him with amusement like he’d told another joke. He wasn’t perfect in this moment, he was exposed and ragged and raw. He was the most vulnerable, open version of himself, and you should be running. 

But you weren’t. 

“Enzo, you really don’t know what that is? It’s exactly what I feel too.” The breath was rushed from him, as you took his hand and rested it over your heart, leaning in to kiss his cheek between breathy laughs. “You stupid, endearing man. There’s nothing wrong with you, Enzo.”

“There’s not?”

“No.” You smiled, pecking his lips again, and his eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering to chase your kiss because just for half a second, it felt so different. “You know the name. Four little letters. Don’t let it freak you out too much.”

Love.

It did freak him out. It made him want to spiral and scream and tear at his hair. It made him want to rage and cry and kick something. But, you were still here. So, perhaps, it also made him want to hold you tight, protect you from the world, spend the rest of his life devoted to you and spring you. It was crippling and horrid, and intoxicating.

“I love you.” He mumbled, and this time, your eyes did widen. Just for a second. But he said it again, let the words sit heavy in his mouth, let himself get used to the feel of them. He’d never said it before. Not to his parents, his friends, or even a pet. But the more he said it, the less power it had over him. It stopped feeling like a gun to his head but felt more like a baby bird in his hands. Precious, fragile, a living gift to be protected, not a death sentence. “I love you.”

He wasn’t sure how many times he’d said it now, but it seemed you believed him, as you threw your arms around his neck. Shiny eyes closing, hot tears leaking down your cheeks and your kiss tasted of salt this time, but he didn’t mind. Not as he wiped those tears away, and kissed you back with everything he had. 

He hoped you could still hear the words running through his mind, even as his mouth was occupied. Could you feel his love in this kiss, did it feel different to you too, now?

Huh. Hope.

Maybe that wasn’t so bad either. 

He got it now, with the smile on your face, the way the simplest of things, a few murmured words, a few sounds and syllables strung together had created that look of sunshine. The kind of ethereal blessing that made him feel like he’d been absolved, a miracle that chased out the dark. He got it. 

Perhaps now he understood why people enjoyed the chance to proclaim their love, to make hopeful promises for the future in a desperate plea to ensure it happened. He would do it too, next year. He’d make sure there was a next year to celebrate, and one after that, and that, and onwards. 

As you kissed him, and your lips brushed his own softly as you mumbled those words back into his mouth, he got it. His hand slipped up, tangling in your hair and his mouth slanted across your own, drowning in the taste of heaven on your tongue as you slipped it along his lower lip, he got it. 

There was a thin line between love and hate. Lorenzo Berkshire loved you, and maybe, now, he could love Valentine’s Day too. 

[xiaq]

Would you ever write a story or book about Kuzy? I need more of himmmm ❤️ one of the few characters I'd read MF for though I feel like if anyone would be chill about finding out he was bi and going with it, it'd be Kuzy lol #yeshomo

@rainbowsandcoconut

I don't currently have any substantive plans for a Kuzy story, but if you want some of my brainworms about him/his eventual romance, here you go:

He lives right next to a firehouse and there's a cute, kickass firewoman (cis, leans androgynous) named Nicole "call me Nic" with whom he has occasional banter-moments (I used to live next to a firehouse and if they were out front they'd always chat with me when I walked the dog; I loved that community dynamic).

One night after a rough game, Kuzy is going for a walk and Nic is sitting out on a lawn chair in front of the house processing a rough call, and they have a moment of shared vulnerability together, looking up at the stars. She's the child of immigrants and they bond over how stupid the English language is. Kuzy tells her about Eli/Hawk and she mentions that she loves dogs but can't have one with her work schedule.

Over the next few days, Kuzy can't stop thinking about her. He wants an excuse to see her more often that doesn't feel creepy, so he goes to the shelter nearby and offers to exercise dogs. Now, he has a perfectly good reason to walk past the firehouse (sometimes multiple times a day!) on the off-chance the firefighters are out and he can politely offer a dog's brief company for Nic's enjoyment.

Except he's not super smooth about it because the rest of the folks at the house realize pretty quickly that the giant Russian walking dogs only happens to walk dogs on the days that Nic is on shift.

Convenient.

This continues for longer than it probably should. Until Kuzy is hosting some of the Hounds and one of the rookies does something stupid. Not sure what. I'm thinking gets his hand stuck in an expensive vase. Or maybe his head. And Kuzy very sheepishly has to walk him over to the firehouse like, "hello, this baby is my responsibility, can you please rescue him?" And they eventually get the thing cut off of his hand/head/whatever but one of Nic's bros pulls Kuzy aside and says, "maybe you should just ask her out instead of coming up with increasingly more creative excuses to talk to her—at this rate someone is going to get hurt" and Kuzy is like, “ok, this was 100% not contrived and while I would like to go out with her, she is a goddess who saves lives and I am but a goofy athlete, undeserving of her attentions," and Firefighter Bro like, "you know, I think she'd settle for you."

So, spurred on by this bit of hope, he's like, "I need to do this right, this can't just be some hookup, I like her." And he starts Operation Woo Nic.

And the whole time Nic is like, "would you just fucking take me home, I would like to bang you," but he's trying so hard to be a gentleman about it that she lets him for a while. She's never been woo'ed before. Might be fun. Eventually she gets fed up and when he's dropping off cookies or whatever on his daily dog-walk she's like, "hey, do you want to be my boyfriend? Yeah? Great. We should have sex about that. My shift ends in three hours, what's your address?"

It is possibly the best day of Kuzy's life.

Anyway. As usual, there's no real plot, just vibes. But he is Smitten. And she is hopelessly endeared. And she's certified as a paramedic, so she's constantly ragging him for his little injuries and keeping him honest about PT. At some point she gets injured in the line of duty and he gets to be suitably dramatic and probably make declarations at her hospital bedside. He dotes on her for a while during her recovery.

And eventually he convinces her to move in with him so she can be close to work and she's like, "yeah? That's the only reason? For the ease of my commute?" And he says, "well that but also because I love you more than I thought was possible and when we're not together I miss you like a limb and our schedules are shit enough as it is, I'm greedy for every second I can have with you," and she's like, "yeah, fair enough."

So. Not really sure how it would end, but uh. There you go! Kuzy and his Firefighter Lady. Also he definitely foster-fails multiple times and hires a full-time nanny to take care of all his and Nic's dogs when she's on shift and he's traveling. It's great.

AND I imagine some very funny cultural confusion moments when her family (Japanese) interacts with his family (Russian) but they all generally bond over their shared love of fermented foods and dumplings. And alcohol. There are hijinks.

Ok. The End!

[mrsshabana]

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ♡ 𝐄𝐦𝐨!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Emo!Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, college au, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Sorry I'm posting this so late, I had almost no time to write it so it's very rushed. But I wanted to give everyone something to read today even though it's short. Happy Valentine's Day!

God, did Gyutaro hate Valentine's Day.

Everything about it disgusted him. From the bright colors and sweet smells to the mushy feelings and love confessions. Thinking about the horrid day made him gag.

It didn't make sense to him. Half of these people who celebrate Valentine's Day together will be broken up before the year ends. So what's the point? Haven't they learned yet that love is a facade that only ends in a broken heart?

Maybe that's the emo in him speaking, but can you blame the boy for feeling that way?

His heart has never beat for another. To be honest, most people would be convinced that his heart doesn't beat at all. From his never-ending brooding attitude and his overtly emo attire.

Love isn't something he often thinks about. But deep down he does fantasize about having someone to love, especially around this time of year. That's why you'll rarely see him leave his dorm during February, except for attending mandatory classes of course.

Seeing all of these couples holding hands and being all lovey-dovey, a part of him yearns for it. Sure they are probably inevitably destined to end in heartbreak. But sometimes he wonders if experiencing love is worth the heartache. Maybe that's why people always come back each year to celebrate this dreaded holiday.

By now he's pretty convinced that love wasn't meant for him so he does whatever he can to drown everything out. Because there's no way in hell a girl would ever take interest in him, so it's better to just avoid them all.

When Valentine's Day finally comes Gyutaro begrudgingly leaves his dorm. But not before he puts on the heaviest, most anti-normal person emo garb that he has. Of course, he has his usual graphic tee, skinny jeans, and black jacket with the sleeves rolled up. But today he makes sure to put the black eyeliner on heavy and wear spiked bands around his wrists. The combat boots and metal chain on his hip top the look off.

He hopes this will be enough to deter anyone from speaking to him today. He only has two classes so as long as he can get through that then he'll be fine. Steering clear of any painfully romantic couples canoodling all throughout campus.

The day goes by longer than it should, but eventually, he gets through his classes.

Though he can't shake this heavy feeling inside of his chest. He tries to ignore it but as he saw more and more reminders of what today symbolizes the feeling only got stronger and stronger.

"Why am I feeling this way...?" he mumbles to himself as he clutches his chest. Inexplicably his eyes begin to water as the feeling worsens.

Panicked and annoyed, Gyutaro quickly leaves the building and walks towards one of his favorite spots near campus, a small secluded creek surrounded by tall trees that make him feel like he's in another world. He has to trudge through some shrubs to get there, but he always goes here when he wants to be alone.

Sitting down on a fallen log and lighting a cigarette, Gyutaro sighs.

He doesn't want to admit it, but he does feel incredibly lonely. Sometimes he internally curses everyone who has things that he doesn't, especially when it comes to having a loving relationship. He knows he isn't the easiest guy to get along with so the relationship would probably go south anyways. But that doesn't stop him from yearning for it. All he wants is to be loved. Is that really so much to ask?

He closes his eyes and takes a drag of his cigarette, trying to shift his thoughts to anything else.

But he's quickly snapped out of it when he hears a twig snap behind him.

"Shit," he mutters and puts out his cigarette. Did someone follow him? Maybe it's just an animal...

"Hello?" he shouts, hoping that it is indeed just an animal and not a couple that wanted to sneak away together.

"Erm... hi, um... sorry to bother you," you say with a shaky voice as you emerge from the trees.

"Y/N?" his eyes widen as he recognizes you as one of the girls in his art class. Honestly, he only remembered your name because he thought you were really cute. Not to mention sweet too. You haven't talked to him much, but the few times you did you were always abnormally kind to him. Something he wasn't used to from people.

"Yeah, sorry I um," you stutter not sure what to say as you realize how weird it would be to tell him that you followed him out here.

"What're you doin' here?" he raises a brow.

"I-I wanted to give you this!" you shout, your nerves getting the best of you as you force yourself to just spit it out already, "Happy Valentine's Day!" You swiftly hold out a velvet heart-shaped box.

"What..." he whispers in disbelief, "This for me?"

"Yes! I hope you like it," your entire face is red as you awkwardly hold the item, hoping he'll just take it already.

He narrows his eyes as if he doesn't believe you, but he takes the box anyway. Flipping it over, inspecting every detail, seeing his black painted nails shine as he moves his hand around the box. God do you love how he paints his nails.

"What is it?" he asks skeptically.

"It's a bomb," you respond.

His eyes widen as he stares back at you like you're a madwoman.

"Gyutaro, I'm joking!" you chuckle, lightening the mood, "Just open it already!"

He scoffs, holding back a laugh as he opens the velvet box. Inside are messily decorated chocolates in heart shapes.

"They taste better than they look, I promise..." you say sheepishly, hoping he won't hate them.

"Did you... actually make these?"

"Mm hm," you nod, "I tried to at least..."

He genuinely can't believe it. He doesn't even care that half of the chocolates look like turds, he's just touched that someone went out of their way to make something for them. Hell, he would have been happy if you just bought a box of chocolates from Walmart. But this? He never expected someone to do this for him.

"Are you trying to fuck with me?" he says in disbelief, his mind telling him that there's no way this isn't a joke or a cruel prank.

"W-Well um... maybe after a few dates..."

"... what?" his cheeks go red, "N-No! That wasn't what I meant- fuck um... never mind," he stutters, flustered by the thought that a pretty girl like you actually is considering having sex with him.

"Th-thank you," he spits out, "I love it." An awkward smile pulls on his lips, revealing his crooked teeth.

But it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

You've been crushing on him so hard ever since you met him this semester. He hasn't talked to you very much, but he doesn't seem unpleasant. Just quiet.

But when you happened to see him talking to his friends one day after class, you witnessed him smile for the very first time. And it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You wished that one day you could make the cute emo boy smile like that.

And you finally did. Even if he ends up rejecting you, you don't care. You made him smile and that was what you were really aiming for. A rare reaction you barely see cross his face.

But honestly, Gyutaro doesn't know how to react. He's awkward and shy and totally not used to interacting with people like this. Let alone cute girls.

In an attempt to show his desire to get closer to you, Gyutaro scoots over and pats the spot beside him, "Wanna join me?"

"S-Sure!" You say eagerly as you take a seat beside him.

Gyutaro leans back, staring up at the sky as he tries to process everything that's happening right now. But there's one question he can't get off his mind, "What made you wanna give this to me?"

"I think you're really cool..." you shyly admit as you fiddle with your fingers, not brave enough to look at him as you confess your feelings, "I like your style and I always wanted to get to know you better. But I never knew how."

He's internally kicking himself for making himself appear so unapproachable. Sure it kept the normies away like he wanted but it also kept cool people like you away that genuinely wanted to get to know him.

"Aw man... thanks. I think you're pretty cool too," he smiles, putting his hand on top of yours, "Maybe we can hang out sometime outside of class... I-If you want to."

"Of course! I'd love to," you beam excitedly, not only because he wants to hang out with you but also because he's touching you right now, "Y'know I um... I'm not doing anything tonight."

"Me neither," he blushes and turns to you, "Wanna come over? I have a sick record collection we could listen to."

"I'd love that, Gyutaro," you say, squeezing his hand. Just happy that you get to see the emo boy smile. But this won't be the last time, you'll be seeing that crooked smile of his a lot more after today.

[14dyh]

Clueless | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x reader Summary: Your research partner, Hange, is clueless about romance. Or so you thought. Content: just fluffy research partners trope A/N: i survived college hell week so here you go. HVD HANGE LOVERS!!

"I didn't know you could walk slower," you remarked as Hange strode beside you. 

Early training was exhausting, coupled with the paperwork you have to handle after. Just thinking about it drains your energy.

Your ever-energetic Section Commander only beamed at you and responded, "Well, I have to match your pace more often now."

"Why is that?"

"Since we became research partners?"

Your head racked in confusion, gaze snapping back to them.

"Research partners? Since when?"

"I knew you still haven't read Erwin's notice," they said matter-of-factly, pulling a folded sheet of paper from their uniform. "He thinks your works are impressive and said we should work together on a new trapping device."

"That... sounds exhausting..." 

"Right! Exciting, isn't it?" Hange smiled, too deep in their excitement that they misheard you. You can never keep up with that amount of enthusiasm, try as you might. 

After pulling an all-nighter last night to organize files, your commander now wants to transfer you to the thinking team. Great. 

"When are we going to start?" you asked Hange. 

-

It turns out that working closely with Hange would present unexpected issues. You have no problem with Hange or the work itself as being with them brightens your day more than you cared to admit. Sometimes you wonder why they're so good at making you smile and laugh even at the face of mathematical formulas and complex design structures but that's a question for another day. Your real musings lie on the question of why they're so clueless about people hitting on them. Surely, the box of chocolates left on their desk with hearts scribbled all over it or the cadets swooning over them when they passed by the corridor weren't just people being friendly as Hange always liked to think. 

This present issue became more clear when Valentine's Day arrived. To think that your lot makes time to celebrate this event is amusing. You were with Hange the whole time that day, brainstorming and sleepless that you almost forgot about the day of love happening just outside your doors. 

"What if we try it? You know, outside?" Hange offered, sipping on their fifth mug of coffee. "See if it works?"

"Hange, it's a long-range weapon. And there are people outside," you muttered sleepily, yawning as you walked towards the window to allow some sunlight in. You drew the curtains and looked down. "People celebrating apparently."

"For what?" Hange asked absentmindedly, busy scribbling down a few ideas that you probably have to illustrate later. 

"Dunno," you yawned again, drawing the blinds back. "I'm sleeping. You can't stop me."

"Go ahead," they said, thumb pointing at the bed. "I'll wake you up later."

-

When Hange woke you up about an hour later, you hid under their pillows and bargained for another five minutes of sleep. 

"No, silly, we're not going to work. I brought something," their voice came, lifting the pillows you're hiding on. 

Their brown eyes beamed at you, holding up something as your vision cleared. 

Chocolate? 

No, not just that. They've got an armful of it. 

"Where on earth did you get all of that?"

"Outside the door," they muttered, opening one to munch on it. They offered you one. "Surprising, huh?" 

"Well, it's Valentine's Day." You only remembered about a minute ago. 

"It is?" Their eyes widened momentarily. "I thought it's tomorrow."

You laughed softly, taking a chocolate from their hand. "We've been staring at plans all week, we didn't know."

"About time," they spoke, sitting on the spot next to you. Their eyes met yours and for a moment, you were tempted to look away as if gazing any longer will melt you in a puddle. It's not helping that they seemed to enjoy looking at you more than anything else recently. "Let's have dinner. There's a new dinner just outside the quarters."

"Did, uh, did we miss dinner downstairs?" 

"Yeah... I forgot about it." A sheepish grin crossed their face. "Doesn't matter, though. It's only 9 PM."

-

It turns out that diners were occupied that day, couples swarmed the place as the buttery scent of baked goods wafted in the air. After the long queue, you managed to take back four sandwiches which you ate in your shared room. 

Hange sat on the bed next to you, scribbling equations, crossing them out, and starting over again. It was adorable how their brows crease when they think.

"Hange?"

"Hm?"

"Shouldn't you sleep?"

They smiled, "Later."

"Happy Valentine's Day," you mumbled sleepily, curling up next to them.

"You too." Hange's gaze lingered on your sleeping form, thinking of the reservation for two they booked yesterday.

They stayed up late that night, writing down equations, and dimming the lamp to allow you some sleep. They were asleep until afternoon slumped over their papers which you diligently put away when you woke up that morning. You only understood half of what was written, guided by Hange's short annotations on the page. It warmed your insides, knowing that Hange wrote these equations for your designs. The invention you're both working on felt more feasible and easier to envision.

- 

"It's working well, Commander," you reported to Erwin later that day when he asked about the device's progress.

"It must have been, huh? Hange knows how to gather a great team," he smiled amicably. "They specifically requested for you."

Your cheeks heated up, smiling warmly even on your way out of Erwin's office.

Hange was waiting in the corridor, notebook discarded and eyes lighting up when they saw you. They half-run in your direction, energetic and beaming as always as though they had enough sleep.

"Ready to go?" They asked, walking beside you.

"Where?"

That same charming smile you always notice creased their cheeks.

"Maybe the diner has a seat for two this time."

[woozinhos]

(politely but loudly because i'm excited) HI MOLLIE CAN YOU WRITE ARGUMENT AND YELLED CONFESSION IN THE RAIN WITH DK

Notes: I GOT CHU BOO ENJOY THE ARGUEMENTTTT HEHE

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

You and Dokyeom were walking together in the rain, arguing about something you couldn't even remember. The sky was gray and gloomy, matching the tension between the two of you.

"You never listen to me!" Dokyeom exclaimed, his voice raised in frustration. "I've been trying to tell you this for weeks and you just ignore me!" You rolled your eyes, feeling your own irritation growing. "Oh, so now it's my fault that you can't communicate properly?" you shot back. "You always assume I know what you're thinking without you saying anything!" The rain was pouring down harder now, soaking you both to the bone. Dokyeom's face was twisted in anger, his hair plastered to his forehead.

"You know what? Maybe I wouldn't have to assume if you actually paid attention to me for once!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the empty streets. You stopped walking, turning to face him fully. "Are you serious right now?" you snapped, your own temper flaring up. "I pay attention to you all the time! I just don't always agree with you!" Dokyeom took a step closer to you, his chest heaving with anger. "Well, maybe if you agreed with me more often, we wouldn't be having this argument in the first place!" he retorted. The rain was pouring down even harder now, but neither of you seemed to notice. You were both too wrapped up in your argument to care about anything else.

"You're impossible to deal with sometimes!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. "You always have to be right, don't you?" Dokyeom let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his wet hair. "I'm not trying to be impossible, I'm just trying to get you to understand my point of view!" he yelled back. He took another step closer, his eyes flashing with anger. "But you never do! You're too stubborn to listen to anyone but yourself!" You glared at him, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. The rain was pouring down so hard now that it was starting to hurt, but neither of you showed any signs of stopping.

"I'm stubborn? You're the one who can't admit when you're wrong!" you shouted, your voice rising above the sound of the rain. Dokyeom clenched his fists, his jaw tight with anger. "I'm not the one who can't have a simple conversation without turning it into a fight!" he yelled back. He was standing so close to you now that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. The rain was running down his face, mixing with the anger in his eyes.

"You always twist my words and turn everything into a problem!" he continued, his voice lowering slightly but still filled with intensity. "It's like you want to argue just for the sake of arguing!" You turned and started walking away from Dokyeom, your anger fueling your steps. He watched you go for a moment, his chest still heaving with emotion.

"Where are you going?" he called out after you, his voice softer now but still laced with irritation. You didn't answer, just kept walking. The rain was starting to ease up a bit, but the tension between the two of you remained thick in the air. Dokyeom hesitated for a moment, torn between chasing after you and letting you go. But then he made up his mind and started walking after you, his long strides quickly catching up to yours.

"Wait!" Dokyeom shouted, his hand closing around your arm and pulling you to a stop. He spun you around to face him, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the sound of it falling softly around you.

"Y/N, wait," he said again, his voice softer now but still firm. "I need to say something." You looked up at him, your anger fading slightly as you saw the look on his face. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"What is it?" you asked, your voice quieter now. Dokyeom took a deep breath, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. "I need to tell you something," he said, his gaze never leaving yours. "Something I've been holding in for a long time." Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was about to say. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation mixed with a hint of nervousness.

"What is it?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. Dokyeom took another deep breath, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "I... I love you," he said finally, his voice shaking slightly.

The rain suddenly picked up again, pouring down around you in sheets. The sudden downpour seemed to match the intensity of the moment, adding to the drama of Dokyeom's confession. You stood there, frozen in shock, as the rain soaked through your clothes and plastered your hair to your face. Dokyeom's words hung in the air between you, waiting for a response. He didn't move, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. He was completely drenched, his clothes clinging to his body as he waited for you to say something, anything.

"I've loved you for so long," Dokyeom continued, his voice rising above the sound of the rain. "I didn't know how to tell you, and I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way. But I can't keep it inside anymore. I need you to know how I feel." He took a step closer to you, his eyes burning with emotion. "You mean everything to me, Y/N. You're the most important person in my life, and I can't imagine being without you."

"I can't lose you," Dokyeom said, his voice cracking slightly. "You're the one person who makes me feel alive, who challenges me and pushes me to be better. I need you in my life, more than anything." He reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. The rain was coming down harder now, but you barely noticed as you stared up at him, your heart racing in your chest. Dokyeom's lips crashed onto yours in a passionate kiss, his hands moving to the back of your head to pull you closer. The rain poured down around you, making the moment feel even more intense and electric. He kissed you with a hunger and desperation that left you breathless, his body pressed against yours as he poured all of his love and longing into the kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying everything he had been holding back for so long.

You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands clutching at his drenched shirt as you lost yourself in the moment. The rain continued to pour down around you, soaking you both to the bone, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of Dokyeom's lips on yours and the overwhelming emotions that swirled between you. After what felt like an eternity, Dokyeom finally broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to catch his breath. His chest was heaving and his eyes were filled with a mix of relief and desire.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice ragged with emotion. "I love you so much, Y/N. Please tell me you feel the same way." He searched your eyes, waiting for your response with bated breath. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle again, the only sound besides the rapid beating of your hearts. You looked up at him, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and joy. "I love you too," you whispered back, your voice shaking slightly. "I have for a long time, I just didn't know how to tell you."

Dokyeom's face lit up with a radiant smile, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god," he breathed, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I was so scared that I had ruined everything between us." He held you close, burying his face in your hair as he breathed in the scent of rain and your shampoo. You both pulled away from the embrace, laughing at the sight of yourselves. You were both soaked to the bone, your clothes clinging to your bodies and your hair plastered to your faces.

"We look like drowned rats," Dokyeom chuckled, running a hand through his wet hair. You giggled and nodded in agreement, trying to smooth down your hair but failing miserably. "Yeah, we do," you said, still laughing. "But it was worth it."

Dokyeom smiled at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I can't believe we just confessed to each other in the middle of a rainstorm," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. You laughed again, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest despite the chill of the rain. "I can't believe it either," you replied. "But I'm glad we did." He took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. "Me too," he said softly, looking down at you with a tender expression. "I'm glad we finally got everything out in the open."

[ateez-himari]

250214; FATED VALENTINES

[NEW MESSAGES FROMM HIMARI]

[AM 8:13] Early date in Copenhagen before going to see our Tiny ♡ I get to be sappy about my boyfriend today and you guys can't tell me anything about it ㅎㅎ

[AM 8:14] Mingi oppa hasn't told me where we're going, he always does this when he's the one planning our dates. The only information I got out of him was that we're going to a flower shop at some point 🤭Didn't take much prying though

[AM 8:15] We matched very well this year! We started dating after valentine's day so this is only our second one together, but since the first one we agreed that we'd choose each other's outfits, I wasn't expecting this dress though!

[AM 8:15] He styled my hair too! Well he tried...I had to help him a little bit, he has long fingers but he doesn't really know what to do with them sometimes

[AM 8:16] His hands are very big, yes ㅎㅎ It surprises me too sometimes, the size difference is very nice when it's cold, my hands can just hide in his, like gloves

[AM 8:17] Nope, the second picture was my idea, the first one was his. He wanted to make it look like some kind of royal portrait, just less official

[AM 8:17] Ahh no they're not engagement rings, it wouldn't be on my index if it was, but we both designed them together not that long ago

[AM 8:18] We also have a special surprise for those coming to the concert today! It's nothing too insane, we just changed the 'Addict' stage slightly to be more romantic, 'Shadow' felt too dark to perform on the day of love

[AM 8:20] stop keeping my girlfriend from me on this special day, we have a date to get to 😠 you guys can have her to yourselves tonight (you won't)

[AM 8:21] (1 video attachment) here you go, you can have a video of me asking her to be my valentine, special gift for you guys, better than chocolate

[AM 8:22] it won't be the only time that i get on one knee to ask her something 😉 now if you'll excuse me and my beautiful angel, we'll see everyone tonight

[AM 8:24] Mingi oppa is pouting at the fact that you guys are taking all my attention away from him, so we're heading out now ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

[drdemonprince]

i have chronic hand pain and the thing thats truly done the most for my recovery is getting in touch with my limits and learning to stop autistically pushing thru them. taking breaks and icing and just chilling tf out sometimes has brought me more healing than anything else. claps for you! its tough!

It is crazy hard because my default is to just lock the fuck in so much so that I don't even notice I'm in pain. and I'm just such an intensity junkie in a way, I'm just blasting myself with information and ideas and communication and stress and the few physical sensations that do get through to my body all the time and then wondering why I'm so pissed the fuck off. and when I have nothing to do, when I do actually try to slow down, I immediately fear the despair that could set in and I just don't let it. Even though if I do let myself get past that I do love this slow contemplative mindset that I can get into. The imagination and one's wandering thoughts are a beautiful thing to witness and so peaceful too. it's like I forget that. and I have just had it so drilled in my head that you have to use it or lose it, every physical capability, every mental skill, you have to keep using it, so that you'll still have it, you can't rest. I'm in tension all the time pretty much. thank god for this alternatingly gentle / cruel (but always controlling) top who pushes me down into the mattress and makes me play dead and relax my holes so they can stretch that shit out as deep as they can possibly go, it's literally been such a therapeutic body relaxation exercise lmao. good for the atrophy too. but sometimes they have to remind me to breathe out and relax every muscle my body so many fucking times before I go limp. I really need to chill out sometimes. All the times

[itsnesss]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | on valentine's day, you and jun-ho share a quiet, meaningful day, growing closer through simple moments and small gestures of love

warnings | fluff, romance

word count | 1.8 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks

ᡣ𐭩

It's Valentine's Day, and like every year, you find yourself searching for the perfect gift. The streets are filled with couples walking hand in hand, smiling and enjoying the romantic atmosphere that covers the city. Although you don’t care much about the day, today something feels different. Maybe it's the way Jun-ho looks at you or the special connection you've built since everything changed.

Jun-ho, your boyfriend, is a serious man. Always so focused on his work, sometimes distant. But today, when you woke up beside him, you felt something warm, something that filled you with hope. Perhaps there aren't any big plans or grand romantic gestures, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that today, on this special day, you were together.

You wake up beside him in bed, the sound of his calm breathing next to you. You look at him, watching how his relaxed face contrasts with the image of him as the officer always ready for action. Jun-ho is one of those men who seem fragile on the outside, but his soul has a strength that, although he doesn't show it, makes you admire him deeply.

Without making a sound, you get out of bed, looking for your clothes in the closet while trying not to wake him. You know that if you don't hurry, Jun-ho will get up late, and for him, work always comes first.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and when you check it, you see a message from him:

"I’m waiting for you for breakfast. I love you, today is our day."

You can't help but smile. There’s no need for more words. Those three simple words mean more than any flower or expensive gift ever could. You know that sometimes he feels uncomfortable with affectionate words, but he always says it in a way that touches your heart.

You head to the kitchen, where Jun-ho is already sitting, with a cup of coffee in his hands, staring pensively out the window. The sun gently enters the room, illuminating his face and showing an expression you rarely see. It’s not the one of a police officer on a mission, nor the one of a distant man. It's the expression of a Jun-ho who belongs to you, who wants to spend this day with you.

"Are you almost done?" you ask, smiling at how calm he is.

He looks at you and nods. "Yes. I'm ready. How do you feel today?"

You sit across from him, still smiling. "Good, really good. I didn’t know you cared so much about Valentine's Day."

Jun-ho shrugs, but there’s no coldness in his gesture. "It’s just an excuse to spend more time with you. I want today to be a good day for both of us."

Your eyes soften as you hear him. His words, although simple, mean more than any grand promise. You give him a smile in return, grateful for his sincerity.

"I want the same thing too," you say as you take a sip of your coffee.

After breakfast, you decide you want to do something special. Maybe there won’t be grand plans or fancy dinners, but there's something you can do: create memories. So, without saying anything, you take his hand and guide him to the door.

"Let’s go," you say with a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Today I want us to do something different."

Jun-ho doesn’t ask, he just lets himself be guided, trusting you. And as you walk through the streets, you realize how easy it is to be by his side. You don’t need grand words or gestures. All you need is to be with him, and that makes everything perfect.

Arriving at a nearby park, you stop and look around. The snow falls gently, covering the ground with a white layer that seems straight out of a dream. The cold air brushes against your cheeks, but the warmth of Jun-ho’s hand in yours makes you forget everything else. It’s a moment you could only share with him.

"What are we doing here?" Jun-ho asks, a slight smile on his lips.

"You'll see," you answer as you look him in the eyes. "I just want to walk a little."

Jun-ho frowns, but then follows you without saying a word. You walk together in silence, enjoying each other’s company. The wind brings with it a sense of peace, and you realize that this is the best Valentine’s Day you could have imagined.

"Thank you for being here," you suddenly say, breaking the silence.

Jun-ho looks at you, surprised for a moment, before his expression softens. "I thank you too, more than you think."

You feel his hand tighten a little more, as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say in words. That simple gesture, so small but so meaningful, makes you feel closer to him than ever.

You walk for a while, sharing stories, laughing at the little things you find along the way. Although Valentine’s Day is celebrated in different ways, for you two, it’s just a reminder of how lucky you are to have found each other. The world seems to stop for a moment while you both enjoy this time together.

Finally, after hours of walking, you decide to head back home. When you arrive, Jun-ho stops at the entrance, and for a second, he seems to hesitate.

"Would you like... to have dinner with me tonight?" he asks, almost shyly.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s something so simple, but what you love most about him is his ability to surprise you with such sincere gestures.

"Yes," you answer quickly. "I’d love to."

The night falls and you both prepare for dinner. Jun-ho takes care of the cooking, though you know he’s only doing it to surprise you. You know that, in reality, he doesn’t care much for cooking. But for you, he does it. And that’s what you appreciate most: the effort and love he puts into every little action.

The dinner is peaceful. You talk about your dreams, about what you hope for the future, without hurry or pressure. There’s no need for grand words, just the comfort of being together. From time to time, your gazes meet, and in those little moments, everything you need to say to each other is there, without the need for words.

You finish the night watching a movie, curled up on the couch while the rain softly hits the windows. Everything is perfect, beyond any plan or surprise. It’s just another day with Jun-ho, but for you, that day is everything.

When you finally wake up, he’s already near you, looking at you with a smile. "Happy Valentine’s Day," he whispers.

[themultifanshipper]

liam wrestling you down over his knee so rough you end up with bruises. yanking your panties down and forcing your legs open so he can spank your pussy until you cum. his fingers shoved into your mouth telling you to shut the FUCK up before he fills it with something bigger. it’s your own god damn fault for being such a brat he’s got no choice but to punish you and he won’t stop till you’re a sobbing mess drool running down your chin

-🦴

Another banger ask from you!

Liam not caring if you're enjoying yourself (but he knows you are)

He finds you profoundly annoying but can never resist the feeling of your legs wrapped around him while he stretches your pussy out

When anything goes wrong on track he takes it out on you

He wants to yell and scream in frustration, but you're not his therapist, you're his fucktoy

He'll spank your ass until you're crying and your cunt is dribbling down your thighs

He'll take great pleasure in spanking your pussy too

He alternates between hooking his fingers into your g-spot roughly and slapping your puffy cunt

It's not like he wants to physically cause you harm

But he's addicted to your whiny little sobs and the way you writhe in pain on every slap

But he knows you like it because you also get wetter on every slap which makes the sound of his hand making contact obscene

When he fucks your mouth he never gives you time to breathe

On the contrary, he gets off on the power he has over you

He doesn't let up until theres a puddle of drool and tears at his feet

You always end up with nasty bruises all over your body that hurt (sometimes for weeks) every time you accidentally press on them

Because he never fucks you anywhere comfortable

It's always in his drivers room, shoved over a desk, against the wall or on the floor

And on the very rare occasions where it's in a hotel room, he refuses to go anywhere near the bed

If he fucks you while facing you he has to shove his fingers in your mouth to shut you up

He can't stand your voice, but it's bearable if you've got your back to him

Doggystyle, or against the wall with your head pulled back roughly by your hair

Or a hand around your throat as leverage to pull you onto his cock even harder

Often leaving finger marks around your neck

When he cums he leaves, or he kicks you out

There is no care between you, just unbridled loathing

[mellifera38]

I think you kinda hit the nail on the head here. I think it's a big part of why a lot of people left the campaign feeling less attached to Bells Hells compared to the Mighty Nein.

You got a little of this flavor in the beginning as Bells Hells got to know one another and kind of tackled some of their background baggage, but as the campaign left the honeymoon period and headed into The Main Plot, you got less and less inter-character moments. Huge stretches between them that left you going 'so how are they feeling??? When are they going to get some downtime to process all this?' We kept being left waiting, sometimes for like three episodes. We as the viewers were used to having that after C2, its like the treat at the end of the stressful fight. All we got instead was Stress Stress Stress for like 70 straight episodes.

Once all hell had broken loose on the apogee solstice, the whole thing felt like a big rush to the finish line, and Character Time was mostly over. It's dnd and you can play it however you want, but I think not getting that time contributed to them not really knowing where they all stood at the end or what they should do, which then caused us frustration as viewers.

To expand just a bit, to me, it felt like we had a specific group of heroes who were very suddenly thrown into some other group's religious story narrative and forced to make a decision that very few of them had personal stakes in other than 'I hate Ludinus'. Their backstories were not religion focused other than FCG. They didn't really have the chance to form new beliefs until after they already had the weight of the world on their shoulders and every interaction with the gods made them feel they were just being used for survival. If a god had reached out previously to help them unbidden in a time of need (other than The Cleric), they would have had a completely different motivation to pick a side bc it would feel like the gods genuinely cared for their children. Even a storyline to pit them against the gods instead of just feeling like they were invisible to them could have been beneficial to their larger character arcs in relation to The Plot.

It was an interesting experiment to put these very neutral unbiased people in charge of that kind of situation, don't get me wrong, but then the vast majority of Character Moments we did get were the constant confused/angry circles of 'why do we care about Them?' and 'but what happens if we do nothing' and it got repetitive and tiresome and people got pissed off at different characters and none of them really even changed. They still didn't really understand one another. In the end, even after learning about the eidolons and the Dawnfather being a dick and talks with the Matron and the Arch Heart, the only thing that STILL tethered them personally to the story was 'Let's stop Ludinus because we hate him for getting Laudna/Oryms husband killed and at least we know he's bad and we'll figure it out this god shit when we get there.'

Not the most compelling but hey, it got them to that finish line.

I think at least some of these unsatisfying pitfalls could have been avoided if they'd had more chances for character/relationship exploration beyond like the first third of episodes and maybe with some more religious theme overtones. It was also kind of a shame that all that build up of the new setting at the start was completely left by the wayside. They Needed a Longer Honeymoon. The apocalypse just rolled around way too early.

I love the C3 characters a lot, but its not the same kind of way I love the M9, and I think its mainly because this campaign was a vehicle for the world's next historical era. There's nothing wrong with that, necessarily, but it is polarizing, and a huge shift from C2. With the M9 we had 140 episodes exploring these characters and who they really were as people and where they came from and how they helped each other heal. You can't get that in just 40 episodes leading into an apocalypse speedrun. They are just two completely different kinds of campaigns. It really is a matter of taste but I'm also quite certain that if Matt could go back and do it from scratch knowing what he now knows, he might have approached this very differently. I do think even the players were left floundering and trying to understand what the narrative wanted from them. This kind of Big Picture History Story needed characters at least a little bit built to theme, I think. This is why Brennan's EXU mini-series are so successful.

Sorry if I took your post a little off topic I just suddenly had a lot of thoughts and I haven't talked about any of this yet lol.

Whatever C4 ends up being and whenever it is, I really hope we see a return of the consistent "I go over to *insert character*" that was lacking this campaign. It's something so simple but so foundational to why I love CR. It used to be so consistent and made even the most mundane things like setting up camp, night guard duty and travel something to look forward to.

I can't tell you how many of these moments with characters just simply talking to each other about anything and everything became some of my favorite moments in all of CR. I remember so many episodes where I looked forward to these breaks more than even combat or some story elements because it immersed me so much in every aspect of the campaign.

To me this is when CR is at its best, it is the foundation that separates it from other AP's and is what pulls you in and hooks you so you're equally as invested to the story or action or honestly anything just like the characters and the cast.