#Making Out

[ivyrotica]

a nasty, sloppy, filthy, disgusting, feral makeout session with my mutuals would probably fix me.

[sinnersinatra]

Me and you 🖤

[nataliedecorsair]

My favorite ship dynamic, aka crème de la crème, aka horrible and inappropriate comics and memes with Hedwig and Vaughn to celebrate the Valentine's day. Yes, the previous comic was all cute and stuff, they had to start somewhere... but this post shows what happens when their true dynamic comes out.

Also, a honorable mention of Rhys. He gotta stop trying to 🐓block his friend and do his own thing. I bet @shroomthealien could help with that >:)

[perplexi]

uuuuh saw the movie, here's some obligatory *muah muah stab stab* fanart❤️🔥💛

[well-wisher31]

[plutoenjoyer]

jooyeon — sleepyhead

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

genre: fluff 𓇬 wc: 1.7k

tags: female reader, established relationship, making out, napping, playful banter, not proofread as usual

warnings: none

summary: you stay late with jooyeon at the studio, and you can't help that he's so fun to mess with (lovingly).

notes: this was meant to be a part of the "jooyeon randomly biting you" wip but it ended up getting too long and becoming its own thing. now with 100x more reader being cheeky and him being an absolute sucker for it!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

jooyeon invites you to the studio with him if he plans to do some solo practice. it's nice to have some company while he strums away at his instrument for hours, and of course, you don't mind one bit. it's already hard enough to find time to meet with both of your busy schedules, so you'll take any moment of comfortable, quality alone time with him. not only that, it really is a treat to get to see him practice. you think his voice is beautiful, and the gentle lull of his instrument (today, he felt like acoustic guitar) almost always put you to sleep while you're sitting in the corner of the room with his jacket over you like a blanket. it's like being gently guided into a deep sleep, and by god you needed it considering how overworked you were almost all the time. it's warm and safe. you're out in no time.

jooyeon's just about to wrap up when he checks the time. 11 pm. he did not mean to go this late. the other members had waved a goodbye to him what feels like just a moment ago, but in reality it was about two hours. and then he remembers, oh yeah my girlfriend is here, and he's about to ask you if you're ready to head out when he sees your eyes shut, slumped peacefully against the wall.

he feels bad that he made you sit and wait so long. truthfully, he was just so into an idea for a potential song that he lost track of time. he very gently puts the guitar back into the case and gets up, approaching your sleeping figure. he tries his best, for once in his life, to be quiet so he doesn't disturb you. he crouches down onto his knees, resting his cheek against his arms as he looks at you. if anyone were to walk by and see his face they could tell just how in love he was with you.

god, you're pretty. too pretty, the thinks to himself as he watches the way your soft lips are slightly parted as you breathe. he never thought in his twenty two years of life he'd ever care about such a thing but here he was, head over heels for a girl who can't stop biting him.

(and he wonders how you're even able to sleep in such an uncomfortable position. doesn't that hurt your neck?)

gently he taps your arm, and when you don't wake up he grabs your wrist and shakes it a little harder. you were tired, but not tired enough to be able to sleep through that. soon enough you were trying to blink the moisture back into your eyes after having such a good nap.

you slur your words with a small groan of displeasure, "mmn ... joo, are you done ... ?"

he hums in agreement, "mhm, yeah. i'm sorry it took so long." he smiles a bit at how your hair is messed up on one side as you squint at him, trying to readjust to the light.

it would be pretty easy to just stand up right now and grab your things so you both could go home. your bag is right there. but instead, the menace that you are, decide to wrap yourself up tighter in jooyeon's jacket and rest your head back against the wall. you catch the faint smell of his cologne on the jacket as you snuggle into it again.

he looks at you with an unamused pout. "hey."

"just ... mmmfive more minutes ..."

"god, and i'm the sleepyhead?" he scoffs at you, "we gotta go, y'know."

bantering with him was starting to wake you up but you were weirdly comfortable in a way, and taking the fact that you also liked to cause problems for him into consideration, still didn't get up. "you're just mad i napped without you." you don't hide your languid smile.

he decides to convince you with a cheeky remark, "i'll give you a reward if you get up."

"like what?"

"hmm ... how about a kiss?" he slightly sticks out his tongue, trying to give you a playfully flirty expression. his eyebrow raises at you suggestively.

silence. you open your eyes solely to give him a look of disinterest and slight disapproval.

"you could at least go along with it," he whines. but truthfully, he knew that wouldn't work. he's already onto his next mode of convincing. what's the next key to your heart if not for him?

"we can make instant noodles if we get back in time before bed."

by now you're fully awake and shoot him a scrutinizing squint from your unmoving position against the wall. "the buldak or the shin ramyun? choose wisely."

"hmmm ... buldak."

this sparks your interest. "good choice," your tone reflects your immediate approval, "okay, just help me up first," you make grabby hands at him to signal for him to come closer and pull you up. he rolls his eyes at your enthusiasm for the food rather than his affection, yet even if you act silly and intentionally stubborn he still does everything you ask him to just to make you happy.

and happy you are, because he falls right into your trap. before he can lift you up, you grab him by the arms with unexpected force and he almost falls on top of you if not for his quick reflexes. he has both hands on the arm rests of the chair that you're in, hovering above you just inches away from your face. he looks at you in surprise as the adrenaline from the reflexes kicks in.

you grin. "i lied, i want the kiss." you squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips into a comedic duck-lipped, kissy face. it doesn't last long because after you feel nothing, your eyes flutter open, already giggling at how dumb and annoying you're acting. he looks like he cannot fathom how you're acting right now.

you think he's not going to do it and begin to shift your body up and out of the seat, but you're stopped half way.

"you are so frustrating, you know that," he reprimands you with a slight growl before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. it's clear he savors the feeling despite how he feigns annoyance. you can't ever let him know he caught you by surprise and how your stomach does a flip, because he would never let you live it down.

after a moment you regain your composure (the best you can mid kiss), exceedingly satisfied with how quickly he bends to your will. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him further into you, indulging in the feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours. he has to steady himself by pressing his knee into the seat, right between your legs and he makes a little noise into your mouth out of surprise. you just can't help yourself if he's going to be that cute. you know that he knows this, and how that aggravates him as someone who claims to be the epitome of manliness.

what was supposed to be a quick peck turns into something more—suddenly he is hungrier for your taste after being provoked so much, turning it into an open mouthed kiss and then a slow, heated make-out session on the well worn armchair of the studio. it's hot. his breath mingles with yours. despite your consistent teasing you are more than willing to melt into his touch. your heart races at the feeling of him searching, wanting more from the heat of your mouth at such a slow and sleepy pace. you quickly feel your face heating up, following his move and willing to give him whatever he wanted from your lips. your hands roam around the expanse of his back and it feels like this moment could last forever.

as soon as you part you look at his love-stricken expression, eyes half-lidded and giving you a crooked smile as he presses his forehead into yours, breathing heavy. his lips are little swollen and pink in the aftermath. you can't help yourself from smiling too, gently running your hands through his hair and twirling bits into your fingers with a satisfied hum. your first thought was that he was so beautiful, and so, so sweet. being with him was thrilling, even if you were doing something as silly as making out like teenagers skipping class.

you're looking at his face like this is the last day you'll ever see it, just admiring how gorgeous he is. he giggles and you feel the faint breath on your cheek. "what?" he gives you a toothy grin, his voice low and raspy and delirious as if he was drunk on your taste alone.

your voice comes out small yet so in love, "'ts nothing. i just like you." which is just scratching the surface of how much you really felt about him.

he looks deep into your eyes, roaming throughout the specks of light that swim through your irises, gives you one last quick peck. "i like you too."

you smile. you know that no matter how silly or stubborn you are he would always be by your side. even when you refuse to get up and he has to coerce you to, even when you spontaneously can't get your hands off each other. you realize the mushy feelings that are bubbling in your throat and threaten to come out as happy tears. in order to break the tension, you joke, "can we still make instant noodles?"

and he laughs, and you feel the warm vibrations against your body, "yes. we can still make the noodles. promise no veggies though."

finally, the two of you get up from the armchair and he's cheesy about it. he grabs your hand, pulls you up into him and spins you. you're always ready to be silly and sappy with him, so you make sure to make a show out of it, all while snickering about how gross it all is. and finally, you make your way home. you think about how good the ramen is going to be. you think about how good it feels, right now, to walk home with him, hand in hand in the cold air of night.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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thank you for reading! <3

[kennedye-ken]

Motivating my friend to do her work with nuzi fanart and also answering anon's question on where Ns bite mark is coming from

[hairmetal666]

"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?

"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."

"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Do you?"

"He doesn't work here."

"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."

"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."

She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.

He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.

"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"

"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.

She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."

Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.

One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--

cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him

It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.

A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone

---

Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.

The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.

He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.

The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.

---

Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--

Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.

He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.

"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.

Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."

They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.

Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.

He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.

There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.

"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"

"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."

"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."

Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.

Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"

"Am I wrong?"

Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.

"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."

His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."

"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.

"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."

Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."

"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."

"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"

His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.

Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.

They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.

"Yes." Because there is no other answer.

He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"

"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.

She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"

He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."

[cart00nmilk]

Sonadow Confession Story Extra 3!

This one happens right after part 13

The last free extra of the bunch!

[hayweerc]

First photo is inspired by that one song "ship in a bottle"

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was Billbo Baggins, making out with Legolas in the back pews of a church at a wedding.

[perplexi]

here's the boys ~in color~! ❤️🔥💛✨

[shakespearian-love]

Getting ready for work with you ❦

[well-wisher31]