#those two are so fucked up its only fair their together

[izzyspussy]

anyway so seasons 1-early 3 mickey is a pessimist with a dash of nihilist (miserable), and because of that ian looks like an optimist verging on idealist to him.

the fact of the matter is that ian is not an optimist and he certainly is not an idealist. he's a little naive, sure, but less than what would be appropriate for his age. he's also not a pessimist or a nihilist (either kind). or a realist or a pragmatist or any of those.

no, ian is quite simply. unfathomably stubborn. and that is all.

he'll get into west point. he's absolutely certain of this. why? because he fucking said so.

he'll have a real relationship with mickey. they are in love and they are going to be together. this is true. how does he know? because. he. fucking. said so.

he doesn't have hope. he doesn't want things. that's pussy shit. there are precisely three types of things in this world: things ian isn't interested in, things ian already has, and things ian will have. that is simply that!

(which is obviously its own very specific mindset and is at least as extreme as pure optimism and pure pessimism, and is almost certainly just another fun little factor when the force of his will alone is not enough to change the reality of an ongoing traumatic event that contributes to the somewhat early onset of his bipolar disorder. but that's tangential.)

now. once again, disclaimer, these characters cease to exist past early season 5 for me, so there's every chance this next bit is exclusive to MY mickey and ian. there's just no way to know ❤️

that said. ian matures into a nihilist (carefree) - and i would say he's here-ish already in season 4, but in a maladaptive way at that stage - and then eventually matures further into a nihilistic (carefree)-leaning pragmatist.

mickey on the other hand - after a period of having no particular mindset of this type of thing at all which in effect amounts to a months-to-a-year long panic attack where his every action is fueled by emotional desperation and he has no solid concept of his own wants, needs, values, or future beyond the ever-present but totally incoherent certainty that he can't live without ian but ian can and will leave him with ease for even the slightest infraction or failure that terrorizes him like a weasel terrorizes a hen in his every waking moment - um. what was i saying.

oh right. mickey on the other hand, after All That, matures first into a sort of quiet idealism (kind of a pendulum swing maybe, but not quite not also progress, iygiygi), and then. into a less naive version of the old ian's way lmao.

there is no "that's how things are/go" or "that's how the world works" or "life is/isn't fair" or any fundamental human nature or any purpose or lack thereof to life or possible and impossible or likely and unlikely or anything else along any of those lines. there are only two types of things in the world: things that don't matter and mickey's next achievement. and that's that, baby!

and then eventually, mick finishes out at a relatively stable and sustainable realist-leaning optimism, heavily informed by romanticism of the Certain Things Are Meant To Be kind. like, he wouldn't necessarily express that or think of it in those terms. and he doesn't think it's a common thing, in fact it's rare and special and he's very lucky, and even if something is like that it still doesn't mean you don't have to put the work in for it to go well and end up Right. and he doesn't believe in a higher power or in Fate quite as such or in the will of the universe or a cosmic balance or anything like that really.

it's just, you know. sometimes. every now and then. there's just this one little thing that will continuously keep trying to happen without any heed to sense or logic or the incredible odds against it. just something in particular that will forever and always find a way to happen.

like say. for example. there's this gay kid, right? and he gets in this fight and he wins and he's about to bring down a tire iron and ruin this other idiot's pretty face and - for no discernible reason whatsoever - he just... doesn't. and maybe he'll think about it half a dozen years later and wonder why. that one tiny little thing that changed his whole fucking life, why did he do that? what was the reason? and there just. isn't one.

and that's not even all. see, these two dumbasses have no idea the other one is gay too, but some-fucking-how they don't have to say a word or even make any opening moves to just Know they want each other. it's like they read each other's fucking minds, even though he knows, he remembers, he didn't sense anything from ian. but for Some Fucking Reason he just never for a second considered ian wouldn't want him, and ian was in perfect time with him. and maybe he'll think back and try to find an explanation for this part too. was there some body language he read? was there some look in ian's eyes? but the answer is no every time.

and then after that, these two gay kids just can't be kept apart. they just can't. and it's not just that they inexplicably can't resist each other either. every time they're separated they find each other again, no matter what. even when they're the ones to separate themselves, situation after coincidence after happenstance after necessity keeps putting them in each other's orbits. secrecy and jealous exes and gun violence and imprisonment and infidelity and a fucking pathological fear of intimacy and conversion therapy and genuine threat to their lives and marriage to someone else and permanent life-altering illness can't break them up. at least not for long.

and then. somehow. SOME fucking how! after all that, and with the absolutely shit chances that they ever even hooked up in the first place, they actually fucking make it? they don't just get to be together, they get to be happy??

so no, he doesn't believe in god or destiny or soulmates or whatever the fuck. but at the same time, i mean. what other explanation is there?

[chiscaralight]

TITTIES DROPPIN’ !

he’s mesmerized by those mommy milkers !!

includes: nsfw! diluc, jing yuan, sukuna, welt x afab!reader(separately), pussy eating, tit fucking, dick sucking, cock warming, tit sucking, nipple piercings, size diff for all of them cus big men ! true form! sukuna, he has 2 cocks cus… yk. breeding kink!

a/n: this is part two to this, first time writing for all these i characters except diluc ! enjoyyyy and part three will come soon! i had to go do research on sukuna by reading like 50 works in one sitting and i wanted to capture him right 😭 i think i did kind of well there.

DILUC RAGVINDR.

diluc expresses his admiration for you in many ways, he's so wonderful! he's always making sure you're okay and reassuring you regardless of whether it is inside or outside the confines of your room. so when he approaches you so red in the face one day with a request he can barely cough out, you know you were in for a ride.

he has you on your back, expertly twirling his tongue into you. his rough fingers scissoring your tight hole. the band he usually uses to tie up his hair is pushed up on your wrist as you tangle your fingers in his soft locs. he's groaning as you grind down on his mouth, trying to hit your peak. he only lets you, latching his lips onto your swollen clit as you're writhing under him. your orgasm hits you as hard as it always does, he just knows your body all too well. when you're finally calm, his hands find your face. he asks if you're ready and you give him a small nod.

no matter how many times you come face to face- well, face to dick with him, you'll never get over it. your cheeks flush, his gaze is piercing as you take his thick cock in your mouth. you move slowly, letting the saliva in your mouth flow out. as much as you'd love to suck him off fully, that's not what you agreed to.

once you're certain he's fully slicked up, you pull off him and push your tits together. you kneel up and you push your chest out as he pushes himself in between them. his moan is airy and deep as he pulls out again. his hips are bucking up with short movements as you open your mouth to let more saliva fall onto his tip. the sight is so unholy, but it only pushes him harder, his little darling looking up at him like this. he could cum just from the sight of you alone, but he's trying to savor the moment just a bit longer. it's not long before he's shooting ropes of his cum all over you. you're already looking at him with those adorable eyes of yours and when he's looking back down, he can already feel himself hardening all over again.

JING YUAN.

being an arbiter-general was no easy feat. Jing yuan was always busy with whatever work it was he was doing. of course it wasn't his fault. a position like this would have its fair share of time-consuming tasks. it left a sour taste in both of your mouths, him often daydreaming about having you in his arms and you sitting at your window like a Victorian wife waiting for your husband to come back from the ever-raging war.

so when you hear your door open followed by the tired sigh leaving his lips, you're wrapping as much of your small body around his while he envelopes yours. you can feel the kiss he presses against the crown of your head and you tilt up so he can press another one to your pursed lips. you can feel the weight of his body as he leans onto yours. he’s so tired, so you give him an offer that will allow the both of you to relax.

you’re so full of his cock as you lay against his chest. you’re both naked, skin to skin as you just lay there basking in each other's warmth. the moment is short-lived when his phone starts ringing. he can only groan as he stretches over to get it. then he points it to you.

“it’s yanqing. tell him im not with you right now.”

you shakily pick up as you hear the younger boy's voice. you tell him that you’re the one on the line, but before you can deliver the rest of the message, jing yuan is pinning you down to the bed. yanqing’s voice raises the speakers, asking if you’re okay. you quickly brush it off, saying you dropped something while trying to bite back a moan. the way jing yuans tongue danced around your hardened nipples was dangerous. you’re trying to push him away, all while keeping the poor retainer on the line. he can barely make sense of the words you’re trying to push out, but your mind is hazy from the way he’d sucking and tugging at you’re sensitive buds. you quickly blurts out that jing yuan went out for a bit of air between pants and yanqing only leaves a message for the older man as you end the call. the devious offender even had the guts to laugh after putting you through something like that. the only response he has for you is a soft nibble to the hardened skin and you’re shivering all over. the reaction has him smiling on your skin, and you can only sigh and tangle your fingers into his hair as he goes to town on you.

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

you’re not even sure how many times anymore. sukuna had been bouncing you between his two cocks over and over again to ensure you were properly bred. after all, a lowly human like you should be thanking him for even considering yourself to aid him in carrying on his legacy. yet here you are, barely hanging on as he’s releasing into you again. he places one of his hands against the round of your belly and hums in satisfaction. he’s done his work well, and you’re bound to give him a child like this. but oh no, he’s nowhere near done with you. you try to protest, but his other pair of hands are already making their way towards your breasts.

he’s practically hissing at the sight as he tugs on the circular jewelry penetrating your nipples. what a fucking slut. piercing your body like this just to garner his attention? his mind had long been on you, so unnecessary things like this should have no effect on him. but he can’t deny that he can’t take his eyes off of them. his sharp nails are trailing around the metal as your body writhes once again. he orders you to keep still as he flicks up and down your buds to watch you for his own amusement. you’re so small, so sensitive and he just wants to break you over and over again.

so the next time he has you’re time, he’s gripping your tits once again. you’re in a kneeling position as he fucks into you from behind. you look so filthy like this and he makes sure you know it. he won’t tell you how much he’s enjoying that cool metal in the palm of his hands while he jiggles your breast as he plows into you.

BONUS.

this dumbass would totally motorboat you!! you’re trying to swat him away but you’re no match for the sheer will and determination he has to sink his face into your boobs. so when you do eventually give up, he laughs in victory! pressing your tits together once again to shove his head between them while making that stupid noise. you give him a nice slap to the back of his skull, but wrap your legs around his waist regardless. -tartaglia, sampo, gojo, heizou, venti, yuuji, itto, kaeya, your favs!

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

[moraxsthrone]

everyone talking about going hard with wrio - tying him up, him tying you up, punishing him, him punishing you, feral!wrio, etc. etc. and while that’s all well and good (i love that shit PLEASE) why aren’t we also talking about soft!wrio???

what about when you come to see him at work and he’s been having a bad day?

you arrive to find him sitting with his elbows on his desk, massaging his temples and he tells the guard that escorted you in not to let anyone in for the next hour. even the guards snicker outside his door, assuming the two of you are getting down to sexy business. to be fair, they're not wrong.

you’ve led wrio to the sofa before pouring him some freshly brewed tea.

“i’ll be fine, love. just need some time to clear my head,” he says, leaning back with his eyes closed.

“let me help, baby,” you say, giving him a soft, loving kiss on his cheek before sliding down onto your knees between his thick, muscular legs.

you massage his thighs, kneading some of the tension away as you work your way up. you look up at Wrio when a quiet groan forms in his throat to find him with his head laid back and forearm draped over his (probably) closed eyes and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. one of your hands ventures underneath his vested shirt to feel the heat of his hard abs and the coarseness of his thick, black happy trail. before long, his shape is apparent through his pants, semi already straining against the gray fabric. he looks down at you with those pretty blue eyes, so soft for you. watching as you unbuckle his belt and free his half-hard cock.

“damn, babe…this isn’t what i had in mind, but i’m not complaining…”

you smile up at him with a brief, cheeky laugh. “let me take care of you, wriothesley. just relax…”

and relax he does as you suck the stress right out of him. slow, long pulls on his engorged cock that’s almost too big to fit more than the tip in your mouth. your hand makes up the difference around his shaft, however, and it’s not long before he’s panting your name.

“fuck, babe…that’s it,” he whispers, his un-gloved fingers carding through your hair, gently petting you, admiring you as you take your time with him.

there’s still the occasional gag and near-constant wet sucking sounds but they’re unhurried, deliberate until his hips start to buck and his cock twitches in your mouth. wrio’s fingers tighten just a little in your hair as he spills himself inside your mouth, biting the back of his fist to keep from moaning too loudly.

once you’ve properly cleaned him up with your tongue, he tucks himself away and pulls you up into his strong arms. you straddle him and just…hug him.

“thank you, love,” he whispers next to your ear before pulling you down with him on the couch to join him for a nap.

or what about when he comes upstairs late at night to find you already asleep in bed?

wrio undresses himself before sliding in behind you, a gentle arm wrapping itself around your waist to pull you closer to him. you stir and he quietly apologizes for waking you up and urges you to go back to sleep, but you need him.

gods, you need him.

so you roll over and kiss him deeply, bidding him welcome as he rolls between your naked thighs. his thick cock reaches its full erection quickly with the way it glides over your slick folds. you remain locked in a long, tender kiss with him, breathing each other's air, warm tongues swirling. your arms wrap around his neck as he cradles your back, a mess of languid hips and quivering thighs when he enters you. you both moan in unison at the pressure, the stretch, the feeling of finally, finally being as close as you can possibly be at the end of a long day apart.

wrio stroking his thumb over your cheek, light as a feather, as you stare into those baby blues, so full of love and adoration for you, only you. your bodies moving together, slow and strong, as you profess your endless love for one another between quiet gasps and clipped moans. cupping wriothesley’s cheeks when he dips his forehead to your collarbone, his pace picking up slightly, but still fucking you with long, deep thrusts. his hot breath against your moist skin when you tell him to cum inside you, when you tell him you need him. moments later, his hips jerk erratically before stilling completely and you feel him throb against your walls, spending his thick, warm cum inside you. 

what about when he wakes up in the morning with you?

…holding you fast to him when you try to get up. and when you giggle and make a feeble attempt to struggle - “but wriothesley, i have to get ready for work~” - he holds you there, tighter, right where you belong, safe and warm with your head tucked perfectly against his chest. a small, mischievous smile plays at the corners of his lips but his eyes remain closed. “just a little while longer, love…” he slurs, his voice still heavy with sleep, “let me keep you all to myself just a little while longer…”

[luveline]

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

When Eddie asks you on a date, you don’t believe it. He probably meant as friends, right? Spoiler alert — Eddie wants to be more than friends, and he’s willing to prove it. [4k]

fluff, slight hurt/comfort, fem!reader, plus-sized!reader, reader feels undesirable, kissing, obligatory ‘don’t be cruel’ scene, eddie calls you pretty like ten times, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has one of those smiles that screams trouble. Every time he looks at you with that smile he might as well have "I'm gonna break your heart," written across his forehead in tandem. 

You sneak a glance at him across the atrium. Eddie’s paused bussing tables to talk to a patron, his customer service voice in play with a matching smile. It isn't the one you mean, but it's bad enough to make you flush red-hot. You cross your arms over the bar, regret it for its stickiness, and let your head rest against the crook of your elbow. 

You've been working together for a long time now, almost six months, and he's your favourite coworker hands down. He cleans up after himself, he brings snacks that you never accept (lest you look like the greedy chubby girl you worry everyone expects you to be), and he talks to you like a real person.

It's horrifying and it's not fair, but being fat means that sometimes guys don’t want to look at you. They don't want to be in the same room with you, and you can tell; they avert their eyes, or simply don't talk to you directly.

You've never had that feeling with Eddie. He meets your eyes, unflinching, and he sends you one of those pretty smiles and you think Fuck, because he should've been a movie star, he has the cheekbones for it, or a rockstar like that band he's always raving about. He'd have a slim LA girl on both arms, no doubt about it. 

He likely wouldn't waste his time with you. 

Not someone pretty as he is. Sometimes he'll lean over and expose the flat stretch of his stomach, his v-lines and the dark trail of hair peeking above his jeans, and you feel acutely miserable 'cause you know you'll never get to touch him. Workplace crushes suck. 

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks, a hand dropping against your shoulder. 

You pull yourself up quickly. Speak of the devil, Eddie stands beside you with his hair tied away from his face. He looks more entertained than concerned, his smile unfortunately genuine. 

"I'm fine," you say, stepping back. His hand falls away from your shoulder. "Sorry, just tired." 

Eddie leans into your space, squinting. You freeze up, but he's only checking the time on the clock behind you. "Gotta tough it out. Still an hour and a half 'til closing." 

Which means there's more than two hours of your shift left. Your face must show how unexciting that is —Eddie laughs, warm and quiet, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

"You'll live," he promises. "Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go get pizza or something." 

"What, nobody else is available?" you ask. 

His head juts back a touch, put upon shock. "And why can't I ask you? I like you and I like pizza, that's a good combination. And even if you don't like me that much, you like pizza, right?" 

You know —you know, you do— that Eddie doesn't mean it as a slight. This isn't some thinly veiled insult on how you look. Why wouldn't you like pizza? Most people do, but his comment twists itself into an evil inky ball in your chest anyways, thick and hot as tar. 

You shake it off. 

"Who says I don't like you?" you ask, steering the conversation away from food altogether. 

His smile gets somehow better, which is to say worse. You're being punished for something, a childhood wrongdoing or a future crime, perhaps. Nothing else could warrant the mental torture that is being so close to him while he looks the way he does. 

"Good. Good, then we should get pizza. It's a date," he says, nodding. 

Morgan the shift manager calls for him to stop distracting you, though the Hideout is abandoned tonight, and there's nothing to distract you from. Eddie stands at full height, with a soldier's salute. "Yes, sir. No more lollygagging." He turns to you when you laugh, and you share a secret smile. 

He and Morgan disappear into the back of house. If you strain your ears, you can hear Eddie complaining about having to keep his hair in a bun, as it's totally against what he stands for, dude, it's stifling his self expression. 

"Count yourself lucky I don't make you wear a hair net, kid," Morgan says.

You turn back to your sticky bar, numb. It's a date? Did he mean, like, an actual date? A romantic date? 

Not a chance in hell. It's a colloquialism. Nothing more. 

Despite yourself, you stare into the silver reflection of a beer tap and try to liven up. You fix your hair, check your teeth, dig a lip balm out of your apron pocket and scratch the corners of your mouth just in case. The entire time you're heckling yourself about delusions. Eddie Munson doesn't like you. He's had a girl come around once or twice, and she'd been everything you're not: slender, confident. You'd wanted to dislike her, but she hadn't done anything wrong. There's no crime in being desirable. 

For the remainder of the night, you man the bar and serve the occasional patron. It's a Sunday night, so most stick to light beer or soft drinks. The live entertainment says goodnight and the Hideout empties like an opened floodgate. You clean the bar, Eddie buses the tables, and the kitchen staff turn on the radio and get to work cleaning. Soon, you can smell cigarette smoke and reheated mozzarella sticks. 

You wander into the kitchen to help. 

"Hi beautiful," Leon says, one of the cooks, "you want something to eat?" 

"No she does not!" Eddie says, helping the dishwasher Marcie with her last round of plates. Suds drip down to his rolled sleeves as he waves his hands around. "We're going to get pizza." 

"Yes!" Marcie says, delighted. 

"Where are we going?" Paul asks, another cook. 

"We," Eddie says, pointing at you and then himself, "are going to Marletto's. Yeah?" 

You startle when you realise he's asking you. "Oh, sure. Anywhere you want." 

His head bobs up and down, pleased. He goes back to his dishes. "Anywhere I want," he murmurs to Marcie, though he's saying it for everybody to hear, "hear that, Marc? I'm spoiled." 

You wipe down a few counters, label some leftover iceberg lettuce and put it back in the fridge. It's easy work, made better by the camaraderie of your coworkers, but you can't settle down. Your heart races at what's to come. "It's a date," is starting to feel less colloquial now Eddie's dissuading the other from joining you. That's how that works, right? He wants to be alone with you.

It might not mean anything. Maybe Eddie needs something from you he doesn't want the others to know about, like money. Maybe he wants girl advice, finally chasing that pretty girl who drops by sometimes. Or boy advice —there's a guy who comes around too, tall and blond and handsome. 

There's a logical solution. Any other girl would hear the word date and take it at face value, but you aren't them. You're you. You can't remember the last time somebody looked at you with desire in their eyes, if they ever have. High school was a shit show and work isn't exactly a hub for romance. Eddie joining the team here is the most excitement you've ever had in your life, for all his gentle squeezes and teasing elbows, his inside jokes and his tendency to burst into an air guitar solo at any given moment. He's a cheeseball, and you like him. It sucks. 

"Hi, are you ready?" he asks, coming out of nowhere. You're kneeling down near the lockers tying your shoelaces. 

It is a horrible position for him to see you in. You can't imagine what you look like, but you know it won't be pretty. You spring up with your shoelace untied still and smile weakly. "Yeah, I'm ready." 

"You need help with that?" he asks, eyes on your shoe. 

You burn with embarrassment. "I– no, I–" 

Eddie kneels down on the floor and reaches for your shoe. He ties it quickly in a double-knotted bunny-loop and pats the side of your ankle when he's done. When he looks up at you, you're in the middle of hoping a natural disaster will occur and put you out of your misery. 

He smiles at you from his position. Does he ever stop? 

"Cool," he says, standing up. He grabs his coat from his locker and doesn't bother closing it. "Let's go! I'm starving, man, Leon needs to mess up more often so I can steal the rejects." 

You follow him in a daze. Through the lockers and out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the lingering closers and a grimacing Morgan. You aren't looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. You're more than sure he'll have something to say about workplace fraternising and general dawdling. 

"You okay for us to take the van?" he asks. 

Eddie's given you rides home before, and what felt awkward before has lended itself to a familiarity. You nod your agreement and cross the small parking lot out back, your breath rising in the cold night air. 

Eddie pulls open the passenger door of his van with a strong-armed tug. 

"Been meaning to get the latch looked at. I'd rather it have trouble opening than trouble closing, though, so that's a plus." 

He waits for you to climb the short step and sit before he closes the door. 

“All limbs inside the ride?" he asks. 

You laugh. It comes out weird. You kind of sound like you're being held at gunpoint. 

Eddie gets in the van and makes small talk as he starts the engine and pulls her out of the lot. Your mind isn't there, exactly, or rather it's too close. You want to think about your answers but instead you're worrying about how you look while you say them. You're worried about the seat belt around your stomach, and the way you look from the side. Being around Eddie makes you more self-conscious than usual. 

Marletto's isn't the best pizza place in Hawkins but it's open until three AM. You and Eddie take the first empty booth you come across, and the agony of ordering in front of someone else begins. 

"Meat feast for me, obviously," he says, pulling off his jacket. 

The cracked vinyl seat beneath him crunches with his movement. You dedicate yourself to staying still. 

"I'll get a margarita," you say, glancing between him and the menu for his reaction.  

"Didn't take you for such a bore," he teases. "Drinks? Sides?" 

"Just water will be fine." 

"Are you sure? I'm paying. If you wanna take advantage of me, now's the time."

You shake your head, pushing your cold hands under your thighs. 

Eddie frowns. "If you're sure…" 

He gets up to track down the register. You sit there, wondering why you agreed to this, what possessed you, why you could ever think this was a good idea. You don't wanna eat in front of him, you don't know what to say, he's looking at you like everything's normal but this is so not normal, this is the opposite side of the spectrum. 

Eddie returns with your water and a coke, all smiles despite your clear nerves. 

He puts the drinks down and clambers into the seat with a leg folded underneath himself, his elbows halfway across the table. He looks you straight in the face. 

"That guy just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm hungry, sue me. Three orders of mozzarella sticks is a normal human thing to get, right?" 

"Three?" you ask. 

His hand reaches toward you. If your hand were there, he'd likely squeeze it roughly as he sometimes does, like a playful scolding. "I'm hungry," he repeats. "I didn't get any lunch on my lunch break. What's the point in that? Just sat down in the locker room thinking about it. It was actually worse than working." 

"You should've had Leon make you a burger. He's always offering." 

"Always offering you, maybe. The rest of us gotta fend for ourselves." 

"That's not true. He asks Marcie, too." 

"Yeah, well, Leon's a sucker for pretty girls." 

You look down at the table. 

"I got enough fries for both of us, I know you didn't want any sides but everyone wants fries. I won't be sharing the mozzarella sticks, so if you want some you better speak now." He raps the table with his knuckles. When you look up, his face softens. "Well, alright. Maybe I'll share them with you. I'm a sucker, too." 

"What's that mean?" 

"What?" 

"You know what," you say. 

Eddie crosses his arms across the table. His hands and arms are pale, the ink of his black tattoos stark. You could draw them without prompting, that's how often you've fallen into his trap. When he crosses his arms like this, his biceps bulge up a little bit, emphasising the pretty curves and ridges of his arms and the hints of greeny-blue veins hiding under his skin. He tilts his head toward his shoulder, his limp curls dragging against the table. 

"It means…" he says, holding your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "that you're pretty. You're so pretty, I'd do anything you asked me to." 

You flinch. You pull your numb hands from under your thighs and cover your stomach with your forearms, glaring at the table between you thoughtlessly. 

"That's cruel." 

"What?" 

"That's cruel, Eddie. You're being mean," you mutter.

"I–" Eddie stammers. "What? I'm just trying to tell you how I think about you– how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it, I'm not trying to be mean." 

Hurt creeps into the lines of your face, your eyebrows pulled down and the starts pulled up, your lips pursed. Heat bursts in your throat as a molten lump takes shape there. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you have to. 

"I thought you were my friend," you say quietly. 

"I want to be more than that." 

"You're making fun of me." 

"No." 

Eddie reaches across the table again. There's nothing for him to grab so he spreads his fingers and presses his palm flat. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are ridiculously big, the black of his pupils blown and leaching into his dark irises until they're almost indistinguishable in the fuzzy lighting of the restaurant. 

"Come on," he says quietly, "when have I ever done that to you? I mess around, but I wouldn't say shit like that unless I meant it." His fingers lift off of the table. "I mean it. I think you're beautiful." His voice takes on a raw quality. 

You bite the tip of your tongue, fully frowning now. "I don't believe you," you say. 

"Why not?" he asks, frowning back. 

"Because I'm– I'm– I'm fat." You hate yourself for saying it out loud. 

People hate that word. Usually, if you admit to it, there's a rushed response. No, you're not. Pretty friends talk you down, loved ones wrap an arm around your shoulder and harp about puppy fat or big bones. 

Eddie doesn't do either. He sits back in his seat and smiles hesitantly. 

"Why's that a bad thing?" he asks. He shakes his head at himself. "I mean– I'm sorry, I should've said you aren't, you aren't–" 

"No, I am," you say. 

"You're so pretty," he says again, in a rush. "I don't care what size you are, I really don't. I just think you're beautiful and I wanted to ask you on a real date but I saw you and I couldn't wait anymore." He wraps his hand around the neck of his coke bottles and pulls it towards his chest. "Shit, I've made a huge fucking mess of it." 

You lean forward. Your body doesn't know what to do, the whiplash of hurt smothered by his enthusiastic, sincere compliments.

Why's that a bad thing? means more than anything else he said to you. 

"You really think I'm pretty?" you ask timidly. 

"Drop dead," he says. Hope flickers behind his eyes. "Morgan pulled me aside on my second week, you know that? Said if I didn't stop staring at you he'd put me in the back for the week." 

"He did put you in the back," you say, confused. 

"Exactly." 

Oh. You raise your head properly. Eddie's watching you, just you, obviously waiting for you to speak. The hope on his face is clear as day now, his lips parted, the tiniest peek of his tongue on display. 

"You promise you aren't messing with me?" you ask finally. 

"I promise." He holds his hand out, palm up. "I swear." 

Your heart a hummingbird, you take your hand from your waist and put it carefully in his. His fingers curl around yours like a prince, the tip of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly, half an inch at a time. You exhale out of your nose as goosebumps race up your arm. 

He looks like he has more to say, but the pizza and all his sides arrive. You spring apart like teenagers, blood rushing in your ears. The server unloads his tray.

"Alright guys," he says, looking down at you both with a knowing smile. "Anything else I can get you while I'm here?" 

Eddie sneaks a look at you that holds way too much meaning. "No, I think we're alright." 

There's a tiny, awkward silence. You busy yourself with unfolding a napkin over your lap, not sure what to say to bridge the gap. 

Eddie takes the plunge. 

He slides a basket of mozzarella sticks at you. "Pretty girl privileges," he says.

You feel insecure eating in front of him, but the sheer ferocity of his compliments discourages any shame. He thinks you're pretty. He held your hand like it was made of glass and he got put in Hideout jail for staring. 

"I think you're handsome, too," you say. 

Eddie almost chokes on a handful of fries. "Shit," he says, swallowing roughly, hand thumping at his chest. "Thank god for that. I mean, of course you do. My devilish good looks are hard to resist." 

He's not wrong. 

—

Getting put on kitchen duty isn't half as bad as Morgan seems to think it is. Eddie kind of likes it, the noise, the chaos, the heat. Plus, he can steal fries hot and fresh out of the basket. He's only burned himself once. 

"What're you in for?" Leon asks him.

"Staring." 

"You're a freak, Munson, you know that?" 

Eddie shrugs. "If your girlfriend looked like mine, you'd stare too." 

"Uh-huh." Leon grabs up a spatula to flip a burger, pink meat down and brown side up. Fat sizzles dangerously. Neither man flinches. "She ain't going nowhere." 

"You don't know that. Some rockstar might blaze through here and snap her up. Who would I be to stop her? She should be a trophy wife, she's a stunner." 

"Christ," Marcie says from across the room. 

"How the fuck can you hear us?" Eddie asks. Over the sound of the overhead spray and the sizzle of the burners, Marcie must have superpowers or something. 

"Uh, 'cause you're fucking yelling," she says. 

Eddie looks to Leon for some defence, but Leon agrees. "You are super loud." 

"You would be too–"

"If I had a girlfriend as pretty as yours," Leon says, audibly grouchy. "I know." 

"Don't be jealous that I got there first." 

"How is this fair? You get in trouble and I'm the one punished."��

Eddie blows a big breath out of the corner of his mouth, one of his shorter curls dancing away from his warm face. Ridiculous. They're all awful, and jealous, and nobody wants him to be happy. "Losers," he mumbles. 

He's kidding, mostly. He knows that everyone is actually very happy for the both of you. How could they not be? Eddie's happier than ever and you've turned to mush. It's his favourite thing in the world. 

He thought you were pretty before. These days, you're gold dust incarnate. You see him and smile like you've been waiting for him, no more nervousness (which, he found out, was down to a raging crush on him) (he walked on air for days), no more shying away from his touch. Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder and you don't tense; you melt. Butter in the sun. 

It's glorious. 

And sure, Eddie ends up in the brig a lot. He 'hovers' apparently. So what? He'll say it again, if any of these guys were in his shoes, they'd fall victim to the same compulsion. 

He waits for an opportunity to arise, four dinner tickets and a dishwasher disaster, and sneaks away as silently as he can manage, creeping out of the kitchen and to the bar. You're busy pouring a beer and don't notice him until the customer's left and he's wrapping an arm around your waist. 

"Eddie," you scold lightly, leaning forward to accommodate his weight against your back, "come on. You might actually lose your job." 

"They can't fire me. I'm the best bus boy ever." 

You turn your face to look at him. Eddie wants to put you on TV, you look that sweet. 

"No, you're awful, you," —Eddie interrupts you, leaning down for a quick chaste kiss— "distract me, and you," —he steals a second— "don't actually bus tables when you should," you finish, disjointed. 

He brings his hand to your soft cheek, stroking a badly behaved baby hair back into place. You go lax like he's some kind of quick fix drug, and your eyes contain a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He covers his heart with his hand. 

"You're awful," you murmur. 

He takes your face into both hands slowly. One cups your cheek, and the other slides behind your ear. He pulls your face forward and down toward his chin, his lips by your ear. You smell amazing. His eyes close on instinct.

"A little. It's not my fault. You're just–" 

"So pretty?" you ask. "Yeah, you've told me." 

"I have, have I? Have to let me tell you again." He kisses the skin before your ear, more a press of his lips than anything. "You're beautiful," he mouths. 

You shiver, but ultimately end up planting your hands against his chest and ushering him away from you. 

"Stop it. I mean it! We're in public, at work, and you're gonna mess me up." 

"I want to mess you up," he says easily. 

"I know you do." 

Eddie sighs, agonised, but heeds your warning. "Alright," he says, squeezing your shoulder in goodbye. You smile and squeeze his elbow in return. It's your new thing, silent conversation in fond touches. 

He's a couple of feet away when the urge to turn back is too much. He jogs back to your side, gets his hand behind your neck, and kisses you with enough pressure that your lips part underneath his in shock. He adores the side of your neck with his thumb one sweeping stroke at a time, his nose digging sliding against yours as he inches in further, and further. The dizzy pleasure of your lips can't be understated. Eddie fights back a kiss-ruining smile with all he's worth. 

"Sorry," he says, pulling back. Your lips shine and you blink, dazed. "Sorry," he says again, leaning in to kiss them dry. 

You laugh quietly, a breath against his cheek, and he's a goner, dropping pecks all over your pretty face until you're giggling and sinking into his arms. 

"I really am sorry." He punctuates with a kiss under your jaw. 

"No," you say breathlessly. Your hand twines loosely in his hair. "You're not." 

No, he isn't. He's never felt less sorry for anything in his life. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging, it helps more than you know!! <3 

[catboygretzky]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

2/?

📜 realexyblog

haiku because exy is back:

GOD, why are my teams

SO fucking bad at exy?

FUCK this FUCKING sport.

#and i watch sports for why? entertainment? no way

243 notes

♛ queen-of-exy

I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG! KEVIN DAY IS A QUEEN SHES LITERALLY A QUEEN ITS ON HER FACE

💃fox-me-up follow

queen on the court, pillow princess on the mattress amiright

♛ queen-of-exy

ive never felt more understood, I am kissing you w tongue

#marry me tumblr user fox me up

411 notes

🌞 blonde-jeremy-knox

i'm just gonna say it. i know we're all thinking it. jeremy knox eats ass like it's his JOB.

👁 jean-mor-uhoh

babe literally no one was thinking that but i'm proud of you for speaking your truth

#we're friends but what cost. when all u talk about is jeremy knox eating ass.

31 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

#dan wilds #psu

205 notes

🌄 softkevinday follow

He lived. He served cunt. He died. He was Resurrected. Served more cunt.

#kevin day

605 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

absolutely busted a fucking nut watching kevin day switch hands like that oh my god my nut was so forceful it created a new dimension.

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

hey can i join you in that dimension

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

Sure, just bring some snacks or something

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

hell yeah!!!!!!

#thanks youre the best do you like doritos?

197 notes

😎 foxyknoxy

the best exy team in the nation is a LIBERAL ARTS COLLEGE how many of those students even go to the games when your school is full of artists and theater kids. your student section must be wACK

😎 foxyknoxy

*sorry, 2nd best exy team in the nation

#fuck you theater kids!!!!!!!! can't even appreciate a good sport !!!!! anyway go trojans

99 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

Andrew Minyard should get a little bite and chew. As a reward. Maybe a small gnaw. nomnomnom Maaaaaybe as a treat he can rip a throat out, but only if he's really really good

#only if he's REALLY GOOD and maybe tests negative for rabies but whatever you can't win em all

126 notes

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

favourite exy rarepair????

☀️ usctrojanny

ACTUALLY !!!!! was thinking about this earlier and while ive never seen anyone talk about it.......aaron minyard and neil josten would be 👀 kinda cute???

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

omg wait why have I never thought about guys before!!!!!!!! noooo why did you say this, i can totally see it!!!!!! Neil would probably have to lean down to kiss aaron 🥺 do u think he has ever had to lean down to kiss someone 😭

☀️ usctrojanny

And obviously, u know me, im always here for a striker/backliner matchup

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

this is all i'm going to think about for the rest of my life now, thanks, fuck you

139 notes

👅 nastyneiljosten

I want to put neil josten in a jar and shake the jar so violently he turns into sludge and then pour a drop of that sludge on to a petri dish so I can see what kind of bacteria he produces.

🦩 exyonmymind follow

what happens to the rest of the sludge?

👅 nastyneiljosten

*sluuuuuuurp* *swallowing sounds* *sluuuurp* *gargle gargle* *more swallowing sounds* yummy yummy in my tummy

487 notes

🐋 sexyexy

headcannon that neil josten is so feral bc andrew bit him and gave him rabies so now he's a literal rabid dog

👢exyinaphonebooth follow

You can't make headcannons about real people don't be freaks

🐋 sexyexy

exy players aren't real they're my little dolls that I can put into any situations I want and you can't stop me

#thanks anyway did u know andrew minyard gave neil josten rabies

143 notes

🧸 mreow-bearcats-mreow

ARE THOSE REFS FUCKING BLIND ????????!

#exy lb

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

Kiss cams are only acceptable during sporting events if they zoom in on two players

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

ok but what if they're wearing a face mask

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

smash your cages together obviously, don't be a pussy #love wins

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

fair enough

890 notes

🌸 softexy

Andrew and Aaron Minyard

#exy #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #palmetto foxes #psu #web weave #poetry

2,040 notes

[essentiallyleaf]

day 19. rimming. with. haewon.

723 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, haewon is haewon, what else is there to say, rimming, handjob, writer is the moon knight meme in this one.

notes.

im out of (barely) good ideas and im panicking. fizzlingoutly, leaf.

You didn’t think it’d be so easy getting from Haewon’s overlip leaving pink-leaning-orange (she keeps insisting she’s a cool tone, but hm, is she really?) marks on her coke glass to the same lip imprints circling your butthole as she leaves wet kisses all around it. No, it was just a quick exchange, like she was choosing what to have for lunch at Subway.

“Wait, you’ve done this already, right?” You ask her, not without a little worry.

“Nah, have you?” She spits back casually.

“I thought you were the one who ate ass and wanted me to be your mate?! You know, mate in the, Brit sense, not in the… scientific sense.” That was more complicated than it needed to be.

“I dunno, I’m just tryna have fun.” She shrugs.

The correct answer, like in the Subway situation, is to not find yourself there, but if for some reason you do, might as well try to make the best of it. And the best of it, in this case, supposedly consists in Haewon’s hands keeping your thighs wide open as you lay on your back while her tongue takes a few short, explorative trips from your testicles, down to your perineum, applying a little pressure on it, and to the edge of your puckered hole. She brings her fingers up to your previously lubricated shaft to stroke it from time to time, but your groans when she does make them retreat immediately, reminding her that no, that’s not the main dish tonight.

It feels a little weird, having something touch you down there, but when that something has the soft, smooth texture, the expert dexterity and the cunning wit of Haewon’s tongue, well, then it’s probably Haewon’s tongue that’s when weird falls into the background to make space for pleasing, as testified by your whimpers, starting sparse and now becoming more and more frequent. That’s enough evidence for the girl to deduce that it’s time to go in, and when she does without any sign of warning, the only thing that can reasonably come out of your mouth, after a loud moan, that is, is a “Fuck you!”. That’s fair, she thinks, as she keeps attacking the inside of your cavern, and fair is the answer that you receive.

“That’s only gonna happen later, be patient”

Haewon starts circling all around the inner edge of your hole, making you bring a hand to your mouth to try to contain your own groans, or worse, screams. How does the joke bear get to this? How does she go from acting as the loser girl transferring schools in 7th grade for shits and giggles, to having you struggle to keep your shit together in your own bed because she wanted to, and this should be more or less the exact quote, “tongue-punch your bussy, you little boy bitch!”? Maybe sometimes it’s better not to ask. Other times, you don’t really have the physical capability to ask because your ‘friend’ (an umbrella term, but the most appropriate one to describe the two of you, you think; again, sometimes it’s better not to ask) is alternating between pumping her tongue deep in your asshole and wrapping her lips around its entrance to suck all the air out of it. Those times, the hand that was keeping your mouth closed becomes an object just like any other to bite onto, because now it would be screams. Those times, making the best of it is letting Haewon play with her toy and focusing on not letting the whole neighborhood know about it. Not supposedly anymore.

So when the final thrusts of her tongue hit you where it pleases the most, both of her hands back on your length and stroking, the only thing you can do is wail onto your own hand while you watch spurts upon spurts of white fly up in the air and back down on your abs, the muscles of your ass flexing repeatedly around her tongue. Lay your head back down onto the pillow and let yourself catch your breath again as you spread your arms open on the bed. Not even a minute, and she’s already taking her zip-up sweater and ripped blue jeans off and throwing them on the ground.

“Come on, fucker, what did you think the main dish was?”

-

footnotes.

maybe the formula is just sleep schedule plus work ethic, times effort. mathematically, leaf.

[ladykailitha]

Batshit Soulmates Part 2

Yay! More soulmates!!!

In this Eddie has nothing but time to think while Steve tries to outrun his problems and runs into new ones.

In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1|

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Eddie waited until he heard the sound the maroon BMW fade into the distance before he broke down and sobbed. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that his sheep were involved with whatever the hell happened to Chrissy or the fact that Vecna was real. He couldn’t have imagined finding your soulmate in a worse way then an actual fucking battefield.

Was Eddie surprised his soulmate was a boy? No. He had figured out pretty quick that it was all boys for him. Felt a little bad for Steve through, must have come as shock. Because let’s be fair, Eddie was pretty shocked, too. Of all the dudes in all the world, the universe picked the most diametrically opposed human on the fucking planet.

He didn’t hate Steve or anything. Steve tended to leave the Hellfire Club and its members alone and would stop Tommy and his ilk from harassing them, too. Which made more sense once Eddie had met Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. Those three never shut up about him really. To Dustin he was the old brother he always wanted. To Lucas he was a mentor. To Mike? Hilariously, when Mike was around Dustin and Lucas, he would roll his eyes and sigh dramatically whenever Steve was brought up.

When they weren’t around? Mike talked about the dude in hushed, reverent tones. Mike had an even bigger case of hero worship then the other two put together. But he was also a bitchy teen, so he hid it better then the others.

Eddie had scoffed at their depictions the first time he heard them, but the more they repeated it, the less it began to sound like they were telling tall tales, and more like they actually had a huge amount of respect for Steve. Which really didn’t gel well with the Munson Doctrine.

Jock=bad, rich=bad, popular with girls=bad, added all up together and you get a douche of the highest order. But even though Eddie had threatened to cut his throat Steve had still wanted to help him. Eddie wasn’t sure if their places were reversed that he wouldn’t have thrown Steve off and told him where to stick it. Soulmate or not.

But Steve had stayed. Either the man was a sap or maybe Dustin and them were right about him.

Eddie sighed. Well, he supposed only time would tell which one it was. As much as his inner cynic was screaming that Steve would give up. That he would learn that loving him was too hard and walk away. Leave Eddie to deal with murder charges and monsters. Another part of him was telling him that Steve wouldn’t do that. That Steve never back down from a fight no matter how much a losing battle it was. That loving Eddie was easier than fighting bullies and apparently monsters.

He knew realistically that Steve was a better soulmate then a lot of people got, but seriously whatever immortal asshole up there making the decisions had to have a sick sense of humor. The only things the two of them had in common was their height and their eye color and even that was slightly off. Oh all right, maybe their love three little freshmen dorks.

Protectors. Steve and him were both protectors. They had that too. Eddie could see it his eyes that he was more worried about Eddie would do the rest of them if Eddie actually went through with it. Not that he was going to. He had been trying to. He wanted to so bad. Steve stood in the place of all those people that had hurt Eddie his whole life. His dad. Bullies. Teachers.

Eddie was given an chance to become who they all thought he was. A murderer. He couldn’t tell if it was the look in Steve’s eyes that stayed his hand, or the burning on his arm, or if he just wasn’t built to kill. That he was more like his gentle Uncle Wayne then the violent Al Munson. Maybe it was combination of all three.

The sad (?) thing was, that Eddie could see himself next to Steve’s side. In fact it was too damn easy to imagine. He could feel the rightness of it, even if every other part of him scream at the injustice of it. The King and the Freak. But maybe that wasn’t what the universe saw. Maybe it saw two lonely boys that fit better than it looked on the surface.

After all, wasn’t that what Eddie himself had been preaching for years. That too many people only saw what they wanted to see and not dare to get to know people before making a judgment.

He preferred the easy charm of captain Steve Harrington over the hard nosed oneupmanship of Billy Hargrove and fierce competitiveness of Jason Carver any day. It was only after Steve’s fall from grace that he had even began targeting the basketball team in the first place. Both Billy and Jason would get mad and try and start something with Eddie.

Steve though? Steve would smirk and turn away. Like Eddie was funny and not a freak. And maybe Eddie targeted Steve just to see him smile and smirk. But the only people who knew that was him and Wayne. And he intended to keep it that way.

In fact, Eddie thought straightening up, the more he thought about how Steve actually acted in school the more he realized that Steve was actually a pretty chill dude.

Oh.

Maybe he needed to have a heart to heart with the universe about the Munson doctrine. Because if that was wrong, what else had Eddie gotten wrong?

His stomach growled. He bit his lip nervously and looked up at the house. He wasn’t sure if he could risk going up to the house again, not at night anyway. He was going to have to wait until tomorrow to see if he could at least make something to eat.

Maybe he should have asked them to bring something to do while he hid out. He was starting to get bored out his mind.

There was nothing for it, all Eddie could do right now is sleep and hope his soulmate was the natural caretaker all his sheep said he was.

He carefully rearranged the tarp so that it would be easy to pull back over him once he was in the boat and stepped gingerly into it. He got settled and pulled the tarp back over himself, letting the lapping water against the boat lull him to sleep.

*

Steve would like to say that the nap did him good and that he felt refreshed and ready to take on...what did Dustin and Eddie call him? Vickie? No, that was Robin’s crush. Vacuum? He snorted. Definitely not that. Evil wizard dude. He would like to say he felt refreshed to tackle the wizard dude, but the food he ate made him queasy and it made for a fitful sleep.

He opened his wallet and looked to see how much cash he had on hand. It should be enough to get Eddie some food and drink. Eddie had been fairing well enough, but he could use something a bit more substantial. He took out five bucks for gas and shoved it in his top drawer.

Steve looked at the time and groaned. It was too late to go to sleep, but too early to be awake. He shouldn’t have tried napping that late in the evening but this whole thing with the Upside Down being back, no Hopper, no El and even if they did have her, no powers. They had to rely on him. Well, Nancy mostly.

He would gladly relinquish control over to her, if he was being honest.

Steve pulled up his sleeve and rubbed the soulmark thoughtfully. It still glowed a dark sickening red, almost blood like it’s shade. It seemed to thrum beneath his skin like a melody he couldn’t quite make out. It comforted him. He just hoped it comforted Eddie, too.

He looked out at the dark sky that was hours away from dawn. He got changed into a pair of shirts and a swim team t-shirt. It was going to cold out there, but it wouldn���t matter for long. He changed his socks and pulled on a pair of running shoes.

He grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him. He stretched out on his front lawn in the putrid light of the street lamp. Once he was satisfied that he was warmed up enough not to pull a muscle, he started down the road. At first it was gentle lop, not quite a jog, but soon he was running as hard as he could toward the horizon, chasing a dream that he knew he would never be able to keep.

Steve ran until his lungs burned, his muscles ached, and his cheeks were flushed and sweaty from the exertion. He looked up to find that he had somehow ran all the way to the trail park. It had long since been cleared of police and looked more worn and depressing in their wake. Maybe it was the tragedy that clung to every rock of gravel, every concrete walkway, every panel and tin roof.

“Hey, loser,” Max said from her front step. “Can’t sleep either?”

Steve turned and panted, his hands on his knees as he fought for breath. “Yeah, yeah. What’s got you up before the asscrack of dawn? My excuse is that I’m a barely reformed jock.”

Max opened her mouth to answer but closed it again. She just shook her head. Steve turned to look at the roped off trailer that had been Eddie’s home, before he trotted over to her.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he asked in hushed tone.

Max nodded. She looked down at her worn out shoes, scuffing the side of her right one on the gravel in front of her. “I hate that you and me only found our soulmates because the Upside Down happened.”

Steve hummed in agreement. “I didn’t even think it would be a boy. Never even crossed my mind. Maybe if it had, I would have realized sooner that it was Eddie.”

The silence stretched on between them as around them the sky began to lighten and the trailer park came to life.

She picked at her nails. “I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“Lucas?” Steve asked, twisting his neck to try and get a better look at her.

She nodded again, refusing to look him in the eye. “I think bad things just happen around me. Maybe I’m cursed.”

Steve snorted. “This town is cursed. But it’s not good what happened to Chrissy. You know who would be able to figure this all out?”

“Nancy?” Max asked.

Steve ruffled her hair. “Right in one. But first I have a soulmate that needs food and I’ll be damned if I let him starve while on the lam for something he didn’t do.”

Max pushed at him. “Don’t say shit like ‘on the lam’, what are you fifty?”

Steve just shook his head. He got to his feet. “I’m going to go home and shower. Then I’ll pick up yesterday’s rogue gallery and we’ll go shopping. I’ve got enough to cover at least a couple of days worth of food for the guy.”

She nodded. “I am sorry, Steve, that he got dragged into this mess, but isn’t it better that he knows? Because then you don’t have to lie to him?”

He sighed. “Is better that he knows? Sure. But it’s not good.”

Max scoffed. “Nothing in this town ever is.”

Ain’t that the truth, Steve thought bitterly. He just waved his hand at her and started back down the road, back to Loch Nora.

****

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @oxidantdreamboat @mogami13 @samsoble @xandriumbat @ellietheasexylibrarian

[starlemonbunki]

Ranpo loves praise♡

Bottom!RANPO X Top!Fem!READER

| Praise kink, use of "Mommy" and "Baby", submissive Ranpo, creampie |

Ranpo loves praise.

It's so cute seeing a man who seemed so sure of himself be absolutely ruined just by a couple kind words.

Just a little compliment here and there, and Ranpo was putty in your hands.

It was dark that night, the only light coming from the moon itself as it danced its way in through the window. It crept up the floorboards until it reached the two of you.

Ranpo was deep inside of you, fucking you slowly and desperately. He knelt between your legs, his grip loosening and hardening against your thighs, keeping them apart lazily. His eyes were barely open, and in the darkness you saw only bright green slits staring back at you, awaiting your approval.

"Such a good boy, Ranpo, dear..." you cooed, finding the tired rhythm of his movements sweet and cute. He was such a baby, your baby after all. All he wanted all day was your pussy, especially after you'd been teasing him all day with those thigh highs that cupped the fat on your legs beautifully. Several times throughout the day, he thought he was going to cum on the spot everytime you leaned over to hand him some paperwork, or gently caressed your thighs knowing he was watching, or simply walking past, allowing your sweet aroma to fill his nose and in turn his dirty thoughts. But he made it, he was good, and he went the whole day without cumming or jerking off. That deserved a reward.

"Ahn, ah, M-Mommy..." He whined, his approval battery suddenly drained so quickly, desperately asking for more of your delicious praise.

"Yes, Baby?" You asked, as if you didn't already know what he wanted.

"M-Mommy, am-am I doing g-good?" He asked as he tried thrusting into you faster, hoping to please you more. Silly boy, just the thought of him not being enough for you was torture for him. He needed validation, he needed your praise.

"Yes, dear, you're doing so good..." you cupped his cheek with your hand, caressing him lovingly. "So good for me, such a good boy..."

"M-Ma...Mommy...." He moaned, slowly reaching his limit.

That's when you decided to bring in the big guns.

"Such a good boy, Ranpo, fucking me so well. So good for me, so good for Mommy...." you added a couple moans here and there, making sure your voice was as sultry as possible, knowing it made Ranpo go crazy.

His hips started stuttering and his grip on your thighs tightened. "M-Mom-Mommy!! Hah, hah...Mommy!!" He whimpered as he slowly reached his release.

That's when you started tingling all over, his cock reaching your sweet spot more and in a faster pace, you held onto his back to keep him close as you both came together.

Ranpo was breathing heavily now, thrusting in slowly, just once or twice, savoring what was left of that feeling, before slowly pulling out with a grunt.

He looked beneath him to find your pretty little pussy, liquids shining in the moonlight like wet little stars. His cum spilled out of you, overfilling your hole nicely. You put on your panties and let down the nightshirt that had been previously pulled up above your breasts, pulling your beloved into a sweet goodnight kiss.

Ranpo finally caught his breath within your mouth. "Please," He pleaded. "One more?"

"No, no, we have work in the morning, remember?" You said, watching him pout like a spoiled little child, it was so cute to see.

"Reeaaally?" He asked again as you pulled him into the covers. "Yes, really, now go to bed, Kunikida-san will yell at you for making us late."

"Why would it be my fault?!" He whined.

"Cause I'm blaming you, of course!" You teased. "Plus, I'm the one who has to shovel cum out of my pussy and take a pill tomorrow, it's only fair."

"Fine." He pouted, getting under the covers to go to sleep.

"But I know you're just doing this just so I'll be extra horny tomorrow."

"Ah, so I guess you don't need those glasses to deduct me."

"Of course! I'm the greatest detective, you know!"

"Of course dear. Goodnight."

"Hmmph. Goodnight."

As Ranpo slowly fell deeper into his sleep, you caressed him, twisting and twirling his black hair around your fingers as you silently read your book.

Ranpo sure does love praise.

[bahrtofane]

i dont want to leave

-----

When Jude finds himself slipping from your life. He chooses to leave it completely, for your sake. 

Jude x reader 

Word count - 700+

Watch it - angst angst and angst 

-----

Judes first appearance to your modest little apartment in months turns into him begging and pleading for you to find someone better. 

Someone who doesn't make you wait all day for a reply, someone who isnt in 3 time zones in one day, someone who has time.

Jude has many things, many luxuries and commodities that fill his home and surround his daily life. Fame and fortune that follow him, recognition. Riches.  

Time is not one of them. between games just about every other day, events and press appearances, media days and content recording. He is exhausting every second of his day.

He knows he's not making enough time for you. And now he's begging for you to move on  

Sitting cross legged on your couch, in red and black plaid pj pants and a hoodie he grabbed from his hamper. He made his way to you as soon as he could. Even if it meant after doing a virtual interview from his room, he grabbed his wallet and keys, sprinting out the door.

“Please…” he tries again. His eyes droop and he can not pick them up to face you. Can not meet your gaze. His eye bags look horrid and his skin is taking on a sickly sheen you saw last when he came down with the flu. 

You shake your head, “Jude. listen to what you're saying. You want me to leave because you're busy?”

“I'm saying I'm not good to or for you. I'm never around. I barely reply. I forget things. I never know what you're up to or what's going on. Im shit. And you don't deserve that.” he tries again, keeping his head down and picking at his nails. 

“But I love you. Busy or not.” you sigh.

“And I love you. So much that you have to let me go.” 

“I don't want to leave you,” you cross your arms.

He rubs his eyes. Its been back and forth like this for what feels like an hour now. This will get nowhere if he simply lets this continue. 

He slides a leg from under him, swinging it against your couch, “then I will.”

Your face morphs into one of pain, but he knows you can't keep living like this. He can't keep making false promises and hurting you. No matter how many times you say it's okay. He was late to your birthday for fucks sake. He doesn't know your friends names, do you even still watch that show? He's losing who you are and it's no one's fault but his own. 

He scoots to you, gently taking your hands in his, “I know you'll find someone who treats you the way you need. And I'm sorry I couldn't.”

Tears begin to swell in your eyes, lip trembling as you shake your head, “you can't,” you cry out weakly. But it's too late. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, getting up from his seat and gently closing the door behind him, with a little too much force than intended.

The little framed picture of the two of you that hangs on the wall next to the door shakes and wobbles. It only makes you cry harder. 

You remember that day. He took you to the fair, buying you all the stupid food you could ever want. (the deep fried ice cream gave you a run for your money in the bathroom). He won every prize at those silly games. Even if it took him 50 tries and a whole lotta cash to do so. 

There was a little man walking around with a polaroid camera. A sign reading “$2 for a picture” painted in bright green lettering hanging from an old withered string around his neck.

You took 4. 

Your favorite, the one on the wall, stares back at you mockingly. Hands held together while your heads are thrown back, soft yellow and pink light from the ferris wheel behind you painting your faces. You'll need to take that down you suppose.

You want to scream, but instead only tears fall. Can he see he's the one that's meant for you? Busy or not, forgetful, tired, moody, cranky. You love him through it all. Can he see that?

You try to call him, blinking away the tears as you fish your phone from your pocket.  Pressing on the screen harshly and putting it on speaker, but they all go to voicemail. You suppose that's that.

His first visit in months. And he's never coming back. 

[garciaasfluffypen]

the suit stays on (we're feral for you)

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 2.5k warnings: SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS DNI. (we’re operating under the assumption that y’all have fucked or at least seen each other in various states of undress prior to being in an established polycule), toy usage, fingering (reader recieving), female terms of endearment -- "our girl", mentions of mental abuse/belittling in previous relationships request from this ask a/n: i have no clue if this stayed on prompt or not but its here and its all i could think about while i was at work today

gods, you looked good in a suit. 

you adjusted the jacket that tara had helped you pick out for the upteenth time, smoothing invisible wrinkles off the dark maroon fabric as you made your way to the door of the bedroom. well, technically it had become your shared office, but you knew your favorite women barely looked into the closet in this room unless there was a gala they had to go to. it was the perfect hiding spot. you ran into their bedroom real fast, hearing emily humming to herself in the bathroom as you went over to the bag you had brought over to grab your black pumps. you rarely wore them, but you figured since rossi was paying for emily to treat you and jj to an anniversary celebration it was only fair that you pulled them out. 

while it wasn’t jj and emily’s anniversary (considering they had been together for years and married before you came along) it had been five months to the day that they had asked you to officially join them, to be more than just a friend and a confidant. to be their girlfriend. sure, it had scared you, but now it was second nature. you had fit into their relationship like a hand sliding into a glove. it was so easy for you to find your place with them. they made sure you felt comfortable from the beginning- separating work from pleasure, each taking you out on separate date nights at least once every other week and a trio date twice a week. making sure to remind you every day that you were loved and appreciated. to let you know it was okay to not mask your stims or feelings- they were always making sure you felt safe. none of your previous exes did that, always belittling you when you would stim in public or forget to take your medication. but with emily and jj? it was easy. 

loving them was easy.

your feet slid into the pumps with ease, welcoming the extra few inches they added to your height. with a smile, you went over to the front door to scan the checklist jj had put up for you, reading it over. keys, check. wallet, check. badge, not necessarily needed but you had it in your wallet just in case. meds, which were only a morning thing, not including your magnesium that you took at six pm each day. you didn’t need to take them unless you forgot them, but jj and emily had been good at making sure you had taken them whenever you were over. the adhd brain fog you got when you don’t take your meds was rough, you’d hate for it to show up in front of them. 

“baby are you--” jj stopped in her tracks as she looked you up and down, her jaw dropping slightly. 

“do i look okay? i don’t, i knew the suit was a bad idea, i’ll go--”

jj grabbed your hand, turning you to face her. “absolutely not. you look….” 

“beautiful.” emily joined you two by the front door, slipping an arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “the word she’s looking for is beautiful.” 

emily had put on a pair of slacks and a fancy blouse, one that she had most likely gotten from her mother at some point. you didn’t know much about ambassador prentiss, but you knew she almost always sent emily stuff that she barely wore. most of those clothing items hung in the guest room closet. jj wore a baby blue sleeveless top with black jeans, her hair falling down behind her in those beach waves that you loved and adored. you had no idea what they had planned for tonight, but all you knew was that they looked hot and you were in fact, very in love with your girlfriends. even if you couldn’t find the words to say it to them yet. 

“where’d you get the suit?” 

“uh, tara took me shopping the other day. when she heard about the date.” you swallowed nervously. “i hope thats okay.” 

jj stepped closer. “you should buy more suits. i can’t even put into words how hot you look right now.” 

you blushed. “are you sure i’m not overdressed?” you moved to take the jacket off. 

“absolutely not.” emily gave you a stern look. “the suit stays on.” 

“you’re not overdressed at all, lovey.” jj squeezed your hand. “you look amazing.”

“are you sure?”

“i promise.” she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “we got reservations at fiola, that italian place you wanted to try. you’re perfectly dressed.” 

the glint in emily’s eyes pointed to other undertones, but you kept your mouth shut. better to not start anything in case you were reading the situation wrong. you let them lead you to the car, making sure you were buckled in before heading out. jj leaned forward to rest her hand at the crook of your elbow, keeping light conversation with you so you didn’t get lost in your thoughts. the two women knew that you didn’t do the best with plans you didn’t know everything about, so they made sure to keep you in the loop as much as they could. granted, they didn’t even know the restaurant they were going to until this morning, but they told you what they were doing as they were doing it. it was a nice change, especially since in the past you would have to deal with your exes just scooping you up and taking you places without asking for your input. 

you enjoyed the meal, despite feeling out of place. rossi had made sure to get you a secluded corner booth, far away from everyone so you could make the most of your night together. after dinner, emily and jj took you for a walk through the georgetown waterfront park while you awed at the sights. they knew you would love it, since you always found beauty in small things like this. it was rare that you let your guard down like this, but they knew you trusted them enough to do so. even if these nights were far and few between, seeing you be your true self was something they adored deeply. to end the night, the three of you got ice cream at a little local shop before heading back to the apartment. 

minutes within getting inside, you kicked your heels off and went to take your jacket off, only to be stopped by a set of hands. emily walked in front of you, silently telling you to let her take care of it. jj had momentarily disappeared, and you searched for her as emily took your jacket off with care. it was folded neatly on the back of the couch before she ran her hands lightly over your arms again, stopping to hold your hands. you searched her eyes, attempting to figure out what your women had planned for you.

“how are you feeling, y/n?” her voice was low and husky. “are you up for more? if you’re not, you can tell us.”

“can we do whatever it is with jj?” 

“of course, lovey. she should be in the bedroom, do you care to join us?”  

you silently nodded, letting emily guide you to the bedroom. as she opened the door, you saw your favorite candles lit on either side table, with jj leaning up against the wall as she waited. her eyes practically lit up as she saw you and emily walk in, stepping over to you. 

“if you’d rather just curl up in bed, say the word and we can do that, okay?” jj gave you a smile. 

“okay. but what are we…”

your voice trailed off as you started to notice that jj had changed into a satin robe, one that she only took out for special occasions. you remembered buying it with her years ago, when penelope had invited you to girls night as a way to introduce you to emily before she had gotten with jj. before you had been asked to join the BAU, even. your hand ghosted over the satin fabric, subconsciously finding the string and fidgeting with it. your head fell to jj’s shoulder, slowly shuffling closer to her. 

“we couldn’t help but wish we could have you all night,” jj started. “you’re just so hot and all we could think about was you. we're feral for you." jj paused, looking at you. "is this okay?”

you nod. “more than okay.” 

“you’re in control, tonight is about you. you want us to stop, you tell us.” 

a noise fell from your lips. “mm”

“i need words, y/n.” 

“yes.” 

within seconds, jj’s hands started exploring your body, waiting for you to initiate a kiss. you leaned in, your hands wrapping around jj’s midsection and pulling her close to you as possible. emily came up behind you, her hands moving around your waist and starting to kiss your neck. your head fell back, giving both women full access to you. slowly but surely you feel yourself being taken to the bed, emily sitting down behind you and letting you lean against her knees. jj slowly started to undress you, taking her time and practically worshiping your body. emily placed kisses down your back, her hands exploring your upper body. they were taking care of you, taking their time and letting you know how much you truly meant to them. your hands found their way to the tie on jj’s robe again, un-tying it and pushing the fabric off her shoulders. with a swift movement, jj moved you so you were on the bed, emily shuffling to give jj room to adjust everything before continuing. you grabbed at emily, pulling her close and giving her a kiss while starting to unbutton her blouse, being sure to be careful. even if she didn’t care about it, it felt expensive and not worth ruining. 

emily helped you push her blouse off her shoulders before laying down next to you, the red of her victoria’s secret bra a stark contrast from her porcelain skin. you found your way to her breasts, kneading one with one hand while you pestered kisses all over the other one. emily’s hand made it's way into your hair, the other gripping the side of your arm lightly. moans fell from emily as you switched breasts, repeating the same process. as you did so, your free hand went down to your center, which was hot with need as your girlfriends took care of you. she slowly pushed you back onto the bed, pushing the hair out of your face and trailing her hand down to your jaw, turning your face to look at her. emily shifted so she could turn your head and envelop you in a kiss. as you kissed, her hand went to replace the one hovering over your center, easily slipping two fingers in with a smirk on your face as you moaned out. your head fell into the crook of emily’s neck, biting and nipping at the skin in an attempt to leave a semblance of a mark. 

“emmy… emmy please.” 

emily’s free hand grabbed your hip, holding you in place as you tried to move your hips. she was teasing the hell out of you, knowing you all too well. you mewed out as emily’s fingers slowed, the high you were chasing fading away. a pout flew over your features as you clawed at emily’s shoulders, silently pleading with her to continue. you finally regained movement of your hips as emily’s hand loosened, letting you find that high again at your own pace. noises fell from your lips as fireworks exploded all around you, the skin of emily’s shoulder becoming victim to yet another set of bite marks as you worked through your high. 

a blush crept up on your cheeks as you remembered jj had been there the whole time, now noticing the baby blue strap now situated over her hips. jj placed a hand on emily’s back and stood next to her, looking over to you to ensure you wanted to continue. you nodded, pulling jj closer so you could grab the strap. jj lightly moved your head to the strap, holding her hand at the back of your head while emily positioned herself behind you, her hands going to knead your breasts as you sucked jj off. 

“do you need more, y/n?” you nodded. “words.”

“yes. more.” 

 “so beautiful,” she placed a kiss on your cheek, then your neck. “our girl.” 

“what does our girl need?” emily looked at you.

“more, please.” 

you clawed at jj who pushed you down on the bed, hovering over your entrance as you nodded again as a signal for her to continue. slowly she pushed the strap into you, her hands going to hold you in place as she bottomed out. a moan of pleasure left your lips as she sat there for a second, waiting for you to adjust before she started pumping in and out. your hand reached for emily and went straight to her center, finding her clit and starting to rub. 

“look at you, taking me so well. laying there and taking me like a good girl should.” jj pressed into your hips. “getting emmy off while i fuck you so good, huh?” 

your free hand gripped at the sheets. “oh, oh fu--”

“yeah? jayje is so good to you, huh?” you nodded. “tell me, use your words.”

“so good, jay, so-- fuck-!” 

emily came to a climax first, with you following closely behind. jj smirked as the two of you rode your climaxes out together, both of you moaning out in tandem. as your high faded away, leaving you breathless on the bed, jj’s hips starting to stutter as her own climax hit her. emily slowly pushed your hand away from her and watched you through hooded eyes as you whined at the sudden emptiness you felt below. jj fell on the bed next to you, pulling you as close to you as she could before emily joined the two of you. 

“was that okay, y/n?” 

you covered your eyes and let out a breathy laugh. “how are you so good at that?” 

“at what?” jj smirked. 

“oh shut up,” you playfully nudged her shoulder. “you know what i’m talking about.” 

“what can i say, the best of me comes out when i’m with you. the both of you.” 

you couldn’t help but blush. “really?”

“really. we wouldn’t have asked you to be ours if we didn’t both adore the hell out of you.” 

emily wrapped her arm around your midsection. “you mean the world to us, y/n. truly. we’d do anything for you.” 

it felt as if your heart grew three sizes in that moment. you snuggled further into emily and pulled jj close, inhaling the subtle scent of sea salt from her shampoo. you closed your eyes and let the two women draw patterns over your skin, relishing in the moment before ultimately one of them got up to get a washcloth. your eyes started to slowly shut, the warmth of your girlfriends bodies engulfing you in a hug. 

you could get used to this. 

and maybe… maybe you were almost ready to say those three words.  almost.

[pendarling]

List

• Part 2 > End >>

The villains in the city thought it would be hilarious to rank every hero by the level of beauty.

That’s right.

Not by skill or power, intelligence, speed, or strength at all, but beauty.

First place obviously went to Charisma. Their hero name was literally Charisma. There wasn’t anything more blatantly attractive than that. To top it off, Charisma was naturally photogenetic. Every angle captured of them was another magazine cover. Everyone downtown knew Charisma was certainly God’s favourite creation.

‘Fair enough.’ Hero thought as they stared at the screen in front of them. Their computer hummed quietly as they looked into the comments of civilians discussing their thoughts on the subject as well.

[I fucking love Charisma.]

[Congrats on first place!!😍]

[My favourite hero]

Moving on to the next one was Saturn Dust. Another gorgeous and close second place; it seemed like the villains knew what they were doing. They must’ve taken weeks or even months to prepare a list this detailed. Below each hero was a rating out of five for their other attributes like fighting style and general costume design. Saturn Dust even had a cute catchphrase, which earned them extra marks.

Hero shook their head grimly, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Yet, all Hero was interested in was finding their position on the list. Their eyes wandered as the page scrolled for what seemed like forever.

Were they really that bad?

Before they could fully comprehend it, they’d reached the end of the page. Surely, they must’ve missed it.

Again, Hero scrolled up the page. Eyes now focused and leaning forward on their chair. Their finger paused every few seconds to count the numbers beside each name.

“43, 44, 45, 46…”

However, nothing came about. Bewildered, Hero rubbed their eyes and looked around at their empty apartment. The window let in a cool breeze from the night. Maybe they were tired, but the aching feeling of being forgotten was too painful.

Their fingers tapped on the keyboard.

Ctrl+F

A search bar popped up on the top right corner of the page. Hero quickly typed in their name, desperation getting to them.

Two results appeared, and they hurriedly pressed enter. The first that appeared was a comment mentioning them, equally as baffled at where Hero belonged on the list—the second displayed a small note underneath hero #33, citing Hero as a close friend but nothing more.

Frustration clawed at them after being left out. How hard was it for those villains to give up some recognition here? Should they throw fireworks next time? Or was someone purposely messing with them?

Hero crossed their arms as they thought about their next step. It was impossible that they could’ve gone so unnoticed for this long. Their contributions weren’t like the others, but it wasn’t as if they didn’t do anything at all.

Looking at the page in its entirety, Hero noticed a small grey font underneath the title page.

Each hero listed was ranked based on villains who fought them in battle. This meant all information was first-hand account to keep it as accurate as possible.

Hero slapped their forehead.

It made so much more sense now. Hero only ever fought Villain. They never or hardly ever interacted with the rest of the villains in the city as frequently as they ran into Villain.

They pressed their lips together.

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” They grumbled. Unlike them, Villain did fight multiple heroes at a time. Why would they purposely leave them out? Unless they forgot about them.

Their stomach turned as an aching grew within them. There’s no way Villain could’ve forgotten them but given so much valuable input to the other heroes. Hero scratched their head and glanced at the clock, their thoughts tumbling out of them by the second in search of answers. Then again, they could’ve just never approached the list and dismissed it entirely. It’s not like Villain was the only one asked for their opinion.

Hero tapped their foot, their eyes still blankly staring at the computer screen and then back at the clock. The depths of their consciousness begged them to go out and make a fuss to catch some attention. The other half of their mind demanded that they quit immediately. If not even their enemy could notice them, they might as well not participate at all.

They sighed and shut down the computer.

All this nonsense was getting to their head. It was best to be left in the dark about it anyway. What was that saying again?

Ignorance is bliss.

Hero settled into bed and tucked themselves in. Their eyes closed. ‘Besides, what am I even going to confront Villain with? You don’t think I’m attractive enough to get on the list?’ Hero blushed. Maybe they wouldn’t say it like that. Or— did Villain find them attractive?

Their memories passed them in their past interactions. Hero’s face grew warm. What if Villain was very protective of them and didn’t appreciate the chances Hero might have at getting admirers? What if they got jealous easily?

No. That’s all too ridiculous. Realistically, Villain was unlike that at all. They were manipulative and sadistic. That’s why they had those underlings of theirs always kissing at their feet. Hero frowned as their brows furrowed. No one as self-centred as them could care about some low-level hero.

That didn’t matter to them, though, because Hero didn’t need this. It was below them. A stupid list running around the internet wouldn’t affect them for life. If anything, it was pathetic that anyone would want to be on there. They should be happy that it didn’t get to them.

For about 20 minutes, the reassurance did the trick, but even Hero couldn’t be fooled for too long.

They shot up in bed, fist slamming onto the headboard, “Dammit! Why aren’t I on that list!?”

~~~

MASTERLIST

•

Part 2 >

End >>

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Don't Be a Sweat

Pairing: Gamer Yunho x Gamer Fem Reader

Genre: Smut & Fluff

Warnings: Sub Yunho, dom reader, fem reader and parts but no fem names, cum eating, exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe pls), cursing, if its anything I missed pls let me know.

Word count: 4.8K (one day I'll get past 4k lol)

A/N: First sub Fic, I think I did an okay job but let me know if you like it!

Minors dni

Smut under the cut

The door to your best friend’s room opens and you and her walk into it, you both plop down on her bed tired from a long day of socializing. You both decided to do attend a "group date" that the designated match maker of your friend group set up. 3 hours of karaoke with the lamest guys you think you've ever met it was so dreadful and boring, you would have much rather been home streaming yourself playing overwatch or the new PSN free games of the month.

"I know what you're thinking Y/N." Your best friend turned to you and said,

"And what am I think little Ms. Mind reader."

"You're thinking "God those guys sucked I bet they couldn't even beat me in a 1v1 on Minecraft." or something like that." you both laughed.

"Good effort but you can't 1v1 on Minecraft there is no fighting on it, Minecraft is-"

"Ah- spare me the nerdy details I hear enough gamer bullshit with my brother. Anyway, what the hell was she thinking setting us up with that pack of losers of the year." She laughs and shakes her head.

"Oh god did you hear the one ranting about all women wanting money." you joined her in her laughing.

"If you're gonna ask me my income you're gonna need to cook and clean blah blah blah go live in the fucking 50s then! Oh, and the one that hounded you when you told him that you're a streamer."

"I bet I could beat you at this! I bet you've never heard of this! Like gag me, literally."

You two started laughing louder at your impressions of the men, they truly were just that pathetic, but to you, every man was.

Being a streamer, you run into your fair share of overly misogynistic incels that hate you just because you like games and have a vagina but in reality they would crumble at your feet if they ever saw you. Hot women that play games make men angry for some reason and you wanted nothing more than to break them down . Beating them after they whine about how you're a terrible and only popular because you're pretty, always made you smile. It was kind of a sick enjoyment you got out of beating them but who care, sweats get no sympathy from you.

Speaking of sweats as you and your best friend were enjoying having a laugh you suddenly heard loud knocking on the door. Your best friend rolled her eyes.

"Ugh What!" she knew exactly who it was.

The bedroom door swung open and in walked your best friends twin brother Yunho. Yunho was also a gamer like you, very tall and handsome but you two have never seen eye to eye. Ever since the day you became friends with BF/N Yunho terrorize you. Calling you names,  embarrassing you in front of guys, making fun of your hair and outfits and just being an all-around bully. Eventually feelings became mutual, and you only put yourself around him to hang out with your friend but other then that you and Yunho couldn’t even have a conversation with out arguing.

“Can you guys shut the fuck up already? I’m trying to play squads with the guys, and they can barely hear me over you two.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever they will live.” Your best friend said while trying to wave her brother off.

You let out another giggle “You guys can barely shoot straight I’m sure we aren’t the reason you guys are losing, y’all just suck.”

You and BF/N started laughing together again as she slapped your shoulder.

“Ohhh Y/N maybe we should invite Yunhos friends over they are actually kinda hot and a few game like you, you’ll really like the really hot one uhm what’s his name- oh San!”

“Ooouuu, he sounds sexy, maybe we should invite them over.”

“As fucking if, my friends would never date a chick like Y/N.” Yunho rolled his eyes.

“And what the hell kinda chick am I Yunho.” You folded your arms and tilted your head ready to pop off at him.

“The kinda chick who can’t keep a guy even if he was locked in her basement because no one wants her ugly ass.”

“Now I’m ugly? Well, who dyed their hair Blonde just to get a girl that ended up fucking everyone BUT you.”

His ears and face turned red in embarrassment.

“Sis, you told her about that?”

“Yuyu, I had too, I wanted her to feel bad so you guys could talk, and you could finally tell her you like her.”

Boy if his face wasn’t red then it sure was red now, he even tried wiping the embarrassment off.

“What !? As if I would like some girl that spends all her time gaming and talking shit online like a fucking loser. I’d never date someone like her!”

“Good cause it’ll never fucking happen, maybe I should do what BF/N said and fuck your friend just to piss you off!” You stood up at this point, who the hell does he think he is calling you a loser.

“Fuck you Y/N!” He yelled before walking out and slamming the door, thank God Yunho and BF/N moved out and into their shared apartment so their parents didn’t hear the argument.

You plopped back down on the bed.

“God what the fuck is his problem? It’s like he hates my guts for no reason.”

“It’s just like I said Y/N, the boy likes you.” She yawned and stood up to change into her sleeping clothes.

“What? BF/N be serious here.”

She finished getting ready for bed and you got up to change into the shorts and shirt you brought with you to spend the night.

“I am being serious; he’s always liked you that’s why he’s mean to you.”

She got up and turned off the lights and got under the covers, you did too, you two faced each other.

“If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself tomorrow, good night, Y/N.”

“…night.”

You two eventually drifted off to sleep but your mind was still racing, did Yunho really like you? Isn’t that “boy is mean to the girl he likes” trope only in moves and poorly written fan fics? (Girl I’m trying my best)

Around 2am you were woken up by Yunho yelling, he was most likely playing the game with his friend, you could hear him faintly saying “Bro get him” and “Fuck” in the next room. You were going to go back to sleep but decided to see if what your friend said was true because it was slowly eating you up. You got up and walked to the room next door and knocked on his door. You could hear him telling his friends he would be back and then he opened the door. He had on random graphic tee and some grey sweatpants; fuck why does it have to be grey sweatpants. His room was nice, the lights were out but the LED strips around his bed still lit up the room.

“Oh, its you, what do you want?”

“Um, well can I talk to you for a second?”

“I mean I guess…” he walked back over to the gaming chair that was stationed in front of his TV and sat back down.

You decided to sit on his bed on the edge facing the TV and there was a brief awkward silence before he broke it.

“You came to my room just to sit here and stare?”

“No…um…”

“Spit it out dude God, what’s your problem why can’t you be normal?”

Even with you trying to talk to him he just pisses you off.

“I heard you got the new street fighter game, lets play it.”

“What ?”

“Yea let play, loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, no I’m going back to playing with my friends.” He picked up his controller and put his headset back on. You just couldn’t understand why Yunho was so mean to you, what you ever did or why he just woke up and chose to treat you this badly. If what your friend said was true then you needed to find out, tonight! While Yunho continued to play with his friends you took matters into your own hands and snatched his headset and controller.

“What are you-“

“Sorry, Yunho is busy he’ll get back on later.” You said directly into the mic then quit his game mid match.

“Y/N What the fuck is your deal?”

“Shut up.”

He sat quietly while you started up the street fighter game, you tossed him back his controller and grabbed the unoccupied one and turned it on.

“Now like I said, loser has to do what ever the winner says got it?”

“…fine”

“Good.”

You two selected your characters and the match started, 3 rounds, unlimited time. You and Yunho played while making random grunting sounds and shouting one worded taunt but even he couldn’t match up to your acute game skill. The match ended with you as the winner, and you raised your hands in victory.

“That was such BS.”

“Don’t be a sore loser YuYu.”

“Don’t call me that! I’m not a kid any more Y/N.”

“Whatever, since I won you have to do whatever I say now.”

“What do you want me to do.”

“Hmm…for now you have to sit next to me on the bed.” You said in a slightly shaky voice.

He arched his eyebrow but chose not to question it getting up from his gaming chair and sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. Your heart started to beat a bit faster, Yunho has never made you feel this way before but with the thought that he may like you in mind it made you feel a bit shy.

“Earth to Y/N, come on let’s go again.”

“Y-yeah okay let’s play.”

Why was this making you so shy, you aren’t that kind of person especially for Yunho, so why is the thought of him liking you driving you crazy. You had zoned out thinking and didn’t realize you were losing, by the time you snapped out of it you had lost the match.

“I thought you were supposed to be some awesome ass gamer, that was terrible.”

“Shut up! What do you want me to do ?”

“How about you play in just your bra from now on.”

You scoffed because you knew that he was doing this to embarrass you, you knew he just wanted to belittle you. Even if he did like you, he was still an ass, and you were determined to finally put him in his place.

“Fine you want to play it like that, say less.”

You took off your night shirt and Yunho looked back at the TV to get ready to play the next round. Round after round Yunho lost to you because you had to show him who’s the top gamer here. You kept his theme of stripping, and he was left playing in just his underwear, his face was red as a tomato, and he was flustered playing. The next round started, and he pulled the ultimate foul move of gaming, pausing to see the move list.

“Come on YuYu don’t be scared of losing.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

He growled lowly. “Shut up, why are we even doing this anyways?”

“I have my reasoning, so come on and lose like a champ.”

Your eyes focused back on the TV and before he could unpause the game to take his loss, a message from one of his gaming friends came up.

xX_CallMeDaddyMin_Xx: Yo, Yunho did you screw that streamer chick your sister is friends with finally lol.

You both read the message and before you both could react another friend sent another message; you realize it’s coming from the group party chat. You disconnected his mic but forgot to leave the party too.

__bl00dy__San__: Yeah, tell her how you always watch her streams, probs jack off to them to lmaooooo.

Before anymore messages could come through, he turned off the TV.

“Ge-Get out I’m going to bed.”

He was a blushing mess, everyone just kept outing his little secrets today, he got under the covers and covered his face, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him, he was so cute when he was shy, and you hated to admit it. You crawled up next to him, now was your chance to get some revenge.

“Come on YuYu, tell me if what they said was true.” You snaked your hand under the covers slowly, trickling down his leg.

“Leave me alone.”

“Do you watch my streams YuYu?”

“Go the hell away Y/N” he said in a muffled shy voice, you needed to tease him more now, this was your area of expertise. Once again you were used to toxic guys trying to come into your streams to harass you, but you had a love for turning those same yelling dickheads to whimpering messes, it gave you so much power, and to finally have that advantage over the same guy that has bullied you for years. You were going to enjoy this way more then you should, and so was he, you reached up and whispered into his ear.

“Why YuYu? Don’t wanna admit you like to watch me stream even though you hate me.”

Your hands reached his V line, you played with the band of his boxers.

“I-I don’t hate you…”

“Oh really? How do I make you feel then YuYu?”

Your hands dived into his boxers, and you found his semi hard length, you started to rub up and down the shaft slowly to really tease him. One thing you hated to admit about Yunho was that he was packing. You grew up seeing him in all kinds of clothing and sometimes would see the outline, but you’d rather choke then admit he had a big dick but now that you’re feeling it it’s undeniable.

His bit back a small moan at the feel of your fingers on him, his mind was racing, the girl he’s been madly in love with since they were snot nosed was in his bed feeling him up, how could he possibly function.

“….you’re okay I guess.” He continued to hide his face in the covers.

“No, no little baby, I need a better answer then that, or do you just want me to stop and leave.” You stopped moving your hands but didn’t take them out of his underwear.

“No…please don’t stop.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to stop YuYu? Am I making you feel good? Is that why you watch my streams? Because I make you feel good baby.”

He didn’t respond so it was time to push these answers out of him, or more so rub them out of him. You gripped the base of his length and started to slowly pump his dick, he let out a soft moan at the sudden friction and it made your clit jump, you needed more and so did he.

“You…you look nice when you’re gaming.”

“Aww thank you baby but I’m asking you how I make you feel, so tell me that.”

Moving your hands up and down his shaft you directed your attention to his tip, pumping it tightly as precum slowly oozed out of it, you spread it over his tip the more you pumped, you wish he wasn’t so shy so you could watch his pretty pink tip be teased right now.

“Do I turn you on Yuyu? When I watch and degrade those guys on my stream does it make your dick throb? Do you wish I was talking to you?”

He could barely focus, the slow stroking on his length made him dizzy because the sensation was so strong.

“How about you let me see you Yuyu, let me see you fall apart for the girl you claimed to hate all these years.”

You pull the cover back and pull his dick out of his boxers, his dick was red and ready to burst, the tan shaft had pretty veins bulging on it, he had some girth, but the length was something to look at.

“Wow Yuyu your dick is so pretty for an asshole.”

He covers his face and looks away from you, he didn’t know rather he wanted to disappear or cum, your teasing was so sexy, but he didn’t envision the first sexual encounter with you going like this, but he wasn’t mad at it either. You started to pump his dick even more and moved down to it. As you pumped his dick faster, he bit down on his lips hard.

“Don’t hide YuYu let me see what you look like when you cum, is that what you want baby? You want to cum for me like a desperate little slut?”

“…yes…please…”

“Please what baby?” You kept a steady pace as your grip tightened a bit.

“…please let me cum for you Y/N.”

You grinned a bit at his begging.

“Show me Yuyu, show me how you touch your self when you watch my streams.”

He was shy but he was desperate, he sat up and you removed your hand from his needy dick, and he replaced it with his own. He avoided your gaze, his whole face was red, and his eyes were low, he wanted to cum for you so bad it was driving him crazy. He started to pump his sensitive cock, throwing his head back onto the LED lit bedframe, breathy moans coming from his plush M shaped wet lips.

“Ah…Y/N…please watch me cum.” He tightly closed his eyes as he could feel his climax steadily approaching.

You had a lustful yet evil smile on your face.

“Of course, baby I’ll watch you stroke your slutty dick all night if you want me too, but I want to see more baby so don’t cum just yet, okay?”

He opened his eyes, his vision was hazy, his climax was right on the horizon and having him hold it only made it worse.

“Please…please let me cum for you Y/N” his grip on his shaft was firm as he continued to fall apart under you gazes.

“Mm well since you ask so nicely and you’re so desperate, go ahead and cum for me Babyboy.”

His moans were soft but got louder as his strokes became faster until his came. He shot hot ropes of cum from his throbbing cock, he continued to pump as it shot out and landed on his legs. His chest puffed in and out as he held his dick in his hands, he tilted his head on the side of the headrest of the bed. You giggled at his fucked-out state.

“You’re actually so cute YuYu.” You gathered up all the cum that came out onto your fingers, his eyes opened to see what your next step was. You put your now cum covered fingers into your mouth and sucked all of it off as he watched.

“Come on Yuyu, I want to play some more.” You sat on your legs and reached behind you to unclasp your bra, when you removed it Yunhos eyes was glued to your 2 mountains. You took it a step further and removed your shorts and underwear. Yunhos breathing spiked again and his softened rod started to rise once again.

“Do you want to touch me Yuyu? Go ahead and touch me wherever you like.”

He eagerly nodded his head and reached out both hands and gripped both your breast, he started to massage them.

“Ah~ that feels so good, touch me more okay Yunho.”

He brushed his thumbs over your nipples, and you moaned even more, your aching cunt became hot as you threw your head back.

“Ca-can I kiss you?” he shyly asked.

“Of course, baby.”

He didn’t waste another minute and planted a hot kiss on your lips. You’ve had sex with plenty of guys before and kissed lots of them, but this wasn’t like any kiss you’ve ever had, this kiss had dept and meaning to it, however now that you realized it, this whole moment felt so sensual. His touch on your breast gave you goosebumps and his tongue entering your mouth made you want him even more, you never realized just how much your body yearned for Yunho until now. Your tongues were doing an elaborate dance before he disconnected your mouths.

“Y/N…I need to taste you please…” Before you could even respond he pushed you down and got between your legs.

“You’re such an eager little baby, you want to taste my pretty little pussy that bad?”

He once again nodded eagerly, the look in his eyes looked like he wanted to literally eat you. You decided to give him what he is craving, and you spread your legs nice and wide so he could get a nice view, he leaned down and put his face inches away from your soaking cunt, he was so close you could feel the small breaths he was taking.

“It’s so pretty Y/N” Your face got hot at the compliment, one of the rare times he has complimented you and its about your pussy, you felt like melting. He licked one long stripe from your hole to your clit, then flicked his tongue on your nub, your legs flinched to close, and he swiftly brought his hands up to hold your legs open. He was eating your pussy like he was on death row, and this was the last meal he requested. Your back arched and staggered moans started to come from your mouth. He inserted one then two fingers into your hole, your pussy clenched and unclenched repeatedly around them as he sucked your clit like it was a lollipop. Your hands gripped his newly bleach blonde hair.

“You’re doing so good Yuyu, I’m going to cum on your pretty face if you keep going baby.”

“Please Y/N, please cum on my face, I need more of you.”

He hadn’t even entered you yet and he was already pussy drunk, he kept licking your core like his life depended on it. Your hips started to buck and you grinded down on his face, the feeling of his lips wrapped around your clit and his long slender fingers deep inside you, you had reached your limit. You came on his face, your clit throbbed, your hole started to squeeze his finger tightly, you had a firm grip on his hair, and he kept lapping up your juices. Over stimulation started to kick in and it seemed like Yunho had no plans on stopping anytime soon. You tried to push his face away, but he was stronger than you and kept going.

“Yunho! I’m gonna go crazy and wake your sister up, stop!”

He finally released your swollen nub from his lips and took his fingers out of you, he looked up at you with his face covered in your wetness, his eyes looked to pure and sincere yet the entire scene of him still having your legs spread wide was everything but pure.

“I’m sorry…I just need you so bad Y/N…”

“Then hurry up and fuck me Yuyu.”

His eyes gleamed like a kid that just got told he can open his gifts on Christmas eve and not Christmas.

“R-really? Oh my god okay let me grab a condom.” He excitedly got up and walked over to his dresser. He grabbed on condom from the top drawer, and you could swear you saw his invisible golden retriever tail wagging, he was so cute you giggled to yourself. He walked back over as he was tearing open the condom, he fully removed his boxers before getting back between your legs. He rolled the condom all the way down his length and lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure about this Y/N? We don’t have too if you don’t want to.”

You reached up to cup the side of his face and smiled warmly at him.

“I want this Yuyu, please take me, I need you just as much as you need me right now.”

He leaned down to kiss you deeply and inserted the tip into you. You winced as your pussy began to stretch around his dick. He kept the slower pace as you moaned into his mouth, his length just kept coming, it felt like it was never ending. Once he bottomed out in you, he stopped the kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay baby, I promise.”

He stroked into you once. Twice. Three times. Then stopped deep in you and closed his eyes tightly as he held his position inside of you.

“What’s wrong? I told you I’m okay, you can keep going.”

“I-I know but- I’m not” a rosy blush covered his high cheeks bones yet again and that’s when you put two and two together.

“Yuyu did you…did you cum?”

“…yeah”

He pulled out of you and the condom was filled with his cum, he took the condom off in embarrassment and tossed it into his bedside trash You wanted so badly to tease him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, instead you reached your arms out to invite him in for a hug and he gladly accepted it. He dropped down on your body, and you hugged him tightly, even though he just came his dick was still hard as rock.

“Are you still horny Yuyu?”

“Yea but that was my last condom.”

“So, you are a little slut huh?”

“Not now Y/N” he was still sad that he couldn’t fully experience his first-time having sex with you the way that he wanted too.

“…Are you clean?”

“Of course, what kinda question is that?”

“…well, I am too.”

“What are you saying right now Y/N?” He leaned up to make sure he was understanding exactly what you were saying, and he wasn’t just hearing what he wanted to hear.

“I’m saying…if you want to keep going without a condom…we can…I trust you.”

That was all Yunho had to hear, he leaned back down onto you, and you hugged him again, he reached down and lined himself back up into your entrance and slid his dick back into you. His ear was right by your mouth as you let out a throaty moan, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly, pumping into your pussy slowly and deeply. You gripped both his shoulders and drip your nails into them.

“You feel so good inside me Yuyu it’s so deep.”

He started to pump into you deeply, his tip hitting your spot like it was a drum as he drilled into you. He groaned as the over stimulation and his soon approaching climax was rushing forward.

“I’m about to cum Y/N please cum with me.”

You dragged your nails up and down his back leaving red streaks up and down his back as he stroked deeply into you. You started to see stars; you tried your best to moan quietly but you couldn’t the feeling was too amazing. In perfect sync you two came together, you could feel the hot liquid deep inside you, thank God you were on birth control or you’d for sure be good as pregnant.

He still held you tightly and gave no signs of letting go, his dick softened inside of you.

“Yunho pull out so I can wipe up.”

“I want to stay in you forever Y/N, I love you so much.”

You couldn’t help but smile when he said that.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been so awful to you, it’s not an excuse but you drive me so crazy, and hearing about that stupid group date my sister dragged you too pissed me off so bad. I want to be the only one taking you out, I want to be the only one seeing you like this…” He kept going, just spilling out all these feelings he had held in for years, you felt like your heart was going to explode. As he was still talking, you pulled him into a kiss.

“I like you too loser.” You kissed him again and he slid out of you, you could feel everything seeping out of you, he reached over to his bed side table and grab a few of the tissues that were in the tissue box. He carefully wiped out your overstuffed pussy and threw the tissues away. He pulled the cover over you both and brought you in too cuddle.

“Yunho, I have to sneak back into your sisters’ room before she wakes up.”

The door swung open, and your best friend stood in the door frame with dark circles under her eyes.

“Too fucking late for that, I’m glad you two worked out your feelings for each other but next time do it quietly and when I’m not fucking home.” She slammed the door as she left, and you and Yunho just laid their giggling with each other.

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

,,Tattoo’’- C.S.

back to masterlist

synopsis: Chris and his girlfriend, Evelyn, are dared by Chris’ brothers Matt and Chris to get ‘matching’ tattoos, as punishment for loosing a challenge for their video.

pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Evelyn (she/her)

warnings: cussing, dirty jokes, suggestive content, getting a tattoo.

-

“No fucking way we lost ALL of those!” Chris’ jaw drops as he looks at his girlfriend, Evelyn, in shock.

“Well, you did! So now we get to choose your punishment!” Nick said, letting out a fake evil laugh.

They were in teams for a youtube video, Matt and his girlfriend- Layla- and Nick with Larray.

“Bitchhh i just got an idea!!” Larray giggled as he pulled all four of them in a huddle, Chris and Evelyn giving each other worried looks.

The couple heard a few giggles from the group, before they broke apart.

“Okay, so,” Layla started. “you have two options. one, you get ‘matching’ tattoos. they could be something small and simple, or something that doesn’t even really go together- like a sun and a moon. that way, the tattoos even work by themself. two, you guys take us all on a all expenses paid trip to the Bahamas AND a cruise. Meaning, you’d pay for the plane tickets, hotel rooms, food, cruise tickets, everything.” Layla smirked. “So, which is it?” she asked.

“what! thats not fair!” chris pouted. the boy had money, but he sure as hell doesn’t want to waste it all on a trip. He also has no tattoos, and being honest, he didnt really have any desire to get one.

“yes it is! you lost bitch!” Larray laughed, and Chris groaned.

Evelyn already had a few tattoos, like Matt, Nick, and Larray, so she was definitely leaning more towards the tattoo option.

“Chris, how ‘bout we just do the tattoo? something badass, or small; so you wont regret it? Its WAY cheaper than a trip to the Bahamas alone.” Chris rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he shook his head, and the group cheered.

“well, there you have it! Chris and Ev will be getting tattoos! maybe that will be next weeks vlog. Hell, maybe even me and Matt will get one.” Nick shrugged.

“YOU REALLY WANNA GET MATCHING TATTOOS?!” Evelyn yelled, grabbing Chris’ arm in excitement.

“Yeah, yeah.. i guess. i swear though, im not doing anything stupid. no cringey shit.” Chris fake gagged, and Evelyn rolled her eyes.

“oh, shut up you big baby. Ill go look for some ideas! Layla, Larray, come with me!” Evelyn rushed off to somewhere else in the house, Larray and Layla following close behind.

“hey! im gay too y’know!” Nick called out after them, but shrugged and walked over to the camera.

“fuck.” Chris grumbled as he sat on the couch.

“whats up?” Matt asked his younger brother as he sat next to him.

“what do you thinks up, matt. I have to get a tattoo,” Chris sighed. “man, that shits gonna hurt so bad, and i really dont wanna do it.” Chris whined, putting his head in his hands. Being honest, the pain was the least of his worries. What if Evelyn ever dumps him? Every time he would look at the tattoo, he’d be reminded of her. But he couldn’t say that.

“hey, its no big deal.” Matt reassured his brother, placing his hand on his back. “They dont hurt bad, i promise. Ev won’t pick anything you wont like, and i doubt she’d pick something big, so you wont have to be there for long. and hey, we can make the appointment, and if you really dont wanna do this, we can cancel it. i dont think the fans will be upset.” Matt nodded, and chris sat up.

“yeah, your right. ill be okay. thanks, matt.” Chris nodded up at his brother, who flashed him a smile and walked over to Nick with the camera.

Chris heard his and Matt’s girlfriends squealing, and Larry chuckling. God, Evelyn warmed his heart so much. He wouldn’t say it, but he loves her. They’ve been dating for only a few months, maybe five or six, and Matt and Layla have been dating for around seven or eight months.

“Chris!” The brown haired boy heard his girlfriend yell, as the three of them bursted out of the hallway.

“hm?” Chris looked up at her.

“Whats wrong, baby?” Her smile quickly faded and her eyebrows furrowed, as she sat next to him. She placed her hand on his leg, and he looked at her.

He made eye contact with her, and leaned in for a small kiss.

“Oh. Was that all, silly?” Evelyn giggled. Chris shook his head and wrapped both arms around Evelyn, as he pulled her into him.

“your my everything,” he spoke. “I think i love you, Ev..” he looked at the girl who’s head was on his chest.

“really..?” she asked, as chris held his breath. He nodded. “Oh my god, chris!! I love you too!” she laughed and pulled him into a loving kiss. Their lips moved in sync before Chris pulled away.

“I’m glad,” he smiled, his face red, as he placed his forehead against Evelyn’s.

The whole house cheered and laughed, congratulating the two as if they just got proposed.

“See, Ev! I told you!” Layla jumped, rushing over to give her best friend a hug.

“Yeah, yeah!” Evelyn rolled her eyes and got off of her boyfriend.

“Proud of you, man.” Matt nodded at his younger brother, as they did their ‘secret’ handshake.

“thanks.” Chris smiled, and Evelyn whipped back around.

“Wait! I forgot to show you the tattoo!” Evelyn quickly sat back down beside Chris, as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “What do you think about these ones?” She asked, showing him her phone.

The image was of spiders, seemingly black widows.

“holy fuck! Those are dope!” Chris laughed, grabbing the phone to show nick and matt, who were standing behind the couch.

“Thats sick!” Nick laughed, pointing at the phone.

“See, man, told ya she wouldn’t pick somethin’ ya didn’t like.” Matt shrugged, and Chris glared at him.

-A WEEK LATER-

“ready?” the tattooist asked as she held the needle close to a worried Chris, his girlfriends’ hand in his. She had already gotten hers done, along with the rest of the group getting tiny ones, Chris being the last one left.

“mhm,” he nodded, as he felt the needle touch his skin. “ow ow ow-“ he squeezed Evelyn’s hand, as she kissed it gently.

“you’re doing great, baby.” She reassured him, as nick held the camera aiming at him.

“mhm..” he grunted.

“bet thats what he sounds like in bed,” Larray joked, as Chris and Evelyn gasped.

“Larray!” Evelyn yelled, and everyone, besides chris, laughed. He found it funny as fuck, he was just too occupied by the needle poking in and out of his skin.

About twenty minutes into the tattoo, chris spoke up again.

“it doesn’t hurt bad anymore,” he sighed, as he slowly let go of Evelyn’s hand. Matt and Layla were talking, and Nick and Larray were, so Evelyn just patiently waited by her boyfriends side.

“see?” Evelyn joked, and chris mocked her.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.” he scolded.

The group waited for around an hour, and Chris’ tattoo was finally done.

He slowly stood up, and admired it in the mirror.

“This looks sick as fuck,” he smiled, pulling Evelyn by his side so he could see the matching tattoos.

He pulled out his phone, and snapped a picture.

“this ones’ goin on the photo dump,” he said as he gently kissed Evelyn’s shoulder.

-

@bernardenjoyer

[firstkanaphans]

Is Only Friends Slut-Shaming Boston?

I’m going to be real honest here. When this idea first started making the rounds, I just thought it was a bad take, but then so many people were saying it that I started to wonder if I had missed something. So, I rewatched the finale and now can confidently say…it’s a bad take.

Do I think the narrative is punishing Boston? Abso-fucking-lutely! But is it because he’s a slut? No, of course not. (All of these assholes are sluts!) Boston is being punished because he slept with his best friend’s boyfriend. And—hot take—but I don’t think that’s an unfair reason for the narrative to punish someone. Even sluts need to have boundaries sometimes. 

The first major complaint I’ve seen is that the narrative is slut-shaming Boston by making him the only character who ends up alone (which is categorically untrue because Nick also ends up alone, but that is neither here nor there.) This story only had two possible endings: either Boston ended up alone or he ended up with Nick. And I think, if given the choice, this is the ending Boston would have chosen for himself. This isn’t a sad ending for him. He’s unhappy being in a monogamous relationship. This is what he wants. 

This is also just a ridiculous argument altogether because if you think Only Friends is slut-shaming its characters, the last thing you should want is for one of your sluts to suddenly decide not to be a slut because of the healing power of love. I would argue that forcing a polyamorous man into a monogamous relationship would be even more sex negative than what happened in canon. 

And for those saying polyamory should have been considered, I would just like to remind you that there are two people in Boston and Nick’s relationship and they both deserve a say. That is, very literally, what ethical non-monogamy is. It has to be consensual. 

From day one, Nick has wanted to be in a monogamous relationship with Boston. That’s what their arc is all about. And when they finally get together in episode eleven, Boston makes it explicitly clear that monogamy is one of the terms he’s offering. So while I think it’s perfectly valid for Boston to want a polyamorous relationship, I don’t think it’s fair to expect Nick to just accept that when he was promised differently. The central conflict here is not Boston’s promiscuousness. It’s that Nick wants a monogamous relationship and Boston doesn’t. And that’s okay! Boston is free to live his “fun and sassy” life as Nick calls it (with no judgment whatsoever), but Nick is also free to live his. 

People have been dragging Sand for telling Nick not to “lower his bar” for Boston, insinuating that this is slut-shaming language, but I actually think the conversation between him and Nick perfectly illustrates why this whole situation with Boston is not slut-shaming. Sand spells it out clearly: “People have different ideas about this,” i.e. “You and Boston have different ideas about this. He wants one thing, you want another. Don’t change for him.” He never suggests that Boston’s way of living is bad, he is simply saying that it’s not compatible with Nick’s.

The only argument I have heard in favor of Only Friends slut-shaming its characters that I feel holds any water is that Boston never received a proper apology for any of the horrible things that were done to him—but then again, neither did Top. Now this could certainly be because Top is a slut, too, and therefore doesn't deserve apologies, but I think it’s far more likely that the directors were simply running out of available screen time. 

Boston ends the series having re-kindled his friendship with Ray and Chuem. He has moved to New York to live out his dream. He is single—which is what he wants. I don’t think this is a bad ending for him.  Boston’s biggest slut-shamer has always been Mew and him sleeping with Top only reinforced that idea. If you think the narrative is slut-shaming Boston, I think you’re only seeing things from Mew’s perspective. Mew is slut-shaming Boston. Mew is punishing Boston. The narrative remains neutral.

TL;DR: No. Boston is a slut and he is being shamed, but the two are unrelated.

[my-own-walker]

Hiya!!!! I was wondering if you do peter maximoff smut? 😅😅😅 If you do, I have a request-but if you don't maybe you could make it like Tate or Kyle? <3

I was wondering if you could do something like Peter (if you can) like using his vibrations and going down on the reader(fem!) while making her read her smutty diary entries about him after he read what was in it? :) THANK YOU BESTIE MWAHHH

I Warned You

note: forgive me if this sucks. my emotions have been all over the past few days and i burned the FUCK out of my hand last night.

warnings: sm*t, oral f receiving, peter being a slut, etc

+++

It was a rather oppressive day, heat-wise. One of those sticky hot, thighs chafing, greasy bangs days. The sun shined down in a hazy way on the neighborhood I lived in. As I sat there in my denim shorts and big t-shirt, I reminisced on the days of summer as a child. How I'd spend them with my best friend, Peter.

He was the first person I met when I moved here. I was two, to be fair, so I don't remember much of it all. He's always been a permanent fixture in my life. Someone who was just...always there.

He lived next door. Just like a cliche movie. We would ride bikes and draw on the ground with sidewalk chalk together. He was my second-grade boyfriend. He decided to ‘ask me out’ on the last day of school. He learned in school how to say 'I love you,' in sign language just before he asked to hold my hand on the playground on that day in June. He signed it any chance he could. When his mom drove us home in her minivan that day, he held up the sign. Our little secret.

That summer was pure childhood bliss. Innocence. We really didn't 'break up,' per se. When we entered the third grade that September it was just mutual that we had crushes on other kids. We still stayed friends. I'd hang out at his house after school every day until my parents got home. When the weather was warm, I'd sit outside on my porch waiting for him after dinner. Then, like clockwork, we'd find something to do.

As we got older our activities changed. He taught me how to skateboard. I taught him how to trespass on the baseball fields that were tucked down a back street in our neighborhood. We'd swing on this old tire swing over the stream that ran through our backyards.

In our sophomore year of high school, he bought an old car with dreams to fix it up. A 1965 Ford Mustang. It was rusty, beat up, and had no engine. The windshield was shattered and the inside wasn't upholstered. The only working part of it was its radio. When I walked out of my front door on the day he brought it home, he slapped it on its hood, proudly declaring, 'I'm gonna take you to prom in this thing, baby!' We sat in the old thing all afternoon listening to the radio.

I had known about his abilities the whole time. I never got into foot races with him as a kid for that reason. He would beat me every time. Peter had it under control, for the most part, but only when he wanted to. He started getting brazen with it as a teenager. He'd take me on these wild adventures where he'd steal things. The first time it was just some candy from a convenience store. By the time he got that damned car, he was stealing entire carburetors. These trips took all of 2 minutes. Just the two of us speeding off to create havoc.

Somewhere along the way I fell in love with him. Or maybe it wasn't even that. I can't remember a time when I didn't love him. It changed, though. I started to feel things toward him I'd never felt before. When he'd hold my head to prevent me from getting whiplash as we were making our hasty escapes from his escapades, I'd find chills would run up my spine.

Our beautiful little romance blossomed once he finally got his Mustang up and running. Not that he needed it, really. He was leagues faster than any car. He just wanted to be able to transport more things. And his new girlfriend. We started dating in junior year. He had just gotten his license and took me on a ride one night. We parked down a backstreet in our town and our lips finally met. At long last, his fast fingers were allowed to explore my body in a way I had never allowed him to before. It was wonderful, awkward, and hungry. Everything a teenage love affair should be.

He ended up taking me to the prom in that car, just as he'd promised. He looked so smart in his little tux. We spent that entire summer simply enraptured with each other. Our hangouts transformed from outdoor antics to being tangled in my bed, fan on max speed, windows open to hear the mourning doves sing outside. I can still smell the fresh summer air and the smell of him combining to make something all-encompassing and intoxicating.

It was the next summer on this very hot day. Peter and I had been dating for a year. He was away, hanging out with his friends or something. I was home alone. I sat there on my porch, diary resting lazily on my lap, staring off at the hanging 'FOR SALE,' sign on my yard in front of me . I switched between twirling my pen in my hands and chewing the end of it, deep in thought.

It was always the deal in my house. As soon as I graduated, as the youngest kid in my family, we'd move away again. My parents weren't happy with the town. They knew I had made my life there, but a deal was a deal. I couldn't imagine a life without Peter.

When the sign went up on my front lawn, I began a diary. I was never a writer. I was horrible at keeping up with writing entries in a tiny book. But knowing my life was about to change, I began scratching down every small detail about my life. My time in this house. My childhood. My life with Peter. It was a passion project. I wanted to document everything so I'd never forget.

Peter interrupted my deep inner turmoil. Well, not exactly him. His loud-ass car pulled up, parking in the driveway next door. He stepped out of the car singing, keys jingling in his hands. Like clockwork, his head turned to see if I was on my porch. Our routine since we were kids. In a flash, he was sitting next to me.

'Hey pretty,' he breathed, kissing me gently on my cheek.

'Hey Peter,' I smiled, looking up at him. Whenever he was near me I couldn't help but get wrapped up in him. Swept away in his deep brown eyes and sea of silver hair. There was a palpable feeling between the two of us. Dancing around the topic of me moving away, even though the signs were all around us, literally. It was a tension that colored every moment of our time together, yet we tried in earnest to ignore it.

'Whatcha got there?' he asked, half-taunting, as he usually did.

'Oh, haha,' I blushed, clapping the book shut and tucking the pen inside. 'It's nothing, just a planner.'

'A planner? Y/L/N, when have you ever been the type to schedule things?' he scoffed. 'Gimme that.' He lunged for the diary. I curled my body up tight into a ball, the book nestled safely between my lap and chest. My arms secured it even further.

'Peter! Stop it! I gotta get my shit together,' I whined. 'Like, plan out packing!'

'Packing for what?' he asked sarcastically, still trying in vain to pry the diary from my grasp. In his desperation, he attempted the only trick he had left to get me to let go. He started tickling my sides. It was a surefire way to piss me off, but also to get me to let go. The diary clattered to the ground as I stood up quickly to get away from his hands tickling me at light speed. He paused for a moment to grab the diary off the ground.

'Hey, thanks!' he exclaimed, taking off in a flash inside my house, leaving only the wind behind to prove he was there.

I clamored inside behind him, calling after him as I stumbled up the stairs. He was already laying on my bed, on his side, reading my diary entries when I got to my room.

‘DON’T read those!’ I panted in vain. ‘They’re so bad!’

‘Oh, these little stories?’ he smirked, looking up only with his eyes. ‘I think they’re pretty good.’

My cheeks burned hot. I stepped into the room and slammed the door shut. He held the book up closer to his face and squinted. ‘Peter, please, I’m warning you,’ I pleaded.

‘His tongue slid into me. All of my insides felt warm and tingly…’ he read out.

‘OH MY GOD NO!’ I rushed over to him, trying to pry my diary out of his hands. I was on the bed on my knees doing what I could to get my embarrassing writing back. He and his super speed, though, had other plans. I gave up after minutes of trying, tired of grabbing at a person that wasn’t even there by the time my hands reached him. He stopped his motion and was right back where he started on my bed.

‘I think I got what I needed,’ he smirked. ‘Let me review the highlights with you…’

He moved quickly, without using his super speed, to lay me down my my back. I didn’t object. He was always gentle with me, careful not to use his speed unless I asked him to. Peter hated anything that took a long time, but with me he always had patience. Well, unless it was taking my clothes off.

Peter worked quickly to get every inch of fabric off my body. His smooth hands rubbed all over my skin as he kissed me passionately. He stopped to pick up the diary that had been discarded to the side on my bed.

‘Let’s see…’ he muttered, pinning my shoulder down with one hand, his legs straddling my lap. ‘He spread my legs slowly…okay I can do that.’

The diary was once again dropped so he could part my thighs. His hot breath hovered over my weeping cunt.

‘Right, right, then the tongue part,’ he reminded himself. He kissed all along the insides of my thighs, eventually making contact with my middle. My toes curled and my breath hitched. I was ready for what he was about to do. He slipped his tongue into me and my eyes rolled back. He flicked his tongue over my clit, making me yelp out.

He separated himself from me to grab my diary again.

‘You’re gonna have to read this next part, Y/N, I’m a little preoccupied here,’ he instructed. He passed the book into my shaking hands. I didn’t even have the energy to protest. I just wanted to feel his warmth within me again. His mouth reconnected with my pussy.

‘H-his abilities came in handy when giving me head,’ I panted. ‘He can do this thing- thi- this thing where he vibrates.’ I could only choke out so much in my pleasure.

I felt him take a few deep breaths before beginning to vibrate at sonic speed. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The first time he did it, I thought I would just about die. He pulled away for a moment.

‘Keep reading,’ he breathed. I whimpered, shaking hands once again opening the diary. He reconnected with my middle again and I let out a loud moan.

‘He kn-knows how to make m-me purr like a kitten. There’s n-nothing like it,’ I sputtered out.

I didn’t have much left in me. He, acting as my own personal vibrator, brought me to my limit. I came with a loud yelp, laughing immediately after. Peter stopped vibrating and laid on top of me, his face meeting mine.

‘You are SUCH a dick, Maximoff,’ I giggled.

‘I thought it was sexy, how you write about me and all,’ Peter shrugged. He peppered kisses all over my face and neck as we both caught our breath. For a fleeting moment, nothing in the world mattered. All we cared about was each other. For a moment, I wasn’t moving away. It was us and us only. ‘You’re a million miles away, beautiful. What’s wrong?’

Snapping out of my trance, I planted a kiss on his lips. ‘Nothing at all, Peter. Just really ready for round two,’ I smirked.

+++

I really enjoyed this one. Thank you so much for this request! I promise I’ll write more this week. It’s been cray cray on my end.