#tech the red neck

[talesfrommedinastation]

Sign #1,876 that Tech's a redneck?

Rednecks LOVE piles of crap that they're 'working on', ESPECIALLY if it's car or technology related. It's one step away from old ladies and their piles of knitting around the house but don't tell THEM that.

"Imma get this here microwave going again, yessiree, why buy new when you can just fix what you found in the dump? Turn it up son, I need some Florida-Georgia Line to get to work!"

And look at our boi here in them Georgia colors, Bulldog red on and ready for football.

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug's interpretations on various 'Bad Batch' characters

So, it turns out my neighbor Doug, who lives next to me, is a MASSIVE Star Wars nerd. Hooray! Found this out earlier during a snow storm. He was thrilled when he found out my kids and I watch this show together, and had some...brilliant...insights on how he interprets the show. I'll be dropping some of the wildest descriptions here from time to time.

This was months ago, but damn it, it was so wild how this chubby Cajun Boomer described the show. I'm going to drop some of his best gems that he's texted me since January:

Crosshair: "So that there's Daddy Warcrimes. All you need to know is he lives on beer and Slim Jims, has more guns then Jesus got faith, and that he does your mom on the weekends, and then you thank him for his service."

Hunter: "Aw man, we got Rambo up in this place. Daddy Rambo. He looks like he's got some hot wife with a huge butt who makes amazing biscuits, but he only showers on the weekends for reasons he won't tell you."

Wrecker: "I know, I KNOW, he's got some cool Star Wars name, but in my head, he's Julio. He looks like a Julio, ya know? Every Julio's been the nicest guy with a truck and a million friends. I swear. I bet he's a contractor and lays pipe like you wouldn't believe." ::winks::

Tech: "Hm, yeah, I know him. That's Ryan-from-Accounting, somebody's hipster dad. You know, everyone knows a Ryan who works in accounting, he's quiet, only drinks IPAs, and has a bitch wife named Laura who drives a Kia and is always yelling at him. Poor man. I hope Julio saves him from his bitch wife Laura."*

Echo: "Eh, Toaster Strudel. Homeboy looks like his daddy had an affair with a convection oven on shore leave and forgot to pay child support."

Omega: "Little Orphan Blondie. I hope she gets real parents or something besides those freaky alien things running the mall on the ocean."**

Admiral Rampart: "I hate this smarmy jack-ass already. He looks like my asshole nephew who got some fancy degree but can't keep a job in corporate because he's such a little ass, he talks down to the janitors and always leaves at 2 pm 'to beat traffic'. He's MBA-Rob."

*=I can't emphasize the vitriol Doug had in his voice when describing 'bitch wife named Laura'. I am so deeply concerned for Ryan-from-Accounting, wherever he is.

**= 'The mall on the ocean' describing Tipoca City sent me. That is how I refer to it now.

[harbingersecho]

grif's surgery but just a little more... obvious?

I actually rly rly ADORE frankengrif but I don't have an in-show reason why he'd have extensive long-term allogeneic skingrafts on his face 😔

[matchingbatbites]

I saw this post and started thinking about vet tech Steve who helps this odd but cute couple with their dog who has swallowed something it shouldn't have. When they finally get the rottweiler to throw up the panties - a pair of lacy, forest green boy shorts - the room goes completely silent.

Steve, having heard stories similar to this, thinks that he's about to witness this girl realizing that her boyfriend is cheating on her. Instead the man whirls around to the woman with the most betrayed expression and says "Chrissy! You promised!"

Chrissy shrinks back, her face rapidly turning red as she says "I'm sorry! You were out so I went to the bar with Katie and she introduced me to this girl and she was so fucking hot, Eddie, I couldn't not bring her home!"

The man, Eddie, throws his hands up and says "We made a pact! You broke a holy bond! You shattered my faith in you!"

"It's No Nut November, Eddie, not some sacred oath!"

"Exactly! Do you know how many hot guys I've seen and walked away from because I thought Oh I can't betray Chrissy, it would crush her spirit!"

Steve rapidly realizes what's going on here, and while part of him wants to just leave so they can work this out, the other part of him stops and looks Eddie over. Takes in the messy hair and the nice hands and the cropped band shirt that exposes just enough of his midriff to make Steve interested.

"I'll help you get even, if you want," he finds himself saying, cutting through the bickering and silencing them instantly. Steve sees Eddie's own quick assessment of Steve's person, sees how brown eyes pause on his neck and arms and thighs.

Then he grins, big and sharp and says "I'm more than happy to take you up on that, sweetheart. Are you free tonight?"

[hoshigray]

Request! Geto never had to worry bc reader basically never interacts with guys. That 3we until he saw her hugging her male coworker and now he has to put her in place if ykiwm😋

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh yikesss, possessive sugu incoming, oof. lmao this is lowkey like the one i did for my kinktober, but what the hell

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; Geto is a jujutsu tech sorcerer - shibari; rope bondage (cross-chest box tie, frogtie) - sex toys; use of a vibrator - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pleasure denial - mild possessive behavior - pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl, my love, sweetie) - cameo: Gojo - mention of drool/saliva.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“Hahhh…ahhaa, Sug’ruu, I can’t…Mmm!”

“Aww, are you feeling well, my love? You look awful.”

And whose fault would that be?

Geto removes his jacket to put aside one of the chairs of the many desks. He stretches his sides and cracks his neck, releasing a massive sigh after a long inhale. He’s now relaxed that he’s back in his classroom. 

However, he isn’t the only one here. Someone he knows is here with him — waiting for him to return. And Geto’s lips curl into a smile once he looks down to see someone on the cold wooden floor.

You were in nude form, clothes sprawled to the side of you. A long red rope contorts around your body, binding your arms behind your back with your wrists tied together. Your thighs and ankles were restricted together; the red ropes tied the leg together to that of a frog-like position. And a red blindfold covers your line of sight. You were whining and writhing in this bounded position. Why? 

Geto slowly walks around you to take in the view, noticing that the vibrators he placed on your body were still where he had left it. Your nipples had a vibrator taped on to each, and the buzzing noises made Geto’s skin crawl. There was another set of bullet vibrators buzzing down south. Three white wires are connected to a remote lying on the floor, and they seem to be stuffed inside the wet entrance of your chasm. So, five vibrators are teasing your body all at once. What a hell. 

He comes down to your level, bringing you up with a hand to lie on his propped knee, and your breathing so low and hushed. “How are you feeling, angel?” He lifts the blindfold to have you peek at him, noticing your eyes are puffy and wet. Poor thing was crying for him.

“Sugu…” You called him by his nickname, a tool in hopes of getting on his good side. “Can you…please…”

Dark eyebrows raise, “Please what, pretty girl?” He shields your eyes again and slithers his hand down from your chin to your neck, and he loves how your breathing lessens when he approaches your breasts. He pulls off one taped vibrator to free the bud. For a moment before he blows on it, “What do you want from me?”

“Can I—Ohh!” His tongue flicks your nipple; it’s so sensitive and sore! “Can I please…cum…?”

“Ahh, what a dirty girl,” Geto chuckles to you as he kisses your mound, his hand now traveling further down to the three wires on the floor. He gently pulls one, a loud noise of one vibrator bumping into another. “You were doing so well being patient for me. I have one more meeting, baby; why can’t you wait after that?”

Your breathing gets shaky, leaning towards his frame to get through. “Because...Mmmm, I want you to make me feel—Ohh…! Good...”

“Is that right?” More laps around your nipple before he sucks it in. “You want me to make you feel good? Not Satoru?” You gulped at the mention of the other’s name, feeling Geto’s intense, indigo gaze on your face. 

In all honesty, Geto admits he can be a jealous man — especially regarding you, his sweet angel. The reason why you’re in this situation is because your partner saw you hug another man yesterday. Satoru Gojo, the dark-haired man’s best friend of all people! Granted, it was because you were only giving a gift of sweets to the tall sorcerer because he came back from a terrible, dangerous mission with Geto. And the white-haired fool, oblivious to personal space as always, brought you in for a hug as he thanked you for the bag of sweets you handed him. 

Putting his hands on you did make Geto unpleasant, yet this was Gojo we were talking about; the guy acts like personal boundaries don’t apply to him. However, what did upset the man more was you reciprocating the embrace with a cheerful smile — a smile only Geto was to bear witness to. It twinged his heart – cliche, but it did. You toyed with his feelings, and he had to correct you for such behavior. 

The man increases the intensity of the vibrators inside your cunt, and your body jerks unexpectedly. He then slides a finger inside your vagina to play around your walls with the toys, and you have to remind yourself not to scream as his fingertips scrape the velvet texture. “You hurt my feelings, sweetie,” he listens to your whimpers get higher and higher as he increases the speed of his finger. “You know I’m not one for sharing — especially with Satoru.” 

“Hahhh, Sugu’uuu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ You press your lips together to suppress a moan once Geto takes your nipple back into his mouth, pushing the nub to the roof of his mouth and skimming it with his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes your frame at the addition of another finger inside you, and more tears well up from how much stimulation is happening. “Nmoohh, please, I won’t do it again…”

“You promise?” He whispers into your ear, slowly removing his fingers to increase the intensity of the vibrators inside you. Those same fingers now go to your clit where he swipes in slow circles, and you nearly choke on your spit. “Tell me, who’s my favorite girl?” 

“Mee! I’m y’re favorite…!” Despite the ropes tightening around your ankles and thighs, your lower half still jolts to his touch on your delicate pearl, trying to sway your hips to move with the friction. 

“And who’s your only favorite man in this world?”

“You, Sugu!” Oh, the way you desperately said his nickname was so pathetic to hear — so sweet. He couldn’t stop the sneer from flourishing on his face. “You’re my favorite—Mmmph! Always…”

Good girl. “You wanna come so bad, baby?” His thumb and forefinger rub against your clitoris, evoking cute squeaks to fly out your drooling mouth. You nod hastily; that’s not what he wanted, so he pinches your clit. “Words, pretty girl, words.”

“Yessh, please let me cum, my love…!” Now that’s what he wanted to hear, being all cute and pitiful for him to grant you what you’re craving. And you can feel it coming, your nerves heightened with the climb of your orgasm.

But then, you sense his fingers gone from your clit, the cold air occupying their absence. Instead, he puts the vibrator that once teased your nipple back and rests your figure onto the cold wooden floor once more. Your brows screw together with quivered lips, “No, pleaseee! Don’t leave me again!” You whined.

Too late, he was adorning his jacket and heading out for the sliding door of the classroom. “I’m sorry, angel, but I gotta get to this meeting first. Don’t make too much noise while I’m gone, okay?” God, you pulled his heart the way you helplessly laid there. “Don’t give me that look, my love. I’ll be right back when it’s done.” He steps outside and closes the door behind him, swiftly locking it while checking for his surroundings.

And it was a good thing he did, too. Because right around the corner came his best friend, Gojo, the blindfolded sorcerer, retrieving the raven-headed other. “Yo, there ya are, Suguru! The meeting’s about to start; don’t slack off before Yaga comes for our heads.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he walks alongside his companion, heading to the other side of the hall. 

“Hmm, by the way, where’s Y/n?” The white-haired man inquires while scratching his ear. “I haven’t seen them since this morning.”

Geto hums to the question, the shrug of his shoulders to seal the deal. “They felt sick all of a sudden, went to go see Shoko to check.”

The taller sorcerer tilts his head with a scoff. “Who said you were a good liar?”

“You’re one to talk.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[g0dlyunsub]

make you mine.

spencer notices that you’ve been skipping a few too many team socials.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: romantic confessions, mentions of alcohol, mental health, hurt/comfort, plenty of fluff, spencer is a huge softie

word count :: 2.3k

author’s note :: don’t think i’ve written anything where reader and spencer confess their feelings for each other?? anyways here’s to more hurt/comfort 

accompanying song :: sugar by brockhampton

“who’s up for drinks at o’keefe’s?”

a loud cheer erupts as the elevator doors open and reveals garcia standing in front of the entrance with a gleeful smile.

“count me in!” jj raises a hand and emily promptly follows suit. the two giggle as they lean in to embrace the tech analyst festively decorated with bright red jewelry.

when rossi declares the first round’s on me! the room breaks into an even louder celebration, whistles and applause sounding left and right.

moving past the crowd with a few happy chants of your own, you finally settle in your seat and stretch. sighing, you shuffle through the pile of case files sitting on your desk and stuff several into your shoulder bag. you tie up your hair and take out a pen from your pencil holder. once again exhaling with a deep sigh, you flip through the remaining manila folders, ready to document all of the evidence after today’s investigation.

“you’re coming, right?”

you crane your neck to your left to identify the source of the voice and see morgan, hands on his hips as he scans your face for your usual smile teeming with enthusiasm. you offer a feeble smile instead, shaking your head as you point to the case file you’re working on.

“i’d really love to, but… this paper isn’t going to write itself.”

“oh come on, not again. when’s it due?”

“tomorrow noon,” you mumble, gently rolling your head to the side to relieve the pain that’s been begging for release.

“you’re kidding. well, text me if you need a hand, or if you just want company.” morgan pats your back and turns around to leave, but not without first flashing you a wink. you watch as he slings his arm around garcia’s shoulder and as the rest of the team follow the pair out of the office, each giving you a wave before they disappear into the elevator.

“you’re not going?”

you turn around to see spencer, who’s just coming out of hotch’s office and holding a case file of his own. he turns off the lights upstairs and walks down the stairs, stopping once he’s in front of your desk.

“oh, um, no. i just need to finish writing this up really quickly, and then i’ll head back.”

you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and turn in your seat to get back to work, but spencer pulls up a chair beside you.

“that’s the third time in a row you’ve said no to them. you okay?”

you sit still for a second, unsure of how to respond. when spencer leans his elbow on the side of your desk, you know he’s not going to leave without an answer, so you look back at him hesitantly.

“yeah, i’m good. what’s keeping you here?”

“i just left a request to take two days off.”

“oh, nice. yeah, you seriously deserve a break,” you nod and offer a small smile. despite your friendly expression, the tiredness in your voice overrides your genuine words. before you can expose any more of your sluggish lethargy, you revert your attention back to your documents.

“yeah, and so do you.”

you turn to meet his gaze. a serious expression overtakes his usually lax face, tense facial muscles raising his brows and clenching his jaw.

you don’t know how to dispel the air of its building tension so you chuckle, playfully hitting him in the arm and shaking your head. “oh no, that’s- that’s not necessary. i’m fine, spence. besides, i took a break pretty recently.”

you rub your forehead tiredly as you speak and cock your head to the side, as if waiting for spencer’s dismissal so that you can get back to work.

“you haven’t requested a day off in 102 days. that’s 2448 hours.” spencer lowers his chin and studies you with his unwavering eyes. you feel your heart flutter alarmingly at his stare; you swallow slowly.

of course he’d be the one to count the days, no, the exact hour, since your last break. you try to play it off again by nudging him in the elbow, but he looks way too serious, concerned even. your arm hangs in the air with no warmth to latch on to.

“do you want to talk about it?” 

when spencer leans forward, you feel your throat run dry. holding your breath, you weigh your next words very carefully.

“spence, i’m fine. i don’t need the time off.”

“too late.”

“what?” your jaw sets uncomfortably when you hear spencer’s response, and a hint of amusement flickers in his eyes before he quickly narrows them.

“it wasn’t just my request that i submitted. i put in yours as well.”

“wait- wait what?” 

“yeah, hotch just wanted me to leave a physical copy for the sake of documentation. but he approved both of our requests before we even landed.”

“hold up… spence, you just… why would you do that?”

surprisingly, you don’t feel mad. yes, he’s just submitted a leave request without your permission, but maybe this is what you needed. someone to force you to take a break, because otherwise, you’d just work yourself to your death.

“like i said, you haven’t taken a leave in 102 days. constantly overworking yourself is detrimental and can lead to burnout because of the buildup of fatigue. in the long run, it can impair your memory and thinking. so,” he says as he grasps the pen out of your hand and closes your folder, “do you want to talk about it?”

as if he’s perfectly hit your pressure point, the tiredness you’ve been masking this entire time instantly unwinds. you let out a deep, weary sigh.

“you know, two weekends ago, when we went down to south carolina to investigate that case? and i stayed back for a few hours?”

out of the corner of your eye, you see spencer nod.

“well, i met up with a friend from college. we just hung out, you know, tried to catch up with each other.”

when you emit a stressed laugh, spencer reaches for your hand. he gently kneads your palm, and you take it as a signal to continue at your own pace. you turn your head to the side so you can take in the sight of him more fully.

“as we kept talking, i realized how she has so many friends, so much fun outside of her work. she’s even getting married in two months. and i just thought… i honestly wished for a second that she was a little more lonely, like me.”

you close your eyes, instantly regretting your confession. are you really making him listen to your childish concerns? you wish he’d laugh at you, dismiss it as plain stupidity and tell you that you were right to keep it to yourself. but he won’t, because he’s spencer reid.

spencer watches you intently, at how you force out a laugh and brush the tears that are welling up in your eyes. he observes the way you shake your head and refuse to look him in the eye.

“i’m so selfish, aren’t i? this whole thing–it’s so stupid. what am i saying, what am i even doing, wishing for something so foul?” your face crumples as you speak, and the words trail off into an absorbed mumble between your sniffles.

“it’s not stupid. you’re not selfish,” spencer hums quietly, lightly brushing his fingers against your cheek and dragging his thumb across your eyelashes to sweep your tears.

a strangled sob spills from your throat, and you lean into his touch, burying your cheek further into his palm. spencer waits patiently for you to recollect yourself, and coos a constant stream of it’s okay in your ear.

“at first, i thought it was the job, spence,” you finally utter your broken thoughts with a dry laugh, “but then i saw how everyone else was dealing with it. emily, jj, garcia. and then i realized, it’s me.”

spencer swivels your chair and draws you closer to him, so your thighs are lying between his legs. like a confused puppy, you let out a small yelp of surprise.

“you need to understand, y/n, that it takes time to find your rhythm, whether that’s at work, with your social life, or just a new place. so don’t compare yourself to others, because we’re all worried about something, and we’re all at different stages of coping.”

his longing glance breaches your lips, and you lower your eyes shyly. his soft-spokenness, undivided attention, and effortless verbal magic read your emotions like an open book. you don’t have to hide. the tears fall, fast and hard.

“let it all out. it’s okay. it’s always okay to cry, but you know what’s not okay? bottling it up all the time.” he pats your knees and rubs his palms across your trousers soothingly. 

“bottling your feelings constantly, it’s what psychologists call repressive coping. numerous studies have found that repressive coping has been linked to a less resilient immune system, higher vulnerability to cardiovascular disease, as well as proneness to certain mental health conditions, including anxiety and depression,” spencer continues while looking at you sympathetically with his soft brown eyes. 

slowly, you coil your arms around his neck and hold him in a tight embrace. 

“you’re not really fair, spencer, you know that?”

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t just cite all these cool facts when you speak. i don’t have an argument to toss back at you.”

spencer pulls away from the embrace slightly, and looks down at you with eyes full of mirth. he bursts into a small spate of giggles, and it’s contagious, because you also exhale a bubbly laugh.

“i can’t help it,” he breathes quietly, and the air that exits his lips tickles your eyelashes.

spencer continues to watch you with the same stare a sculptor would possess over a block of marble, and breathes warmth into your body. you finally let your arms loose and withdraw from the hug, grinning shyly.

“let me finish this report, and i’ll head back with you. what am i even going to do with the two days off anyways?” 

“i was thinking that we could check out the steam engine festival that’s happening downtown? the 611 is actually the sole surviving member of fourteen class j locomotives produced by the norfolk and western railway, and there’s going to be special excursions reserved for interested passengers.”

you laugh as spencer happily goes on his ramble, and you go back to writing your report – this time with a rejuvenated spirit.

“be honest, spence. you submitted my request because you wanted someone to go with you to this festival, didn’t you?”

“what? no!” spencer shakes his head, but your suspicions only grow when he starts fidgeting with his fingers.

“if you say so,” you grin cheekily, “but i could really use a drink tonight. you coming?”

spencer nods. he waits for you to finish up your edits and sign off the last page of the document, and helps you pack the rest of your belongings into your bag. with a boyish smile, he offers you his elbow, and you loop your arm in his. 

there’s a lot to be thankful for, a lot to be hopeful for, and a lot to love spencer for.

“spencer?” you ask quietly. spencer hums back in response. 

you don’t know why, but a sudden wave of confidence washes over you, urging you to say your next words without holding back.

“i like you.”

you thought your years spent concealing your feelings for spencer would have culminated in a much more formulated confession, but it’s too late to retrace your steps.  

almost immediately, spencer looks at you with widened eyes. you’re almost scared he’s going to abandon you and run away in a nervous flight, but he stays put, his cheeks flushing with the shade of deep red.

“y-you can’t be drunk already,” he stammers and then abruptly chuckles, making you wonder if he’s just attempted to respond to your confession with a joke.

but maybe you are drunk, drunk from the hazy feeling of love and the highs of spilling the emotional torrent earlier. you furrow your brows and fix your stare on the office floor.

“no, spencer, i like you as in i really like you. like, romantically.” 

spencer hesitates this time, moving only to press the elevator call button. you think you’ve just screwed up, right then and there, because his brows shoot up in surprise while his lips thin into a line. 

but then slowly, he smiles, his hazel colored eyes light up, and his gaze darts left and right excitedly. 

maybe all of the stars have aligned perfectly, because the air starts to collapse in on itself rapidly, and he stoops down to press a shaky kiss on your lips. it’s unlike anything you’ve ever shared with him, so different from when he hugs you, when he ruffles your hair, when he pats your back. it’s so tender and he leaves you to glow in the warmth of his lingering touch. 

it’s only after he does this that you realize that you’ve actually just confessed to your coworker, the man you’ve had a crush on for so long, the reason why you show up to work with a smile. before you can second-guess anything, spencer grabs your wrist and pulls you in. it starts with small pecks, but then he works up to a bigger kiss; by the time the elevator arrives, you’ve fully melted into his arms.

“2190 days.”

you look up to meet his blissful gaze with your own love-tainted eyes. “hm?”

“that’s the number of days that have passed since i first met you and started to work with you. i uh,” spencer swallows, toying with the strands on his leather bag nervously. 

he opens his mouth, only to shut it immediately after. he looks at you with a shy smile, the bashfulness dimpling his cheeks, and then clears his throat.

“i like you too.”

[hyuny-bunny]

skz + s/o with long nails

can't sleep and i need to get this thought out before it makes my head explode

MDNI (18+) suggestive ideas, mutual masterbation, oral, nail markings

skz x gn!reader

chan: at first he's indifferent. it makes no difference to him, you might've kept short or no nails to start with while dating him. it isn't till you try out a new spot that leaves you with the best set you've ever had, that he starts to take more notice. especially when his back scratches take a whole new level. he's twitching his leg like a dog when you go too light on him finding it ticklish, he's begging you to scratch him harder. his mind starts to run wild at the thought how it would feel to have your nails clawing at his back during sex as he pounds into you.

minho: he loves your nails. he finds them so cute on you, especially when their pointed like a cat claw. he's not one to comment his thoughts on what you should do but he loves the way your hands look with baby pinks or milk white shades. his cats seem to enjoy them as much as you do when they surround you begging to be scratched next. he really finds out how much he loves them when you're going down on him as his thank you for paying for the new set, when you're clawing down on his thighs. he can't help admire how pretty they look while you sit perched between his thighs as stroke him into your mouth.

changbin: he loves everything about you but the nails he just doesn't quite get. how are you supposed to lift weights when you can't even close your hand into a fist :( ? nevertheless he pampers his partner!! so of course he's putting his card down for you to pay for your new set or sending you the money to pay for them (then some more incase it's a long session and you need to grab food). he's a changed man when he sees the new set. your nail tech found a cute way to put his intials on the ring fingers of your nails. he's posting and sending everyone a photo of your nail set with your hands wrapped around his bicep. he knows that all you need is a ring to complete it.

hyunjin: love love love LOVES your nails. everytime there's an appointment coming up soon, he's already asking what you're getting. he'll send you some ideas, a lot of it might be douyin style but he loves anything you decide on. aside from loving the way they look, he also loves the way they feel. his insta photos might be filled with your hands in shot with coffee or selfies he's taken while's you held his face or gave his cheeks a squish. either way he knows that you know when he plops down into your lap or chest, he's demanding head and back scratches. he's purring like a cat in your lap with every movement but will immediately whine if you stop too soon.

jisung: don't care as long you're dedicating an hour or two to play with his hair after a fresh set. colors make no difference to him but he gets weak in the knees when you come home with red nails. his mind taking him to filth places of having your hand stroking him, how pretty your hands look in with his cum painting your nails. he's always offering to pay for your nails, on the condition that you always do red which you're typically happy to oblige anyways.

felix: there has to be something based in fact for me to confidently say he also more than happy to have you scratch his head, back, anywhere that you possibly feel he might enjoy because he is actually a cat. a very cuddly one that's purring with every scratch across his skin. he loves the set ideas you come up with but especially loves when you incorporate hints of blue in your nails because you know it's his signature color. makes him feel like it's proof that you belong to him in a way that only he needs to know. his only thing to pick at is you can't be as handsy with baking with him when you have longer nails :/ buts that's okay when you make it up by playing with his hair, putting it in pretty braids and giving him neck & chin scratches.

seungmin: also someone who seems in different. he might get annoyed every time you accidentally poke him too hard from a new set. he'd tease you for the way your nails sound while you type but it's all in good fun. another one who's twitching his leg like a puppy every time you scratch his back or head. oh how he could lay like that forever. another one to soft launch you on his insta with shot of your hand on his knee at a baseball game or intertwined while having a romantic dinner. he once again doesn't mind and even learns to appreciate the way your nails rake through his hair. how they feel when your trying pry him out from between your thighs tugging on his hair for dear life.

jeongin: he loves your long nails, he loves it even more when you take him with you to get your nails done together. he's not passing on opportunity to get matching manicures. he loves to see you venture off with colors. when you opt to get a forrest green french tip set, he's right there asking for his pinky nails to be painted in the same green polish. he's posting a picture of your intertwined hands with your matching polish. he's down bad for you and everyone knows it. you can't blame him when you're the same for him. it's all he thinks about when you're both laid next to each other in bed with his hand in your underwear and your hand wrapped around him stroking him so prettily, toying with one another and matching polish adorning your hands.

[proneterror204]

Vampire Cass!

Stupid Fruitloop and his stupid schemes! Right on Danny's class trip to Wayne Enterprises in Gotham, Vlad tested his Plasmius Maximus 2.0. Effectively taking away all of his Ghost powers for the whole day. In Gotham! He looks enough like a Wayne kid! He swears he already feels watched from the shadows.

Cass was restless. There was something in Gotham that was driving her instincts crazy. She already had her special smoothie from Alfred to curve her cravings, but there was something in town she needed to sink her teeth into. She needs to find it.

He's lost. Of course he's lost. just his luck he gets separated from his class and lost. Stupid Dash pushed him right into a dark alley! This is Gotham! He was literally almost mugged! Sam and Tucker weren't gonna answering his texts. Mr.Lancer had taken their phones because of Tuckers tech addiction being a distraction. "Not paying attention in Gotham could lead to disaster." How about being in trouble and needing to call for help? Great! now he's lost in an alley and... Someone was right behind him weren't they?

Cass was on the boy in an instant. He had good fighting instincts, but not good enough. She ducked under the punch he threw and grabbed his wrist. He used the other arm to block, she grabbed that wrist to and pinned both arms over his head and held them there with one arm. He then rammed his knee into her gut, but wasn't nearly strong enough to stop her. She grabbed the leg by the outer thigh and lifted it up moving closer into the boy. Putting her leg in-between his and leaning forward into his neck to drink.

Danny had no idea what was going on! He was standing on one leg, pinned against a wall, arms held above his head, and a woman was biting his neck. A sharp sting on his neck made him whine. He couldn't think straight and was starting to feel dizzy. The woman on him let out a sensual moan and he felt himself drift into unconsciousness. "whelp, second times the charm" Danny thought as he drifted away.

This boy tasted so good! He was like nothing she had ever tasted before! There was something foreign and exotic in his blood. When she had bitten him he gave out this little whine that was SO attractive, She had involuntarily moaned into him. She was enjoying every moment of this. The way he felt, tasted, smelled, the way he... He was unconscious! OH No! Too much! She needed to pull out now!

Danny woke up in his hotel room for the school trip. He still had his clothes on- Nope never mind! This was not his shirt! His favorite white shirt with the red oval was gone and now he was wearing a black shirt with one of the bat symbols on it. And his neck hurt!

"Cass where did you get that shirt?" Tim was sneaking into the kitchen, trying to get another cup of coffee. Where he found his sister in a obviously well-worn white and red shirt that he had never seen before. It clearly wasn't Cass's, though he knew she was a clothes thieve. She only gave him a smug look and said "mine".

Danny has no idea what happened in Gotham or how he got this mark on his neck. But he knows Vlad won't stop staring at it and won't come within 10 feet of him. He literally used it to case Vlad out of his house and down the street. It was hilarious! Maybe he should go back to Gotham and try to find out what happened.

[neon-junkie]

How would TBB react to seeing the reader about to leave on a night out dressed up in a super hot outfit?

Gender-neutral reader, but feminine presenting. Words like 'beautiful' and 'pretty' are used!

Hunter - Even with half of his face tattooed, he still manages to blush through the thickness of the ink. - He's truly lost for words. - Hunter has an adorable stutter as he compliments, "wow, you look… nice- I mean, incredible. Good. Beautiful?" - Hunter then facepalms as he scolds himself for picking "nice" as his first compliment. Ugh, you look so much more than nice! - You'll both be giggling as Hunter takes a deep breath, and begins going into detail about how good you look, highlighting the specific parts that really stand out to him. - You're heading out with friends, but Hunter is quietly hinting that he wants to come along. Totally not because he's jealous or anything, but because he hopes to meet your friends, right? The friends that he's met several times before? Yeah! - Tell him that you'll still be looking this good when you come back home later tonight, and he'll get the hint. - However, he may need to leave a fresh mark or two on your neck, just to get the point across that you're taken.

Echo - This poor, poor man is going to turn the deepest shade of red when he finally sees you. - Why, just WHY did you have to wear that specific outfit that he loves so much?! And you're going out without him too?! Oh, what a tease! - Echo is lost for words as he gushes over you. He feels like it's his wedding day - How is he this lucky? How did he land an angel like you? - There's a tear in his eye as you smother him in kisses, reassuring him that you're all his, that you're the lucky one for being with him, that you can't wait to come home and snuggle up with him later. - Echo doesn't ask for much, but he would like to be kept in the loop on your whereabouts. Purely for your own safety! - "And when you reach the next bar, just comm me. Your friends have my comm number too, don't they? If anything goes wrong, and you want picking up-" blahblahblah. - One final smother in reassuring kisses, and you're good to hit the town!

Wrecker - His mouth instantly hangs open, his eyes turn wide, and his facial expression swiftly turns into a grin as he comments, "HOT!!" - You know in cartoons where the character's mouth drops open, and they begin howling and barking? Yeah, that's Wrecker. - Seriously, you look hot, and Wrecker's going to ensure that you know it. - "Look at you! I can't believe I got myself an angel as sweet as you!" - He'll mention how he's sad that he's not tagging along, but he'll assure you that it's important you spend your time with your friends. - Wrecker isn't as clingy as he seems. After all, he'll be right here, waiting for your return. - And when you do return, all your hangover needs will be met. A tall glass of water waiting for you, a midnight snack, breakfast in bed, and a big buff man to cuddle you back to health!

Tech - This will go one of two ways: - Option one: Tech eyes you up and down, and with a firm nod, he comments, "that is suitable attire for your evening. I hope you enjoy yourself." - Option two: Tech's brain short circuits. He can barely muster up a thought, let alone a comment. Radio silence, but his expression says it all. - Either way, Tech is more than impressed with your outfit choice, and how stunning you look. He just… struggles to find the words, like a deer in the headlights. - Give him a few moments, and you'll be met with suitable praise. "How exquisite you look, a truly elegant and radiant creature." - Tech can't pinpoint one specific word to describe how beautiful you look, so instead, he selects the most complex and in-depth ones. He doesn't want to rely on a 'standard compliment.' - A few kisses later, and you're off to meet your friends. All the while, Tech begins pacing around the Marauder like a lost puppy. He needs to keep himself occupied until you return!

Crosshair - He's instantly thirsty for you, smiling cheekily as he eyes you up, gawking at the sight of you. - Crosshair has a way with words, and spews out his praise, all whilst kneading at your waist, his hands trailing down to grab your ass whilst he steals a handful of kisses from you. - And then it dawns on him… - You're going out with your friends tonight, not him… - Jealousy swiftly takes over, and his compliment turn into teasing (yet petty) jabs. Nothing to hurt your feelings, though. - "Any reason why you're wearing this tonight? Do you need more attention? Am I not enough for you?" - Whilst his tone is teasing, there's a desperate need for validation. - Yes, he knows you'd never be stupid and hurt him, but… can you please remind him one more time? - Don't be surprised when you leave, and minutes later, Crosshair sends you a holotext. "Comm me if you need anything, Beautiful."

[jetii]

Theory of Attraction

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 10,975

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends/squadmates to lovers, virgin!Tech, Tech’s autism rizz, smut, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, Tech being a bit of a perv but can you blame him

Summary: It's no secret that Tech has been fascinated by you ever since you joined the team. He's spent months carefully crafting a plan in the hopes of someday asking you on a date, but it all goes out the window with the smallest push.

A/N: *slaps roof* you can fit so much smut inside this baby. That’s pretty much all this is, the feelings are a garnish.

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The heat is cloying, sticking to Tech’s skin in an unwelcome blanket where his armor doesn’t cover. Whisps of hair are plastered to his forehead, sweat dripping down the back of his neck and pooling into the collar of his blacks.

He’s uncomfortable and on edge, much preferring the cold of space to the sweltering heat and humidity of the planet that seems dead-set on torturing him.

Maybe that’s why his body is feeling the way it does. Why it’s so receptive to the image that’s right in front of him. Something so innocent, that no one around except for him is batting an eye.

You, your eyes closed in apparent pleasure, licking and sucking a bright red popsicle.

Tech isn’t sure precisely how long he’s been staring at you, but he knows exactly how much of the treat you’d started with and how little was left on the stick now as it disappeared again into your mouth.

Somewhere between finishing the repairs and watching Wrecker load their replenished rations and potable water onto the ship, you produced the collection of colorful popsicles and offered him one. You, Wrecker, and Omega had already devoured two each on the journey back, gushing over how refreshing they were when you breached the tree line and caught sight of them.

He’d nearly declined, not wanting to add syrupy stickiness to the laundry list of less-than-pleasant sensations he was currently experiencing, but a pout from your slightly swollen lips had him reaching into the box. He devoured his meiloorun-flavored popsicle in a few bites, ignoring the offended looks from the others at his method, and returned to his datapad to study up on the flora of the planet.

Or, he had tried to.

His datapad lies forgotten in his lap as he regards you with slightly shallow breaths falling from his lips. A line of red syrup drifts down your hand, and you slowly follow the trail with your tongue before it reaches your wrist.

His hand clenches on his knee, hoping no one else is noticing the way that his eyes darken at the sight of your tongue disappearing into your shining wet mouth. The popsicle is quick to follow it, drifting in and out between lips stained a very enticing shade of red. His mind is full of cotton as he swallows thickly, and he feels himself twitch in his jeans.

Of all the things to be his sexual awakening, this one has to be the most embarrassing.

Sex had simply never interested him before, at least not in a way that felt like this. He isn’t a stranger to the urges that came with being a healthy human male, and he took care of it himself the same as his brothers in the ‘fresher or in the cover of darkness in his bunk when the need arose. But the idea of being with another person hadn’t been top of mind, well, ever.

Between missions, recovering from said missions, endless repairs and modifications to the Marauder, and satisfying his insatiable thirst for knowledge, it hadn’t ever been a possibility worth spending time thinking about. He preferred to focus his efforts on things that were real and tangible.

He’d spent a lot of time lately thinking about you, however.

And even more time analyzing those thoughts in an effort to tease apart why he’s so distracted by you. Wondering where you are, what you’re thinking, feeling delighted whenever he receives new information about you. That had quickly led him down a path that turned into watching out for you specifically when you were in danger and looking for opportunities to help you when you weren’t.

Last week, you’d been stuck on a lift alone together, and he’d pretended to struggle with fixing it just to spend a few more minutes talking to you.

It’s embarrassing, it’s irrational, but he couldn’t stop it if he tried.

After weeks of deliberation, he’d resolved to set a plan into motion that would eventually lead to him asking you to dinner. Tech never did anything without thorough research and preparation. When the others went to sleep, he went through a long list of romantic holofilms, some less terrible than others, and imagined himself in the leading role.

He pictured himself saying the right things, knowing the right way to touch you to hold your interest. You’d talk over a nice meal about what you always talked about, hold hands on the walk back to the Marauder, and perhaps share a dry peck on the cheek before calling it a night. He thought he’d want to start slow.

The wooden stick nearly disappears completely between your red lips. His hand forms into a fist on his knee. Kark.

Slow went right out the window with the last of his sanity, evidently.

It takes a lot for Tech to admit when he’s wrong, but stars, was he wrong about this.

He replays that moment over in his head again. How your cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as you sucked the stick clean, trying to get every inch of the sweet syrup. He pictures you doing the same action but on your knees, his skin underneath your lips instead.

It’s late, or what passes as late when you’re traveling at light speed through the cosmos. He’s awake as he often is, back pressed into the pilot’s seat while the others are sound asleep in their bunks. But unlike the other nights where he’s alone, you’re there, nestled between his spread legs, your hands softly caressing the inside of his thighs.

You’re wearing that oversized shirt you always wear to sleep and nothing else but a pair of GAR-issued briefs, and he can see a flash of their damp center even from his position above you. Your pupils are blown with lust as you stare up at him through your lashes from where you kneel until they flutter closed when the head of his cock presses into your awaiting mouth.

“Ah, just like that,” he whispers through clenched teeth, his fingers twisting into the hair on the back of your head.

You let out an appreciative moan at the slight pull before sliding forward, sucking the remainder of him into your awaiting mouth. He can feel the press of his tip at the back of your throat as you swallow around him, and his eyes nearly roll back in his head at the movement. He casts his head back until it thumps against the headrest, breathing heavily to desperately stop himself from coming down your throat and ending it all so soon.

You seem to sense his desire and slow your motions to a crawl, leaning away to press kitten licks to his head. He holds your hair gently while keeping one hand tangled in it, his eyes searching your face as he continues watching you suck him off slowly and deliberately, moving up and down at your leisure. But when a hand reaches up to cup his balls, he pulls you off him with a wrenched gasp.

The motion entices you to stand and climb onto his lap, his hands welcoming you by grabbing two handfuls of your soft thighs just before they reach the flesh of your ass. You settle your weight on him, hands coming to wrap around his neck before your lips meet in a vicious and messy kiss.

Somewhere between the meeting of teeth and tongues, he helps you lift your shirt up and over your head, whipping it over his shoulder and the back of the chair without another thought. Your bare breasts heave directly in his line of sight, and he’s mesmerized by their shape and apparent softness. The birthmark above your right breast has always enticed him whenever he catches a glimpse of it, and he doesn’t think twice to bring his lips to it.

You eagerly press into his awaiting mouth as Tech dips his head to taste the skin of your chest. He spends special attention on your nipples, teasing them into hardened peaks as he caresses your bare skin wherever he can reach. You moan, nearly trembling with his efforts while you mindlessly rut against him, just as drunk off the contact as he is. He can feel you practically drip onto him from where your clothed core rubs against him.

Tech moves a hand up to cup the side of your face, admiring the desperate expression he finds there.

“Please,” you beg with a wanton moan as your clit catches the tip of him, sending a shudder down your thighs.

Tech is nothing if not attentive, and he reacts quickly by lining himself up to your entrance, his thumb pushing aside your underwear to bare you to him.

There's a moment of delicious, almost painful waiting, and then he slowly lifts his hips to sink up into you. Your fingers latch onto his forearm - nails sinking into fabric and flesh. It feels incredible, almost dizzying as he stretches you out and fills you to the brim.

He can’t help but dig his fingers into the flesh of your ass as you lower yourself completely onto him. You turn your head slightly and suck his thumb into your mouth, the most incredible sounds escaping your lips as you wrap your lips around him and draw him in to lave your tongue along the digit.

You move yourself up and down torturously slow, but every time his tip nudges against that spot inside of you, you whimper. The motion makes your bare breasts brush against him, and he’s enticed to lean forward and run his tongue along your flesh, sweeter than any dessert —

“Tech, you’re staring.”

It takes everything in his power not to jump out of his skin, mouth snapping shut with a clack of his teeth to hide his surprised gasp. But Tech still startles slightly — only slightly — before his wide eyes are met with the sight of Echo in front of him.

There’s no mistaking the amused expression on his brother’s pale face as he watches Tech fumble to look anywhere except at the woman currently making an absolute mess of him.

Tech is far from the only one who looked at you, he knew that. But after months of traveling together, it became increasingly apparent that he’s the only one who remains flustered by your presence.

His brothers teased him endlessly over it, but Tech had never been bothered by their assumption of his affections, nor made any effort to deny them so long as they didn’t make you uncomfortable.

His interest in you is only natural, after all. A byproduct of forced extended proximity, your objectively admirable qualities, his lack of experience with women, and the way your mere presence seemed to ease the constant buzzing in his brain.

At least, that was the working theory.

Echo clears his throat, bringing Tech back into the present as he shifts to cross his arms over his chest, still clearly enjoying the situation.

“I was not,” he responds with a huff, adjusting his goggles.

The heat that’d already been traveling up his body from his loins diverts to flush his cheeks and ears with red. He’s suddenly grateful for the datapad in his lap — he’s already been caught, he doesn’t need to be caught like that as well.

The look Echo gives him makes him feel chided, but the clone is only struggling to hold back a smile, eyebrows raised. “Sure you weren’t.”

Desperate to escape the teasing — and there’d be no shortage of it once Echo reported back to the others — Tech jerks to his feet. He can feel eyes on him as he retreats, offering a rushed explanation about HVAC diagnostics, but he chooses to ignore them in favor of hurrying toward the cockpit.

Once inside, he throws himself into his chair and locks the doors behind him. His hand is drawing out his hard length from his jeans before the lock kicks in.

Tech can’t sleep, so he does the next best thing by heading to the cockpit, taking over Hunter’s watch with very little convincing. It's quiet there, and it gives him time alone to sort through his thoughts. Not that the ones that are currently racing through his mind are all that productive, but it's better than tossing and turning and waking everyone else.

He settles himself in the pilot's chair, the dim lights and steady thrum of the engine a welcome distraction from the constant replay of the previous day's events. His mind drifts back to the heat, the humidity, the way your hair fell over your shoulders and stuck to your neck with sweat.

And then his brain helpfully supplies the memory of your mouth, swollen and red from sucking on the popsicle, the way the liquid melted in the summer sun and dripped down your arm, and the way you chased it with your tongue.

He sinks lower into the pilot seat and groans, throwing his head back against the headrest and squeezing his eyes shut. This is becoming a problem, he thinks.

“Oh!”

His head shot up at the sound, snapping over to glance at the entrance to the cockpit as the door hisses closed.

You stand still, your hand slightly raised toward your mouth as you catch sight of him in his chair. Your eyes are wide in surprise as they meet his own. He can see even in the dim light that you'd just rolled out of bed, wisps of hair escaping your braid and sticking to your neck.

His eyes travel lower, and he nearly lets out a groan when he realizes you’re wearing the same shirt as you were in his fantasy, legs enticingly bare underneath its hem.

He must’ve been staring for a while because you start to fidget under his attention. Your fingers play with each other in front of your waist as you bite into your lower lip. He tries not to focus on the movement, but there’s something about the air between you that has him entranced by it.

“Sorry, I thought no one’d be in here,” you whisper. When he does nothing, his mind too distracted to form words, you move to turn back toward the door. “Goodnight, Tech —“

He has a split second to make a choice.

“Wait,” he calls out, stopping you in your tracks. “You can stay. If you would like to, that is. I don’t mind.”

“Um, alright.” You still look a little unsure, but you're soon sitting in front of his turned chair in the co-pilot’s seat.

When it comes to love, Tech is far from an expert. Unless you considered an encyclopedic knowledge of courtship rituals and human erogenous zones being an expert, which he does not. Particularly when the breadth of the information stored in his mind seems just beyond his reach every time he looks at you.

He has a feeling you won’t enjoy many of the techniques suggested in his reading, either, such as what one author referred to as “playing hard to get.” You don't seem like the type to entertain mind games, not that he was interested in playing that type of game with you anyway.

No, his approach is going to have to be different, and more importantly, genuine.

The problem is, the longer he thinks about how to approach you, the more his mind becomes overwhelmed by the prospect.

At some point, Tech realizes you've been sitting in silence while he monologues internally, and once again, his mouth opens before he can stop it.

“Are you alright?”

You look surprised, and he isn’t sure if it’s because of the question or because he’s the one asking it. He doesn't exactly make a habit out of checking in on the others, figuring that they would tell him what’s on their mind if they wanted to, but he’s been watching you long enough that he can tell the look on your face is solemn. He doesn’t enjoy it.

“I…” you trail off when you meet his eyes, looking back down at the hands folded in your lap. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s stupid.”

“I sincerely doubt that. You are a very intelligent woman.”

His earnest, rapid-fire compliment seems to have caught you off guard, because when you turn to face him, you look bewildered.

He stammers to recover.

"I-I only mean that if you were thinking something that was bothering you, it would most likely be something important."

Your features softened. “Do you…ever wonder what will happen to us?”

The chair turns fully, your knees nearly brushing. You draw your legs up so they’re balancing on each armrest, elbows falling to brace yourself on them. You're looking at him now, and he once again is struggling to know what to say once you clarify, “What you’ll do after the fighting ends?”

Tech sets his datapad down on the console. When he looks into your eyes again, he can see them shining in the dim light, and it makes his heart feel heavy to see you look so lost.

Still, he can’t help but say it. The truth.

“We are clones. War is our purpose. There is no ‘after’ for us.”

Tech knows immediately it isn’t the right thing to say. You inhale sharply and quickly scrub your cheek. “But do you think about what it would be like if there was?”

He hesitates. He wants to say no, to tell you that the thought never crossed his mind, but that would be a lie. Tech has thought about it, at this point quite extensively.

He’s pictured a life outside of running from or into danger, one where Omega could actually be a kid and one where he and his brothers aren’t constantly looking over their shoulders. He’s pictured a home that isn’t a gunship or a lab balancing over a tumultuous ocean, a life that is simple and routine but no less rewarding.

But he’s afraid to say it, he realizes. Not just because it’s an illogical waste of time to consider the possibilities, but because now in every one of those pictures his mind has loosely constructed, you're there by his side.

You had already become part of his routine, your lives inexorably intertwined, and he didn’t want that to change. His ideal future is any future where you're together, whether it’s simply as teammates or friends or something more.

He isn’t sure how he’ll react if he divulges that to you, and you don't feel the same. He reminds himself that he wanted to start slow, his strong sexual attraction to you be damned.

The words are quiet when he finally speaks.

“Yes, I have.”

Your hand reaches out to take his, and the sensation of your bare skin warming his own sends something like a static shock to his system.

You've touched before — to swap tools, pull each other into the safety of cover, and that one time you fell asleep on his shoulder at dinner — but all of that had been through his gloves or armor. This was the first time he’d ever felt you.

It’s thrilling, he wants more of it, and he immediately understands why people get addicted to this sort of thing.

Tech’s hand turns, and he laces your fingers together before he can convince himself not to. When he catches your eye again, tearing his gaze away from where you're connected, you're smiling at him.

It’s small, a far cry from the ear-to-ear grin you wear when Wrecker says something to make you laugh, or when he dips the Marauder into a nosedive, but it still makes him feel warm.

“You deserve to have a life outside of war, Tech,” you say earnestly with a squeeze of your fingers. “You all do.”

“Thank you.” He scoots closer to the edge of his seat, toward your warmth and welcoming smile. Tech’s heart is in his throat, but if there was ever a time to tell you how he feels, it’s now.

“I—“

The door slides open, startling you both into letting go of each other’s hands. Wrecker stumbles into the room with an arm thrown up over his face, the other outstretched and waving wildly.

“Everybody decent?” he asks, then barks out a laugh at his own quip as he lowers his arm from his eyes.

You're both quick to scoot your chairs away from each other and stand, a flustered blush rising to your cheeks and an annoyed one rising to his. Tech opens his mouth to give his brother a piece of his mind, but you speak up first.

You clear your throat. "Yeah, um, I was just on my way out."

When he turns to you, your cheeks are flushed.

“Goodnight, Tech,” you mutter as you stand, avoiding his gaze. “Wrecker.”

You shove past Wrecker without another word, and the two watch you go before Wrecker turns back to Tech with a wide grin.

“Soo?” Wrecker asks, drawing out the question as he looks back and forth between the door and Tech, who has his hands braced on his hips.

Tech is silent for a beat, but when the tension gets too high, he throws his arms up. "So what?"

“What was that all about?” Wrecker gestures to the space you had just been occupying, his smile turning smug.

Tech scoffs and turns away, settling back into the pilot’s chair and picking up his datapad. “We were just talking,” he replies curtly over his shoulder. “Was there something you needed?”

“Aw c’mon, that’s it?” Wrecker whines. When he doesn’t get a response further, he heaves a sigh. “It’s my turn for watch.”

Weeks have gone by since your talk in the cockpit. The mission for Cid went off without a hitch, relatively speaking. You had your cover blown at the last minute, which led to an inevitable firefight and a hasty retreat. While some would consider it a failure, the group was optimistic. After all, you'd gotten the stolen cargo back and then some, and miraculously no one was hurt.

The generous sum of credits that greeted you on your return to Ord Mantell was split the usual way. Cid took more than her fair share before the chits hit the table, and what little amount was left was first pooled together in a fund for food, supplies, and repairs for the Marauder, then divvied up equally among the Batch. Your individual take-home pay was meager, but with the essentials taken care of, it was enough to keep paying your rent. For now.

As soon as the credits were pressed into your palm, you made yourself scarce, muttering something about needing a real shower and bed for once. Tech couldn’t blame you, though he was itching to speak to you again.

The group made their way to Cid’s arcade, Omega half hanging from Hunter’s arm as she fought sleep. Though none of you were eager to spend much time planetside, there was little else to do but wait for Cid to need you again. And if you were going to endure the city and its splendors, a drink was required.

An hour into Cid’s beer reserve, still full price and then some for the Batch, and you finally return. Freshly showered with a new set of clothes, you're easily the most put-together and rested any of them have looked in days. The tight shirt you chose rides up slightly when you wave a greeting, revealing a sliver of the skin of your abdomen. Tech quickly buries his nose in his datapad to avoid being caught staring again.

You settle into the empty stool beside him at the bar, and the others welcome you back. You seem relaxed, a stark difference from the somber mood you were in the last time Tech saw you, and he feels relieved to see you happy.

Still busying himself with his research, he slides over the glass of tsiraki in front of him in your direction. It's your drink of choice, one that he noticed you always seemed to prefer over the fruity mixed drinks Echo ordered for you.

“For you.”

He didn't have to look up to know you’re smiling at him, though he can feel his own lips tilt up when you speak. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“I am always thinking of you,” he says, eyes still on his datapad.

A beat passes, and Tech realizes his mistake. His eyes widen, and his gaze snaps up to meet yours. You're looking at him with slightly furrowed brows, lips parted in a quiet gasp.

He opens his mouth to correct himself, but nothing comes out to correct his accidental confession. One that he meant entirely, but perhaps could have timed better.

His face feels hot, and his mind is racing as he watches the expression on your face soften. You huff out a quiet laugh, closing your eyes and shaking your head as you reach for your glass. He watches you carefully, not wanting to look away for a second, as he struggles to process your reaction. Or lack thereof.

“Is something wrong?” Tech finally asks, setting down his datapad.

You take a long sip of your drink before setting it down and leaning your elbows against the bartop, turning to look at him. A soft smile pulls at your lips. “No, not at all. Don’t worry about it.”

Normally, he would press further. Leaving questions unanswered is never his strong suit unless he is sufficiently distracted. Like now, for example, when the sight of you licking your lips is far too enticing to let him focus on anything else.

If you notice he’s staring again, you don’t show it, choosing instead to throw back the final drink of your glass before setting it aside. You turn your body to face him fully, your knees brushing softly against his leg.

“Have you ever heard of five-blossom bread?”

“It is a pastry from your home planet, correct?” He asks, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at the sudden question. You nod. “I have only been once to Naboo, and we did not spend much time there to try the cuisine.”

You hum in affirmation, tilting your head at him. He feels as if you're searching for something in his gaze, and his mouth opens and closes as he thinks of something else to say. Fortunately, you speak up first.

“There’s a place not far from here that sells it. Wanna come with?”

You glance away from him awkwardly, but when you meet his eyes again, he can see the excitement in them. It does something to his heart that has him nodding before you could finish speaking.

You don’t talk about your time before the Batch much, but from what little he’d gleaned from you, you hold a fondness for your home that he simply doesn’t feel about Kamino. And it made you happy when you came across any memento of Naboo on your travels, something that never failed to make the rest of them feel happier as well.

“I know you have a sweet tooth. You’ll love it, I promise.” You beam up at him, and he returns your smile with a hesitant one of his own.

“That sounds agreeable. Do you want to leave now? If you are hungry, of course. Or we could wait until the morning, if that would be better—“

Tech is interrupted by your hand covering his on the table, and all thoughts of five-blossom pastries and Naboo leave his head immediately. The feeling of your touch is the only thing on his mind as he looks up to meet your eye.

“Let’s go now, Tech,” you say.

You stand and begin to make your way through the bar, passing by the others on their way out.

“Where’re you two off to?” Wrecker asks with a wide grin, eyes on where you’ve grabbed Tech’s hand to pull him along.

“Out,” you answer before Tech can open his mouth.

He glances over at you, eyebrows raised in surprise by your sharp reply. You tug him forward before anyone else can speak up, throwing a quick “catch you later!” over your shoulder as you quickly ascend the stairs and out into the evening air.

The sun has just started to set, and the streets are alive with the noise and bustle of the city. Tech keeps close to your side, trying his best to keep an eye on the people around you while simultaneously focusing on you. It isn’t as difficult as it sounds; you are a bright point among the chaos of the crowd.

He could have sworn that you were smiling wider, your steps lighter, the closer you got to your destination. It makes him happy too, even though he has no idea where you are headed.

Tech hadn’t considered the fact that you’re still holding his hand until the two of you are forced to stop at a crosswalk. You stand waiting for the signal to change, and he becomes very aware of how closely you’re pressed together.

After you cross the street, a thought suddenly occurs to him, and he stops abruptly, his arm tugging your back.

“Is this a date?” he asks, bewildered.

You turn around, and he can feel your fingers tense in his. He hopes he hasn't said the wrong thing, and the panic is short-lived when you start to smile.

“Do you want it to be?”

His mind is racing, but Tech manages a single word, surprising the both of you by the certainty in his voice, "Yes."

Your eyes are wide as they search his, and when you bite into your bottom lip, he can feel his cheeks heating up.

“If that is also your preference,” he adds quickly.

“It is, yeah,” you say with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “C’mon, it’s just ahead.”

He follows along after you, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. The bakery is a small, hole-in-the-wall establishment, but the smell coming from inside is delightful. The door jingles as you step inside, and the girl behind the counter looks up from the customer she’s helping with a startlingly friendly smile considering the city you’re in. You’re practically bouncing on your feet as you wait in line.

Tech glances over the baked goods in the display case, eyes catching on one that looks familiar. He points it out. "Are those the pastries you mentioned?"

You follow his gaze, a smile blooming on your face. "Those are! How did you guess?"

Tech feels his cheeks warm. "It’s not difficult to deduce. You seem quite excited by their presence."

"I can't help it. These things are the best; I'm telling you."

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a table by the window, a five-blossom bread garnished with syrup steaming on a plate between you. You take a bite, sighing happily as the taste washes over you. He smiles at your expression, and after a moment, you open your eyes again.

"Here, try some." You break off a piece and hold it out to him. He eyes it warily, not used to someone wanting to feed him, and takes it slowly between his teeth.

The taste is…not terrible.

"Well?"

"It is adequate, I suppose." He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, taking another bite. "Just say you love it."

"I am not going to lie to you."

You laugh, and Tech feels a surge of pride knowing he was the one who caused it, however unintentionally

"Alright, alright. I get it. Just know, I'm never letting you live this down. You're gonna have to find a way to make it up to me." You grin at him, a look of mischief in your eye, and he finds himself smiling back.

"I am sure I can think of something."

You finish the rest of your dessert quickly, and the two of you continue to talk as the night draws on. You tell him about Naboo and its many charms, the foods and people and sights. He tells you about the many other planets he has been to before you joined the squad, the differences and similarities. The conversation flows easily between you, and before he knows it, hours have passed, and the bakery is closing.

As you leave the bakery, you slip your hand back into his, and he marvels at the simple joy of the action.

The streets have cleared somewhat, and you're able to walk at a leisurely pace to your apartment. Tech insisted he escort you home, as the streets are not the safest place to be even for a trained mercenary. You had tried to convince him you would be fine, but when you saw the look in his eye, you agreed without further argument.

When you reach the entrance, he expects you to release his hand and step inside, but you pause.

"I had a great time tonight, Tech. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure." He pauses. "Perhaps we could do this again sometime."

You smile. "I'd like that."

"As would I."

There’s a moment of quiet between you before Tech looks around awkwardly and takes a step back, dropping your hand. “…Well, goodbye.”

He turns to leave, but your hand on his arm stops him. "Tech.”

When he turns back, you're closer, looking up at him with a soft smile. Your fingers trail down his arm until they meet his. You squeeze gently before letting go, and his breath catches.

“Yes?"

“Generally, at the end of a date, it’s customary to kiss the other person goodnight."

Tech feels his face flush. He swallows hard, his voice slightly strained as he replies. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm," you hum. Your gaze falls to his lips, and he finds himself unconsciously doing the same to yours.

"I did not want to presume—"

Your hands cup his cheeks, and then your lips are on his, soft and warm. The kiss is sweet, short and over far too soon, and when you pull away, his eyes flutter open, his breath leaving him in a rush.

"You weren't," you whisper. He watches your lips move, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Good. That is…good." He leans in to kiss you again, his hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you close. Your lips are soft and yielding beneath his, and when your tongue flicks against his lower lip, he gasps.

His mind is hazy, a pleasant fog clouding his thoughts. All he can think about is the way you feel in his arms, the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body. You kiss him with a passion he has never felt before, and he tries his best to match your fervor.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together. Your cheeks are flushed, and you look as dazed as he feels.

“You’re…you’re pretty good at that,” you say between breaths, chest heaving.

“Your positive feedback is noted,” he replies, just as winded, before adding, “and reciprocated. I’m pleased to know my research has paid off.”

You grin, a blush rising to your cheeks. "Research, huh?”

“Yes. Once I better understood my interest in you, I took it upon myself to learn more about the nature of romantic relationships and affection.” Tech adjusts his goggles. “It is a surprisingly fascinating subject with no shortage of material on the HoloNet.”

You tilt your head as your fingers trail along the back of his neck. The light scrape of your nails sends a shiver down his spine.

“What else have you learned?” you ask, voice soft.

“Many things I am eager to share with you,” he confesses, leaning closer and tightening his grip on your waist. You mirror his movements, your lips parting slightly.

“Did you know it is customary for alpha-bull Crolutes to have a harem of concubines in a breeding colony? They must constantly battle other Crolutes to maintain their status. It is fascinating they are able to sustain such a base culture given their female species’ proclivity for space travel.”

The words fall out of his mouth, and the sudden shift in mood has you snorting, your shoulders shaking with laughter.

He's confused, but he doesn't let it stop him from pressing on. "There was an entire subsection dedicated to the topic. I can send you the link if you'd like to read more about it."

You smile up at him, a look of fondness on your face, and shake your head. “Tech.”

You kiss him again, slower this time, and he can feel his heart skip a beat. You pull away after a moment, your lips ghosting over his.

“As interesting as that is, I was hoping for something a little more…tactile.”

He blinks, struggling to understand your meaning beneath the pleasant haze creeping over him. A litany of possible anecdotes crosses his mind before his train of thought is forcibly interrupted by the feeling of your fingers tapping against his chest plate. They drag downward, following the contours of his cuirass, and suddenly it clicks.

Just as you move to pull away, Tech follows, tightening his grip on your hips. He crowds you against the door, careful not to push too hard as his chest touches yours. With your hand trapped between you, his own travels upward to grasp your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“I apologize for the misunderstanding,” he murmurs. “I am more than happy to provide a physical demonstration.”

When your lips meet again, Tech feels as though a switch has been flipped, his desire for you flaring bright and hot.

His kisses are no longer gentle and tentative but passionate and demanding. He wants to know what you taste like, how you will react if he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your parted lips. You moan, a low and needy sound that makes him ache.

Tech can feel his body responding to the physical stimulus, his cock already hard and straining against his pants. He groans into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.

Your fingers clutch at his chest plate, pulling him closer as he explores your mouth with his tongue. He can feel you trembling beneath him, your breath coming in shallow gasps. He releases your chin to slide his hand up to cradle the back of your neck, angling your head so he can deepen the kiss.

Your leg lifts to wrap around his waist, and he eagerly grabs for it, fingers digging into the plush of your thigh. He uses his grip to hoist you further up, and you quickly get the hint, wrapping both legs around him until he fully supports your weight with his arm tucked underneath you.

The new position has your core flush against his, the heat of you obvious through your clothes. Your arms wrap around his neck as you continue exploring each other's mouths. Tech can feel you grinding against him, and he moans, hips bucking instinctively.

His withdraws his hand from your face to reach for the door panel, deftly deactivating the lock, and it slides open with an abrupt hiss. Gasping at the sudden loss of the barrier behind you, your body tenses against him. Tech quickly maneuvers his hand back underneath you to prevent you from falling backward through the threshold, and you let out a relieved laugh into his mouth that turns into a moan as he shifts you to grab two generous handfuls of your ass.

He carries you inside, and you fumble blindly with the control panel, struggling to close the door with his mouth attached to yours. When you’re finally successful, the door sliding shut behind him, he breaks from the kiss momentarily to look around the dimly lit room. “Where is—“

“Door on the left,” you say immediately between open-mouthed kisses on his neck. He nods, making his way to your bedroom as best as he can in the dark.

Just as he’s about to reach the door, teeth sink into his earlobe and tug. He lets out a gasp and stumbles, pressing you back up against the wall near the door as he involuntarily ruts into the juncture between your thighs. You let out a little laugh before he descends on your lips again, forcing them apart with his tongue.

The kisses become increasingly frantic and messy, and Tech finds it difficult to think. All he can focus on is the taste of you, the warmth of your skin, the way your legs tighten around his hips. His cock aches, desperate for relief, and his hips begin rocking steadily into your core.

He can feel you panting against his mouth, the heat of your breath driving him wild. His grip on your ass tightens, fingers digging into your soft flesh, and he groans, rutting against you harder.

You’re moaning now, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his armor. The sound makes his cock throb, and he grinds his hips against yours, chasing the sensation.

Tech wants to see you, needs to see you, but he can't bring himself to pull away from the kiss. Your lips are so soft, so warm, and the way you whimper and cling to him sends shivers down his spine.

You suddenly wiggle out of his hold with a nip to his lower lip, and his hands fall to his sides. He can't help the noise of protest that escapes him as you back away into the dark bedroom, but before he can do anything else, your fingers dig into the lip of his cuirass and tug him after you. He follows your lead, hands roaming over your waist and hips as he backs you toward the bed.

Your hands drift toward the fastenings of his chest plate, and his heart rate accelerates, pulse thudding loudly in his ears.

“Can I take this off?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

He nods.

You make quick work of the clasps, removing his cuirass and tossing it aside. Together, you remove his armor piece by piece until he’s standing in just his blacks and jeans.

When his holster is removed, you drop to your knees before him, fingers moving to the clasp of his pants, and he nearly chokes as he’s reminded of the fantasy he’s been tormented by for weeks.

"Oh, Force.”

The button pops, and the zipper is tugged down agonizingly slowly. You lean forward and mouth his length through the material of his briefs, and his knees go weak. You look up at him, pupils blown wide with desire.

Tech can’t tear his gaze away.

With trembling fingers, he pushes his pants and briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. He has to resist the urge to touch himself, to fist his aching length and seek relief. Your breath hitches at the sight, your eyes raking over his body.

"Stars, Tech, you're big."

His cheeks burn, and his heart is pounding in his ears. You run your hands up his thighs, and his cock twitches, straining toward your touch.

Tech has never been particularly interested in his size, but the way you said it makes him feel like the most desirable man in the galaxy. Your words and the expression on your face has his ego skyrocketing, his chest puffing out with pride before he sucks in a sudden sharp breath.

Your breath is hot against his tip, your lips so close he can feel them brush against the sensitive skin. He’s aching, the urge to thrust his hips and bury himself in your throat almost overwhelming. But then, your mouth is on him, and his mind goes blank.

The wet heat of your mouth is incredible, your tongue tracing the veins on the underside of his cock and flicking across the slit. Your hands come up to rest on his hips, fingers digging into his skin, and you take him deeper, swallowing around him until he feels the back of your throat.

Tech moans, his eyes squeezing shut as his head falls back. His hips rock forward instinctively, and you make a noise in the back of your throat, one of your hands coming up to rest on his stomach.

He looks down at you, his hand cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek. Your eyes are closed, tears leaking from the corners, and your lips stretch around his girth. He’s mesmerized, his fingers brushing over your features.

You open your eyes and look up at him, and the sight of you is nearly enough to undo him. He bites back a groan, his grip on your tightening.

Tech has never seen anything so beautiful.

"You are so lovely." He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear, and you hum around his cock, sending vibrations through his body. "I have dreamt of this moment, of having your perfect mouth wrapped around me. The reality is even better than I could have imagined."

You swallow around him again, and he shudders, his hips rocking involuntarily.

"You look exquisite on your knees, taking my cock. So perfect. So eager."

A whimper escapes you, and he moans, his hips snapping forward. He’s careful not to go too deep, but the sensation of your throat constricting around him is divine.

Your pace quickens, and you bob your head, taking him deeper each time. He’s so close, his cock pulsing and throbbing.

"That's it. Take it. Take it all."

Your lips stretch obscenely around him, and he can feel the tip hitting the back of your throat. He’s lost, consumed by the pleasure, his words pouring out of him. "You look so beautiful like this. Taking my cock, letting me fuck your mouth. Such a good girl."

You whimper, your hands sliding from his hips to cup his balls, rolling them gently between your fingers. His orgasm is building, a tingling sensation at the base of his spine, and his hips begin to stutter.

"Fuck, mesh'la, I'm close. I'm going to cum. Stars, yes, I'm—"

With one last thrust, his vision whites out, and he’s cumming, cock pulsing relentlessly as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow every drop, licking him clean as he comes down from his high.

When he finally pulls out, you gasp for breath, cheeks flushed. Tech is breathing heavily, his legs shaking, and he collapses onto the bed next to you, his head spinning.

"Force, that was…" He trails off, unable to find the right words. You grin, a sly look in your eye, and he knows that you know exactly what you've done to him.

Tech can still feel the buzz of his orgasm lingering, the tingle in his limbs making his toes curl. His eyes are half-closed, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

"Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted to do that?" you ask, crawling up the bed and draping yourself over his side.

He blinks, surprised by the admission. "No. But I must say, I am extremely pleased you did."

You giggle, and his arm wraps around you. He pulls you close, relishing the feel of your body against his.

"That was…incredible."

"Mmm, I'm glad you liked it." You press a soft kiss to his cheek.

He sighs happily. "More than liked. It was a singular experience. One that I would be interested in repeating." He sits up, leaning over you. “But first, I wish to return the favor."

He kisses you, slow and deep. His hand slides up your body, caressing your curves. Your breasts are soft under his palms, and he feels you arch into his touch. Tech teases your nipple through your shirt, his tongue exploring your mouth. You pant into the kiss, your hands roaming over his bare chest.

Tech wants you naked, your skin against his.

He breaks the kiss, sitting up. "May I undress you?"

You nod, and he lifts the hem of your shirt, exposing your bare torso. His eyes travel over your body, drinking in every detail.

"Beautiful." He murmurs, fingers tracing the swell of your breast. You shiver at the touch, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. He drags his lips down your chest, peppering your skin with soft kisses. Your breasts are heavy in his hands, and he can feel your heartbeat racing under his tongue before his head dips lower.

His teeth tug at your nipple, and you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Please."

Tech sucks hard, and you moan, your legs spreading beneath him. He continues his exploration, moving to the valley between your breasts. He trails his tongue down your stomach, his hands tugging at the waistband of your pants.

"Take these off."

He hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls them down. You lift your hips, helping him remove the garment, leaving you bare save for your underwear.

Your skin is smooth and warm beneath his touch. Tech can feel your thighs trembling, your body arching toward him. He traces your hip bones, dipping his tongue into your navel, and you gasp.

"Tech…"

"Patience, cyar'ika. I promise, you will not regret the wait."

He drags his tongue over the apex of your thigh, teasing you with the barest of touches. You whimper, and he feels your legs spread even wider. He moves lower, tracing the seam of your pussy with his finger. You're soaked, your arousal seeping through the fabric of your panties, and the sight of it makes his mouth water.

“Tech, wait—“ He pauses immediately, though his fingers don’t leave you.

“Yes?”

“Have you…done this before?”

He tilts his head. “Intercourse?”

You sigh. “Yes, Tech.”

His brow furrows. He had not. Was that a problem?

“I am admittedly inexperienced in this area,” he says, eyes flicking downward toward the dampened crotch of your underwear and back up. He can feel saliva pooling in his mouth, and he swallows against it. “But I assure you I am a quick study.”

You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, pushing the unruly locks back off his forehead. He leans into your touch, his eyes closing.

"That's not what I meant. I just don't want you to feel obligated. If you aren't ready, we can stop."

“Understood,” he nods, pausing pensively to thank you before his thumbs smooth over your stomach. “Though I doubt I will wish to stop until I have had my fill of you. Lift your hips, mesh’la.”

After a second’s hesitation, you comply with his request, and he drags your underwear down your legs before tossing it aside. His hand is on you in an instant, middle finger gently exploring your slick folds before he dips it inside. He’s pleased to note that your anatomy doesn’t differ much from his research as he gathers the slick weeping from your entrance and swipes upward to catch the bundle of nerves above it.

You let out a soft cry and arch against him, your legs trembling. Tech grins, a thrill shooting through him.

"Is that good?"

"Yes, oh stars, yes." You pant, your hips rocking against his hand.

He continues to move his fingers, exploring your body, watching your reactions. You're so wet, your juices dripping down his hand. His thumb replaces his finger on your clit, rubbing gentle circles while he drags his finger down to your entrance.

He breaches you slowly, searching for the spot he had read about on your upper wall. When he feels a texture different from the softness surrounding it, he presses upward, and he’s rewarded with a loud whimper.

Chasing your noises, he begins to create a rhythm, drawing in and out and focusing on your core with rapt attention. He marvels at the way wetness seeps from your slit, dampening your thighs and his hand, at the sounds you make, at the way you arch into his touch.

He moves his free hand to press down on your lower stomach just as he adds a second finger, earning him a loud moan. Your hips begin to writhe with the motion of his thrusting fingers, wetness squelching lewdly.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you gasp out between panted breaths, your eyes locked on where his fingers are disappearing inside you.

“I have not,” he says. “But I admit I have thought about you in this position many times.”

You wail as he increases his pace, lowering himself onto his stomach so he can watch your impending orgasm up close. “That’s it, mesh’la. Cum on my fingers."

You shudder, your hands fisting in the sheets, and Tech can feel your walls clenching around his digits. His own arousal is steadily increasing, his cock filling out against the bed as he imagines how it would feel to fuck you.

Your climax hits you hard, your hips lifting off the bed and thighs pressing tightly around his hand. You let out a wordless scream, your body writhing in ecstasy.

Tech watches with wonder, his cock throbbing as a flood of release escapes you, soaking his fingers and the inside of your thighs. He doesn’t let up in his thrusting, eager to see how much he can wring from you.

“Tech—“

He groans at the breathless way you say his name, pressing harder onto your stomach as his thumb nudges underneath the hood of your clit. A choked sob leaves you under the squelching of his fingers deep in your cunt.

Suddenly, you arch and shake with a scream, and a flood of liquid squirts from you, splashing onto his goggles and dripping onto his nose and mouth. He blinks, stunned. It takes everything he has in him to not cum the instant you soak his face.

"Fuck! Oh stars, Tech, I'm sorry."

You sit up, a mortified expression on your face. Tech licks his lips, the taste of you flooding his mouth. He can't hold back the moan that escapes him, his cock aching to bury itself inside of you.

"You have nothing to apologize for. That was...extremely arousing," he says, pulling his fingers from you, though not without marveling at the way the inside of your walls grips him as he pulls out completely, as if they wanted him to stay.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he replies before wiping the lower half of his face. He lifts his goggles onto his head, unable to stop the smug smile from forming as he watches your heaving chest.

“I’ve never done that before,” you say, blushing furiously. Your hand comes up to cover your eyes as he licks his fingers clean, sucking them into his mouth to collect the remains of your release.

“I am honored to have been present for such a spectacle. You are quite extraordinary, you know."

You peek through your fingers, and Tech can see the smile curling your lips. "Flatterer."

“I wonder if you could do that again. Would you like to try?" he asks. Your hand drops from your eyes as you stare at him in utter disbelief. “That was the most arousing thing I have ever witnessed, and I would very much like to experience it again."

He slides his hand between your thighs, fingers sliding easily along the soaked length of your pussy, and he watches as you visibly shudder, a whimper leaving your throat.

“Maker, Tech, you’re going to ruin me,” you groan, throwing your head back. A distinctly male part of his pride preens, filing your words away for later in the back of his mind to repeat when he was alone. “Maybe some other time.”

His brain stutters, and the hand he’s trailing absently up and down your slit slows to a stop. “You want to do this again?”

“You’re not going to be able to keep me away after this,” you warn, and though he recognizes it's a joke, he can see a hint of something else in your eyes. He pushes himself up to his knees, drawing close until he can anchor himself onto either side of your head with his hands.

“That will not be a problem,” he says, pressing his mouth against yours.

You respond immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The movement forces his cock, still hard and aching, to press against you, and he gasps as he feels the precum beading at his tip smear across your skin.

As if reading his mind, you move a hand between you to take him between your fingers. Using your thumb to spread the leaking fluid down his length, you wrap your fingers around and squeeze. He’s still sensitive from earlier, and he can’t help but move his hips to fuck your fist.

“I—kriff,” he swears as he leans his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter closed. Your thumb presses against the vein underneath his head, and the sentence forming in his mind disappears in time with the needy whine that falls from his lips.

“I want you inside me, Tech,” you whisper, meeting his gaze when his eyes blink wide. He scrambles back to position himself at your entrance, and he’s surprised again when you shakily move as well.

Your hand presses gently on his chest, and he follows the motion to take your place, his head nestled in your pillows. You move to straddle him with your thighs on either side of his waist, and he feels faint with the amount of blood rushing down to his cock.

He can hardly believe what he’s seeing, though he wishes he could see you more clearly. With the lights still off and his goggles resting on his forehead, he can barely make out your silhouette above him.

Your hand goes back between you to guide his cock to your entrance when he stops you.

“Wait!” He calls out, just as you are beginning to lower yourself onto his lap.

You freeze, and he quickly grabs onto his goggles, tugging them off his head. He nearly drops them in his haste to wipe them off on the sheets before securing them back over his eyes. They aren’t perfectly clean, far from it, but it’s enough to allow him a clear view of the way your slick folds open around his length.

“You may continue.”

You huff out a quiet laugh before you resume your descent, grabbing his cock to hold it steady. His hands reach out to grab hold of either side of your hips as you lazily move his erection up and down your folds, his tip catching on your soaked entrance before notching your clit.

You let out a small whine before doing it again and again, and Tech feels like he is about to combust.

You repeat the motion two more times, and he feels a desperate noise tear itself from his throat. He isn’t entirely sure how he is still managing to breathe.

“Please, cyar’ika,” he hisses, staring hard at your cunt. Your folds are glistening, and his mouth waters at the sight. His grip on your hips tightens as he tries to hold you still, and you relent, taking a deep breath. Your eyes lock on his, and the intensity of your gaze sends a shiver down his spine.

“Since you asked so nicely.” You smirk before sheathing his cock entirely, punching a deep moan out of his chest.

Tech feels as though he is being swallowed whole. Your heat engulfs him, and he can feel every muscle and ridge along your walls. He gasps, his head thrown back, and his nails dig into your skin.

The feeling of being inside you is indescribable. You're so perfect, and his brain is melting, his vision is whiting out, and his heart is going to burst out of his chest, and he never wants this to end.

It’s a revelation, an epiphany, a truth he could have gone his whole life without knowing, but now that he does, there is no turning back.

You seem to be having an equally hard time with it, your breath escaping you in tiny pants. You slowly shift your hips, grinding against the nearly trimmed hair of his pubic bone with a barely suppressed whine.

After a few more minutes of adjusting to each other, you start to move. You lean forward and brace yourself on his chest as you rock back and forth, and the motion draws another gasp from you, the feeling of your tightening around him nearly making him choke. You are relentless, using him for your pleasure, and he is more than willing to let you.

A litany of curses and praises pour from his lips as you ride him, and you seem to delight in his vocalizations, speeding up the more he says. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving behind crescent-shaped marks, and the pain only heightens his pleasure.

His hands find their way to your breasts, and he plays with your nipples, twisting and pulling on the hardened nubs. You moan, arching into his touch, and Tech can't stop himself from leaning forward and wrapping his lips around one of the buds.

Your pussy clenches around him, and he groans, sucking and biting and teasing until you are squirming on his cock. Your hips are rocking faster, and you’re panting and gasping, and Tech is sure he has never seen anything more beautiful. He can feel his orgasm building, the tingling sensation returning, spurred on by your movements.

“I will not last long,” he warns you. “You feel so good.”

His broad vocabulary is failing him, but he can’t find it in himself to care as you slowly lift yourself, his cock nearly sliding out before slamming back into your body, and his hips thrust upward to meet you.

He feels his tip kiss the mouth of your womb, and his eyes roll back, the feeling nearly sending him over the edge.

You begin a new rhythm, rising and falling onto him, and he matches you thrust for thrust, driving into you with a ferocity that has the bed creaking beneath him. It’s clumsy at first, but the awkward movements give way to something more rhythmic as you figure each other out.

He can see the tension rising in your body, the way your brows knit together, and he wants nothing more than to watch you fall apart. He releases one of your hips to slide a hand between you, his thumb finding your clit.

The effect is instantaneous. You clench around him, the rhythm breaking for a moment as you try to move faster, to find your peak. Tech can feel the coil inside him tightening, and he knows he won't be able to hold on much longer.

"That's it, mesh'la, come for me," he growls.

You let out a keening wail, and your body goes rigid, your back arching. Tech watches in wonder as you throw your head back and scream his name, your pussy clamping down on him. He can feel your release seeping out of you, coating his thighs, and the sound of his name on your lips is enough to send him over the edge.

He can only manage a few more thrusts before his own climax overtakes him, his muscles locking as he comes with a shout. His vision whites out, his mind goes blank as he empties himself inside you. He feels as though his soul has left his body, his entire being centered on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock.

It feels like an eternity before he can think straight, and when his senses return to him, you're slumped over him, your face pressed against his shoulder. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close. He can feel your heartbeat through your skin, and the weight of you is surprisingly comforting.

You stir after a moment, leaning back to look him in the eye.

He raises a hand, cupping your cheek. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you in any way? Do you require anything? I was aware that you would be dehydrated and—”

"I'm fine, Tech." You giggle. "Just a little sore. But, I'm really good."

Tech breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing further into the bed.

"I'm glad," he says, moving his hand down to brush your sweaty hair from your face. “Is this an opportune moment to tell you that I love you?"

You stare at him for a moment, your mouth dropping open.

"What?"

"I love you," he repeats, suddenly feeling apprehensive. Perhaps you don’t feel the same? He thinks back to the moments leading up to your coupling. He’s almost certain he hasn’t imagined you returning his feelings. "Do you not feel the same way?"

"No, I do. I mean, I love you too, Tech," you rush to explain, sitting up.

His softening cock slips from your body, and he’s mesmerized by the way your combined releases trickle from your folds. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his.

It’s a short, sweet kiss, and he can feel his lips pulling up into a smile when you pull away.

"Well, in that case," he begins, "I think it would be appropriate to suggest that we make this a recurring activity."

You laugh, burying your face against his shoulder. "Definitely. We have a lot more of your research to verify."

"Agreed." Tech nods before his brain catches up to his mouth. His ears turn pink as he processes what exactly you're saying. "Oh."

You shift, lifting your head to smirk at him. "I suppose you should get started."

He doesn’t bother with a reply, rolling you over to pin you beneath him.

[gojonanami]

"JUST A LITTLE LONGER" - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one. based off another scene from apothecary diaries. ✴︎ contents: gojo x f!reader, fluff, angst about geto, gojo cries, reader does too a little, but cuddling from behind, i love this scene so much it's so cute, and jinshi is so gojo coded ✴︎ wc: 821

This was probably a stupid idea. 

And it was, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. A cursed spirit could kill you any day, so what was falling off a roof? Besides, you took another shot of sake, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care about the possible chance of falling to your death after today. 

Suguru was gone. 

Defected, after slaughtering so many people — or monkeys as he called them now. There was no changing his mind — no going back. Suguru was a person of conviction — you supposed he still was. Shoko simply went with the flow, Satoru knew what his duties were, and you — you didn’t know what you were doing, but you thought maybe it was enough if you could help just one person every day. Especially if that person was one of your friends. 

And yet you didn’t see one of your friends needing your help, did you? 

So why were you sitting up on the roof of one of Jujutsu Tech’s buildings? You didn’t know either — you had a whole suite of aloneness you could have drank in, but you choose to take a shot in the same place that you, Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru drank in on late nights between assignments. 

Shoko would tease you — too sentimental for your own good — that’s what she always told you, but you couldn’t help it. Not after a night like this. But sitting up here wouldn’t resolve anything would it? 

And you began to carefully climb down, thinking about how much easier it was when Suguru used a cursed spirit to help you up (even when he really wasn’t supposed to summon them on campus). Fuck, your eyes burn with tears. You missed him— 

Your foot slips, as you fall backwards, into the awaiting arms — more like the awaiting body of someone below. You hear a grunt as you tumble backwards into them, your body and mind in shock, wondering what person you possibly murdered with your stupidity. 

“Satoru? What are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that,” Satoru grumbled at you as you turned to face him, “y'know when I joked that you would be falling for me, this isn’t what I meant,” 

“Oh really? Because this is exactly what I had in mind,” you snort, and you move to get up, but he’s pulling you back with a hand around your wrist, “Toru, let me get off of you—” 

“No, it’s cold,” he pouts, and now you really take a look at him — he wasn’t wearing his glasses for once, his hair unkempt at best, and his uniform all too disheveled — and his face, porcelain skin flushed red — and the faint smell of—was that— “are you drunk?” Satoru wasn't one to drink, but you supposed it wasn't for the act of it as it was the effect.

And it may have been the moonlight, but you swore he flushed further, before he’s forcing you to turn back around, pulling you further into his lap, his arms around your middle, “Maybe,” he mumbles, “I could say the same to you,” and you spot the bottle of sake on the ground in the grass, somehow not broken, “reminiscing about old times?” he pressed his forehead against your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as his breath warmed your neck, his hair tickling your skin as he leaned closer, “when did it go wrong?” 

“More like when did i go wrong?” he mutters, words all too bitter, “I should have seen it — I should have done more—” 

“No one saw it, we didn’t realize how bad it had gotten for him since Riko,” you whispered, “none of us—” 

“You weren’t his best friend—” 

“Me and Shoko were there too,” you cut him off, “we were there too,” you say quietly, “either way, Suguru made his choices, just as we did. And there’s nothing more we can do, except for what we can do here,” and then you add, “and it isn’t your fault.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because i said so,” and he laughs then, a genuine laugh. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, before burying his face in the nape of your neck, his nose tickling you, and despite the cool air of the approaching fall, your body was now burning. 

“Toru—you’re tickling me—” and he’s only pulling you closer, as you finally glance back at him, “Toru—” and your words fall away, as you see a tear slip down his cheek, his eyes shut. 

“Just a little longer,” he says, barely above a whisper, his face pressed against your shoulder again, as his arms tighten around your middle, “warm me up for a little bit more,” 

You stare up at the night sky, stars dotting the night sky — such a beautiful night despite it all — as you finally let your tears slip down your cheeks silently, “I’ll stay as long as you want.” 

And you did, forever. 

✴︎ a/n: i hope this doesn't flop like my other fics lately, but oh well lol. i wrote this quick little thing now, so forgive any typos.

✴︎ taglist: @forest-hashira, @anondrive, @neon-crow, @forest-fruits-jam, @yukuriku, @lxvegojo

[gloxk]

Think she grippin’ on my dick but that’s my gun baby~

(Eren Y.)

A/n: Lil sum sum— srry fa neglecting yall. My schedule is so fuckkkkkeedd. But, I got sum more ‘plug’ eren comin up for my luvz. Anyway I hope yall enjoy this my luvz🫶🏽!

Synopsis: First link w Eren Yeager after not seeing him in a long time. ♥︎

Warning (s): Gun kink , dirty talk, Eren talking you through it, Mentions of drugs, riding an inanimate object, f/m, Uhm like reader calls him sir? Pet names, Needy s*x, Smut, ovi. girl yk the deal 17+ around here!

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

You kicked your feet while biting your bottom lip, “Yeah, I know you miss me, baby.” You cheesed at his comments. Eren knew exactly what to say, his words were so sweet and slick. “Of course I miss you ren. When you gon come see me?” You heard his music blaring through his speakers. This boy really had you thinking about him every second of the day and night. “Whatchu mean? I’m outside right now ma.” You nearly took flight running down to the front door. It felt like time was nothing more than a mere interference with your speed. You swung your door open , your smile instantly dropped looking at your empty driveway “Fucking asshole, you lied.” He cackled as if you said something funny. “Nah I’m here.” He flicked his head lights grabbing your attention, you forgot his car was completely black. You didn’t understand why he would make his Hellcat so dark. Didn’t he want people to see it?

You smiled seeing him get out of his car, he looked so fucking fine in his Nike tech. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. Knees nearly buckled as Eren approached the door. You gulped back your salvia, it felt like swallowing a golf ball. “Heyyy baby.” His lips met your cheek, it’s been so long since you saw Eren. His voice held a sweet tang and a long draw to it. His fragrance was a mix of Dior Sauvage and Backwoods. His eyes spoke for themselves; red and low. “Eren—are you high?” you pulled his face closer to yours. Examining his eyes—yeah, he was fucking hammered. “When am I not?” He flashed his pearly whites, you always wonder how he got his teeth so nice and white. If perfection was a human it had to be him, there was no visible flaw within that man. “You gonna smoke your brain away if you keep it up.” You closed the door and walked with him up to your bedroom. Eren looked at you with a soft expression, his eyes locked on to yours. “Aww, you care about me, baby? Fine, I guess I have no choice but to do as you wish.”He jokingly replied. Eren didn’t have many people who cared for him, so it was nice to know you were one of the very few.

Eren found himself in your bed once again, he nuzzled into your neck while a basic Netflix movie played. He wasn’t particularly interested in the movie, and you were aware of this. But he acted like he was excited to watch it. Your hands ran over his thigh grazing over his dick. Fingertips wrapping around it. “Damn Ren, you must be very happy to see me huh?” you giggle sinking into your bed lining. Eren's dark jade eyes met yours, the lower part of his face was covered by his hand. Unbeknownst to you, he had a new hand tattoo; a skeleton face—damn he looked fine. “That ain’t my dick, that’s my gun baby.” He laid on his back, his shirt slightly lifting revealing the weapon. You couldn’t resist wrapping your fingers around the handle of his gun; it was calling your name. You held it in your hand admiring the weapon, it alone held the power to remove a soul from this world.

“You like it?” he took the gun away from your grasp. He parted your thighs placing the cold metal against your cunt. “Yes sir.” You bit your lip at the sheer cold touching you. The hairs on your neck stood up, it was so dangerous, it turned you on. He slid your panties over letting the blistering cold metal meet your pussy. The gun started at a gentle pace, moving slowly against your clit. Erens lips occupied your neck; kissing and sucking it. His tongue lightly brushed over your collarbone, you felt his tongue piercing glide against your skin. You rutted hard against his gun trying to relieve the built-up pressure in your abdomen. You didn’t want his gun, you wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you silly until you could no longer comprehend your surroundings. “Fuucck, I need more ren, I need you.” The gun hastily left your thighs. “I need you too ma.” His mouth met his glock licking your slick off of it. Eren's lips pressed firmly together creating a ‘mmm’ sound. He got on top of you pressing his chest against yours. You felt his bulge through his sweatpants, his dick was begging to be left free. He pulled his sweat pants down, just below his crotch panel. Your fingertips slipped under his elastic waistband; tugging his boxers downwards. His dick pounced out, an angry red color washed over his tip. “Fuck, it’s been too long.” He stroked his dick letting the bead of pre cum coat his tip. Eren slid inside inch by inch, he grunted feeling your heat. “Damn baby, I ain’t fuck you good in a minute huh? You miss this dick?” You nodded quickly, yes—you missed everything about him. His hand wrapped around your mouth looking at his tattoo covering your face. It turned him on seeing it on you— whether his hand was around your throat, mouth, or ass. It always looked so perfect on you.

Eren tugged your shirt up watching your tits bounce as he pounded into you. You tried to push him away from overstimulating your cunt “Nah, This what you wanted right? Take this dick.” He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulder, he fucked you faster making you scream out. You could have sworn you put holes in the sheets because you were gripping them so tightly. You threw your head back clenching around Erens cock. Your body jolted at your release, finally letting go of that pressure you once had. “Ahh- fuck-“ you moaned while subtly grinding against his abdomen. His pace faltered, but not ending, Eren didn’t stop fucking you until he came all over your stomach. By then you were already on your third orgasm. He positioned himself beside you kissing your neck while tracing circles on your arm. “I know you love that shit.” He sighed, he was a fool for you as you were for him. He loved looking at your fucked out expression knowing he was the reason you looked like that.

“Mhm, I do, I really fucking do.” He grabbed his gun again setting it down on your chest, “That’s my favorite gun now, ima get your name carved in it.” That gun will forever be by his side from now on.

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

4 my whores.

[formula1au]

reward for a champion

summary: max is playing on the sim while y/n distracts him

pairings: max verstappen x gf!reader

content: fluff, teasing

warning: none (no smut)

word count: 644

Max sat in the middle of his living room, his eyes glued to the multiple screens of his race sim. The setup was impressive—three large monitors curved around him, a high-tech steering wheel, and a seat that mimicked the cockpit of his Red Bull Racing car. He was deeply immersed in a virtual Grand Prix, navigating through the twists and turns of the Monaco circuit.

Y/n leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a mischievous smile. She knew how much Max loved his sim racing. It was his way of unwinding and staying sharp during the off-season. But today, she felt a playful urge to distract him.

She walked over to him quietly, her bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floor. Max didn't notice her approach, his concentration unwavering as he took a particularly tight corner. Y/n leaned in close, her lips just inches from his ear.

"Are you winning, Max?" she whispered, her breath tickling his neck.

Max jumped slightly, the car on the screen swerving dangerously close to the corner. He quickly corrected the mistake, his focus momentarily shaken. "Schat! You scared the hell out of me," he said, laughing despite himself.

Y/n giggled and moved to sit on his lap. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. You just look so serious," she teased, poking his side gently.

Max shook his head, trying to keep his attention on the race. "This is serious business, you know. I can't afford distractions."

"Oh really?" Y/n said, raising an eyebrow. She slid her hand down his arm, her fingers lightly tracing his skin. "What if I do... this?" She leaned in and kissed his cheek softly, then his jawline, her lips trailing down his neck.

Max's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Liefje, you're making this very difficult," he said, his voice strained with a mix of amusement and distraction.

Y/n pulled back, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, baby. It's just a game. You can always restart if you crash."

Max grinned, glancing at her briefly before focusing back on the screen. "You know I hate losing, even in a game."

"Well, if you win this race, I'll make it worth your while," she said, her voice low and suggestive.

Max's eyebrows shot up, and he chuckled. "Oh? And what exactly does that mean?"

Y/n leaned in close again, her lips brushing his ear. "You'll just have to win and find out," she whispered.

With renewed determination, Max fixed his eyes on the track, maneuvering his car with precision. Y/n watched, impressed by his skill and concentration. She decided to dial down her teasing, not wanting to genuinely ruin his race. Instead, she opted for a different approach.

She slipped off his lap and moved behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. She began to massage his tense muscles, her thumbs working out the knots. "Relax, Max. You've got this," she said soothingly.

Max sighed, the tension easing from his body as he navigated the final laps of the race. With Y/n's hands working their magic, he felt a surge of confidence. He took the final corner flawlessly and crossed the finish line in first place.

He let out a yell, raising his arms in victory. "I did it!"

Y/n clapped her hands, her face beaming with pride. "I knew you could. Well done, champion."

Max turned in his seat to face her, pulling her onto his lap. "Now, about that reward you mentioned..."

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes sparkling. "Patience, Mr. Verstappen. Let's just say it'll be worth the wait."

Max smiled, kissing her softly. "I like the sound of that."

They stayed there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet victory and the promise of something more.

[0bticeo]

welcome to the show!

summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.

tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.

you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.

you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.

now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)

you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.

what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.

could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.

it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.

she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.

"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"

that one hit close home.

you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.

vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.

angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.

husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.

your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.

"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"

he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.

his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.

shit.

**

you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.

somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 

the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.

you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.

"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"

you startle.

alastor.

you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.

"what do you want?" you snarl.

he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.

"why so aggressive, little vixen?"

his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.

your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.

he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.

"i just want a little taste..."

you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.

his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

"behave, little spy."

you laugh at that, baring your throat.

"was it really that obvious?"

he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.

his smile stretches, impossibly wide.

"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."

he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.

"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."

you scoff.

"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"

a pause. his lips trail down your throat.

"i suppose that's fair."

he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.

you do.

you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.

the sight of him takes your breath away.

there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.

he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.

oh.

something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.

on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.

vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.

the radio demon smiles.

"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"

[caffeinemarche]

Yandere rating || Robins edition

Some rate/scale, types and description of how intense the robins if i were to write them as yanderes. Just for references in the future.

a/n: I don't write Yan!Damian since he is underage.

※ Dick Grayson

Intensity: 4/5

Type: The Caregiver

Description;

→ Dick is a charming man, definitely the type to use emotional brainwash to keep you on his sight. He's not the type to restrain you, as far as you are aware. Although, he does keep an eye on you.

→ Dick is a gentleman, the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. He'll get you gifts, affections, his love language might just be everything when it comes to you. Even if these things would be turned into a weapon to make you see him, a reason to keep you. Again, this is his way to restrain you. By manipulating and his self pity, so you'll feel like you have to be with him.

→ Dick is the type to make his darling the dependant type. He'll make you feel like you need him 24/7, you won't be able to do things by yourself and Dick just has to be there for you. He'll brainwash your head to only think of him, only needing him, crave him and only him.

→ He's the caregiver type, ask what you need then he'll give you anything as long as you don't ask for a breakup. Other than spoiling you gifts, he might be too much when it comes to how clingy he is, naturally he would crave your touch. Dick is also very attentive to your wellbeing, he'll take care of every inch of you. Won't ever let you skip a meal or lose a sleep. Whether you like it or not, it's for the better.

Intensity: 3/5

※Jason Todd

Type: The Protector

Description;

→ Jason is focused on protecting you. So he'll be protective, won't lock you up unless it is needed-- though hardly because of his intensity. He is not the type to make his darling to be dependent on him, he's busy anyway so he'll teach you how to defend yourself and wield a weapon. Jason does give you tough love from time to time. Never will hurt you physically no matter how impulsive he is.

→ Don't lower your alertness when it comes to Jason, he might look calm or seemingly uncaring. He does pay attention to you, just not obvious unlike Dick. Sometimes you'll be suprised on how much Jason knows about you if you ask him.

→ He's more overprotective and impulsive type. Jason will ask you to call or leave a message if you plan to go out, if you don't then he will ask, if you ignore him then it's easy to find you since he does secretly implant your phone with a gps chip. But he will be pissed off if you ignore him. He won't think twice of getting rid anyone who hurt you, breaking bones and blood doesn't sway his devotion to you.

→ Jason isn't that touchy kind of a person due to his trauma, unless you initiate or is feeling like it. Though he does have thing for your smell, he would love to bury his nose on your neck after patrol, wrapping you tight, turning it into cuddles. Jason's love language is mostly on words affirmation and act of service.

Intensity: 5/5

※ Tim Drake

Type: The Saviour

Description;

→ Tim is the type to stalk his darling while being innocent in front. Sending out texts on how much he loves you, sending pictures of you pretty much doing anything. You might freak out from the unwanted messages and pictures sent from your stalker, he would come as the knight to save you. Make you think of him as your saviour. This happens if you are not close with him at first.

→ He's good with tech, he'll secretly implant hidden cameras in your room. Hack your phone so he can see what you're doing there, implant a gps tracker on your belongings to know wherever you are. Tim is scared of losing you, he will do anything to let you not get out of his sight, might just lock you up.

→ Tim would be controlling and obssessed, despite his intensity he would not force you. The idea of you hating him would lose his mind, it's the least thing he would ever want for his darling to feel. He loves you too much that it hurts. He would do anything for you, even sacrificing his life in order for you to see him.

→ He is the type to get rid of potential enemy that might get you away from him. Tim would be delusional at times, believing that you are his soulmate, that you and him are meant to be together. He would be desperate if you were to leave, desperate in a way he would kiss your feet and beg, he'll do anything to prove that he is worthy for you as he worship you.

[littlexdeaths]

stage tech eddie munson x actress reader

warnings: modern!college au, lots of making out

y’all can blame this brain rot i’m currently having on a conversation i had with @rebelfell about techie eddie that ended up spawning all of this… thanks sarah for indulging me xx. 😘

also big kisses to @taintandviolent and @uglypastels for giving this a look over for me <3

“hey— sweetheart. you’re gonna miss your cue.”

eddie all but mumbles against your lips as you pull him in even closer, your bodies wedged between the heavy stage curtains.

“don’t care,” you reply almost breathlessly, allowing your lips to trail over his neck.

you are no longer interested in listening for the inevitable call of ‘veronica?’ to leave barb’s microphone. the music begins to swell just as you are supposed to rush out on stage to finish off the opening number.

while robin was initially supposed to help you with your quick change, when you rushed off stage you were surprised (and delighted) to find eddie in her place instead. the male gave you a cheeky grin as he had your blazer and skirt combo draped over his arm.

but the way his eyes continued to linger a little too long on your half naked figure once you slipped your costume up over your head— would only spell out trouble for both of you.

which was how you ended up half-dressed, blue blazer dangling off your shoulder and your lips smashed against his own. his hands tug you inevitably closer, rings digging into the meat of your hips while he effectively steals the air from your lungs.

your fingers grip tightly onto the cotton of his black t-shirt, feeling the heat radiating from his chest beneath the worn fabric. your lips eagerly drag across the thick skin of his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto the pale skin there.

this had been building for weeks— it had all started when eddie had offered to help you with your scene work. the male almost too eager to have you in his lap, grinding on him while you belted out the lyrics to dead girl walking.

but he’d had his eye on you from the moment you walked into that first rehearsal, all bright eyed and giddy. the more he saw you blossom under the glow of the stage lights, the more he wanted to call you his. little did he know that you felt the same way, despite your initial reservations.

the cast and crew should never mix— that’s what you were always told.

however your eyes would always seek out his lanky figure in the light booth during rehearsals. and you’d ‘accidentally’ leave your prop package of red vines out for him to steal, just to have an excuse to go up to booth to see him. only for him to hold them hostage above your head, dimples on full display as you fought to get them back.

but when you had to kiss your on stage JD— all you could think about how much better his lips would feel slotted against yours. and eddie can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him after you receive some feedback that the passion between you and jonathan was less than stellar.

but that low burning jealousy would rear it’s ugly head when you steadily began to improve.

wanton hands would paw at each other hungrily, those once dull kisses becoming increasingly more passionate with each rehearsal. and that blissful expression that flitted over your features while you gazed into the warmth of jonathan’s eyes has eddie crumbling the pages of his script beneath his fists.

but if this sudden improvement was because you were picturing eddie during your scenes together, no one was the wiser.

the mutual pining between you was palpable and downright maddening, to everyone involved in the production. so if some of them began to scheme a little behind the scenes to bring you two together, neither of you were aware of this recent development.

but everything finally come to a head with the culmination of what your cast mates so lovingly called, hell week. with the stress of opening night looming over your head, and the ever mounting tension between you two— it didn’t take much for your remaining resolve to crumble.

so when he gave you that look, all bets were off.

when eddie desperately tugs your mouth back to his, any worries that you shouldn’t be getting involved with one of your crew members is thrown out the window with each heated press of his lips. you can taste the lingering cigarette on his tongue and you’re engulfed in the musky, spicy scent that is so distinctly eddie when he reaches up to cup your cheek in his palm.

you are so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice when the music stops abruptly and the burst of confused chatter erupts on the stage. eddie just pulls you in closer, eagerly swallowing the small whine that leaves your lips. the two of you only manage to pull apart when you hear nancy’s annoyed voice ringing out from behind the curtains.

“where the hell is veronica?”

you are a flurry of limbs and fabric as you struggle to pull on the rest of your costume, eddie’s rings accidentally getting caught in your hair during the process. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead in a silent apology before pushing you toward the bright lights of the stage.

you subtly wipe the gloss that was smeared across the corner of your mouth when you rush back out from behind the curtains. unaware that your blazer was buttoned incorrectly in your haste to finish dressing.

“sorry! costume malfunction! can we run it from the bridge?” you ask innocently.

nancy gives you a disapproving look from her stage manager’s seat, flipping the pages of her script back with a raised brow. you’re just thankful the director wasn’t here for this run through— or you’d have your ass chewed out for missing your big entrance.

“alright from the top of the bridge people, places!” she calls.

everyone utters a ‘thank you places’, while you duck back behind the curtain to get into position.

you can feel how flushed you are, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. whether that was from the way his lips were pressed against your own or the melting warmth of the stage lights, was hard to say. but you manage to catch his eye as he makes his way past you and the male can’t help but grin despite himself.

“don’t miss that cue again, sweet thing.” he teases, giving your ass a little pat before continuing on his way back towards the light booth.