#oh god i have to think of a pun name for him fuck

[binghe-malewife-goals]

i turned Henry Clerval into an anteater

In the same AU as this post

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ʙᴏʏ

✒ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜱɴᴀᴋᴇ

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ꜱᴇʟꜰ-ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛ (ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ), ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ɴᴜᴅᴇꜱ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴏɴ/ᴅᴜʙᴄᴏɴ. ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere Popular Boy, who is cheerful, extroverted, intelligent, effortlessly perfect, and handsome to boot.

Yandere Popular Boy, who is the student council secretary, the captain of the basketball team, and the top student in his department. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who everybody knows, everybody loves, and who everybody wants to be with. Well, except you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who used to be your best friend. You were each other’s only friends, never apart, as thick as thieves. That was how it used to be at least, till high school came, and suddenly he was the hottest person in school, literally and figuratively. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who seemed to become interested in you again, after years of silence between you two, suddenly he’s all over you. Talking about wanting to ‘bond’ and ‘rekindle your friendship’ or whatever he’s going on about. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who was actually dared by his friends to take your virginity. The lonely nerd who never spoke to anybody, always on their own. He feels bad, you’re his childhood friend! The only person who knows what he’s really like, before he became popular.  But if he wants to maintain his position, he has to do what he has to do. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who’s starting to become flustered around you. He stumbles over his words, starts making dorky puns and jokes like when you were both in middle school, and is getting awkward around you. His suave smile and silver tongue are replaced with sheepish grins and excited rambling about all his interests.

Yandere Popular Boy, who feels his heart race when he’s around you. Who finds himself constantly thinking about what you’d think about this or that, who finds himself thinking, just randomly, out of the blue, things like: ‘[Name] would absolutely love this!’ and ‘I should take [Name] to see this movie!’ 

Yandere Popular Boy, who smiles genuinely whenever he’s around you. Though he still filters his words, it’s all to please you, you know? He wants to impress you, to make you fall in love with him and to have your heart like you have his. 

Yandere Popular Boy, whose friends all started to press him for info and any little piece of gossip about you. 

“Dom, yo, did you fuck [Name] yet?” Dominik can’t even remember the guy’s name, but by God, the way he spoke about you made him want to slit his throat open. 

But Dominik simply sighed, and shook his head, he can’t let something like this bother him, at least not in front of others, “Nah, unfortunately they’re like, a huge prude.” He wrinkles his nose, “You’d think somebody like them would be more desperate, but nope.” 

Another one, laughs. The sound is nothing like yours, which makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine every single time he hears it, without fail. On the other hand, this laugh is loud, and crude, and makes his stomach clench and has him forcing down the bile steadily creeping up his throat. 

“Ha! Little freak probably thinks they’re too good for you, or some shit,” Oh, if only this simpleton knew the truth. You are too good for him. You deserve only the best, and unfortunately he’s not perfect, yet. 

Dominik lets an easy, charming, smile form on his face, and a laugh of his own forces its way past his lips, “Oh well, I’ve still got a few months before break,” He watches with cold eyes, as all these oafs grin and chuckle dumbly at his words, but keeps a smirk of his own on, “I’ll pop their cherry, heck, I’ll even send you guys some nudes.” 

Dominik wants to slam his head against a wall till it cracks open, but at least he got the desired effect. His ‘friends’ all cheer, and the conversation branches off as they start talking about their own dirty conquests. 

He lies seamlessly, saying something about promising a professor to help with grading the freshy’s papers. Dominik chuckles and endures the heckling and teasing from the others, and then leaves the room. 

Taking out his phone, he sends you a text, asking if you can meet up. After what he just said about you, he’d feel dirty speaking to you. But if he spent another moment away from you he feels like he’ll tear his skin off. 

When you send him a thumbs up emoji, he sends the details and then heads to his apartment. 

He needs to scrub off the filth those pigs spread to him before he sees you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who realizes you have him completely wrapped around your finger. If it were anybody else he’d be disgusted with himself, but it’s you. Beautiful, perfect, you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who invites you out to dinner. He assures you it's just a hang out between friends, but maybe he shouldn't be saying that while he's dressed to the nines in a fancy restaurant that needs you to book a reservation a month in advance, as a waiter pours you two red wine in fancy glasses that're probably worth more than your kidney, all the while a band plays slow, romantic music in the background.

Yandere Popular Boy, who, after a few more glasses of wine, tells you he loves you, and waits as you recover from this truth bomb, and tries to steady his nerves as he braces himself for your response.

“Nik, I’m sorry… but I don’t feel the same way.” 

Yandere Popular Boy, who can’t believe this. Sure, he knows he doesn’t deserve you, but he thought that he at least had somewhat of a chance. He was a fraud, and a liar, but he was still better than everybody else on this campus. So who? Who could be the one who owns your heart?

Yandere Popular Boy, who's causing a commotion with how he's crying. People are staring as he asks you, with tears in his eyes, why you don't love him. Is he not enough for you? People are whispering about how cruel you are. You're probably playing with his feelings, maybe even using his money. When you call for the cheque, the waiter shoots you a dirty look, and things get even more awkward when he's the one who pulls out his credit card and pays for the meal. You hear an old lady whisper to her husband, "See! They are a gold digger!"

Yandere Popular Boy, who refuses to believe that you simply don’t want him. Everybody loves him, everybody. You’re obviously not like everybody else, but you were still human. You still felt love. If he wasn’t the one you loved, then who? 

Yandere Popular Boy, who fixates on improving himself further. Who pushes away his friends and everybody else in his life, to become perfect. Okay, sure, maybe it’s simply because you didn’t like him, but that means he has a chance, doesn’t he? If you didn’t want him, then he’ll simply have to fix himself so you’d finally see him as somebody worthy of your love.

Yandere Popular Boy, who’s starting to experience burnout. He’s exhausted, is zoning out more, he’s falling behind in class, and his facade is starting to slip. He snaps more frequently, there are dark circles around his eyes, his hair is messy, his skin is gaunt, and his clothes are always wrinkled. People are starting to notice, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who only cares about what you think. Screw everybody else, he left you for popularity in high school, for shallow friendships and people who never truly understood him, and look where that got him. Sure, he was popular, beloved by everybody: his family, fellow students, and even the faculty. But he didn’t have you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who feels his heart flutter with joy when you confront him, and tell him you’re worried for him. You’re so sweet, really, you are. But he tells you there’s no need, because he’s doing it all for you. If you really want him to finally relax, then you should just accept his love. Pretty please? 

Yandere Popular Boy, who starts smiling more, brighter than he did before. His skin is radiant again, he’s back on top of his classes, and his friends feel like he’s a different person entirely. Of course he is, he’s dating you now! Who cares what his friends think? Do you? If it matters to you that much, he doesn’t mind getting his hands a bit dirty. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who eventually does manage to make good on the dare and take your virginity. Too bad his friends aren't getting any nudes, those are for his eyes only. He loves being able to embrace you, you're so warm and soft, he could just lay with you forever. That night, he falls asleep with a smile on his face, and ignoring your silent tears.

Yandere Popular Boy, who feels like he's living in heaven. You and him are the cutest couple on campus. Sure, he has to coax you to smile sometimes, and you always squirm whenever he has his arm around your waist, but it's fine! This is your first relationship, you'll get used to it, eventually.

Yandere Popular Boy, who promises that he’ll never leave you again. He made that mistake once, and he’ll never make it again. He’s learned his lesson, he promises.

“You’re the only one who gets me, [Name],” He holds your hand in a gentle yet simultaneously firm grip, and kisses the back, “I’m never letting you go again, mkay?” 

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[eilidh-eternal]

Having thoughts of the 141 but as the four horsemen of the apocalypse

Despite being known as the four horseman colloquially within the SAS, none of them got their names because of the way they fight, or for some stupidly brave thing they did on an op. Nope.

Gaz - Pestilence

Has an infectious smile. Literally no one can resist it. Can get anyone to do anything he asks with his smile and is soooo smug about it. Flashes it to the shy little secretary outside Price’s office when he needs a favor with his paperwork, or to the base gate-guard when he forgets his ID. He has tags on his truck for that but he likes seeing them flustered.

Price - War

Do. Not. Play. Risk. With. Him. Price has been banned from game night because the rest of the team is convinced he cheats. No one has ever beaten him at Risk—hasn’t ever come close to outmaneuvering him. Ghost takes it personally too because he’s known him the longest and still hasn’t figured out how to beat him.

Soap - Famine

Man can eat. The rest of the team knows to tell him dinner starts 15 minutes later than it really does because if you don’t beat him to it there won’t be anything left. None of the poor rookies have figured that out yet though, so Gaz always takes a little extra to share.

Ghost - Death

The jokes. Oh god the jokes. It’s not even that they’re particularly funny. It’s his deadpan delivery. He may not know anything more than cheesy military puns, but they’re good for talking rookies down in the field. Soap will never admit it but it helped a lot when he was alone in Las Almas.

NSFW below the cut

Gaz

Absolutely abuses his pretty privilege with the lads and ladies. If you think soap is a big flirt? He has nothing on Gaz. This man is disgustingly, sickeningly charming and sweet, even in bed. Is absolutely the type to have you babbling nonsense, clenching down on him as he rolls his hips languidly and murmurs the sweetest praises against your skin.

“Takin’ me so well, luv. Gonna give me one more, yeah? Gonna let me hear those pretty moans?”

Price

Talks you through it. He’s used to talking his team through missions and trainings, and it’s carried over to the bedroom. Especially when you’ve been a brat all day and you’re bent over his knee, counting each strike of his hand against the swell of your ass.

“Only 5 more, don’t get quiet on me now. If I can’t hear you I’ll keep going until you can do it right. That’s what this is for, isn’t it? To teach you to do things the right way?”

Soap

Goes down on you like he’s starving. Absolutely does it for his own pleasure, and is downright nasty about it. Begs you to let him do it, complains that he needs it, that he has to know what you taste like.

Won’t stop whining until you shove his face between your legs to shut him up, and even then he’s sucking and slurping and making lewd sounds, moaning and begging for you to cum on his tongue until he’s had his fill.

Ghost

Listen. He may be an Englishman, but Ghost fucks like the French and you can’t convince me otherwise.

La petite mort.

If he doesn’t leave you limp and tingly all over, he hasn’t finished the job. Will go as many rounds as it takes to see you dumb on his cock, so fucked out your eyes are glazed over and the only name you can remember is his.

[notjustjavierpena]

Hurried Morning

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Back already with something for you all. Hopefully you’ll enjoy what I wrote yesterday morning. Ah! I love young Joel Miller, neighborhood dilf.

Summary: Joel neglects himself before you have to leave to give you one last dopamine high.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (minors DNI), clit stimulation, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, Joel has big strong hands and just likes to please if he is in control

Word count: 1.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47667250

Hurried Morning

Joel says that he is merely feeling generous with you as he pulls your half-naked frame into his lap, so that your back is resting comfortably against his broad chest. You want to say that he is simply lazy but it’s not like you are ever going to let that slip from your mouth.

It’s late Sunday morning and you’re both seated against the headboard of Joel’s bed. Sarah will be home just before noon, and Joel has to change his bedsheets, air out the room, have a shower and maybe fix up some lunch for him and his daughter. You, on the other hand, just have to get cleaned up and go home before she is here.

He doesn’t have to tell you about his generosity; you know he is insatiable, giving and generous by now, actually knew about a week after the first night that he had taken you to his bed. You know it is cliche to sleep with the hot neighbor, but no one knows about it yet, so you’ll bask in the beauty of how he makes you tremble until someone finds out that you’re screwing the hot single father. You pray, no pun intended, it isn’t the God-fearing Adlers.

You’re in a loose t-shirt that screams weekend, a Batman logo on your chest, but beneath the hem, a pair of cotton panties with a little bow cover your core. You rest your head against Joel’s shoulder as he rests right hand just above your belly button, it seeming undecided at whether or not to go down. His left hand is placed on top of your thigh, scratching slightly until you shiver.

“Do you have a plan with those hands?” You ask him.

“We ain’t got much time,” he muses with a sigh in his pretty little Texas accent. You squirm a little, “I’ll just have to forget myself for a moment, hopefully I’ll forgive myself for it.”

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You ask with disappointment in your tone but the left hand curls around your thigh to pull it a little to the side, opening you up for him.

“‘Fraid not, sweetheart, but I’ll have you chanting my name anyway,” he spreads out your other leg too, noses along your throat and grins into your skin as he sees your toes curl in anticipation.

“O-okay,” you reply, simply waiting for more.

Joel kisses your throat then, right hand descending to hover over your underwear. He only hesitates for a split-second before he cups your sex, fingers sliding over your cunt and then rubbing his whole palm over you to feel the warmth radiating through the fabric. You sigh contentedly.

“Feels good?” He asks, holding his hand there for a moment and a bit of slick seeps out of you. For someone who said that you were short on time together, he sure is taking it.

“Yes,” you try to breathe in deeply but the breath ends up hitching in your throat as he finds your clit on the outside of your underwear. The pads of his index- and middle finger rub slow and lazy circles.

“So this is what we’re gonna do,” he booms behind you. You ready yourself for instructions, “I’ll make you come on my fingers, and then you’re gonna go home and not think ‘bout me all day and night. Night, do you hear me? Especially all night.”

Oh good lord, that went straight to your pussy. You nod quickly, “Whatever you say. I’ll do it.”

The fingers on your clit disappear again but only so Joel can use his thumb instead, and you’re reminded of how huge his hands and fingers are. He presses down on your sensitive nub for a moment, and blood rushes between your legs.

His free hand goes from your thigh to slide up under your t-shirt, cupping one of your breasts to squeeze before his thumb and forefinger tease your nipple. It hardens immediately, and you instinctively buck up your hips. It makes Joel hum behind you, and soon, you feel his generous size poke into the small of your back. It is unbearable to remember that he told you that he won’t put it in you.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know,” he tells you as you moan into the room, turning your head so your face is towards his jaw. You have your eyes squeezed shut as he scratches a little from side to side, making you clench around nothing but emptiness. He continues speaking filth, “I know, baby. I’ll touch you properly soon. Hang in there.”

Your legs shift a little on the sheets when he starts going in circles again, coaxing more arousal out of you until your panties feel sticky. To think that you were happy that you had a pair that wasn’t ruined by him, and with a chance of being dry underneath the jeans that you were going to wear as you walked home later.

You moan a little louder as a bolt of arousal pulls from inside your cunt and goes to your clit. You can feel it pulse against the fabric, against Joel’s thick finger.

“You can have it all, baby— shit, listen to you,” he gropes your breast obscenely, even tugs a little, as he rubs you off with a little more pressure. You want more than this, want him to go inside and relieve some of the pressure that builds inside of you.

“Please, Joel,” you plead shakily, “It’s not enough.”

“I know, never is,” he removes both hands from your body but only to slide them up and down your thighs a few times, finally going inwards to grab on either side of the front of your underwear. He pulls the fabric upwards and taut against your clit, making you whimper as he doesn’t relent quickly again, “Bet you could come so prettily like this. Bet you you’ll go home and do it to yourself later whilst not thinking of me.”

Joel’s breath is hot against the shell of your ear, even slightly elevated from what the both of you are doing. He is still rock hard against you, so you grind back into him.

“Stop,” he commands immediately. His hand flies up to grab the front of your throat, fingers digging slightly into your carotid artery and making your head spin.

“It won’t go away without me,” you pout as he lets go again when your hips have stilled.

“This ain’t about me,” he tells you, then follows up patting your swollen cunt a few times on the front of your underwear. You keen, and he shushes you softly, “This is about you. About her.”

The fabric has smoothed out once more after Joel had to let go of it, so now, both of his hands slide underneath the waistband to touch you directly. He trails a finger from each hand over your labia, expertly avoiding your clit. They go down, one scooping up some of your slick by dipping into your for just a second before going back up.

You are shaking like a leaf, a string of noises leaving you. They were supposed to be words but it’s like you have lost connection to the part of your brain that controls speech. Joel chuckles behind you.

He rubs your clit again with his arousal-covered finger for a moment but then decides against it. For less than a second, you start to feel the pressures in your lower abdomen fade but then Joel uses his other hand to pull back the hood of your clit. When his slick finger starts touching you so directly, you can feel it spike immediately again. It is intense. You thrash on the bed.

“Fuck!” You cry out and look down where his hands are in your panties, moving and straining pornographically underneath the fabric, “Keep going. You’re— you’ll make me come like this.”

“That’s not the plan,” he growls in your ear, panting slightly but not making any effort to stop what he is doing, “I’ll make you fucking gush, yeah? Just like last night. Sheets have to be changed anyway or I’ll smell you on them and fuck my hand without getting any shit done around here.”

“Then do it,” you buck up into his hand like before, but this time also lifting your hips off the bed just slightly. Joel removes the finger from the hood of your clit to slam down your hips again, but despite everything, it just feels nice to not be so directly touched. You don’t want to know what you could’ve missed if you had come right now.

Roughly, the way you like it, Joel pulls your panties to the side. He reaches further down and shoves two fingers inside of your cunt, tilting his wrist downwards to finger against your g-spot quickly. The wet squelches of your wetness fill the room along with your mewls as your orgasm builds again without warning.

Your hands find purchase on Joel’s strong thighs but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Something is building right behind your clit, all muscles around your womb tightening like a coil being pulled. You want it, want it to snap.

“Please, please, please, oh fuck, Joel, make me come,” you are inconsolable, knowing that you’ll start sobbing if it doesn’t happen soon.

“Should’ve had a mirror right in front of us, so you can see my fingers sink into your little pussy,” he moans for the first time, feeling your walls flutter around his two digits and your clit throbbing against his index finger on the other hand. He rubs you and fucks you open in earnest.

Your right hand reaches up to cup the back of his head, fingers curling into the soft hair at the back of his neck. You hold on for dear life, pulling then to embrace what is coming. Joel growls behind you.

And then it happens. Everything that has been pulled tight releases into a high that has you feeling like you’ll melt into the mattress or lift off into the air from it. Your legs shake violently, and as soon as Joel notices the first spasm of your cunt, he pulls his fingers out to see the wet gush that leaves you and forms a stain on the sheets. He fingers you again and repeats the move, watches you gush a few times more.

You quickly grab at his wrist with a sharp intake of breath when the over sensitivity sets in. He stops moving his fingers on you and instead cups what he feels is his more than yours.

“Christ,” you hear him mutter, attempting to rub your cunt soothingly but you whimper, gripping his wrist tighter. He kisses behind your ear, “Wore the little plaything out, didn’t I?”

“What time is it?” You ask quietly, exhaustedly.

“We have an hour,” Joel says after looking at his wristwatch that is on the bedside table, “Think you should take a cold shower, soothe yourself a little.”

“You’re not joining me?” You look up at him with big innocent eyes. They’re pleasing but Joel is strong enough to resist.

“I’ll clean up here, finish up here too or we won’t make it out of the bathroom in time. Can you stand?”

You accept it.

“Yes, hold on,” you crawl off of him, avoiding the wet spot on the bed. You’ll accept anything from a man that has just given you an earth shattering orgasm.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[g-xix]

🔞Boxer | Arthur Tv

context: Arthur used to box n i think that's LENG so here's a 1.2k blurb summary: Boxer!ArthurTV returning to the locker rooms after his fight to get the medical attention he needs from the first aider who's subsequently the coach's daughter... and the girl who makes Arthur's cock hard <3 | Boxer ATV x first aider, coach's daughter!reader CWs: very light smut, just dry humping and making out really

"Oh my God, Arthur!" You hissed his name as he attacked your neck, gasp falling from your lips as he ruthlessly sucked and bruised the flesh, completely remorseless with his near bruising grip of his still wrapped and bandaged hands on either of your hips.

"Please don't stop me, I literally haven't been able to fuck anything for weeks-"

You could feel the boxer's shorts tightening as the words fell from his lips, and you had to knot your fingers through his locks and pull him away from your neck to take the gumshield out of the desperate man's mouth and look over his face - having only just returned from the ring before rushing to you - scanning for injury.

"My God you look so fucking good when you're being all professional," Arthur groaned again as he took in the way that your eyes zipped across his face, lashes lengthened with mascara and plump lower lip taken between your lip as you inspected the boxer's face for injury.

He couldn't help himself pressing his lips to yours - throwing you off guard as he didn't waste a single moment by starting at level 0 and working his way up - no, his tongue slot between your lips and let you taste metal - blood - in your mouth from the boxer's cut gum, his tongue ravaging your mouth and taking your breath away as you found yourself falling into his tricks and wanting to entertain the kiss and contact with him. Thus, you had to pull back before you lost every shred of self-restraint and ended up letting him fuck you against the lockers right then and there.

"Arthur- my dad could come in any minute and see you!" You had to remind him, swatting his hands away from your hips despite your love for the way those long appendages sat across your skin, squeezing and rubbing over you with veins wrapping around the backs of his hands and making the prettiest sight as they ran up his thick forearms - densely packed with muscle that lead up to even thicker biceps - triceps - delts - 

You'd entertained yourself in biting the defined muscles time and time again behind closed doors, layering them with hickey after hickey which had Arthur's coach - your dad - telling him that "Whoever's giving you these needs to stop - you're only giving your opponent weak spots for them to target!" 

Arthur took great pleasure in knowing that his only weak spot was actually his coach's daughter - you - whenever you looked up at Arthur with those big eyes, batting your lashes and speaking with hushed tones as you dabbed his forehead with antiseptic and put bandages over his wounds.

His lips were bruised - sore from the punches that he'd taken to the his face - and yet even when they were pressed against yours, aching and shooting pain down his nerves as his bodily reflexes told him to stop - Arthur really couldn't get enough of the feeling of you, as that pain become a dulcet daydream in the back of his mind whilst he lost himself in making love to you.

He was truly desperate for you.

And whilst Arthur had been gracious enough to stop the attack on your face, giving you a moment to mop the cut on his brow and cut the tape into small enough strips to act as temporary stitches on top of the wound, the blood that'd rushed South had Arthur fostering a sizeable boner which he was impatient with getting sorted. You realised that the hard way (no pun intended), as the boxer rocked his hips into you - the bulge within his shorts slotting between your thighs and letting the head stimulate your clothed clit (though it was only covered by a thin pair of thin, material shorts) and all down your slit, whilst he himself rocked himself back and forth - groaning at the stimulation of your soft thighs enclosed around his sensitive hard'on.

"You are shameless," You muttered as you allowed his hands to grapple at your hips needily, stabilising himself by pinning yours hips to the locker-room wall. He really was like an animal that was in some sort of insatiable heat, as he continued the gentle assault whilst you tried to wipe away the blood across his temple. 

Your focus couldn't help but revert to the abs - glistening and tanned, still layered with a thin sheen of sweat that smelled of lust to you, and made you want to get on your knees and kiss over each and every abdominal muscle he'd worked so hard to foster within camp, before pulling off his shorts and taking him in your mouth whilst he ate you out.

You wanted to mark him up and have him in your mouth, your pussy, finishing on you, in you, for you and with you - and yet you had to groan and nestle your head into the crook of his neck to not escalate the situation and have him balls deep inside of you when you knew your Dad was in the next room - waiting for him to come out, bandaged and clean after having finished with you - the resident first-aider on duty.

"Hurry up, Arthur, they're getting these trophies ready - you need to come out and collect yours for the presentation!" Your Dad's voice called out from the next room, fist slamming against the door as a warning to hurry up. 

Arthur huffed from besides you. "Have I ever told you how much I hate your Dad?"

"Yep, every time he makes you do extra push-ups because he says you stare at me too much." You quipped, and again, Arthur just groaned and buried his head into the top of yours, smelling your fruity conditioner and vanilla body spray. 

"ARTHUR! How much longer?!" Your Dad yelled once more, angrier this time.

"COMING, coming!" Arthur called out in response, having to withdraw and tuck himself into the shorts he wore to disguise any signs of arousal when he received his trophy.

Although before Arthur could leave you - his hands still attached to your hips - he leant in, pressing his lips to your ears as his words came out a husky whisper, almost growl from the way he was so needy for you:

"You know where my dorm is, I swear to fuck if I don't find you there tonight I'm gonna make sure you can't walk for the next week."

And whilst you would've loved to have frustrated the man and have him brutally fucking you to fulfil his promise - you were of course waiting on Arthur's bed when he got back to his Uni dorm, wearing one of his workout tops that was well oversized on your frame, and wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

LONG TIME WITHOUT AN ATV FIC!! This is my apology xx... It's a lot shorter than the fics i try make but it's sm easier to write, so lmk - are these still okay to post pls and ty?? Anyways, regardless, hope you horny little freaks enjoyed this one xxx ALSO creds to @live-laugh-lenney for writing a boxer!atv smth smth which inspired this asw

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

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[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

****************************************************

Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

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As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[atomicladytimetravel]

Employees Only

Summary: No outbreak AU. Joel Miller owns Miller Contracting and you are his assistant. When Joel gets the bid from a huge client, he celebrates by doing what any sane man would do…banging the assistant.

Warnings: Porn with very little plot. Drug use (marijuana), Boss/Employee relations, Smut/Explicit. Contains sex under the influence of marijuana, nipple play/stimulation, oral (f and m receiving) light gagging, fingering, Joel’s a little cocky about his dick (pun intended). Joel is a simp for you. No physical description of reader, other than female.

18+ only - MDNI

Friday. Fucking finally. Not only is it the end of your work week, but it’s also the end of you spending longer evenings than usual helping your boss put together a bid for one of the biggest clients he could ever hope to acquire. You can’t do any real complaining though - Joel made sure you were well compensated for your extra time and (let’s just face it) he sure is fun to look at. Not to mention the, you know, huge fucking crush you’ve had on the man for…well, for probably about as long as you’ve worked for him. Suffice to say, you’d do juuuuust about anything Joel asked you to do.

You’re making your way to your favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, the air conditioning in your car blasting to combat the sweltering Texas heat. You have to pass the small office building that houses Miller Contracting on your way to get to the Chinese place and, even though it’s damn near ten o’clock, Joel’s old pickup truck still sits in its usual parking space. Curious, you pull out your phone and select his name from your recent call log. He answers on the first ring.

“Now why are you callin’ me this late darlin’?” he drawls. His speech is raspy and a little slow; he sounds so fucking sexy.

“Oh no reason really, just wondering why I see your truck parked at the office,” you respond. He chuckles a little.

“You stalkin’ me or something?”

You smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“In your dreams, Miller,” you retort playfully. “I’m on my way to get some food and I just so happened to pass by.”

“Well, I was gonna wait until Monday and tell you in person, but…Avalon Premier Hotels accepted our bid.”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you hear yourself gasp.

“Joel, oh my god! That’s incredible news!” you squeal excitedly. On the other end of the call, Joel thinks to himself that he would very much like to hear those first four words again in a much different context.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel has been smitten since you stepped foot in his office for the first time. He internally cursed his HR department that day for hiring the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But they had done just as he’d asked and hired the best damn person for the job. Joel has told you on more than one occasion that he has no idea how he made it without you.

“I’m just over here celebrating a little. The sound system Tommy insisted we put in the employee lounge outdoes mine by a long shot and I wanted to hear some music,” he explains further. “You should come join me. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You look down at your outfit - a tank top, no bra and a pair of what are quite possibly the shortest shorts you own - and contemplate the offer. You remember you’re off the clock and think, “the hell with it, he can’t dress code me now.”

“Sure,” you accept. “You want some Chinese food?”

——————

When you open the front door to the office, you’re immediately hit by the pungent aroma of marijuana. Ah, now his slow, raspy speech makes sense. When you enter the employee lounge, you find Joel manspread on the couch, a fat blunt dangling from his lips. He’s changed out of the button up you had drooled over all day and into a Miller Contracting t-shirt that hugged his delicious biceps. Nirvana is playing loudly over the sound system and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you plop the food down on the coffee table. His eyes rake over your body unashamedly and you find yourself blushing under his gaze. He reaches for the remote and turns the music down.

“God damn sugar, I didn’t realize I’d be gettin’ dinner and a show.”

“It’s like 103 degrees right now Joel. Besides, I’m off the clock,” you remind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” he winks. You eye him suspiciously, but he just smiles innocently. He pats the couch cushion next to him and when you sit down, he holds the blunt to your lips. “You deserve t’relax a little, too.”

You take the blunt between your lips and inhale the smoke, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through your nose. You’re not exactly a stranger to pot, but it has been a while since you’ve smoked any. It doesn’t take long at all for the foggy feeling to take over, your body feeling weightless. The munchies kick in soon after, and you and Joel practically inhale the Chinese food. As you eat, another blunt is passed back and forth and you’re soon the highest you can ever remember being.

Joel cleans up the remnants of your dinner and you sink into the couch cushions, your fuzzy brain content to just stare at nothing. When he returns, he sits so close to you that your thighs touch. He leans back and throws his arm around the cushion behind you. You’re close enough to smell his cologne and that plus the fact that he’s so close makes you want him, bad.

“This may have been a bad idea. Weed makes me so horny,” you say. You had wholeheartedly intended for that to be a thought and not something you said aloud to your boss. You’re mortified when you realize that the words actually came out of your mouth. Before you can even attempt to apologize, though, Joel responds.

“Oh yeah? You want some help with that?” He looks down at you expectantly and you stare back at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“I…y-yeah, yes,” you stammer. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled onto his lap; the fabric of your shorts is thin and you can feel just how hard he already is beneath the denim of his jeans. He kisses you with the passion of someone who’s been starved of affection. He holds you tightly close to his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Please tell me this is real,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“It’s real,” you giggle, resting your forehead against his.

“You are so pretty. Absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says softly. You kiss again, open mouthed and tongues swirling together. You grind your hips onto him, trying to relieve the aching between your thighs. He puts his hands on your hips to stop them.

“Ain’t gotta do all that now. I’ll take care of ya soon, understand?” he says sternly. You let out a tiny, pathetic whimper but nod in agreement. He shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to tap your lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

“Yes what?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Fuck, I just knew you would be. You want to be my good girl, hm?”

The whole time he’s been talking, his hands have been roaming farther and farther under your tank top. His fingertips brushing against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Yes sir,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’s cupping your breasts now, thumbs swiping repeatedly over your nipples. The urge to grind on him again is overwhelming, but you hold still. You whine softly when he removes his hands and he shushes you.

“Relax sweet thing. I just want to get this shirt off of ya is all.”

He pushes the shirt up your torso and you raise your arms to let him pull it over your head. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your breasts and pushes them together before burying his face between them.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles against your skin. He puts his mouth all over your breasts, sucking and nibbling and making you want to rock your hips so badly you can hardly stand it. You gasp softly when he latches on to your nipple, sucking until the bud has hardened. When he switches to the other side, you can’t help but roll your hips, craving some sort of relief.

“Ah, ah,” he admonishes, his hands holding onto your hips firmly. “What did I say?”

“I’m sorry,” you pout. “I just need you to touch me so bad sir.”

“Oh, is that all?” he teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He pinches both nipples between his fingers gently. “How’s this?”

“It feels good, but I need more sir.”

“Hmmm…no, I think I’ll see if I can make you cum like this first.”

No one has ever tried to make you orgasm this way, and you’re not even sure it’s possible. You tell him this, but he just shakes his head.

“Can I try? If it doesn’t work for you, we can move on, I promise.”

“Yes sir, you can try.”

He smiles softly and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to squeeze a little harder, just let me know if you start feelin’ anything besides good.”

It feels amazing. Pleasure surges through you and you tip your head back, your hands gripping onto his shoulders to keep you steady. He alternates between pinching and rolling and you concentrate on the throbbing between your legs. He squeezes just a bit harder and it feels so good that a drawn out moan passes through your lips.

“Yeah sugar? How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Good. R-really good,” you respond breathlessly. “Maybe a little harder.”

“How’s this baby?” he asks as he pinches a little harder. There’s a little pain this time, but it’s a delicious kind of hurt.

“Oh!” you gasp, surprised to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. “Don’t stop please, it feels so good.”

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your throat. He keeps the pressure and rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your eyes flutter and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“You’re close aren’tcha? What a good girl; go ahead and let it go baby.”

With his encouragement, an orgasm washes over you and you hear yourself shouting his name. With one hand still tweaking a nipple, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as you shake above him. When you come down, your eyes open to see Joel looking at you with a mix of awe and adoration.

“That was the most beautiful god damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says before capturing your lips in a needy kiss. He sets you gently back on the couch and stands above you, squeezing the length of his cock through his jeans.

“God damn, I swear I stay hard for you,” he groans. “You know how many times I’ve shot my load thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

“Probably as many times as I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.”

“You mean we coulda been doin’ this all along?” he asks, still palming himself through his jeans. You lean back into the corner of the couch and press your middle finger to your clit over your shorts while you watch him; something about the action turns you on so much.

“You’re my boss Joel,” you point out.

“I also own this company doll. I can do whatever I want,” he reminds you. He pulls his shirt over his head and you finally get to see the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long. His shoulders are broad and his arms are thick. His midsection is soft, but you can still see v-lines disappearing into his jeans. He undresses down to his boxer briefs and you watch, mesmerized, when he slowly pulls his belt through its loops. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more turned on. He kneels in front of you and taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them.

“Up,” he commands. You lift your hips and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. He drags them down your legs and is pleasantly surprised to see your lack of panties.

“No bra, no panties? What a naughty girl,” he tuts.

“Told ya I was dressed for comfort.”

He doesn’t respond, just tosses the shorts aside and admires your naked form.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he says, shaking his head. He showers your body with kisses, sucking occasionally on your most sensitive places. You’ll be covered in hickeys later, splotchy red and purple reminders of how Joel worships your body. He places his palms on the insides of your knees and spreads them, giving himself a view of your glistening pussy. He spreads your lips with his first two fingers to admire what he considers a work of art.

“Look how pretty,” he murmurs. Before you can utter a response, he leans in and licks you from opening to clit. He alternates between this and kitten licking your clit and you have to fight yourself to not start riding his face.

“Fuck, you got the sweetest little pussy darlin’,” he groans into your center. He hooks his arms behind your knees and begins to eat you out with fervor. He swirls patterns on your clit with his tongue, dipping it into your entrance every now and then. You’re enjoying it too much to notice that he spells “J O E L” on your clit with his tongue, silently claiming your pussy as his.

“Mmm, fuck Joel, it feels so good,” you whine. You feel two thick fingers slide into your entrance and you buck your hips at the sensation. He flattens his free hand over your belly and pins you to the couch cushions. He curls his fingers into your g-spot as his tongue continues to flick over your clit and your moans mix with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Joel, oh my god!” you shout, your head falling back onto the arm of the couch. And there they were, those four words he’d wished to hear just over an hour ago. He’s never heard anything so beautiful in his life. You hear him moan and you lift your head to watch him. His eyes are hooded and his free hand is in his boxers stroking his cock. It’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god I’m so close,” you moan. He sucks your clit once, twice and on the third time, you come apart for him. He can’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he watches you tremble, his name tumbling from your lips like a chant. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re shiny with your spend. He spreads them apart and a string of fluid connects them.

“Look at the mess you made for me baby,” he marvels. He brings his fingers to your lips and you open for him; you suck his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. You hear him moan softly when you swirl your tongue around the digits. He stands and you can see how painfully hard he is through his boxer briefs. You can’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, wondering how he walks around with that thing between his legs. He sees you staring and smirks.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” you nod, blushing a little at being caught staring. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his underwear down, cock springing free and practically smacking him in the stomach. Your eyes widen when you see his size. He’s thick and probably around eight or nine inches. He wraps a hand around it and strokes a few times.

“Think you can put it in your mouth for me? I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock,” he says, smoothing his other hand over your hair.

“Yes sir, wanna make you feel good,” you respond obediently, sitting up from your reclined position.

“Oh, what a good girl,” he praises. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the precum seeping out.

“Oh fuuuuuck baby girl,” he rasps. You hollow out your cheeks and slowly inch him in your mouth. You put your hands on his hips as you bob your head back and forth. His hand flies to your hair when you pull all the way back to his tip before plunging him down your throat. You gag a little bit and pull back some, tears prickling at your eyes. You repeat the process until there are tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Shit baby, you give such good fuckin’ head,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look at ya, chokin’ on my cock.”

He lets you gag a few more times before he pulls your head back gently. He looks down at you sweetly and wipes the tears from your cheeks before offering his hand to help you up.

“You did so good f’me baby, gaggin’ on this big cock like a pro. I wanna stuff that pretty pussy now, though. Get on your knees f’me.”

You settle onto your knees, resting your palms on the back of the couch. A stinging smack lands on your right ass cheek and you moan.

“There’s that gorgeous ass I love to look at,” he says, squeezing it appreciatively. He lays his palm flat on your lower back, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He pushes the tip into your entrance and your walls stretch around him. He’s a bit bigger than anything you’ve taken before and it stings for just a moment, making you whimper.

“I know it’s big baby girl. I’m gonna go slow,” he coos. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips as he inches himself inside.

“You’re doin’ so good, takin’ me so well,” he praises.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full,” you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Yeah baby? You like bein’ full of my big cock?”

“God yeah, it feels so good.”

He squeezes your hips affectionately as he sets a languid pace. He’s only been inside you for a minute and you know that no other man will be good enough ever again.

“Fuck, this is the best god damn pussy I’ve ever had,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Like it was made just for me.”

You begin to push back and meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in sync. His grip on your ass is so tight that you’re sure half moon shaped indentions will be left behind from his fingernails.

“That’s it baby, bounce back on my dick,” he grits out. He smacks your ass and groans appreciatively as it ripples underneath his palm. “Does it feel good baby, hmm? Tell me how good it feels, lemme hear you.”

“F-feels so good. You’re making my little pussy feel s-so fucking good.”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you up so that your bodies are flush; he moves your hair aside and puts his lips to your ear as his thrusts become faster and more aggressive.

“I’m gonna destroy your pussy this weekend baby,” he says in a gravelly whisper. “I’ve been waitin’ so long. Might have to carry you into work Monday.”

“Oh god, please,” you mewl in response.

“Yeah baby? You’d like that huh, takin’ this cock all weekend?”

“Yes, oh god yes, your cock feels so good!”

He reaches around to toy with your clit and your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant. He rubs your clit faster, pressing a frenzied kiss to your lips.

“That’s it, give it to me baby girl. Cum all over my cock.”

You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself as you cum hard around him. He talks you through it, whispering lowly in your ear.

“There ya go baby, let it go. Doing so good f’me darlin’.”

Once you’ve come back to earth, he pulls out gently and sits down on the couch. He takes you by the hand and guides you to straddle him again.

“I wanna see you baby,” he explains. “You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You sink onto his cock and he rests his hands on your hips. He guides your hips back and forth slowly and it feels so good that you attempt to speed up.

“No baby, let’s go slow,” he says, looking into your eyes. “Just enjoy this with me, yeah?”

You smile softly, saying, “yes sir” before grabbing his face and kissing him. His arms wrap around your torso and he holds you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“I want you to be my girl. Tell me you’ll be my girl baby.”

You respond without hesitation, “I’m yours Joel, all yours.”

The two of you share another kiss; Joel can no longer hold back and he plants his feet firmly on the ground so that he can thrust up into you.

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he pants. “My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as he pounds into your g-spot. “Joel, fuck baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby girl. Should I pull out?”

“No! I want you inside me. Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me so bad.”

“God damn, dirty little thing,” he grunts. “Gonna fill this little pussy so much.”

“Oh god, I’m cumming,” you announce, clenching around his cock. A chorus of, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck YES,” comes from your mouth. Joel makes a deep, guttural sound and spills inside of you, hugging your trembling body tight.

“Shit,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Good?” he asks hopefully, just as breathless as you are.

“Good? Amazing. Incredible.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could actually go again. How about you let me take you back to my place and I’ll put you in my jetted tub, hm? We’ll take a nice bath, maybe smoke a little more and then I’ll fuck you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

It’s your turn to grin and you give him a long, burning kiss.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.”

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Also don't think anyone has said this (thats a joke) but like, art styles aside:

The animation, expressions, movement, everything of ATSV is IMPECCABLE.

Like insanely, ridiculously, almost mind bogglingly good.

[This is a MEDIUM length post]

The main strength is the Emotion -

In terms of animation, the range of emotions Miguel is capable of expressing is like... crazy good. Gwen's emotions ARE UNSPEAKABLY IMPRESSIVE.

LIKE...ANIMATING HER FUCKING BREATHING???? AND BLINKS!! AS AN EMOTIONAL CUE. HELLO???!!

And the movie hinges on this - almost every scene has an emotional cue that HAS to hit. Whether is Jess's looks of hesitation or Peter B.'s looks of horror.

And this may seem like the most ridiculous comparison ever made but like...

The Bee Movie and Across the Spider-Verse came out FIFTEEN YEARS APART.

THE BEE MOVIE...THIS MONSTRASITY that has plagued humankind - was made less than two decades from THIS:

The fact that we progressed that far as a society (pun intended) in that short of a time will never not baffle me.

I genuinely cannot name any other animated movie that:

Has multiple styles throughout the duration

Can seamlessly change styles without the viewer immediately noticing (like Gwen returning to her universe)

Show two or more animation styles on screen at the same time (and no, Roger Rabbit and Space Jam don't count - that's half live action lol)

Just off the top of my head - ATSV shows up to three styles in one scene: I'm mainly thinking of the scene that shows Hobie (customized - style 1), Peter B. (standard - style 2), and Miguel (a light stylized - style 3).

It can be brought to four if you want to count Miles/Gwen, though their style isn't visible.

I can think of a couple scenes that genuinely blew me away in terms of animation -

One being Rio's 'What-EVER?!' because of the little stance correction and head bob she does, because it's such a natural thing to do. And it adds so much to an already perfect line.

It's something someone would genuinely do IRL without even noticing.

Another I LOVE is Pavitr and Hobie roughhousing.

Like, I can't yell about these five seconds of animation more.

It's SO fluid it looks like Motion-Capture and I left the theatre googling is any Mo-Cap was used in the movie (and from what I can tell - no, it's all original animation).

The way Pavitr falls to the side and bumps them - This not only being a natural reaction to Hobie and his weight, but it also LOOKS natural. So much so you can see it affect Hobie's model too. The movement has kinetic energy on both models -

Which is AMAZING CONSIDERING THEY'RE ANIMATED ON LIKE FOUR DIFFERENT TIMES.

In this shot alone, there's the guitar, vest, AND Hobie, all of which have their own animation rules. Plus the outline on his guitar AND him. And then there PAVI too, who's running at a higher frame rate, touching and interacting with Hobie.

So much so that Hobie's model nearly wraps himself around Pavi. Pavi's hair is moving, Hobie's guitar is moving, there's movement in the background - and it looks GREAT.

PLUS THE CAMERA IS MOVING AND GOSTLING. IT'S NOT A STATIC SHOT. The models and camera are moving AS IF THEY'RE REAL when they're not.

That's - My..I CAN EVEN COMPUTE THAT.

But by far, I think the range of expression used on Miguel is like... Chef's kiss.

(of course I was gonna trick you into reading another post about Miguel. Uh-huh that's what's about to happen)

Like... are you kidding me?

NAH DEADASS ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????

The whole later half of the movie hinges on Miguel looking buckwild crazy insane and they NAIL that. And like-

Oh my god what the actual fuck

?????????????????????????? I........ I have nothing to add. After that picture......Nah... LMAOOO

(left: actual photo of Moche watching this happen)

But Anyway chile, This movie is like.. genuinely a modern marvel.

If Marvel gave Tim Gunn 4 billion dollars and five years, whatever live-action rendition he would have made would not even compare to ATSV on any conceivable level - that's how good it is so jot that down.

And like...don't even get me started on Hobie..his design..his representation...girl I will start crying in this Arby's do not play with me

I just felt that needed to be said.

you get what I'm saying yall know what I mean iight coo

Here's a picture of Hobie to cleanse your palette.

Bye.

[freedomfireflies]

I’ve been thinking of how would it be to talk to H by mistake like you go on a club and try to get this boy’s phone but he ends up giving you the wrong number and when you message him turns out it’s harry’s phone and you 2 get along so he asks you to meet up😭😭 TRY IT PLSSSS

Why should you never fight a dinosaur?

You wait with bated breath for the response, eyes widening when you see those familiar three bubbles rolling across the screen.

Uh…I don’t know? Why?

You grin. Because you’ll get jurasskicked.

Silence.

Then…the bubbles.

Okay, alright, you got me. That was good.

Pleased, you settle back against your headboard, lip between your teeth. Sorry, I’m sure it’s not very cool to text someone an hour after you leave them in a bar but…hey, you said you liked dad jokes. Figured I’d end your night on a good note.

Exactly three minutes pass before you see him type. Bar?

Yeah. Oh, sorry, this is the girl who wouldn’t stop singing It’s Raining Men and throwing back tequila shots before jumping into your lap.

You hit send, then quickly add in a separate text, Sorry about that, by the way.

Four minutes pass this time, and despite yourself, you feel a bit nervous.

That sounds like a lot of fun, but unfortunately…I don’t think that was me.

You frown. Wait, what? This is Braden, right?

More bubbles. Damn, his name was Braden? Yikes. But no, I can’t claim to be Braden, I’m sorry to say.

Fuck. Your heart drops as you glance around your room. Had he given you the wrong number on purpose? You thought you’d had a connection, and so did your friends as they urged you to ask for his number.

Maybe you’d read the signs wrong?

The bubbles appear again. Have you heard the joke about the butter?

Your head tilts. Uh…no?

Oh, I better not tell you. It might…spread.

You snort, snuggling back down into the covers before pulling the phone closer as you watch another text deliver.

I’m Harry, by the way.

Your fingers dance along the screen, feeling a bit relieved despite the obvious disappointment. Hi, Harry. Sorry about the miscommunication.

Don’t sweat it, Harry types. I love dad jokes.

You smile.

I do not like Braden, though, he adds, and you can’t help but chuckle. Sounds like a dick, to be honest.

You shrug, even though he can’t see you. He wasn’t so bad. It was loud in there anyway. Maybe I just heard him wrong.

A minute passes before the bubbles pop up and your heart leaps. 

Why is your heart leaping?

Well, his loss is my gain. You got any more jokes?

I have a joke about pizza! But…it’s too cheesy.

Oh, god. Oh that was…yeah. That was bad. That was really bad. That was not…grate.

“Oh, my god,” you whisper aloud, grinning wildly before typing, Oh, like you can do feta?

He takes a minute to think. I’ll be honest, I’m not very gouda. 

You wince, although you can’t deny your amusement. Yeah, this is nacho thing.

But I’m having a hole lot of fun.

You begin to type a response, but he sends another text before you can:

…get it? Cause…hole? Like Swiss?

You laugh again. No, I got it. It was very…sharp.

You hope that made him chuckle.

I like you, Cheese Girl, he says, and your cheeks flush. Hope you don’t feel so bleu.

I’m much cheddar now, you type. Thank you.

A minute passes. No problem. Listen, I gouda go but…this was fun. If you ever think of any more puns…send ‘em my way, yeah?

And despite the fact that Harry is a total stranger to you, and that you’d kind of been expecting to talk to Braden tonight, and really…cheese puns aren’t exactly sexy…

…you feel disappointed to see him go. 

You swallow and straighten up, taking a second before replying, Absolutely. I think this is the start of a brie-utiful friendship.

He responds with a laughing emoji, followed by, Goodnight, Cheese Girl.

You smile.

Goodnight, Harry.

It’s not exactly on par with the request, but this was honestly so much fun that I was kind of thinking I’d make it a couple of parts 😭 Thank you so much to whoever asked!!!💞 I hope it’s okay!

~ iFall for Harry pt. 2 (the second part to this!)

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

[i-cannot-think-of-anything16]

TADC JAX X MALE READER That's easy to fluster! HC's!

Bro is gonna be the end of you, Rip

A/N(before!) This is gonna be fun also I can't make the TADC rainbow anymore :( I tried, Also I'm making this cuz the last one did super well

A/N(After!) It's midnight I'm tired and I'm happy to get this over with and thank you all for 100+ likes on the last one I made even though it was Just mainly Fluff

Warning(s) flirting (obviously) and teasing (ALSO obviously)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Oh dear God did he think this was fun

He teased (and flirted with you) so Goddamn much

Did this until he would get bored

And after he Started Cushing on you?

P R A Y

Fucking pray for your life Bro

He's Gonna be discreetly Flirting with you Just to see you blush

And when you Gays started dating? (Pun intended)

Oh your life is over

This Sucker Will kiss you randomly and Shower you in compliments (in private of course)

And if you ask him To Stop?

He will

For 5 minutes at best

After you guys Start dating for a while he'll just lean on you and rest his head on you cuz he knows that'll make you blush even just a little bit

He's also taller than everyone as far I'm a-where but if your oc or self-insert is taller than him then Oh well

He'll come up with the weirdest fucking Pet names/Nicknames for you Cuz he thinks it's funny

And it is

And nothing that'll embarrass him of course

But don't worry too much cuz he'll ask before calling you whatever weird name he comes up with for today to see if you'll if be comfortable with it

He usually looks though Gangles weird Secret fanfics about ragatha x Pomni for the names

And if you have a sleepover in his room?

Once again..

P R A Y

I don't know what you want me to tell you!

He'll only stop teasing you Once you've fallen asleep

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Alrighty I hope You Guys liked It! Also it's like midnight as I'm typing So this may Suck :p Also sorry for this being so short and Thanks For Over 100 likes On the last one I made! I love All of you So much!

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 21

Hello! We're back with more Royal Pain. For the person(s) that thought the kiss meant the nearing of the end of the story: NOPE! We still have a bit to get through plot wise. Plus I don't usually go through past them getting together, and wanted to explore that a little before the end.

Also, where have my commenters gone? I used to get 10 or so comments a post and the last part of "Well Met By Moonlight" only had one. My usual commenters just didn't. If I have suggested in anyway that I don't like comments or don't appreciate them, know that I really, really do! And I miss it when people who used comment don't anymore. I'm not going to name names because this isn't a callout post, just a concern, I guess.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Today we have a replay reaction to the kiss by the Royal Pain crew, Wayne being wise (and mention of a ring that has always been a thing in the story, I just forgot to put it in before this oops!) and Chrissy getting some advice.

***

To say that Steve was practically squealing from joy when he got to his car would be an understatement. He put his bluetooth earpiece in his right ear and immediately called Robin.

“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as she picked up.

“Eddie kissed me!” he giggled excitedly.

“No fucking way!” she gasped.

“Not yet anyway,” he said slyly, pulling into traffic.

“Steven Joseph Harrington!” Robin squeaked. “You don’t get to make dirty puns like that unless I’m in hitting distance.”

Steve laughed. “Joseph isn’t my middle name.”

He could hear her snap her fingers. “I’ll guess it eventually.”

“It’s been nearly a decade and you still haven’t guessed it,” he reminded her. “I can make it harder though...”

“Don’t you dare!” she hissed. There was silence for a moment. “You can’t make it harder, can you?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I can actually, but you told me not to.”

He could feel her narrow her eyes from across town as she weighed her options.

“Go ahead,” she said haughtily. “I don’t think you can.”

Steve grinned. “I have two middle names and you’ve never guessed either one.”

“You do not!” Robin hissed. “There is no way!”

“My parents were super traditional,” he told her. “My middle names come from each of my grandfathers.”

“Oh my god,” she said, “that makes so much sense.”

Steve licked his lips and waited. Five, four, three, two–

“Don’t you change the subject, Steven!” Robin came back. “Eddie kissed you.”

“He did indeed,” Steve said, “and I will tell you all about it when I get back to the shop. I’m like three minutes away.”

“I want to know everything!”

“I promise.”

*

Steve got to the shop and everyone was standing around the front counter, chins propped up on their hands, blinking at him expectantly.

He shook his head. “Menaces, the lot of you.”

Erica batted her eyelashes. “Yeah, but you like menaces.”

Steve tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, yeah. But first I have to tell about my lunch with Wayne.”

Erica and Chrissy groaned, pushing off the counter and rolling their eyes. Robin and Argyle stayed in position though.

“Trust me,” Steve said holding his hands up, “it’s relevant to the story.”

“This better be good, Harrington,” Chrissy snarked.

“Oh it will be,” he said with a smile, “I promise.”

He started telling them everything. Wayne’s approval, the confrontation with Quinn, Eddie coming to the rescue, the kiss.

“Lunch was definitely relevant, dude,” Argyle said. “Getting parental approval is super important in a relationship. Especially if they’re close.”

Steve nodded. “So does the story live up the hype?” he asked the girls.

Robin rolled her eyes. “I suppose.”

Chrissy giggled. “It was so cute, Stevie. I’m happy for you!”

Steve waited for Erica, who sat there tapping her lips for a moment. She cocked her head. “Ehhh...it was all right.”

Everyone protested, talking over each other.

She burst out laughing. “God, you guys so easy. Of course it was awesome. Super sweet, too.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something when the bell over the door sounded, announcing the arrival of his next client.

He turned to greet them as everyone but Robin scattered. As much as he would love to gossip about his newly minted love life, he had clients that wanted tattoos.

*

Eddie kept licking his lips the whole way to his apartment.

“What made you change your mind?” Wayne asked. “About dating Steve? Him saying ‘I love you’?”

Eddie bit his lip and shook his head. “I had made the decision before that. It was just with Seth stalking me, I didn’t want to get Steve hurt if Seth thought we were together.”

Wayne nodded. “If Seth would threaten Steve over being your friend and tattoo artist, I shudder to think what he would have done if your relationship was more serious.”

“In fact I was going to tell him before Seth threatened him,” Eddie said with a sigh. “We had plans to have dinner at his place and I was going to tell him then.”

“But then Seth showed up?” Wayne asked.

Eddie nodded. “And then that night, I was going to at least let him know that after the whole thing with Seth got resolved, I was going to kiss the hell out him, but that didn’t work out either.”

Wayne tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“That was the night he ran into an ex,” Eddie explained. “The ex. The one that broke his heart. Found out a whole bunch of other shit that night, too. I spent most of the night trying to console him.”

“So the stars finally aligned today, then?” Wayne asked.

“About god damned time, too,” Eddie agreed fiercely.

Wayne hummed. “He’s good for ya, Ed. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a long time. Even when Seth was breathing down your neck, you were more solid. You had your friends, but with Steve standing beside you, you looked like you could handle whatever the world threw at you as long as you had him.”

Eddie blushed, annoyed that driving kept him from ducking his head or shoving hair in his mouth to cover the flush on his cheeks. “He makes me feel brave, because he’s been through shit too and he’s still standing. Still moving forward each day. I love that about him.”

“Good.”

They drove the rest of the trip in silence. When they got back to the apartment they chatted as Eddie helped Wayne pack for his journey back to Hawkins.

“I want to see you both come Labor Day,” Wayne growled. “No excuses, you hear?”

Eddie nodded. “Yes, sir.” He gave him a jaunty salute.

It looked absolutely ridiculous coming from a long haired metalhead and Wayne’s snort cinched it.

Eddie grinned but gave him a gentle shove. “Steve wasn’t lying when he said that was the plan, by the way. We had been talking about taking him down to meet you since the first week of us becoming friends.”

Wayne nodded sagely. “I understand that he’s not close with his parents.”

“It was big ole mess,” Eddie said softly. “His parents are very recently divorced, like it was finalized last month, recent.”

Wayne hummed. “I remember you saying something about that,” he said. “At least you had an uncle who cared when your parents decided to be shit, it doesn’t seem like Steve had that option.”

“He was close to his grandpa though,” Eddie murmured. “On his mom’s side. He was really broken up when the man died.”

Wayne zipped up his suitcase. “How old was Steve?”

Eddie shrugged. “Young. Eight or nine. His grandfather got cancer before his mom met his dad. His grandpa had struggled with the disease before it finally took him. Steve said that it had ravaged so much of his body that his death certificate was like a laundry list of possible causes of death. Heart failure, kidney failure, cancer...you name it, it was probably on the damn thing.”

“That ring he wears all the time,” Wayne asked, “that his grandfather’s?”

Eddie nodded. “His dad tried to take it for years, saying it inappropriate to leave to a little boy.”

“Only he wasn’t going to stay a little boy forever,” Wayne said. “I guessing that since he still has it, his mom interfered?”

“Maureen Harrington wasn’t going to be winning any best mom awards at any point in Steve’s life,” Eddie scoffed, “but she did do some shit and hiding that ring was one of them.”

“I’m glad he had someone looking out for him,” Wayne said. “I’m sorry it wasn’t all the time. But he at least had something some of the time.”

“He’s not jealous of me or Robin,” Eddie said, “Or anyone of his friends that have a good home life. He’s happy with his found family. He loves them as though they are blood.”

Wayne smiled. “I’m happy for you, Ed. You’ve got something real special with Steve.”

Eddie blushed. “I love him.”

“I think the whole world knows it’s mutual at this point,” Wayne said with a small shake of his head.

Eddie just grinned.

*

Steve grinned as Chrissy wandered out of her room for the third time today. The first time was that she forgot her purse in her car. The second time it was because she had a question for Robin (completely made up and not something that was essential at all to her job). The third time it was because she wanted to ask Robin if she wanted anything from the deli on the corner for lunch.

Could you tell that Vickie was being trained by Robin today?

Vickie put her hand on Robin’s arm to get her to slow down in her nervous and very rapid fire explanation of the phone system and Steve thought Chrissy was going to explode.

Chrissy was wearing a pink blouse with spaghetti straps and white lacy cardigan over the tightest jeans Steve had ever seen and he’s been to a lot of Corroded Coffin shows. Her hair was up in an artfully messy ponytail and her makeup was tasteful and very pink.

Steve was just grateful she hadn’t paired the outfit with anything high heeled and instead chose white ballet flats. He was always worried someone was going to sprain their ankles in high heels walking on their hardwood floors.

He winced as Chrissy’s poor attempt at flirting fell flat.

“Oh,” Robin said, “Steve already ordered him and me Chinese, sorry.”

“I’d love something though,” Vickie said brightly. “Do they have a turkey club?”

Chrissy sputtered for a moment before she nodded meekly. “Yeah.”

“Great!” Vickie continued. “Just let me know how much and I’ll wire you the funds.”

Chrissy nodded again and with a squeak, dashed back into her room. Steve watched as Vickie’s smile turned knowing.

He shook his head and went to go talk to his apprentice.

“Someone’s got a crush,” he said, leaning against the door frame, with his arms folded.

Chrissy threw her arms in the air. “At least you noticed. I don’t think she has.”

Steve chuckled and made his way over to her, swinging the door shut behind him.

“I love her,” he said sitting down on her client lounger, “but she absolutely loses her head when a pretty girl is around. Gay, straight, bi. Doesn’t matter she becomes an absolute mess.”

“I’ve noticed,” Chrissy said bitterly. She thought about Vickie and Mandy and how Robin was just goo around them.

He hummed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “Here’s the thing though, you are one hundred percent ahead of the game compared to the other two girls.”

Chrissy scoffed. “What makes you think that?”

Steve grinned. “Mandy has a boyfriend, soon to be fiance and Vickie could be bisexual. But she could also be straight. Robin knows you’re a lesbian. You have the advantage of her knowing where she stands with you.”

Chrissy blinked. “Oh.”

“You want to get the girl?” Steve asked. She nodded. “Then you’ve got to step up your game. Time to woo her and not just flirt with her.”

Chrissy chewed on her lip. “But how do I do that?”

Steve shook his head. “Well for starters, paying attention. Robin and I always get Chinese on Fridays.”

She blinked for a moment, pulled out her phone and then the light bulb went off above her head. “Oops.”

“Yeah...”

She took a deep breath. “Do you think I have a chance?”

“She thinks the cheerleading thing is scary hot, so...”

Chrissy grinned. “It’s short skirt, isn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “And the cute little socks.”

Chrissy laughed. “Can’t forget those.”

He turned to walk away, but she stopped him. “Thanks for this, Steve. I know you didn’t have to.”

Steve just smiled softly and then walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Thoughts on how to get the girl of her dreams.

***

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

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[xiaq]

Steddie Time Travel Fix-it Pt. 10

Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9

Eddie has no idea what showering-with-your-bro-because-he’s-injured-and-needs-help-washing-his-hair protocol is but he’s pretty sure stripping completely naked and facing each other isn’t it.

Yet here they are.

Because Steve had insisted that Eddie smelled like smoke and if they were going to be bunking together (apparently they were going to be bunking together??) Eddie needed to get clean too.

He tries to tell himself it’s just like the locker room at school but nothing even remotely like this has ever happened to him in the locker room at school. 

“So,” he says, thoroughly mortified and trying very hard to keep his attention on Steve’s face. “Hair?”

“Hair,” Steve agrees. He’s being downright cavalier about the nudity situation. Then again, he’s Steve Harrington. And even though he looks seventeen, apparently he’s, what—20? 21? He’s probably seen loads of people naked. He’s definitely not a virgin. Eddie wonders if the version of Eddie that Steve knew in the future was still a virgin. Maybe they talked about it. Shared stories, like friends do. Or maybe… Eddie thinks about the way that Steve looks at him. The way he’d clung to him. The way he’d said, so casually, that he liked both. So. Maybe. Maybe they’d––

“You know,” Steve says, thankfully not party to the small internal breakdown Eddie’s having, “it’s weird, seeing you without all the tattoos. You had a lot more, before. Or after, I guess.” He’s eyeing Eddie’s arms contemplatively, and then his eyes slip down Eddie’s chest, to his belly. Lower.

Eddie would make a quip about taking a picture because it’d last longer, but he doesn’t actually get the feeling that Steve is checking him out. More like just…checking. Reassuring himself.

“Hair,” Eddie reiterates. “Turn around. You have a preference for shampoo?”

“Whichever one smells best.”

He takes a step forward, wincing empathetically as the spray hits Steve’s wounds and he makes a soft, aborted noise of pain. 

This is not sexy. He reminds himself. This is caretaking. He psychs himself up. He puts his fingers in Steve’s hair.

It’s such a mess that it actually takes some time to work the shampoo in and get the tangles out. It’s good, to have something to focus on. Something that isn’t the fact that Steve Fucking Harrington is naked in front of him, suds sliding down his neck and back and ass which is literal inches away from Eddie’s dick. Something Eddie’s dick is quickly starting to realize. Steve leans back into him as Eddie helps him rinse his hair, as Eddie proffers the conditioner options to Steve for a smell-test.

It gets harder —pun absolutely intended—for him to focus on Steve’s hair and not the rest of him, once the water in the shower is running clean and Steve is making quiet appreciative sounds while Eddie massages conditioner into his scalp. He’s never been this thorough with his own hair before but Steve doesn’t need to know that.

He does need to distract himself, though, if he doesn’t want things to get weird quickly. Unless—no. Now is definitely not the time.

“Hey,” Eddie says, “what’s your middle name?”

Steve glances over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

He exhales the answer like he knows exactly what Eddie is going to do with it: “Clive.”

“Clive?” Eddie repeats, delighted. “Steven Clive Harrington? Oh my god.”

“Big words coming from a man named Edmund Byron Munson,” Steve mutters.

Eddie freezes. “What the fuck? No one knows my full name. No one. Well, except Wayne. Did Wayne tell you?”

Its Steve’s turn to still.

“Oh,” Eddie realizes. “Did I tell you? Back in your, or, our, uh…back in the other timeline?”

“No,” Steve says, and it looks like the word hurts him. 

“Okay,” Eddie stretches out the word, hoping Steve will elucidate. 

He does not.

“So how did you know?” he prompts.

Steve still doesn’t say anything. He’s half-turned, now, looking at Eddie in a way that Eddie is only just starting to understand—something composed of grief and horror and maybe a little madness.

“Steve, come on,” Eddie prompts.

“Your obituary,” Steve says finally, unblinking. “It was in your obituary.”

Right.

Because he’d died.

Steve had watched him die.

Fuck.

Distraction absolutely accomplished. This is now the least sexy shower he’s ever taken.

“Well, shit,” he says. “Is it weird if I ask what my funeral was like?”

Steve coughs on a morbid little laugh. “We’re nowhere near my threshold for ‘weird.’” he sighs. “It was small. Just the band, a couple of us, and Wayne—most of the kids’ parents wouldn’t even let them go because of the protest, actually. Henderson was the only one.”

“Protest?”

“Oh, right,” Steve clarifies. “You were wanted for multiple murders at that point. People picketed the church. ”

“I killed people?”

“No, of course not. But Vecna— ”he still says the name cautiously, “he killed a lot of people and you were the primary suspect for a while. We cleared your name eventually but not until after the funeral.”

“Oh. Damn.”

The air is thick with steam and things Eddie wants to say, to ask. But he’s not sure how to voice them; for once, words are failing him.

He uses one hand to protect Steve’s eyes and the other to tip his head back under the spray again, fingers helping to rinse out the last of the conditioner.

He reaches automatically for the bar of soap and the washcloth next, and starts scrubbing the grime off Steve’s back, lifting first one arm, then the other, moving him with a degree of proprietary confidence that surprises even Eddie. 

When he gets to the small of Steve’s back, he lingers, paying more attention than is warranted to the bruise that wraps from his spine nearly to his belly button. He tries to ignore the fact that his opposite hand, holding Steve in place, is cupped around Steve’s hip and his fingers are pressed, slick with soap, into one of the V lines where Steve’s obliques meet his transversus abdominal muscles.

Eddie had paid attention, that day in anatomy class.

“Well,” Steve says with sudden urgency, moving the scant few inches he can to leave Eddie’s grip. “I think you’ve got everything. Thanks for that. So I’ll,” he jerks a thumb toward the shower curtain, angling his body carefully away from Eddie. “But you should stay. Wash your hair and uh, whatever else. I’ll have Robin help me get dressed. She’s terrible with blood, though, so I’ll still have you help with my hand and my face in a minute. Or I can ask Nance, if you’d rather—”

“No,” Eddie says. It comes out both confused and way too forceful. “I mean, no, that’s fine. I can help you.”

“Good, cool, well I’ll leave you to it; you said you have clothes in my car, right?”

“Right,” Eddie agrees, baffled. 

“I’ll grab it and meet you in the guest bedroom, then,” Steve says, still facing away from him, shoulders oddly hunched. He tries to step over the lip of the tub and reach for the towel on the bar at the same time and trips, tipping sideways into the wall as he scrambles to keep himself from face-planting.

“Whoa,” Eddie says, “Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah-hah,” Steve laughs badly. “Totally, yeah,” he wraps the towel around his waist, bare feet on wet tile. “I’m just,” he points for the door and then opens it without even attempting to dry himself off. “Clothes,” he says, and then he’s gone, the door clicking shut like an omen.

Eddie pulls the shower curtain back into place, slowly.

He picks up the shampoo bottle and tries to figure out what the hell just happened.

Maybe…no. 

Surely not. 

Unless?

Eddie washes his hair and tells himself not to be ridiculous.

***

When Eddie leaves the bathroom in a billow of steam, towel around his waist and hair dripping down his back, the house is quiet. He thinks he can hear the kids voices in the kitchen, but they’re muted, tired. He slips inside the guest bedroom door, expecting to find Steve and Robin, but Steve is alone.

“Hey man,” he says to Steve’s back, “were you able to find something that fit, or—”

Eddie stops. Steve is sitting on the bed with the duffel bag unzipped next to him. He’s wearing one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of his boxers which Eddie would definitely like to spend some time thinking about except for a much more pressing issue: Steve is holding Eddie’s battle jacket in his lap. And he’s crying.

What the fuck.

Steve sniffs hard, standing, head ducked. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I was just––“

The vest is still in his hands. It looks like he’s struggling to let go of it.

“Sorry,” he repeats. He sets it, gently, so gently, on the bedspread, and runs his good hand, oddly reverent, down the right lapel. 

“I promise I’m not as insane as I seem,” he says, wry and wane and terrible. “You’re just missing a lot of context.”

Eddie considers. “I take it I was wearing that when I died?”

“No,” Steve says. His head is still ducked. “I was.”

Eddie rocks back on his heels. “…I gave you my battle jacket.” It’s a question, but it doesn’t sound like one. He can’t seem to manage the right inflection in the face of the fact that he gave his battle jacket to someone. It’s unthinkable. He wouldn’t even let one of his bandmates wear it. The only reason he’d willingly part with it would be––

“Yeah.” Steve says.

His arms are crossed and the black Metallica shirt he’s wearing is stretched thin around his chest. His hair is a half-drying mess and still somehow looks purposefully artful. His lips are bitten and red. And Eddie wonders—finally actually lets the thought form for the first time—he wonders if there’s something there. If somehow, some way, the older version of himself actually managed to romance Steve fucking Harrington. Because that feels pretty damn laughable but it’s also the only thing that makes sense. It’s the only thing that explains this: Steve’s fisted hands tucked in his armpits, his clenched jaw, the tear tracks down his face. The vest.

He wants to ask.

He doesn’t.

“Did I ever find anything to put on the back of it?” He says instead.

Steve shoves his wrist under his running nose and huffs something that might be a laugh but might be a sob. “Dio. You cut the back out of a Dio tour shirt and sewed it on like a giant patch.”

“Nice. I wonder where I got the shirt,” he says absently.

He’s been wearing the vest already. But nothing he’d found so far felt right for finishing the back piece. Dio would do nicely.

“I don’t know. But you had it by the start of the semester, so. Maybe over the summer?”

“Huh.”

“But also,” Steve says, careful and low, “you don’t have to do what you did before. That’s kind of the point of all this. That you can do things differently. Better.”

“Well,” Eddie says just as carefully. “Maybe now that you’ve finished saving the world you could join me on a thrifting trip to Indy. Help me find a good backpiece. Dio or otherwise.”

Steve finally looks up, meeting his eyes. “I’d like that,” he says.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Pt. 11

***

Tag list:

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[definatelymrhyde]

Worse than I had thought lore dump because I’ve been holding it in way too long

THE CHARACTERS

JEKYLL

Jekyll is meant to be a little crazy, or at least very eccentric. Think like he’s TGS Jekyll, but slightly crazier and much less good at masking his true emotions. He was disgusted at Edward when he first created him, and as much as he hates to admit it, he and Edward are verrrrrry similar. I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned it yet, but Edwards' mannerisms and ways of movement and facial expressions are just exaggerated versions of all of Jekylls. Why, they’re literally the same person, just not. Confused? Yeah, me too. He tries to be polite with Edward and stuff but he just isn’t very good at it. This backfires later on.

EDWARD

Edward is weirdly chill at the start of the fic, and also a little socially awkward. But this is kind of just because at the point we’re at right now, he’s been an existing being for what, like eight to fourteen days or something?? He’s Jekyll but intensified, and if we’re going with the theme of masking, he just.. doesn’t mask anything about himself. He also actively spoils books for people which is kind of funny. Don’t get me wrong, he isn’t JUST an eccentric bad boy or whatever. He’s a terrible person. He’s all of Jekylls (or what Jekyll himself considers to be) bad traits personified. Edward is openly mean, VERY spiteful and just generally a not nice person to be around. He doesn’t like people lying to him, he knows by Chapter gen that Jekyll doesn’t like him and trust me, it’s MUCH more than what you see at the end of that last chapter (as of posting this at least). He gets MUCH worse, and the whole situation with him and Jekyll is much WORSE THAN YOU THOUGHT. (BAD-UM SSSSS PUN INTENDED. HA.)

UTTERSON

He’s concerned for his friend, Jekyll. And you know what? He’s probably the least insane and most reasonable one here. I would trust him with my life honestly. He’s responsible, kind, and generally a good person if a little bit nosy when it comes to other peoples situations. But he has good reasons. JEKYLL TRIED TO FRAME IT LIKE UTTERSON BETRAYED HIM BY OPENING THE LETTER. UTTERSON DID NOT DONT LET JEKYLL GET TO YOU UTTERSON IS A WONDERFUL PERSON.

THE MURDERER

You know, I’ve never actually done much but describe the way these guys look. But they DO have cannon designs and some pretty intense lore I’m not revealing yet because spoilers. We don’t like spoilers here.

Yes that was plural. The plural part was intentional. You’ll see.

THE MORALS

All actions have consequences: This isn’t just Jekyll creating oh super evil Edward, it’s his constant mistreatment of his already ‘evil’ or ‘distasteful’ alter ego. Jekylls first thought upon seeing Edward was essentially ‘oh fuck oh god what have I done what have I created what have I unleashed upon this world.’ Followed by pure disgust and shame about what he’s created, or rather what he’s done to himself. Of course, Edwards reaction upon digging through their memories (which is never shown, but mentioned in I THINK chapter ten?) is to be spiteful and live up to what Jekyll thinks he is.

Yes, everything CAN get worse: It’s in the name. Worse than I had thought. TGS Jekyll (Henry), upon looking at a situation almost identical to his from an outside perspective realizes that maybe his situation is worse than he plays it off to be. It’s a BAD situation for both Henry AND Hyde.

Sometimes, being TOO similar can make some people hate one another: Hyde and Edward do not like eachother. They’re too similar but also too different at the same time and it’s jarring to both of them.

And here’s the big one, Masking: Essentially Jekyll masks and put on a facade (haha get it? GET IT??) of being a nice perfect person, and isn’t very good at it and Edward goes “fuck it we ball.”

THE UNIVERSE

This is a biggie to explain. So essentially, yes, it’s a musical, but it’s not THE musical. The songs do not appear in the same order as they do in the original show, instead they appear in whatever context I say fits. The music part works as follows: The music and underscoring (music that plays during a scene or in interludes with dialogue) is an integral part of the universe. Ingrained in everyone’s minds, the motifs they need to know, what means danger, what means it’s time to sing, they know it all. And the singing? It’s just a thing that happens there. It’s a way to push along stories and life and stuff.

The story basis of the universe itself is different. It’s like a mix of the original book, the musical and TGS in a way. I’m not even 100% sure how to explain it myself. But I CAN provide some fun facts about it!!

-Jekyll does not date and is not engaged to Lisa/Emma Carew, and he’s never romantically involved with Lucy either. Because I didn’t want to write romance.

-I’m not sure if I’ll ever mention it, but it IS a cannon fact that Lisa/Emma and Lucy are girlfriends because I’m the creator of the Musical Mixup universe and I do what I want i guess

-Utterson and Jekyll have been friends since probably just before, or since the start of university! They’re very close, and there was even a deleted Edward dialogue saying “I mean, we get along better than them, still not as good as you and Utterson, though.” That was deleted because my editor, Ash, mentioned that it sounded like a dirty joke and I hadn’t intended for it to sound like that.

Aaaand that’s about as much as I can say without there being spoilers for any stuff in chapters I haven't posted yet. If that made zero sense then I apologize, feel free to ask me questions and stuff! I don’t bite, I promise!!

The end!! (For now, probably at least)

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

(fascinated by the choices made between books and show so I gotta study them like bugs under a microscope. Spoilers for the whole show and the books)

Season 1 episode 6 [Like Angels Put In Hell By God] - part 1/2

- [Louis] "Excruciating pain was the proof I was still alive." - that's one way of confirming proof of life.

- [Daniel] "'He could fly?' [Louis] 'Yes.' [Daniel] 'Like Superman?' [Louis] 'Not like Superman. Superman is a fictional character.' [Daniel] 'But in the air, with a 'fuck you to Newtonian physics' flying?' [Louis] 'He said it was more like floating, arising at will, propelling in a direction by the decision. He called it the cloud gift.'"

Love how Louis is adamant in pointing the difference between Lestat and Superman: one's fictional, the other is very much real. No fiction here, no sir-e. And hello canon callback, the Cloud Gift.

- [Daniel]"That's the voice of Doctor Fareed Bhansali." - EXCUSE ME. WHAT. WHO. HOW. WHAT. Filed under things that mean nothing to the non-book readers but will make the book readers lose their minds.

- [Louis] "Are you still dreaming about our first meeting, Daniel?" - I'm gonna go ahead and say, yeah, from what we know of that meeting now, that's definitely the stuff of dreams. Bad dreams, that is.

- [Daniel] "Can you fly, Louis?" - helloooo PTSD.

- [Louis] "I suppose he thought if he exposed all his power to me, I would never feel his equal and the relationship would suffer." -… Correct me if I'm wrong but isn't that exactly what it came to be? Also, in book canon, Lestat doesn't like using the Cloud Gift. It's very tied in with Akasha and the abuse he goes through at her hands, and he resents that loss of control and bigger divide between him and humanity.

[Daniel] "'He only beat me the one time, Officer. It's not his fault.' Classic Stockholm, eh, Doc?" - still tripping over the fact that THAT'S Doctor Fareed, oh shit, 1, he's hot, 2, THAT'S FAREED BHANSALI. Oh, and also, Daniel is right and he should say it. But also he doesn't have all the facts, which are 1, we love Lestat, 2, one murder attempt kinda makes up for it, they're even now, and 3, "memory is a beast".

- [Louis] "Are we the sum of our worst moments? Can we be forgiven if we do not forgive others ourselves?" - THIS. I don't have more comments, just this, so much.

- Oof. Welcome to physical therapy. As a vampire, that must be excruciating.

- [Louis] "'If you ever wanna talk about what happened to you while you were gone, you know you can, right?' [Claudia] 'Uh-huh.' [Louis] 'Or you could just tell me his name, write it on a scrap of paper.' [Claudia] 'You gonna be my knight in vengeful black?' [Louis] 'I am the knight.'" >> 80 years later, "I own the night", we love character development when the seeds are planted from the beginning. And puns, we love puns too.

- [Lestat] "The Book of Hours, extremely rare, 15th century. Silver and gold in the vellum, palettes of blue and old rose." - I want that book so bad… Ahem. I mean, nope, forgiveness will not be bought by gifts, no matter how impressive or expensive.

- [Lestat] "Perhaps we should let him decide if he wants to see me or not." - I think the coffin flying out of the window is a very clear answer.

- You know what, I'm ready to incorporate in my belief system that Emily Dickinson is a vampire. After all, s2 already said Samuel Beckett is. Let's add the Brönte sisters to the list too. Not the Austens tho, I don't think so.

- I love how mature Claudia looks in that hairdo.

- [Lestat] "I'm nothing without both of you." - sweetie, you need to grow an independent self.

- [Louis] "For six years in all, these raw and desperate mea culpas came like the tide. And for six years, they were greeted with silence or fire. We burned more gifts than bodies in that decade, but they would not stop coming. And Lestat's relentless determination began to crack my considerable armor. Perhaps it was the modesty of the gesture. But in the spring of 1937, one broke through."

If they were real people, I'd say" girl, no, run, stop". But the beauty of fictional characters is that the more messed up, the more compelling, and I am on the edge of my seat getting ready for Lestat to come crawling back and for Louis to fall even harder.

- Aaaaaaaaaah, Lestat singing!!!! Rockstar Lestat wheeeeeeeeeeeeeen.

- [Louis] "The audacity of it all was matched only by its sincerity" - that's the definition of Lestat, that here.

- [Louis] "Six years of begging, you think a song's gonna get a rise out of me?" -… Babe, you just swam the Mississipi and broke down a door, I'd say he managed it.

Also, hello again, Sam Reid's training routine. Man, that chest.

[Louis] "Write me a song and put your lover's voice in it?" - I don't know if I wanna applaud Lestat's boldness or rip his heart out for his casual cruelty.

Sorry Antoinette, nobody ever holds a candle to Louis in Lestat's eyes…

- [Daniel] "'You took Lestat back.' [Louis] 'The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent.' [Daniel] 'Lover, murderer, maker. You took him back.' [Louis] 'It's a bond than can never be fully severed. A bond like that makes you believe there's only the two of you on the planet.'"

Daniel Molloy season 1: giiiirl he's abusive and violent and a cheating liar, why would you take him back?

Daniel Molloy season 2: never mind, better the guy who loves you and would have died to save you even though he's the one that broke you than the psycho besides you who's been lying for 80 years and is the reason your daughter's dead, I am now the number one Loustat defender.

Mate, same.

- I am absolutely mesmerised by Louis's eyes in this episode. Oh, boy, how is he so, so beautiful.

- "His name was Magnus. He took me from my room in Paris, as I kicked and screamed. He kept me for a week, locked in a room full of corpses - some freshly killed, some bloated and black. But they all looked like me - my coloring, my physique. My own eyes staring back at me from rotting faces. He fed on me every night. And then he put me back in the tower with the look-alike corpses. I thought for sure I'd be one of them, but instead he turned me into this. No grand history of vampiric origins or physiology, no rules, no counsel. Just a sweeping hand to a pile of money and the sight of him throwing himself into a fire. And then I was alone. I thought… 'I can't drink hot blood. I can't feed on others.' I cried. I called to God. I didn't want this. But I have a capacity for enduring. It's why I don't particularly like being abandoned."

Aah, this is such a fascinating moment. Lestat is trying so hard to remain impassive and neutral, but his voice wavers all through the story, and his gaze is distant and clouded when he recounts the worst parts, his fear, his loneliness. And then Louis looking at him with so much compassion and so much pain, fully empathising, and Claudia, even though she also feels some modicum of pity, immediately looking to Louis and seeing that he's fully back to loving Lestat, and for his sake, for his sake only, she agrees to Lestat coming back… Beautiful.

And then when you think about Lestat's origins as a vampire (and we haven't even touched on his human history because damn that part too is hard), enduring is really his main trait. He's a survivor. In every meaning of the word. Survivor of rape, because that's what his turning is, survivor of several types of abuse going back all the way to his childhood, survivor of his own demons,… As Louis said, are we the sum of our worst moments? In Lestat's case, I feel like the answer is clearly "no. We are the sum of how much we're trying. We mess up at times, we fail, we hurt each other - but we keep trying our best and we keep trying to stay true to ourselves and we make amends and we recognise our faults".

A pause, here. Breathe. And then onto part 2.

episode 1 | episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | episode 5 | part 2 | episode 7

[lizard-dumbass]

Alright so the TOH brainrot has come back in full force after the finale came out so now i too am making one of them lists of things that i liked/stuck out to me. Also sorry if this ends up just being a bunch of incoherent nonsense

HOLY SHIT TITAN!LUZ. the design is so cool what more can i say. Furthermore,

HOLY FUCK LUZ DIED????? i was so not expecting that and good lord was it heartbreaking. Eda and King's reaction to Luz's death were also heartbreaking, and so was the Collector finally realizing what death really is. And oh my god puppet!Camila crying as the balls of light pass by her, showing us that she has had the realization that her daughter died. After the grief and trauma of losing Manny, Camila and Luz had a heart to heart which made their bond stronger than ever, only for Camila to lose Luz aswell.

LUZ SAID THE THING! NOW EAT THIS SUCKAAAAAA!!!!!

THE BOILING ISLES IS BIGENDER BABY! i honestly love the titan so much now. His bad girl coven t-shirt and glyph pants and dad-bod are absolutely everything. (Also what's with the little hooty worm sticking out of her eye socket??)

The goddamn bread pun 😭 that warms my heart so much

The raeda in this episode was IMMACULATE. I was really hoping for a kiss but i'm still happy with what WAD gave us. The loving stares, Raine's absolute joy when Eda and Titan!Luz came to their rescue in the throne room, the hugs and nuzzles, the cuddling in their new nest, etc. They seem so relaxed and happy at the end. The world has been saved and now they can finally live their lives together and rekindle their relationship. Oh and how could i forget the EARRING SWAP!! they're wearing eachother's earrings!!! I've seen quite a few ppl interpreting the exchanging of earrings/jewelry as a marriage custom in the demon realm, implying that Eda and Raine are married in the timeskip. I never cared much for the idea of raeda getting married but you know what? I like this headcanon.

Raine whistling raine's rhapsody/eda's reqiuem.

Hunter is a palisman carver! And he has a new palisman! Apparently the little blue jay's name is Waffles and that's just adorable.

Raine also has a palisman now and it's a little fox! I wonder what their name is though.

The entire hexsquad has matching Flapjack tattoos! Also Flapjack's grave, that gave me so many feels. But im so happy to see how Hunter has healed!

Harpy Lilith!

Eda is the principal of a school now?

Eda's hook arm! Also just everyone's new outfits/appearances in general. I love Raine's fully white hair and their scars and their outfit just oozes gender. I love Luz's outfit and punk eyeliner. I love Amity's hairstyle. I love how Lilith kept her short ginger hairstyle. I love Gus's new hair and his little beard. I love Willow's shorter hair and sporty outfit. Mattholomule has a real mustache now!

Fuck yeah they figured out how to remove sigils so now the BI residents can do magic like the Titan really intended!

Aladarius canon??

Everyone reuniting with their dads. Amity running to Alador whilst Odalia just stands at the side with an annoyed face. Fucking priceless. Willow's dads kissed on screen! Hunter thinking no one would be there for him only for Darius and Eberwolf to show up and accept him into their family. my heart 😭❤️

Eda and Camila finally got to meet!

Luz reuniting with King and Eda made me sob so unbelievably hard.

Luz and Vee graduated together!

Luz goes to college in the demon realm!

I thought she was giving all her Azura stuff away at first but i think she's actually bringing it all with her to college.

I love everything about Luz's quinceañera (or should i say KING-ceañera)

I love the very last part where every character we've come to know and love over these 3 wonderful years (except Odalia lmfao) say "Byeee!" to the audience. What a perfect way to end this series.

I think that's it lol i have so many thoughts

[starsyearn]

favorite (hpdm) fics of 2024 'til may.

hi hey hello! this year was the year i truly plunged into drarry and took a deep dive and i love that for me. came on here to show my appreciation for some of the best fics that i’ve read so far this year. let the praise commence for these fics that have caused me immense brainrot!!!

Teeter by @shiftylinguini (E, 10k)

Draco wants to come, Harry has other ideas, and they both might be doing this whole 'casually sleeping together' thing a bit wrong. Excerpt: If he’d been thinking straight, Draco would have guessed that Harry didn’t do things by halves, and that hopping into bed with him would be as exhilarating and impossible to control as anything Draco’d ever felt about the stupid tosser ― but even Draco could admit that keeping a level-head around Harry wasn’t exactly his strong point.

my thoughts: spice with a side of emotional mess, i stan. (reread it like thrice within a week of finishing it the first time because it was so beautiful somehow even though it was pure filth.)

By Any Other Name by @dracognition (E, 8k)

Draco would like to say that when Potter barged into his office at nine-thirty in the morning, locked the door, and demanded, “Are you in love with me?”, he sneered back and said something quite clever and cutting along the lines of please, Potter, I know we’re not trying to kill each other anymore but I have the good sense and, more importantly, standards not to throw myself at you or maybe at least I see your ego hasn’t gotten any more tolerable since school. What he said in reality, though, was, “What? I—what?” He tried again. “Have you gone completely mental?”

A botched love potion makes it so that everyone in Harry's vicinity is madly in love with him—everyone except Draco, that is.

my thoughts: i’m in such a haze ohmygod this was delicious and so fucking good i physically cannot — *clenches fist* these two have my whole and entire heart. AND THE WRITING I AM UNWELL. it’s so pretty!! anyways. read if you want pining draco & oblivious harry dialed up to immense levels of cuteness.

break the bad luck in my life by seaworn (E, 12k)

“Let’s have dinner." “I - what?” “I know a decent Muggle pub that serves adequate food, and it’s very private," Potter said. “‘Decent’. ‘Adequate’. You really know how to sell it, don’t you?” “Phenomenal company,” he offered. ** Draco and Harry are both brooding on Christmas Eve.

my thoughts: oh. my. god. smut with a side of life-altering decisions + christmas vibes = me giggling & kicking my legs up. so lovely. i love powerful harry and snarky draco and how they come together (no pun intended).

No Harm by @tessacrowley (E, 47k)

After a long, bloody war, Draco Malfoy just wants to do something good with his life for a change, and resolves to become a healer. But magical society refuses to make it easy for him, and an increasingly dramatic series of events—all of them instigated by Harry Potter—get him kicked out of med school, force him to live in exile, and threaten to destroy the new life he’s trying so desperately to build. But Harry isn’t instigating anything—at least not on purpose. He’s just trying to work up the nerve to ask him out. His efforts don’t appear to be going great.

my thoughts: this was such a quiet love story that touched my heart and i just. i’m melting. this really showed me how some of the deepest love can be rooted with so much history and pain but also deeply seated with a strong foundation of affection and mutual desire. harry and draco were perfect in this. auror harry/healer draco will forever have my heart now, and i personally feel it fits them so well (i will hear no arguments). their characterizations were so on-point in my opinion because of course it fits them. of course harry’s impatient and rushes into things headfirst but knows his morals and knows who he loves and wants to protect and cherish for the rest of his life (draco). of course draco’s snarky and vulnerable and sassy and penitent about everything that happened, because he was only just a kid. i love how they’re so idiots in love coded, once they get past the initial misunderstandings about how harry was trying to “ruin” draco’s life lol (which was sad in its own way). but then!!! when harry finally starts to “woo” draco, it was just so hilarious and beautiful and lovely. absolutely recommend.

AITA for being “obsessed” with my childhood nemesis? by RainstormRadish (M, 4k)

Alrakis • I [24M] attended a small boarding school in the UK. There was a boy in my year, a couple of months younger than me, and he became my nemesis after we developed an intense rivalry. My friend [25F] told me recently that our dynamic was "weird back then" and that "it’s even weirder" that I still think about him today. She argued that I talk about him all the time, but I believe the amount I talk about him is reasonable. AITA? prongymcprongface • i completely get what you mean. i had a nemesis (like a school one, separate to my other nemesis) and we had a dynamic super similar to what you are describing. having a nemesis is a very cool and normal thing dw about it. NTA In which Draco asks the internet if he's being reasonable. Only one commenter is sympathetic. They start talking.

my thoughts: this was just so funny and cute and surprisingly portrayed a reddit comment section so realistically (i was laughing so hard IT WAS HILARIOUS). again, what draco & harry share is a rivalry ok it’s definitely not a crush. not at all.

Darling, You’re Wiggling by @softlystarstruck, @lou-isfake (T, 5k)

Draco has a secret. Harry doesn’t have a secret, until he does. Then he goes to Claire’s.

my thoughts: in a nutshell: domestic drarry. they had me beaming so hard my cheeks hurt.

Pocket Full Of Starlight (Never Let It Fade Away) by @noeeon, @femmequixotic (E, 46k)

When Scorpius Malfoy and Jamie Potter meet at Quidditch camp, they take an instant dislike to each other. Then they discover their lives are more connected than they could possibly imagine.

my thoughts: scorpius & james parent trap-ping harry & draco? what’s not to like there. the family moments were everything, and this was just genuinely so feel-good even when the angst was angsting that i couldn’t help loving everything about it. anyways drarry are rather stupid here (affectionate) but thank fuck the kids are there to knock some sense into them. also jamie having harry’s recklessness while scorpius has draco’s shyness and coldness is just so lovely i cannot.

something in the static by cloudings (E, 92k)

When Draco Malfoy is sent numerous threats warning of what exactly will happen to him if he returns to Hogwarts, he is assigned a young, handsome Auror as his bodyguard. Harry hates him. He hates how close he stands to Malfoy, how highly he thinks of himself, how he insists on holding Malfoy’s shoulder every time they walk into a room. Really, Harry thinks. He’s the one who defeated the evilest of the evil. He could do a far better job of protecting him than a self-absorbed, shiny-haired prick like that. And you know what? He just might.

my thoughts: probably my favorite eighth year fic by far! the jealousy and pining was so good, holy shit. the tension was off the roof. genuinely so much fun.

Evitative by Vichan (T, 222k)

In the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is drawn to a room in Grimmauld Place. Like the Gryffindor he is, he enters the room without fear. The room is a library, and Harry is surprised to find that he’s eager to learn. Then he gets the bad news: he’s been accidentally expelled from Hogwarts, and he needs to be sorted again. Everyone is confident that he’ll go straight back to Gryffindor, but with what he's been learning, Harry’s not so sure.

my thoughts: this was amazing, addictive, and honestly fucking awesome. from the beginning i got so hooked and literally went “alriiiiight i think we have a winner on our hands folks” cause it really seemed like it would hit. and oh did it. i have no idea how i’m gonna hold out from reading Redivider (the sequel) since it’s a WIP (i think 76k words are done at the moment) and i generally avoid those because i cannot bear the waiting time (+ unfortunately the author doesn’t seem to have updated since may 2022) but like. i miss this world already and i love the way the world-building was done in this AU of Order of the Phoenix. the whole concept of dark arts introduced so many nuances to the original book and i loved this take on it. i also liked how despite characters having ingrained prejudices, they worked to meet in the middle and found common ground. and isn’t that what this fic was all about? insane and crazy plot twists, yes, but also character development in the most spectacular way. the romance is very light but i’m looking forward to seeing it develop more in the sequel!

Lily’s Boy by SomewheresSword (E, 746k)

Before his third year of Hogwarts has even begun, Harry faces three whole weeks of unsupervised time in Diagon Alley. In that time he takes a trip to Gringotts - and that changes everything. Burdened with the knowledge that Dumbledore has been blocking his family magic, and manipulating far more than he ever thought possible, Harry doesn't know who he can trust; but he knows he can't keep going that way. There's a whole world of lore and politics and history to catch up on, and the more he learns, the more Harry realises his true place in the world, and how much is being kept hidden from him. All the while, Dumbledore's twinkling eyes are constantly watching, and Harry can't let on how much he knows. With help from unexpected places, Harry starts on a journey to end the war, and reshape the wizarding world. With how much he looks like James Potter, people have forgotten one important thing about him - he is Lily Evans' son, and she was one hell of a witch.

my thoughts: i have no words to express what this means to me, so i’m just gonna leave it at that. but this was a whole-ass experience, and it’s just so comforting to me.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 307k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

my thoughts: did i ever mention i loved soft, slow stories when i’m in the mood for it (which is pretty much always)? well, i do. and this was exactly that. something so adorable, sweet, softly angsty and character-driven, not even an ounce of conflict from the “world”. it’s more about figuring yourself out, your place in the world, who you are. and fics like these teach me so much about how people try to mold themselves to fit a standard they think they should be upholding instead of saying “fuck the world, i’m gonna do as i damn well please and no one can stop me.” that’s what happened to harry. harry woke up one day and realized the way he was living wasn’t truly him living, he was merely surviving for the sake of it. just existing. the way people thought he was just having a mid-life crisis is just so incredibly sad and funny because those sort of thoughts can creep in at any point in life when you realize you’re dissatisfied with life. it doesn’t have to be necessarily only when you’re young, or at a certain age. i loved seeing these men falling in love, letting down their guard and finally righting the “mistakes” they made in the past. harry was just doing his best™️ as we all are, and i feel like he’s representing all of us in a way. i love that for us and for him.