#so i’m not gonna go much further I think

[angelplummie]

getting baby trapped by 30s art……… i m unwell. after a messy divorce with tashi he found you, his kinder, softer, altogether more human younger girlfriend, and he can’t get enough. part of him craves tashis authority, but the other part of him relishes in being more than someone, older and stronger and wiser. he loves the way you make him feel, loves the way you dote on him and listen to him and take him in his entirety. loves the way you don’t play fucking tennis, you talk about other things, care about other things, fuck about other things. loves the way you lay down on your back for him and do as he says, even when he commands you in his soft, kind way. loves the way your eyes bead with tears as he pounds your tight young cunt and stares into your blistering face. he loves to stretch you open on his long cock and use you, use you for his pleasure until you cream and whimper, eat his seed from your sore, spasming cunt. he could fuck you however he wanted, and you adored him for it. in all his years he had never had so much sexual freedom, never been as totally and utterly fufilled. he loves how you thank him, for everything. with the newest dior hanging from your arm, you thank him. with his cum still on your tongue and bleary eyes, you thank him. he loves so much about you he’s starting to think he loves you. he loves you. you’re everything he needs after all that transpired with tashi, he needs someone loving and open. he wants you forever. but you’re so young. you could change, it could all go away so quickly. he needs a way to keep you, to make sure you always look at him with stars in your eyes, make sure you need him as much as he needs you. so slowly, he begins hiding your birth control. not very well, if you really wanted to find it you would have. but you didn’t. and you won’t.

“art,” you sigh as your wonderful boyfriend kisses your neck. you lay on his white sofa together, legs interlocked, pressing into every part of each other.

“art,” you sigh again, his hands palming your breast over your thin cami,”art, i forgot to take my pill. i couldn’t find my pill.”

“hmm,” he moans into your neck, grinding his hips into your thigh.

“art we can’t.”

“i want you.”

you giggle, and let him push away your top, and take your soft nipple into his mouth until it hardened, and deep in your core you felt a furling, peeling pleasure.

“i’m ovulating,” you breathe,”im gonna get pregnant.”

he groans, rock hard dick straining against his shorts, against your supple thigh. his hands roam over your torso and with kitten licks he flicks your nipple. you expel a soft breath, fingers carding through the blonde, tousled hair you suggested he grew out. you were making him young again.

“i want you. i’ll get a condom in a second.”

he’s lying. hes a liar and a bad bad man and he knows it. but he can’t care. you mewl once more about ovulating, but your fingers comb through his hair, and your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut as he sucks and licks and paws at your tits, humping your thigh with his achingly hard cock.

“i’m… art… pregnant…” you whine half heartedly, but it only makes him sigh deeper, and he imagines the day that you’ll tell him that in complete sentences. would you be teary eyed? would you need convincing? or would you give yourself to him like he felt you would? only time would tell.

“shhhh.”

you twitched, spine arching and pushing yourself further into his mouth.

“i’m gonna grab a condom any second,” he murmured, “i want you now.”

“you have me now.”

he moves up your body and presses his lips to yours, large hand ghosting your jaw. you close your lips against each others, and open again to touch lip to tongue and tongue to tooth, to taste and to breathe each other. he tastes like sweet nothing, like air and cleanliness and summer. you taste like honey to him. your fingers tuck his hair behind his peach fuzzed ear delicately, and you breathe against each others upper lip. his nose mushes against yours and he flicks his tongue at your gums and lips. it deepens, and he toes the line between lavishing you in affection and trying to eat you lips first. it’s hungry and wet, and you forget where his mouth begins and yours ends, all becoming blurred in the spit and the heat of it.

he pulls away, with a spit string connecting your two puffy lips. his eyes twinkle in the dim light that can reach them in your tight embrace.

“why don’t you take off your panties?”

and he leant away, the warmth of his body leaving you burning in its absence. he sat, perched, watching you from above. he looked down his nose at you with a smile, so genuine and yet so condescending. so soft and nurturing, like you needed to be guided and taken care of. that him seeing you naked and feeling your insides and making you stupid and small was what you needed, was how he had to take care of you. it was times like this that you thought about the age difference, when he made you so aware that he could make you want to do anything, anything if it was just to please him. a special ability only he had over you, and if he has his way you would feel it forever. you scramble to be more upright, to rest on your elbows and lift your hips far enough that your reaching fingers could pull down your cotton panties. you writhed beneath him to reveal yourself, nipples peaking from your cami as he watched you fully clothed, in his white shirt and loose pyjama shorts. his hair was ruffled, this way and that, and he looked more collected than he ever had.

shed of your tiny covering, the orange glow of the living room light reflecting off the wetness that was smeared to your inner thigh. from under your lashes u stare up at him, the way his shirt clings involuntarily to the tightness of his core and to his broad shoulders, the way his blonde eyelashes flutter at the sight of your thighs, your hips, your tits, all the parts of you that spill over with softness. your lips part slightly, and in silence you forget what he wants you to forget and beg him to have his way with you.

he was pulled to you once more like a magnet, and you instinctively bent your knees up and spread your legs to receive his torso and hips. he took the bends of your knees in each hand and folded you up so that your ankles hung by his shoulders, bouncing in the air as the sofa gave way for his weight. he knelt above you for just a moment, just a tortuous moment before bending down, sliding his body back so his face could remain above your hot pussy.

with an untroubled drop of the wrist, your legs fell to his shoulders, sprawled on his back. the innermost part of your thighs pressed lightly to his ear, and your heels rested lightly on his back.

with his head situated mere inches from your hot throbbing hole, he took the opportunity to take his time. while he had you in the palm of his hand he made you suffer for it, kissing the tender flesh that shined with the mess he had made for you.

every touch was torture, and he knew what he was doing. his eyes never left your face, the ghost of a smile across his lips whenever they were not eclipsed by the fat of your thighs. your eyes never left his face either, and you watched him breathlessly. he licks a stripe of skin against the grain of your leg hair, and you make a sound like you’re crying.

“oh,” you whisper, “please.”

he hums, laughing. the air from his nose hits your folds and you twitch.

“ok,” he’s soft, controlled, serene.

lips parted, he leans forward into your core, not for one second breaking eye contact with you as he takes your clit into his wet mouth. his pink tongue lathes it, up and down and up and down.

his fingers make sharp indents in your thigh to stop your wriggling, and he forces your ass into his chest. he cranes his neck to eat you deeper, and you cry out, tears beading in your eyes. sucking brutally, he moans into your hole.

“fuck,” you fist the cushion beside you, gathering the fabric and ungathering it,”fuck.”

he eats your pussy like it’s your mouth, makes out with it, makes love to it. he seems to take you in your entirety into his mouth, making you all wet with him, covered and soaked. he reaches up slowly, taking your hand in his, and squeezes it softly. your fingers are tight, paralysed in his hold. the pressure his hand provides gets rid of your compulsive need to squeeze, pacifies you, makes you dumb and limp. you lie back, no longer watching his eyes trained on you, your mouth hanging open and your eyes fluttering closed. you moan involuntarily, unaware at all that you’re alive, that you haven’t died and gone to heaven.

his thumb rubs soft circles on the back of your hand in time with his mouthing, the swirl of his tongue and the rhythmic closing of his mouth. you taste like honey here too, like nectar and sugar and love. your ankles lock together and unlock on his back, and the mere feeling of that sends chills down his whole body.

suddenly he stops. he lays a final fat kiss on your clit, watching as you mewl and your tight, ready hole gushes. he pulls away with your puppy fat legs still hugging side burns and jaw. gently he rises and slips out of your leggy grasp, fingers still interlocked with yours. he wants to kiss you. you are so pathetic when he has his way with you, so passive and pliable. he wants to hurt you because you would let him, but infinitely more and for the exact same reason he wants only to look after you. to make you happy and full and rewarded for your eternal beauty, inside and out.

he wanted to kiss you, and so he did. he leaned over, still completely dressed, and draped his slender, finely chiselled body over yours. it even made him light headed to think about being close to you, to your body, not hardened by the dedication that destroyed him, left soft and unscarred, left without taint. his underbelly of tenderness was your everywhere. you were the rounding to his shoulders, the layer of fat that kept him in warm in winter.

you collided without friction, his wet lips gliding over yours in a dance of want. your legs were still under his control, and as such you were spread beneath him. your knees dangled by his sides, leaving your pussy wide open to leave sloppy kisses on his shorts. you kissed back with the same ferocity. despite your implicit submission, you wanted to consume him as much as he wanted to consume you, if not more. you gave him what he wanted because you wanted to give it to him. wanted to give him everything he would receive.

you gave him your tongue, which he accepted with a grin.

you gave him coiling fingers that grasped the fabric on his back desperately, which he took for momentum. he rolled forward on top of you, deepening the hold his mouth had on yours.

you gave him moans, whimpers from a wavering throat which he took for courage.

“im so hard for you,” you felt the reverberation of his voice in your very core, and you died a sweet death,”i’m gonna put it in.”

“uh huh.”

success. you had forgotten. he laughed, mischievously, and a smile settled into the curves of his face.

all you heard was the snap of elastic, the rustle of fabric and the dulled slap of arts heavy cock against his t-shirt.

all you saw was his pupils grow until his eyes appeared black, like an animal’s, looking at you so directly you felt he saw you deeper than skin, deeper than meat or bone. you felt utterly seen, and utterly loved. you met his gaze pleadingly, eyebrows quirking up in the centre and lips pouting. please, it told him, please my love.

“you want it?” he breathed. pre cum smeared the fat tip, his balls hung low out of his shorts that gathered at his middle thigh. it was so big. long and fat and filling. so big and so pretty, so big and pretty it was all you could do not to cry.

“i want it art,” you replied, voice clipped and cheeks burning,”i want you.”

“yeah?”

he touched your face, from your jaw to the temple. he didn’t even try to kiss you. he just held your face. he was gentle, gentle, gentle as ever. his every action was kind. you love him. you’re in love with him.

“i want you art. i love you.”

and that was that. he was getting you pregnant tonight. someone would have to pry him off of you, because so help him god he would drain himself dry in your hot wet cunt if it was the last thing he ever did.

you squealed as he pushed the entirety of his cock in, bulbous head stretching your cunt wider than any cock had stretched it before. but it slipped in so easily with the outpour of your sticky love. it made a thick squelch, and he groaned so loud, squeezed his eyes shut so hard, you might’ve thought he was being tortured.

“fuck!”

the force of his thrust had caused the thick juices of you arousal to spread around his thick cock where he stretched you out, the pain minimal, familiar and intoxicating.

you throbbed in unison, blood coursing through where you connected. you were so tight and hot, so fucking wet. art struggled, arms bracing either side of your shoulders, to force the rest of himself into you. he also struggled to think, to be a human and not a ploughing, panting, thoughtless dog.

a moan rose through your throat, broke from you involuntarily, came out like the sound of murder. your taut pussy suckled his fat dick with every pulse and quiver. you felt him so deep inside you, and he fought to push deeper. fingers still locked, his crushed your knuckles and your palm.

“oh my fucking god.”

it could’ve been either one of you, because you both meant to say it. this moment of stillness and feeling waited one more second, before art became beast, and drew back his hips so that only his pink tip stayed gripped inside. you felt so soul crushingly empty, until he drove himself back in, and you were brought back to life.

“god,” he pounded any thoughts away, any and all of them, until all you could do was breath and blaspheme, “fucking- christ.”

the buttery, fevered roll of his hips was one he was in no control of. he felt as though he was being moved by some godly force to cram your tight cunt full of him. his jaw hung open, and the hand that didn’t hold yours instead held your shoulder, dwarfing in it in his wide palm. holding onto you for sanity, his eyes opened to take in what he had done to you.

“you’re so tight. perfect. perfect. perfect.”

“i love you.”

“i love you. i love you. please god.”

what was he asking for? was he asking you or god? you would do it for him, regardless. you would do it.

your hand reached into his hair, and tugged hard. a whorish moan left his lips, the rolling of his lower half stuttering as his neck arched up. his knees were spread wide, digging deeply into his sofa. his pelvis moved on its own, smoothly, as if he had reverted to his baser instincts and let years of evolution take its course, nature guiding him to your inevitable impregnation.

you were as he liked you, completely dumb. he was too gone to enjoy it, but on another planet of pleasure entirely. he couldn’t relish in the feeling of control, but he could in the feeling of you, of having you, being loved by and loving you. the suckling heat of you was more than a man could take, and the picture beneath him was no more comprehensible.

your angel lips spread to a glistening tongue, your eyes glassy and dilated, your brow creased, hair mussed. he had to have that too, and so he kissed you once more. the hand on his hair tightened, and he moaned into your mouth.

he pumped your pussy so deep, pre cum was dashed from his oozing tip inside you, heavy balls slapping at your skin. you were so wet you didn’t notice, only felt the heat and the mind numbing ecstasy. the feeling of being pounded like a piece of meat till your tight girl pussy remembered every vein his grown man dick, but kissed like a lover and held like a princess pushed you that much closer, sent you that little bit more over the edge. you needed it. you needed him to cum. to please your daddy.

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum inside you.”

“fucking do it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. get me fucking pregnant art.”

that was all he needed. he breathed into your lips and cried out, long steady body shuddering like a leaf. he held you close, pressing his weight on top of your till he could feel the fat of your breasts move around his chest. cum, thick and milky white, shot deep into your cunt, which even now gripped him tighter than ever. so much of it too. his meaty balls tweaked as their contents leaked into where they were always supposed to go.

your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, parting your lips in a silent scream.

his cock had not moved an inch from where it rested fully buried in your pussy. it was wet. it would spill out once he removed himself. it needed to stay inside.

he pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering closed from exhaustion and contentedness. you didn’t even think about what art had just done. you didn’t even realise he had done anything. he was just doing what you needed him to do.

you needed him. forever.

[undertheorangetree]

Tantrum

Summary- Art’s girlfriend sucks at tennis. He helps her feel better.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Stanford era Art. Exhibitionism. Body worship. Cunnilingus. Wee bit of fingering. P in V sex. Riding. The fluffiest giggliest sex you've ever seen. Me not knowing a damn thing about tennis.

Author's Note- Hi idk if you noticed but i have Challengers brain rot rn specifically for Art Donaldson :// As a theatre kid I simply had no choice it was always gonna be him. Read the full fic on AO3.

When Art had looked up at her with big pleading eyes, all but begging her to allow him to teach her the basics of tennis, she was in no position to refuse. It had been sweet, how badly he wanted to share his passion with her, the kisses he had peppered across her neck and chest in order to entice her into it, and she couldn’t so much as imagine denying him. Forget the fact that she had never held a racket in her life, that her strengths had always been rooted in academia rather than athletics.  If allowing him to teach her would make him happy, she would do it.

Though not without complaint.

She lets out a frustrated grunt as the ball hits the net- again- before turning her head up to glare at Art when he barely manages to stifle his laugh. He smothers it immediately when he catches sight of her glower, hand coming up to rub at his mouth as if he can physically wipe away his smile and she feels her teeth grind together.

“You can’t laugh. You’re the one who wanted me to do this so you’re not allowed to make fun of me,” she complains, her voice half petulance half hurt and immediately his face morphs into something more apologetic.

“I’m sorry baby.” He makes his way closer but she simply rolls her eyes, turning her nose up when he reaches out to her. He takes it in stride. “I’m not laughing at you, you’re doing very well. It’s just funny to see you so frustrated.”

It’s her turn to laugh, though it is little more than a humourless bark. “I am not doing very well. I suck.”

He makes a sympathetic noise as he attempts to reach for her again. She allows it begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as his hands close around her elbows, face dropping into her neck to press a kiss there. She thinks that he’s about to praise her further, try to coax her back into committing herself to the game, but he stays silent, continuing to lavish her with silent kisses.

She’s happy for the odd hour they decided to come here, the tennis court completely devoid of any other life. It’s a colder night than it should be for mid spring, the floodlights and moon the only two things to provide them with any light, and she’s grateful finals have chased everyone else away. She’s glad to have this time alone with him, despite her frustration. To feel like they are the only two people in the world.

“You’re just hitting the ball too hard,” he explains, face still half buried in her throat. “And you aren’t even attempting to aim. Putting everything you have behind the hit doesn’t make it a good one if you don’t know where you’re sending it. There’s more to tennis than just force, you have to be smart about it.”

She scoffs, reaching up to press her palm against his forehead and shove him away, ignoring the shit eating grin that’s made itself known on his face. “Just go over there and hit the damn ball. Before I leave you here by yourself.”

The grin doesn’t fade, his amusement more than clear, but he does as she asks, returning to his side of the court. She lets out another aggravated sigh as she returns to the position he had told her to wait in, knees bent as she waits for him to serve, realizing more and more that she prefers to watch him play tennis rather than do it with him. She finds far more joy watching him from the stands as he chases after the ball, sweat dripping from his curls and grunts echoing in her ears. Here, where she is the one chasing the ball like a damn dog and failing to send it sailing over the net when she does manage to catch it, there is no time to admire Art in his element.

She almost feels bad for her poor attitude, wishing she was less competitive so that she could simply enjoy this quality time with him, but every failure does nothing but enrage her further, sending her spiralling further into frustration.

Read the rest here :)

[emmyrosee]

oikawa you say?? my favourite character in the whole entire series? you don’t understand how happy I am to hear you say that bc I’ve been sitting on this idea for so long not sure if I should send it in or not BC I WASN’T SURE IF YOU WERE INTO OIKAWA THAT MUCH 😭 …alright I’m gonna call myself out a bit with this one. BUT ITS OKAY ITS FINE.

hype man oikawa. he’s. so. good. at. hyping. you. up!!!!

you don’t ever feed your own ego so HE DOES IT FOR U. like, let’s say you managed to accomplish something (big or small, an accomplishment is an accomplishment) and it becomes a big point of pride for you, like huge, and you don’t want to show it that much cause??? you don’t want to come off as if you’re bragging!!! but oikawa sees through it and totally just feeds into it to see you smile and stand a bit taller. like out of the blue on a random Tuesday he’d just kiss you on the cheek and bring it up and just 😭🫶🏻

I’m so soft for him emmy. he’s so proud and LOVESSSS it when he sees that you’re proud of yourself too. he’s safe he won’t judge you at all for being just slightly prideful in whatever you’ve done/are doing. HE GETS IT!!!!! (cough that one scene in season 2 with ushijima) HE KNOWS YOU’D DO THE SAME FOR HIM!!!!

MWAH ILY💋 HAPPY MILESTONE!!!!

ARE YOU TRYNA KILL ME?

Oikawa is the best hype man you could ask for, because he knows how good praise feels and how bad degradation feels, so he’s always the one to take all your accomplishments- be it taking a shower after a bad day, to getting a promotion at work- and make them the biggest deal he ever could.

“UHHH BABY!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU, THIS IS A BIG DEAL!” He always says, cradling your face in his big hands and beaming down at you with the most pleased twinkle in his eye. You merely shrug and giggle softly, which he dramatically gasp, “are you NOT completely impressed with yourself? Because I will make you be.”

“No, no, I am!” You assure, nuzzling into his warm palm. “It’s just… it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big-“ he cuts of his repeating with a dramatic sigh and playful scratch of his head, “babe, you do realize this is something you accomplished. This is another checkmark on how great and smart you are- not to mention how hot-“

“I don’t think this has anything to do with being hot,” you snort.

But Tooru doesn’t let it go. Nay nay.

The next morning, the smell of fresh fruit and baked goods filled the air (obviously from the store because he’s banned from cooking without your watchful supervision), and you smile in the warmth of your pillow and slowly sit up with a stretch, swinging your legs over the bed and shuffling to the kitchen.

“BABYYYY!” He beams as he sees you, dropping the muffin he was holding to immediately pull you into a hug, peppering your face with kisses. You giggle at the tickly feeling and smile at him, only to pout as he pulls away to pick up the muffin. “Did you sleep well? I mean, I assumed you did, because you were drooling on me, so…”

“I do not drool!” You snicker, but your further teases die on your tongue when he makes his way to the counter and grabs a thick bouquet of flowers, your cheeks blazing at how serious he finds this and is encouraging you to do the same. “You didn’t have to do all of this,” you mewl, walking back into his arms. He wraps his free one around you and kisses your head repeatedly.

“Yes, I did,” he whispers. “Don’t be humble. You’ve earned this. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

Tears sting at your eyes at his words, and you burrow into him deeper, taking selfish inhales of his clean scent and fresh cologne, the closeness of the flowers adding a sweetness to your man.

“Come on,” he encourages, pulling away once again to get you to enjoy your breakfast. “I got you some pastries, grabbed you a breakfast sandwich, cut up some fruit, and I grabbed you one of those smoothies you like so much.” He says all of this with pride and a broad smile, pulling out a chair for you to sit in, “here. I’ll make you a plate.”

“I can do that,” you giggle.

“I don’t want you to. Today is all about celebrating you- who would I be if I didn’t pamper you today?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” you hum, watching him move around the kitchen and blushing slightly as he winks at you. He puts down the flowers and gets busy making you a plate of breakfast. “Hey, Tooru?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Thank you. For letting me have this. And being yourself.”

He smiles and chuckles to himself, scooping you a big helping of fruit.

“I’ve got you, baby. Gonna always take care of you and your accomplishments.

“You deserve it.”

[mammonsrockstargf]

Your pretty baby. Your beautiful demon. Your lovely white-haired, money-gambling idiot. Your first man. He’s so cute that it makes you just wanna reach out and grab his cheeks and—

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for?”

You blink out of your trance. Mammon looks suspicious, with furrowed brows and a tiny pout on his lips. You smile. “I was just thinking about how pretty you look,” you say, and Mammon’s cheeks instantly turn bright red. He covers the lower half of his face with his hands while his eyes dart around the room.

“Why you gotta be so blunt about it?” He murmurs, embarrassed by his own body's reaction. It’s never betrayed him as much as it does when he’s with you. It reacts so easily to your adoration, your touch, your attention. Mammon knows he's pretty. Yet it's so different when you say it, voice laced with such fondness that it makes his heart beat so loud, he's afraid you might hear it.

You get up from where you’re sitting by your desk to where he’s sitting on your bed, his back propped against the headboard. His lap looks so spacey, so comfortable. Surely he wouldn't mind if you were to sit there, right?

You plop down, easily making yourself comfortable. “H-hey!” Mammon stutters, and you grin up at him while settling against him, bodies easily fitting together as you straddle him and wrap your arms around his torso. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” you ask, perhaps a little too late, and Mammon sighs but wraps his arms around you nevertheless, somehow pulling you closer.

“I guess it’s fine, but it’s not free, ya know,” Mammon says, and you raise a brow while a little grin forms on your lips. Mammon grins back, and his eyes flicker to your lips for a second. “I take credit or cash,” he states, and you roll your eyes. “I guess I’ll just go find a free seat instead then,” you say, and you begin to untangle your limbs from Mammons, pretending to get out of his lap. “I don’t think Levi charges anything,” you tease, and Mammon gasps in dismay as he pulls you closer, not letting you get away. You giggle as Mammon furrows his brows. “You can’t joke about that kind of thing!” he whines, and you reach up to flick his forehead lightly. “Then don’t be an idiot,” you say, and Mammon uses one hand to rub his forehead while the other is still tightly wrapped around your waist.

“Auch,” he complains, and you coo. "Oh, my little demon, I’m sorry,” you say, and Mammon glares at you. “Want me to kiss it better?” you ask, and the glare melts as you cup his face with your hands and bring his forehead to your lips. You feel the demon underneath you somehow melt even further into you as he rests his head in the crook of your neck while you run your fingers through his white hair.

“You don’t mean any of that, right?” Mammon asks after a couple of minutes of silence. You feel his breath against your collarbone, and he presses a light kiss to your skin. “Hm?” you ask, and he gives you another kiss before pulling back to look at you. You move your hands to settle on his shoulders. “You’re not gonna leave me, right?” he asks, and you feel your heart swell as he pouts slightly, a light blush still grazing his cheeks. You press a quick kiss to his lips. “Oh, Mams, you sweet, sweet idiot,” you say, and give him another quick kiss. “I promise you’re never getting rid of me,” you say, and Mammon's grip on your waist slightly tightens, as if he's making sure you're still there.

"Good," he says, and you run your hands up and down his shoulders. Mammon grins and shamelessly lets his eyes roam, taking in every detail of your smile, your nose, your eyes. 

"You're pretty too," he says eventually and you smile and rest your head on his chest. "Thank you, Mams," you say and listen to the sound of his heart beating. You suppose it would be calming if it didn't sound like it was on its way out of his chest. 

"Why is your heart beating so fast?" 

"Ahhh, uhhmm, no reason it just does that sometimes." 

a/n: it’s me, i’m reader, reader is me find my masterlist here

divider by @/cafekitsune

[steddiecameraroll]

Pt 1

Steve tells Eddie about the bet

“Dude, you’re not going to believe this.” Steve leans against Eddie’s headboard and tries to exude nonchalance.

“Sup?” Eddie plucks his acoustic guitar trying to work on one of his new songs.

“At work yesterday, Rob and I were talking about random shit and you won’t believe it, but for some reason she thinks you have a small dick.”

“What?” Eddie stops moving his fingers to gawk at Steve.

“I know, man.” Steve puts his hands up with a shrug. “I tried to defend you because we’re friends, and that’s a part of the code. I’m not gonna let someone say that about you. But she was weirdly adamant, even bet me. Which, I mean, that’s crazy.”

“She bet you? Wait,” Eddie furrows his brows. “She bets I have a small dick?”

“Yeah, rough. I bet you don’t, though.” Steve takes a sip of his beer to stop from saying anything further.

“Of course I don’t. What does she think small is? Does she think I have a micro or something?” Eddie puts his guitar down and turns to face Steve completely.

“I don’t know.”

“Why would she say that? Does it look small in my pants?” Eddie looks down at his crotch and Steve tries to keep his eyes pointed upwards.

“Y’know I haven’t really looked.”

“Shit,” Eddie stands up and shakes his jeans out. “Does it look small?” He keeps his head down trying to gauge based off the bulge.

“Um, it’s kinda hard to see.”

“What?” Eddie angles his hips trying to let the overhead light shadow over his jeans. “Wait, it’s just cause they’re black jeans. Look.” He says before quickly unbuckling his pants and then shoving them down to his thighs exposing the blue plaid boxers underneath. “See?”

Steve swallows hard when he notices Eddie thrusts his hips forward a little to accentuate the tenting of fabric.

“Mhmm, yep,” Steve says tightly.

“What was the bet?” Eddie leaves his jeans around his thighs and crosses his arms.

“Oh, uh,” Steve shakes his head and averts his eyes. “I’d have to buy her like an entire feast of breakfast foods. Basically enough food to feed a village.”

“Would you get any?”

“Probably not,” Steve nods solemnly. “She’s kinda selfish like that.”

She’s not, at all, and Eddie would know that if he was thinking with anything other than the size of his dick. But Steve’s taking the chance.

“Well y’know what? Screw her. I don’t have a small dick.” He leans forward and grabs his crotch for emphasis.

“Yeah, screw her. I bet you don’t.”

“Yeah, fuck that!” Eddie hooks his thumbs into his waistband and pulls his boxers down exposing his semi hard dick to Steve’s hungry eyes. “See?” Eddie takes his dick comfortably into his hand and absentmindedly starts tugging on it. “That’s not small.”

“N-no, nope, not at all.” Steve can’t stop himself from biting his bottom lip.

“I bet you have a big dick too, Harrington. Buckley doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s crotch while his hand begins stroking himself slowly.

“It’s not as big as yours, but yeah it’s above average. She’s so wrong. I wouldn’t even know what to do with that thing.” Oh yes he would.

“You wanna touch it?” Eddie lets his now fully erect dick go, and it bobs in the air tauntingly.

“Sure?” Steve shifts on the bed to his knees, sets his beer on the nightstand, and crawls over to the edge in front of Eddie.

“She’s gonna owe you so much fucking food, man.” Eddie grins and Steve sorta forgot what they were talking about. “Go ahead, feel the weight.”

Steve reaches for it, trying to act like this isn’t life changing for him, and when his fingers brush against the soft warm skin of Eddie’s shaft the man suddenly shudders under the touch. A soft huff escapes Eddie’s lips when Steve looks up, mouth open, fingers wrapping around Eddie’s dick. Steve sees something flicker behind Eddie’s eyes that looks a lot like lust.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie sighs before leaning forward, grabbing Steve’s face, and kissing him hard.

Steve melts into the kiss finding it’s everything he imagined.

“You’re gonna fucking tell Buckley, you know for a firsthand fact my dick isn’t small.” Eddie growls then pushes Steve back onto the mattress before crawling over his body and kissing him senseless.

“Yeah I am,” Steve smiles and shifts his hips to get his legs comfortably wrapped around Eddie, pulling him in closer.

Eddie takes a pull off his cigarette before passing it to Steve.

“I still don’t understand why she thinks I have a small dick.”

Steve puts the filter to his lips and ducks away to hide a smile. “No idea.”

“How did that even come up?” Eddie stretches out next to Steve, still naked, with the sheet only covering his lower half.

“We were just talking,” Steve shrugs before passing the cigarette back.

He knows that’s probably not a good enough excuse, so when Eddie puts the cigarette to his mouth Steve leans over and starts kissing along Eddie’s pecs to distract him. Eddie hums and stretches more, dropping his fingers into Steve’s hair and scratching gently.

“But, what were you talking about?”

Steve stops his kissing to lean up on his elbow and look Eddie in the eye. “Ok, don’t get mad, buuuut…” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “She only bet because I made her.”

“What?”

“I kinda wanted to see your dick, and I figured you’d show it to me if I told you Robin thought it was small.” Eddie’s mouth falls open. “But! I did not expect this turn of events. I’m not complaining,” he rushes out hoping to reassure Eddie. “Actually, I’m really happy about this.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” Eddie says with a grin.

“What, oh hey, Eddie. Can I see your dick? I kinda can’t stop thinking about it and want to know how accurately close my imagination is. Like that?”

“Yeah, that woulda worked.”

“Jesus,” Steve sighs then collapses onto his back next to Eddie with a smile.

He’s going to be so sore tomorrow but it’s totally worth it.

Robin definitely owes him waffles.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Not that i’m complaining - but don’t you think 8 episodes are too long to cover the second part of the book? Or are they gonna add more stuff from other books like with Lestat and Nicki’s relationship? but then what’s left for season 3,4,5? lol sorry this is a dumb question

Well, I mean, they are not only taking from IWTV?

For example the apparently-DM-bottle-episode-5. That's from QotD, ultimately.

Fareed and whatever is going on re "great conversion" is Merrick, PL, PLatRoA.

The flashbacks to the 1500s and 1790s are from TVL and TVA.

Raglan James is from TtotBT.

And all the hints re brains and beheadings makes me think we're getting a certain part of TVA.

That said, we're only getting a certain POVs this season, Lestat's POV will be quite different in s3... and s4 will likely segue into either TtotBT or QotD, depending.

As per your worries re what is left to tell us (I think that is what you mean?):

Well, I mean... the next two episodes will delve deeper into Loumand, the coven, Madeleine and Claudia, and her stage appearances. In addition to that we will get flashbacks, and scenes with Raglan James. AND Daniel's mind will unravel further. That's... actually quite a lot?^^ Imho, at least.

And then that episode 5. Apparently that's one where you don't breathe much it's so intense. That'll fly by I bet^^.

And then... episode 6... well. Episode 6 will end with Louis, Claudia and Madeleine getting dragged to the trial I bet. So that will likely be the episode they turn Madeleine and where Louis decides he wants to go with them after all - and leave Armand. And that... will tip the scales.

Episode 7 will be the trial and further Dubai unraveling, by both Louis and Daniel I bet, the cut out diary pages juxtaposed to the trial happening, and some flashbacks to episode 5 and episode 7. Because... as theorized before, I bet they happened closer to what happened in the book, and if they use that and what Claudia writes in Merrick in the trial?? Ooof.

And episode 8... well episode 8 will be the game-changer. It will pull the ground out from beneath our feet and the character's feet. It will end in a rather cataclysmic manner, it has to, because somehow we'll have to get to s3.

And somewhere in those last episodes we'll get more Talamasca, Daniel's health declining, the NOLA meeting, why Louis has stopped killing in the year 2000, why he is missing some memories, why Armand tries so hard to keep him from digging too hard. And what happened between Daniel and Armand.

And a thousand other little things plus some further cameo vampire appearances.

I don't know... I actually think that's quite a lot ?! :))

[dearweirdme]

(warning, this got way longer than anticipated sorry)

ik this is probably a dead topic to you and i apologize for bringing it up again but i was just rewatching the leaked jk videos of him in his apartment with that girl bc i saw some discourse abt it in another tkk blog’s comments. some jk stan who’s convinced he’s straight, that he was sleeping arnd/had a girlfriend, and that we’re all delusional came in the comments and basically started stirring shit lol. they mentioned they believed he was dating that tattoo artist girl who he was photographed w his arms arnd as well. but i thought she had a bf at the time of that pic being released? idk fs tho and that pic def gave off close friend vibes to me?

anyways, seeing the discourse made me go back and watch the video again and the more i watch it the more conflicted i get. like he is rlly all over her. arms wrapped all around her and walking holding her from behind like that. ofc it’s POSSIBLE that they’re just friends especially if he is gay/queer (ik that kind of physical affection is more typically acceptable between queer men and straight women than when both parties are straight). but to me for some reason it seems improbable and like that’s just an excuse to keep myself believing in tkk ? like really…we’re convincing ourselves him and the girl he had at his apartment at night alone w him are just friends when almost everyone and their mother would see that as clearly romantic and crossing platonic boundaries ? he’s THAT close, comfortable, and affectionate w a girl he’s just friends with ?

lol subconsciously i feel like im probably submitting this to ur account hoping ur response will give me reassurance that the interaction was not romantic even when it’s likely that it was. to me the video is clearly real and it is actually jungkook so that’s not at all the part that im debating about, but just the nature of the interaction ig ? like how long am i going to convince myself he’s queer and w taehyung when theres a lot that implies otherwise…

but then i think back on the reasons why i believe in tkk and that makes me even more confused lol. bc if i tell myself to just accept that jk is straight/not romantically involved w taehyung then idk how to make sense of many of tkk’s interactions either. like the kappa sweethearts tshirt is the one that rlly gets me for some reason. bc there’s no shot it was a coincidence they were wearing such a specific niche tshirt on the same day at the same time too. and why would friends wear matching literal “sweethearts” tshirts? they wouldn’t right? ik other ppl value the dream premiere and other moments more but those tshirts are so unarguable that it’s something i always circle back to. like to me saying their clothes at the dream premiere were intentionally queer coded is not something that is necessarily factually true. it’s more so an assumption after extensively digging into the background of their clothes which they may or may not have even noticed/intended. that to me could be argued as a coincidence but the kappa shirts are 100% the same specific tshirt and it was 100% the same day. that being a coincidence is less likely to me.

the other thing is the way they keep their friendship/relationship so much more under wraps than the others. but maybe that’s something we’ve just convinced ourselves of when maybe they haven’t rlly been that private/secretive abt it? idk i just go round and round in circles. i’ll come to a point where i feel SO sure that tkk are romantically together (especially with how explicit tae is w his support of the queer community) but then i’ll see some shit like that video of jk in his apartment w a girl and the whole thing gets derailed.

sorry i’ve just talked in circles atp and i could probably go back and forth w more examples for forever but yeah idk just wanted to hear your thoughts bc idk how you’re able to stay so secure in believing they are together. and i don’t think u seem like the type to just continuously convince urself of something that is delusional through confirmation bias and disregard of opposing evidence.

Hi anon!

Yeah, you probably ar submitting this because you want me to reassure you 😊 and that’s totally fine honestly. I mean, we are invested in Tae and Jk and stuff can really become complicated and confusing at times. Being confused is never a great feeling and you just want to not feel confused.

I need things to be realistic myself as well. I don’t need Jk and Tae to be together, I basically just think they are. I’m not afraid to step away from them if I feel they’re no longer together (or.. if they never were). And I will definitely let everyone know if/when I ever feel like something is off (and right after that I will hide because Jkkrs and anti’s will come for my head 😂).

To me it is all about the things I know for sure. Like Tae wearing that t-shirt for instance.. on the same day as Jk when he shot that mv. To me that is something strong and real talking in favor of them being together. Same goes for other situations: Tae and Jk at that hotel after/before Dubai, Jk singing that song to Tae, BH acting weird about them (and them alone), the way Tae constantly mentions Jk… and I could go on for a while probably. Those are actual things we have witnessed.. things that are real and when you look at the whole of it.. things that are consistent and that we have witnessed for a prolonged duration of time.

When I look at the footage of supposedly Jk with that girl, I see a person backhugging a girl for a real short amount of time. I have no context, I have no clue about there being more people or not. I can also clearly see that the footage is manipulated. I know it was released at a shady timing, with the purpose of harming him. I know that there’s an actual platform where people who hate him gather and plan stuff like this.

So when I put what I know is true about Jk and Tae next to what I know of that footage… the scale just tips over. I do not trust shady footage more than I trust what I know of Jk and Tae. And I might be wrong.. absolutely. But I just don’t think I am.

If I had no knowledge about Tae and Jk before seeing that footage.. maybe I wouldn’t have secondguessed it as well. But, I do have that other knowledge and therefore if I see something that goes against that.. I look at what’s fed to me more critically.

I don’t know if this has settled your mind anon. Personally I always feel fine with not having all the answers, but I can also understand that can be real unsettling. Maybe try and land in the ‘I don’t know for now’ zone for a bit?

[lopez-richter-fangirl]

Do you honestly think tcb will reach their goal?

I have to believe that they will but I am fucking stressed and fucking scared

The thing is there’s literally no reason they SHOULDN’T. Yes it’s a bigger goal than they’ve ever had but shipwrecked raised that amount for headless and starkid raised almost double that for returns with a smaller slate of projects. Even in TCB’s own kickstarters they raised 100k for a single staged barebones workshop reading. Yes 200k is a lot of money, but for how much they’re doing with it?? It’s TINY

Two concert screenings, one of them international. A full month international play run. A brand new musical with performances in LA and eventually internationally. A concert performance of a show we’ve never heard live yet. A brand new pilot reading. And multiple performances of a live comedy game show

I do think the niche-ness of the campaign branding means they have to work harder to reach a wider audience, but for people who are already aware of what they’re doing, I don’t understand why it’s not showing in the numbers

Please, if anyone’s on the fence, tell me why and let me convince you why this is worth it

[heavyedit]

medical websites love to be like “how to stop having physical stress symptoms: 1. be in less stressful situations 2. don’t be stressed”

[jemmo]

omg so one thing i noticed about the latest his man 2 eps was, like you said in another ask reply, seonwoo stuck his nose into hyungjun and minsung's business for absolutely no reason AND spilled stuff to hyungjun that minsung told him. he even told sungho what junsung said in the kitchen - the whole "i don't like people touching what's mine" and okay yeah whatever, apparently he loves creating drama even though he says he doesn't. however, on the other hand, when jeongwook asked junsung if he was the one yoonghee called, junsung just explained the whole misunderstanding and didn't even reveal who yoonghee actually wanted to call. isn't that common courtesy? isn't that also something seonwoo absolutely just doesn't think of doing? i'm really trying my best not to dislike seonwoo but every time he pulls someone to the side or corners them into a room to talk to them/reveal stuff people said to him, i just have to pause and ask myself "was that really necessary? why? what was the reason?" he's trying so hard to be the main character and it's getting on my nerves because this is a dating show. please focus on the person you're interested in, not your "rival" that you're forcing him to be and just let everyone else do their own thing naturally. god. anyway sorry for the rant, just needed to get this off my chest. 😭

this might just be my favourite his man 2 anon so far bc my dear you are so completely right and correct and valid for all of this I’m screaming for you 👏👏👏 like “was that really necessary?” is exactly what’s going through my head every time seonwoo has a conversation with someone

this comparison of how seonwoo and junsung handle information in the house is so beyond telling ESPECIALLY when you consider how they both handle sharing their own feelings vs sharing gossip/drama about other people, bc junsung handled that whole yonghee situation so perfectly, which sounds like an exaggeration bc it also wasn’t especially difficult, like yes if you know an error has been made, just sort it out with that person so they can do what they want with it and don’t share it with anyone else. you’re exactly right, it’s common curtesy, but also shows how seriously good hearted he is bc it never once ever occurred to him to use it against anyone or share it around as gossip. no, he just simply resolved the situation bc he does not care for the drama. let me say it again; HE DOES NOT CARE FOR THE DRAMA. seonwoo keeps trying to get under his skin and start shit and it gets on his nerves that junsung remains unphased. he entered this house and said I’m here for sungho, everyone else can do whatever, I’m gonna do my shit and just try and stop me. bc that’s the thing, he won’t disclose anyone else’s information or gossip but with his own feelings he will be so forward and direct and clear, precisely bc he doesn’t care for drama or misunderstandings, and bc he remains primarily concerned with himself and what he’s doing, knowing that if he stays true to himself and does what he wants, whatever happens at least then he won’t have any regrets.

seonwoo, on the other hand, will play so high and fast with other people’s words and gossip and drama and yet will hardly say a word about how he’s actually feeling. he will stick his nose into any situation and finds it so easy to just share not just what he’s said but what others have said in private conversations to others, and from what we see he doesn’t clarify whether this is information he can share. so yeah, sure, it’s cute he’s playing matchmaker for minsung and hyungjun, but did either of them ever ask him to? did either of them say hey can you help me out and be the go between telling him what I just said? bc minsung is still considering two options, and seonwoo just seems to be pushing hyungjun down his throat for i don’t even know what or if there is an ulterior motive, but no one is intruding on his situation with sungho and junsung so why he’s doing this I truly don’t know. I’m glad he seems to have a good friendship with minsung but at what point does he just start looking like a stirrer, like I swear how many of the conversations in eps 6 and 7 started bc seonwoo pulled someone to the side. and on top of that, from how many of those conversations did we actually learn how he feels about people. whenever he talks about sungho or yonghee, he says nice things that encourage his relationship with them, sure, but there’s only so many times I can hear “he’s special and not what I expected” and “I would like to try and date you sometime” before I’m asking ok but what does that mean?? how much are you interested and to what extent are you committed/willing to commit to this person??? the stuff that actually matters to the other people involved in these relationships. every conversation with him reminds me of jaewon in the eighth sense saying I’m not just gonna tell you my trauma, you have to coax it out of me and I’m sorry but you do not get the jaewon trauma pass.

and just to say… sungho isn’t out here starting drama either. in the kitchen, he simply says I talked to seonwoo to junsung, and doesn’t really go into anymore detail, bc he doesn’t feel the need to disclose everything. and in that conversation, they both hold a level of respect, junsung respecting the privacy of sungho’s conversation with seonwoo and sungho respecting the privacy of what seonwoo said. and yet without disclosing anything they manage to have a fruitful conversation that establishes where they’re all at, which is what the situation needs, clarity. and it just makes me mad that seonwoo doesn’t afford that same privacy to either of them. like it’s gone past a matter of intent for me, like whether he intends to or not, he is starting drama, and it’s too much.

[dirtbra1n]

thinking. that I’m in my tashiro era

[lesbiangracehanson]

rewatched ‘imperfection’ tonight + there’s just sooooo much going on in that episode like …. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[pacifistcowboy]

i’m nineteen years of age, i shouldn’t be googling shit like “does my crush like me” ffs this is humiliating

[clamsjams]

this might be an abnormal take but i consider youtubers tweeting about how they’re looking for people to work for them to be unprofessional at best and downright exploitative at worst

[medicine-and-molly]

i’m such a slut for 1989

[bo0zey]

everyday i wake up against my will n im lettin y’all know now that i’m abt 1 more waking up against my will day away from somehow someway making it god’s personal problem