#why does the pov look so weird

[butterpuffed]

HI!!! I haven’t posted pmatga in a while!!!

I decided to remake a few ref sheets, like wizard pac ( orbit ), tabes ( now terry ) and Mable ( based off of @/30-fucking-boiled-potatoes ‘s valenpac berry! )

- Orbit now has awful legs and uses the staff as a cane

- Terry was moved from taffyko ( emikos candy store ) to enakos butchery :3

- Mable is still incredibly stupid and uses his wings to stim/relieve pent up energy

AND LASTLY

A teeny perspective text / screenshot redraw

Don’t look at me like that mr Aquintas

Weenie

[peterthepark]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth

summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.

a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.

It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 

But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.” 

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again. 

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 

Summer has never felt so long. 

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 

You’re completely devastating. 

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?” 

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it. 

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 

He’s milked. Spent. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke. 

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 

God forbid they have coyotes, right? 

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.

He’ll never admit that, though.

[visenyaism]

ASOIAF POV characters ranked by how good of a guest judge they would be on drag race (definitive ranking)

24. Arys oakheart. spectacularly bad in a way that would also be bad TV because he simply would not know what to do. and would be icky about it.

23. Ned stark. canonically gets suspicious of people just because they are gender nonconforming.

22. Aeron greyjoy. people are going to wonder why i put him as Victarion on this list. this is because I think victarion has a better personality for reality TV.

21. Victarion greyjoy. good TV, would win reverse GLAAD award for most homophobic event on television.

20. Areo hotah. too stoic.

19. Quentyn. little nerd in over his head. if Barristan Selmy is telling you that you are not serving hard enough it’s already over.

18. Barristan selmy. a #ally for revealing that egg legalized gay marriage for his kid daeron and being happy about it, but does not have a lot else going for him. would probably say everyone looks nice

17. Bran. seven.

16. Joncon. IS gay, but does not seem like he’s super into all that.

15. Jon. Would probably awaken something in him.

14. Jaime. does not serve cunt, is one.

13. Brienne. Listen she’s trying her best okay.

12. Samwell Tarly. Would DEFINITELY awaken something in him. too busy blushing and telling everyone they look great to be an actual judge.

11. Arya. One thing about her is she WILL be finding people and she WILL be talking to ALL of them which makes her a great TV personality, but i think she would get bored.

10. Davos. Can’t explain this one i just think he would be down.

9. Cat. Serves, afraid to FULLY serve. Ally.

8. Asha. gets off on being mean to pretty boys so you know she is having a great time.

7. Dany. what can i say she’s a star.

6. Tyrion. definitely has the personality for it.

5. Cersei. is a fascist but showing up in full rhaegar eleganza to her husband who she murdered’s funeral. cuntress. You KNOW she would kill it.

4. Arianne. Definitely the first person you would think to ask to guest judge and for good reason.

3. Sansa. 13 year old fashion icon who loves gay people so much. Is so into it the whole time. meticulous notes.

2. Theon. could be the greatest to do it if he could ever get over himself but as it stands simultaneously knocks it out of the park and is a total train wreck. extremely fun to watch.

1. Melisandre. Serves like her life depends on it which she thinks it literally does. Obsessed with appearances and performances. off putting antagonistic cryptic and weird. fantastic TV.

[sapphire-weapon]

So here's an interesting thing.

This is Saddler's POV when Ashley picks up Leon's gun:

Leon isn't looking at Ashley.

He's looking right at Saddler. And that's the look of a man who's ready to kill.

It's only after the first shot is fired that Leon actually looks at Ashley, and his expression is completely different when he does.

From Ashley's POV:

This might sound weird, but this is probably the best showcase of how fundamentally changed Leon is in RE4make from RE2make. In RE2make, his focus would've been Ashley first. He would've been worried about her and scared for himself. Saddler would be an afterthought; Leon can worry about Saddler after both he and Ashley are safe.

That was probably what Krauser was referring to during training when he told Leon that he was too soft to do what's necessary. You know, before Krauser himself went nuts, and the meaning of that statement became something else entirely.

But in RE4make, Leon's first response is rage. It's violence. It's murder. His instinct isn't to save Ashley or protect himself -- it's to kill Saddler.

It's only after it hits him just how stuck he is -- after that first shot is fired -- that the worry starts -- that the regret and heartache kick in.

What Krauser taught Leon -- what he really taught Leon -- was that protecting someone is more than shielding them from harm or pulling them to safety. It's eliminating the threat around them so that they can be safe. Shields can break, and running protects no one.

So, sure, the "being held against my will" thing is the main reason why Leon turns down Ashley's offer at the end of the game -- but it's not the only reason. It's because Leon came to accept, over the course of this mission, that he's not that guy anymore. He can't stand by and be Ashley's guard. The only way he knows how to protect her is by eliminating the threat around her -- and that's not what security detail does.

But that's who Leon's become now. The ship of "serve and protect" has sailed, for him. In his own words: "You've gotta keep moving forward."

[ginax0916]

°‧★ 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ★‧°

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

Genre: Angst & fluff

Synopsis: What happens when they’re both jealous with feelings for each other, but won’t admit it?

(It starts off with texts but it’s a regular story after)

༺☆༻

༺☆༻

Y/n pov:

Why does he care so much? It’s not even like we’re dating. Plus he brings girls over all the time why’s it such a big deal that I have a date. It’s like he’s purposely saying all these bad things about him so I’ll cancel the date. I truly don’t get what he means, Jason is a nice guy every girl simps over him. Not to mention he’s captain of the football team. But I mean what can go wrong, we’re just going out to dinner then coming back to my place and there, done.

But part of me feels regret. I don’t know why but I feel regret for not listing to Matt now that Jason is only 5 minutes away. What if he’s right? What if he really is just putting an act on to get into my pants? No he would never. Matt’s just jealous and trying to scare me. After all we’re just roommates.

*knock knock*

Oh fuck. Jason’s here. Suddenly my nerves are increasing. My hands are sweaty and my dress is too tight. What the fuck do I do.

“Hey Jason”

“Hey pretty, you read to go?” He says. But for some reason it feels weird when he says it.

“Uh yea let me just grab my coat” I say as I walk to my bedroom and put it on. Before I walk out I see myself in the mirror. Is the dress too short? Too slutty? Suddenly I’m overthinking everything.

“Ok let’s go” I saw as I walk back to him.

“You look beautiful by the way” Jason says. Yet it still feels weird.

“Thank you. You look good too” I say trying to convince myself that he does.

We get in the car and he starts driving, about 5 minutes into the car ride I feel his hand creep onto my knee. And it keeps moving up till it rests on my inner thigh. I wanna push his hand off but I don’t want to be rude.

“Is that fine?” He asks.

“Uh yea” I could’ve said fucking no.

The rest of the ride is filled with an awkward and uncomfortable silence.

The whole dinner was extremely awkward. We barely agreed on anything and he kept making weird comments about how good my body looked in the dress. I just wanted to be done with it and go home.

“You read to go?” Jason asked. Fuck yes I am.

“Yea let’s go” I say.

Gladly he payed for the dinner which was nice of him, but it still doesn’t change the fact that the night was extremely uncomfortable.

We get in the car and I expect him to turn it on but he doesn’t.

“Are you gonna turn it on?” I ask trying to sound as nice as possible.

“You look so pretty” He says as he puts his hand on my thigh, too far up for my liking.

“Oh uh thanks” I saw trying to move away from him.

“That dress makes you look so good” Jason mumbles as he gets closer to me.

“I bet it would look even better if it was on the floor”

“Wha-” I get cut off my his lips on mine.

“What the fuck” I raise my voice as I push him off of me.

“Come on don’t be a brat” He grabs my face and attempts to kiss me again.

“Get the fuck off me” I scream as I try to unbuckle my self.

“I said don’t be a fucking brat” Jason raises his voice as he grabs my body and tries to pull me over to his side of the car.

“I said get off me you jackass!” I scream and I push him hard enough so he lets go and I get out of the car.

As I’m walking away from the car I hear the engine start and before I can move away he drives by me speeding through the puddle that was on the ground, making it splash all over me.

“You’re fucking kidding”

I sit on the curve of the parking lot, soaking wet in disgusting water and pull out my phone to text the one person who warned me this was going to happen.

He��s gonna kill me.

I stay here where he told me freezing because of the water and my jacket is soaked so it’s not much use. But soon enough I see Matt’s car pull up in front of me.

“Oh baby what happened? Why are you soaking wet” Matt says the second he gets out of the car.

“You were right. I should’ve listened I’m sorry” I sniffle as I feel tears swell up in my eyes.

“Hey hey it’s ok don’t cry. You did nothing wrong” He says while wrapping his arms around me holding me close.

“But you warned me and I was bitch and didn’t listen” I start to cry, keeping my head on Matt’s chest.

“No you’re not a bitch. You just made a mistake and now you can learn from it yea? You didn’t know this was gonna happen don’t bring yourself down for it” He comforts me.

“Here put this on and I’ll take you home and then you can tell me everything that happened how does that sound?” Matt asks as he wraps his coat around me.

“Mhm yea” I nod.

“Come on let’s go sweets I don’t want you to get sick” He grabs my hand helping me get up and we get into the car.

Instead of there being an awkward silence, there’s a comforting silence.

I look over to Matt and I feel butterflies in my stomach. The way the moonlight shines through the window lighting his face up. The way his blue eyes reflect the stars in the sky. The way his jawline is so sharp and defined and his cheekbones more prominent than ever. The way his nose compliments his face oh so well. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about my roommate, it’s not right.

But what if I don’t wanna be just roommates with Matt anymore?

Should I make a part 2 for this or no??

[hannieehaee]

Svt member jerking off to another members gf

18+ / mdi

another member jacking off to you

content: established relationship, smut, afab reader, masturbation, mentions of a member catching you nude/having sex on accident, mentions of your or a member catching another member masturbating, etc.

wc: 781

a/n: i wasnt sure whether to write this from the pov of the member masturbating or the member who has a gf's pov, so i just went for the second one ... anyways i think irl theyd be genuinely angry at this lol but i decided to make it more lighthearted and crack-ish. hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he'd be mad as shit lmao. if he ever caught wind of (or even worse, caught) one of his members touching themselves with you in mind, all hell would break loose. he didnt care if it was all in their imagination, he'd go on a rampage to make sure none of them ever even looked your way ever again.

jeonghan -

he's a lil weird so i think he would do that little gremlin laugh he does and find some type of sick pride in knowing that even though you were his and only his, you had his friends wanting you so bad they had to jack off to the thought of you.

joshua -

just cocky about it. oh yeah? you want his girlfriend? too bad! she's well taken care of by her boyfriend joshua. no one could ever have you but him. it'd feed his ego knowing others wanted you but you'd never even so much as look their way as long as you had joshua.

jun -

just whiny about it. he knew his brothers quite well so he wouldnt think of it too deeply into it, knowing that you were quite pretty and probably had the affections of many men. he'd still be bothered by it, but not enough to actually have much of a reaction.

soonyoung -

this would activate an overly touchy side of him (even more than usual), refusing to leave your side (or stop fucking you at every given moment) in order to assert his dominance towards any member who dared look at you in anything other than a platonic way. somehow you'd also have to end up reassuring him that you like him and him only lmao.

wonwoo -

uncharacteristically cocky about it. but also would turn a little more possessive after finding out one of his members had you in mind while jacking off. even if you were unaware of what had happened, he'd fuck you extra hard for the next few days in order to let you (and everyone else) know how much you were his and only his.

jihoon -

would also turn super possessive at the situation. that, plus genuinely annoyed lol. he took your sex life and relationship to be something very private, so knowing that one of his member's even pictured you in that context would have him huffing and puffing his chest in annoyance. he'd be all over you for a while just to reassure himself that you were no one else's but his.

seokmin -

he'd feel kinda sad for some reason (?) like he would feel so weird at knowing you were in someone else's mind in such a way, specially since it was a friend of his. he'd feel sad for them knowing they could never have you, but also annoyed knowing other people wanted you in ways only he should ever want you.

mingyu -

would whine and pout and maybe even get genuinely annoyed. it was kind of crossing a boundary for his member to literally moan out his s/o's name while jerking off. why were you even on their mind in the first place? you were his and his only. he'd have to confront them and give them a reality check in the nicest way he could.

minghao -

he'd feel a little weird about it, wondering why jack off to you of all people. then he'd reason that you were the prettiest thing he'd ever laid eyes on and try to be a little more understanding. he'd maybe relate this to somewhat of a parasocial relationship, knowing it would never be mutual attraction between you and his member.

seungkwan -

absolutely scandalized and annoyed. why in all hell was his member whining out your name? why not find literally anyone else to be the protagonist of their fantasies? you were taken in every sense of the world, and even mere thoughts of you belonged to seungkwan and seungkwan only.

vernon -

can't really help what makes you horny, he'd think with a shrug. that's as far as that thought would go. yeah, sure, it was kinda weird that one of his friends was thinking about you in that context, but imagination is only imagination. nothing was actually happening, so it wouldnt really make him think too much of it.

chan -

frustrated more than anything. he already shared everything of his with his members. what do you mean he now had to share you with them? no. simply unacceptable. would curse and nag at whoever thought it was okay to even look at you in any way other than innocent. he'd become super possessive of you after that, showing off how much you were his to all his members.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Why I feel like Ka/taang is one-sided, despite textual evidence 

ATLA does try to convince us that Katara has romantic feelings for Aang. For example: she seems thoughtful when she realizes that Aang is a powerful bender; she’s offended that he didn’t want to kiss her in the Cave of Two Lovers; she gets jealous when Sokka says On Ji and Aang look good together.

So…what’s wrong with anti-Kataangers? Do we just lack media comprehension? 

To be clear, on their own, these gestures can indicate romantic interest. But at the same time, we have stuff like “Aang is a sweet little guy, like Momo.” We have her ambivalent facial expression after he kisses her before the eclipse, and her hedging during Ember Island Players, and her anger when he kisses her anyway. In the context of these conflicting cues, Katara’s possibly romantic reactions can absolutely be interpreted in a different way, because: 

Acknowledging a friend as a potential romantic interest is not the same as actually being romantically interested in them. (Imo this is something young women struggle with, due to a combination of romance-centrism and heteronormativity that make women feel like they should be in romantic relationships, and that boys and girls who share intimate and deep feelings for one another must be romantically into each other) 

Wanting someone to find you desirable is not the same as desiring that person. (Which is something a lot of women, especially young women, struggle with. Remember all the discourse around Cat Person back in 2017?) 

Being jealous when someone flirts with your friend is not the same as wanting to be with your friend. (Especially when you see your friends as family, or if you’re accustomed to a specific type of devotion from that friend. It is jealousy, and it is possessiveness, but it doesn’t always arise from romantic feelings) 

Growing up in a patriarchal society means that your desires are always filtered through what men want from you, sometimes in an abstract male gaze-y way, and sometimes in a very visceral and interpersonal way when a boy wants you specifically. And Katara’s reactions are just that — reactions. Reactions to what other people — including Aunt Wu, Sokka, Aang himself — have insinuated about her and Aang. She’s not really proactive in her interest in Aang: we don’t really see Aang, romantically, from Katara’s POV. Under the framework of “Katara is reacting to a romantic prospect she’s kind of uncertain about,” it is completely plausible — and indeed likely — that she would sometimes act in ways that indicate romantic interest, in addition to moments where she indicates the opposite. 

Ka/taang shippers often bring up other evidence, like Katara’s despair when Azula hits Aang with lightning, or how protective she is of him when Zuko joins the Gaang. The thing is, these pieces of evidence aren’t necessarily indicative of romantic love. The fact that Katara genuinely loves Aang makes the whole thing more complicated, not less, because — especially at that age, especially when Aang is twelve years old and grew up in a sex-segregated society of monks — it is really difficult to tell the difference between platonic love and romantic love. Their mutual devotion is layered and complex yet straightforward in its sincerity. What was not straightforward, until the last five minutes of the show, is whether this devotion on Katara’s end is romantic. The romantic arc for Katara and Aang is not really an arc, as Sneezy discusses in this classic ZK video. Katara actually becomes more conflicted over time and we never see an event that clarifies her feelings. She seems more interested in him in The Headband than on the Day of the Black Sun, and she has never been more hostile to his romantic overtures than in the penultimate episode. 

And in light of this, it’s pretty easy for fans to fill in the blanks with a different interpretation: maybe Katara’s weird expression after their kiss at the invasion means she didn’t enjoy it; maybe the kiss made her realize that she doesn’t actually feel that way about Aang; maybe against her will and her better judgement, she’s developing feelings for another person, a person who hurt her and whom she fervently tried to hate until he pulled off what is in my opinion the greatest grovel of all time in the form of a life-changing field trip. Maybe. Am I saying that Zutara has more romantic interactions than Ka/taang? Of course not. But ironically, the lack of romantic interactions means that it’s not inherently one-sided, the way Ka/taang became in the latter half of season 3.

I’m not arguing that Katara’s unequivocally not into Aang. Obviously the text declares that she is, because they get married and have kids. But I am saying that there’s a very good reason that so many people, especially women, see Katara’s interest in Aang as ambiguous. It’s not because we can’t pick up “subtle” hints of growing affection. It’s because we know not all affection is romantic, and it’s really easy for someone else’s insistent romantic intentions to muddle what you want.

P.S. I first started thinking about these topics (platonic vs romantic love, desiring someone vs wanting to be desired, etc) in the context of compulsory heterosexuality, a term describing how queer women contort themselves into relationships with men even if they’re not really into men. I saw a post a few days ago joking about why so many queer women seem to be into Zutara. I wonder if part of the reason is because as queer women, we are very sensitive to the ways in which we can talk ourselves into wanting things we don’t actually want, and Katara’s romantic interest in Aang can be easily seen that way. 

[starlightsearches]

Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!

Jealousy, Jealousy

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!

thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖

Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄

You're fuming in the front seat.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.

"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."

They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.

Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.

"To you."

"What?"

"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."

Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.

You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.

But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.

If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.

That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.

Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.

Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.

He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.

. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.

He wishes you'd smile at him now.

"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"

"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.

You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.

"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”

Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.

Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.

“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”

“It’s different," you snap back quickly.

Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.

You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"

He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."

It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.

He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.

"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"

You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.

He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.

"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"

You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."

Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.

Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.

"Stupid how?" he asks.

You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."

It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.

"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.

You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?

Is Valerie as delusional as he is?

"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"

Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.

"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."

It wasn't a no.

He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.

It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.

Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.

You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.

Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.

You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.

There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.

Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.

But it's you.

You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.

"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."

He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.

"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.

He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."

Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.

And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.

Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.

“So you blew both of us off, then?”

He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.

“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.

You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.

“Why are you here, Eddie?”

“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.

The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.

“What’re you sorry for?”

What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.

“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”

Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.

For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.

You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.

But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.

And he knows he can't take that.

"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"

But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.

That's a fucking record.

He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.

Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.

Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.

And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.

"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"

Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.

Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.

But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.

He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.

And Eddie goes back to staring.

This time, though, you're staring back.

He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.

And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.

Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.

"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"

Eddie just shrugs.

"Probably something stupid."

You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.

You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.

It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.

He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.

Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"

You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."

It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.

Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.

"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"

You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.

"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."

He hums. "Stuff?"

You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.

But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.

Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"

"About what, Eds?"

"Why you're so mad at me . . ."

You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.

And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.

"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."

You don't get to finish your sentence.

Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!

Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.

So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.

"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.

"Hey—"

There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.

Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.

The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.

He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.

"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."

There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.

It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.

You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.

Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.

Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.

"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"

"Fuck off."

Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.

There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.

It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.

"I'm down here."

You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.

You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.

He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.

"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."

"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."

The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.

Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"

"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."

He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."

You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.

"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."

"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.

"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."

In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.

He was definitely missing out.

There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.

"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."

[xxsabitoxx]

My Personal Hashira 🍆 Size Ranking

Warning: if it ain’t obvious, this contains smut lmao — therefore Muichiro is 100% not included in this. We’re talking about 🍆, length, girth, all the fun stuff. So if PPs make you uncomfortable keep on scrolling babes </3

A/N: these low key stress me out cause I feel like people can get pretty defensive over these types of Headcanons. Especially if my own thought differs from yours. Regardless, these are just my personal takes/HCs. My word is not law so do not be upset if my HC does not match yours / don’t feel the need to change how you HC these things to fit my POV. This is why I refrain from describing size in my fics, I want y’all to imagine it in a way that you like lololol

Lastly, idgaf if you see some of this as unrealistic, these are fake, fictional drawings of men, if I wanna give Gyomei a 44ft long 🍆, I can and will (I didn’t but you get the point.) Anyways enjoy my personal thoughts on this matter

1. Himejima Gyomei

Is anyone fucking shocked that this 7’2 (220cm) man is packing the biggest schlong among the male Hashira?

I mean let’s be logical real quick, his dick is as big as the rest of him. This man’s dick is dragging on the floor.

Soft: 11.2

Hard: 12.3

Call it unrealistic idgaf this man is LONG

Girthy too, he’s fucking beefy all over

This man’s dick will feel like he’s shoving his wrist up in there ong bro

It curves downward slightly when hard, I mean shit that thing is heavy, it stands no chance against gravity

2. Uzui Tengen

Again, the man is 6’6 (198cm).

Height comes into play when it comes to our two tank Hashira

Therefore none of you should be surprised that they are the top two

Soft: 9

Hard: 10.3

Your guts are getting rearranged, he knows the length he has but often underestimates how far he can go…

He’s long but doesn’t have a crazy girth to him, which thank fuck it doesn’t take as much prep to take him

He’s pretty straight when hard and manages to flex it and keep it up (he totally does dick tricks & you can’t convince me otherwise)

3. Tomioka Giyu

I’m standing by my “big dick Giyu” head canon. I just know this man is packing a weapon down there

What’s crazy is he wasn’t even aware of how good he had it until he overheard other corps members chatting

Soft: 6.3

Hard: 7.4

He’s got a decent girth and as weird as it may sound, it’s pretty, like really pretty to look at

When hard, it curves upwards and stands at attention which makes him a bit embarrassed

He knows how to use it, because of that he’s pretty confident in that aspect which is wild for him

He will also rearrange your guts unintentionally (or intentionally hehe)

4. Shinazugawa Sanemi

I don’t wanna hear one PEEP from any of you that Sanemi should be above Giyu.

My man is forth on the list but that ain’t mean shit, he’s still got a lot going on down there

Soft: 6

Hard: 7

He’s girthy, will tear you up girth, needs thirty minutes of prep minimum because of how wildly he fucks girth

He sticks straight out, no curve in sight and honestly looks like he defies gravity.

He’s like Tengen, can do dick tricks. But unlike Tengen he doesn’t make that known / show you lmao.

He’ll break your back, he may even hurt you (fully unintentional) if he gets too into it. That thing is fr a weapon

5. Rengoku Kyojuro

He’s fifth on the list but trust me he’s not lacking

He’s second smallest, but he’s not small, if you get what I mean. It’s kinda like how we rank the Hashira weakest to strongest but regardless they are still the strongest in the corps… that make sense?

Soft: 5.8

Hard: 6.8

He curves upwards, very prominent veins running along his shaft (heh, shaft)

Girth wise, he’s about normal. Not too intimidating but def offers you a good stretch, forgoing prep is real bold tbh

He’s a quick learner so he quickly masters how to fuck you

He will strive to go as far as your body will let him, so expect to be bruised / sore

6. Iguro Obanai

My king. He may be “smallest” among the Hashira men, but that doesn’t mean shit.

He’s not self conscious of his dick, he knows how to use it. He’s also pretty content with it’s size

Soft: 5.6

Hard: 6.5

See? You can’t come for me cause he ain’t even SMALL

Obanai’s dick is pretty, too. It curves upwards slightly, since he’s pretty pale, his veins are prominent

He’s got an average girth, he doesn’t need to prep you forever to get you ready. Which works in his favor cause he likes to “punish” you with no prep & going in raw

He can and will abuse your cunt, he’s not satisfied until you genuinely can’t walk without limping for a few days

[marionthegeek]

Stede is in the Gravy Basket, Izzy is Alive

The season 2 finale of Our Flag Means Death is odd.  It hits weird. I think I know why. And this is going to sound bananas, but give me a chance to explain.  Maybe you’ll agree.

It has a huge tonal shift. It seems to speedrun Stede and Ed’s romance. It feels like we’ve missed out on something from the end of episode 7.  The fight scenes and pirate plans are nonsensical, even for OFMD. And most egregiously, a prominent character is killed off in a way that feels disingenuous to his story arc, just for starters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  We need to go back to the beginning of season 2.  The season opens with Stede looking more piratey than ever. Beard, sash, earring… oh he’s his own fantasy of a real proper pirate.  He’s clashing swords with Izzy Hands and demanding to know where Ed is. He’s dreaming. In the dream he kills Izzy. He and Ed run into each other’s arms while screaming each other’s names. They crash into the surf. Ed says “I knew you’d find me, Babe.  I knew you’d find me, Love.” Stede keeps asking if they’re good. Ed dodges the question. Then Ed asked about the smell. Stede wakes up in a crowded room with farting and shushing roommates.

At first I thought the finale was supposed to be just a “satisfying” mirror to Stede’s dream. Stede and Ed call each other’s names and run into each other’s arms in a display that resembles a more grown up version of Stede’s dream fantasy. There’s some wild sword fighting not unlike Stede’s dream duel with Izzy. And Izzy dies.

It does mirror, but I didn’t find it satisfying. All of the characters except Stede feel flattened. Stede gets to make the heroic plan (that we never even hear) while there’s at least five pirates with better skill sets for it in the room. Ed, as Blackbeard, was described last season as “History’s greatest tactician”; Zheng Yi Sao conquered China; Jackie just took out a room full of British soldiers. Izzy and Auntie are right there. You could make arguments that Jim or Frenchie, or pretty much anyone could make a better plan. Then Stede says “It’s only suicide if we die,” which is horrible considering the plan gets Izzy killed.

Stede’s really the only person in that room who thinks Stede should be making the plans.  So I got to thinking, what if it's not just mirroring the dream? What if it is a dream? Last shot of episode 7 is an incoming cannonball. Maybe he’s unconscious.

Huge shout out to @Arty_Sunflowers on twitter (I’m not calling it X, fuck Musk) for pointing out that that isn’t the only episode that ends with a cannonball. Episode 2 ends with Jim swinging a cannonball down at Ed’s head.  Stede’s not just dreaming, he’s in the Gravy Basket!!!! (Stede even screams “Oh my God!” at the end of episode 7 in the same tone he screams “Oh my God, I don’t want to die.” in s1e9.

Stede’s hopes, dreams, and insecurities shape everything in the finale. And it helps explain the absurdities in the episode when you remember that Stede is living out pulp adventure and romance novels in his head. (He even looks like someone on the cover of one in his episode 1 dream.) But Stede can’t be dead, you say. He’s literally the main character. Well, Ed was dead for a whole episode. Let’s take a closer look.

I could and probably will do another essay on Lucius as a POV character and Ed’s mental health and how the threads they seemed to have dropped aren’t as dropped as they appear. But all of that hinges on me proving the Stede is in the Gravy Basket theory. So for this essay I’m focusing on that.

So for starters we’ve got the cannonball scenes. They’re eerily similar even if the method of cannonball propulsion is different. We don’t know Ed is dead and in the Gravy Basket for about half of episode 3. Neither does he. It makes logical sense you can be there without realizing it for a while. Buttons even said Ed didn’t know whether he was in the Gravy Basket or not in episode 4. It definitely messes with your reality.

One of Ed’s issues is self hate. He manifests Hornigold as his companion. Stede is desperate to be a good pirate and have people be proud of him. And he lives in his fantasies a lot.  So his dream shapes his experience. There’s a whole bit about Zheng needing “soft” and Auntie saying she’s proud of her. That isn’t their issue. It’s discordant with the show previously. But it is Stede’s issue. He’s manifesting.

When we first see Stede and Zheng in episode 8, they’re in a familiar spot for Stede, the bridge from episode 1. But why are they alone? When we last see Stede and Zheng in episode 7, several characters are within 5 to 10 feet of them. Did none of them decide to escape with Stede? Izzy, Lucius,  and Jim are closest. But we know Pete was there begging Stede to stay down during his fight with Zheng. Archie was definitely in the bar. That's why Jim entered the fight. So why is it only Stede and Zheng at the bridge? Because, going back to rescue others fits into Stede's hero fantasies. 

Zheng and Stede also argue about who pulled who to safety and how they got there. Stede waxes poetic about being a failure his whole life, but things always seem to work out for him. He’s such a main character mediocre white guy in this scene. He saves Zheng from two random soldiers, then she has to save him from them. Then they fight a bunch more soldiers on the beach until Blackbeard manifests in full leather from the ocean.  It looks cool. But it's absurd, even for OFMD.

Speaking of Ed, he begins the episode waxing poetic about nature and calling fishermen simple.  Those things are more Stede than Ed. Pop pop tells Ed, “You have no skills” which is something Izzy said to Stede in episode 5.  He also tells Ed, “If you were ever good at something, go do that, you bum.” If Stede’s insecurities could be distilled into one sentence, it would probably be that. (He also talks about being like a wave. I’m not 100% sure it's a The Good Place joke, but it would be thematically appropriate.)

Pop pop also tells Ed he “ruined dinner.”  Back in season 1, in Stede’s flashbacks to life with Mary and the kids, Stede thinks he’s ruined dinner. But remember, we also see another version of the scene where Stede is laughing with Mary and the kids.  Stede isn’t exactly a reliable narrator. Even in his own head.

Despite it being beyond unlikely, Ed finds soldiers reading one of Stede’s letters. I know physics in this show is sketchy, but this seems like a good time to point out no one found the red silk. Stede wants Ed to read a letter and for it to fix everything between them. The letter, plus Stede being in danger, make Ed swim out, find his leathers, and emerge from the sea with them on, while the music is the Swede’s solo from Stede’s fuckery in s1e6. Stede wants to be rescued by his handsome pirate in leather, again, just like a pulp adventure romance novel. Little chance of Ed swimming out and finding his kit.  Even less of him getting leather pants on under the water.

Back to the beach… for some reason two squads of soldiers are wandering around out on an empty beach. A visually incredible fight scene occurs. It honestly reminds me of Pete’s story in s1e2, including flips. Ed and Stede yell each other’s names exactly as in the dream. Like I’m pretty sure they used the same audio track. The same song (I Love My Baby, Nina Simone) starts playing. Ed says “I love you.” Stede says “I know.” (We’ll come back to the Han Solo joke in a minute.) They have a bit more absurd fighting then Ed, Stede, and Zheng sit on the beach complimenting each other. And Ed calls Stede “babe”.  He’s never done that outside of Stede’s dream and this moment. He’s called him mate a couple of times.  Babe is exclusively in Stede’s head.

Back in the Republic of Pirates, the crew are locked in a cell that is actually the “vista suite” at Spanish Jackie’s.  Izzy gets a heroic entrance. It’s as cool as Stede thinks Izzy is. And he gives a speech that sounds like what he probably told Stede to get him to relinquish the suit in episode 5. Piracy is about belonging to something. You can’t ignore the wishes of the crew.  Izzy also knows details about Captain Kidd and Pinocchio. Not impossible, but not exactly Izzy’s wheelhouse. It is Stede’s though. He’s obsessed with pirate tales and he read Pinocchio to the crew.

Stede, Ed, and Zheng show up just as Jackie has poisoned a bunch of soldiers. Stede makes a plan, despite everyone else being more qualified. Everyone disguises themselves as soldiers. Now we’ve seen the crew of the Revenge wear disguises. They never do the weird free styling they do here. Only Stede actually looks like a British officer. Zheng at least wears the disguise properly. Suddenly Ed has a multi gun bandolier like Blackbeard in the books. Pete ripped the arms off. Izzy is still wearing his vest. Doesn’t make sense if we’re going for stealth. Neither does not checking hostage Ricky for weapons or putting Izzy and his wooden leg at the front of the group.

If I'm right, Stede wouldn't know Ricky was behind the explosions. However,  Ricky is basically evil Stede. He's Stede's perfect foil. All of this is reflecting Stede's psyche. So, of course, it's Ricky.

Izzy gets shot and says quite a lot of nonsense in his death scene. “They love you, Ed.” Um, 3 of them were going to leave like five minutes ago. Ed has made some progress with the crew, but we’re not at “they love you Ed”.  The only person who thinks the crew loves Ed is Stede. Stede who weeps for Izzy while most of the crew aren’t showing much emotion. Stede can barely deal with his own big feelings. His fantasy doesn’t give the crew room to have them. Also, given the rest of the season, having Jim just let Ed be the person cradling Izzy doesn’t fit. The crew is also pretty stony at Izzy’s funeral.

I feel like it should be noted the last shot of Izzy in episode 7, he’s got one are around Jim and a hand on Lucius’s shoulder. He sat in Wee John’s lap in episode 6. Reactions to his death don’t make sense.

Also, Izzy’s terrible grave marker is very … Stede. He’d think it was a brilliant idea.

I didn't understand at first why Izzy had to die, even in Stede's dream world. Stede clearly likes him a lot better now. Why kill him? Well, it's because we're supposed to think Buttons is there to go to the Gravy Basket for Izzy. When actually he's already arrived in the Gravy Basket and he's there for Stede. Also, mentors die in pulp adventure novels. Stede sees Izzy as a mentor.

They go aboard the Revenge for Lucius and Pete’s wedding. It’s cute that the crew performs the ceremony, but I’d venture a guess that’s because Stede doesn’t know a captain should do it if it's legally binding. Stede does love the romance of it all.  The sudden uptick in monogamy is also very Stede. He barely understands monogamous relationships. Polyamory is beyond him.

Then Stede and Ed, who earlier told Zheng they’d help hunt Ricky, go back to the island where Izzy is buried to start an inn in a run down shack.  Stede knows Ed wants to do this because Ed told the (Taika’s) kids that they ran an inn.  We hear Ed ask “Jesus, what is that smell?” Now, at first, I thought Izzy, because Ed “knows the smell of my rotting first mate”. But what was the last thing to happen in Stede’s dream? A fart joke.

Last scene is Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave. To retrieve Izzy from the Gravy Basket? No, Izzy’s not dead. He’s with Jim and Lucius, probably watching over Stede’s corpse. Buttons is there to retrieve Stede.

This theory fixes the plot holes and dropped threads problem. We’re coming back to them next season. Ed's amends making should be far from over. And we see several moments during the season where he acknowledged that. And yet here on the island they've set up a horror movie and called it a happy ending.  Well, Stede is the type of boss who thinks things are fixed with a pizza (Calypso) party. In Stede's mind, this is a happy ending.  But really Ed is still off finding himself,  Stede is (temporarily) dead, and Izzy (who is not dead!) is probably guarding Stede's corpse.

They haven't resolved the domestic violence thread, but they haven't dropped it, either. Izzy is alive. Stede and Ed aren't together (yet). There's still time.

This also explains some of the freewheeling nonsense David Jenkins has been spouting in articles. Ed doesn’t see Izzy as a father figure and mentor, Stede does.  Stede almost turned to mush when Izzy approved of him. And David is writing a three volume adventure novel. Han Solo (Stede) is in carbonate (the Gravy Basket). The perfect end to the second act. See, I told you we’d get back to the Han Solo joke.

I still have problems with the season.  I really think they need a sensitivity reader. Even just implying a newly disabled character was fridged is certainly a choice. Especially given the amount of time devoted to how the character handled the disability. The DV scenes were brutal, as well as the suicide attempt, and the Human Puppet joke. I think they need someone trauma informed and disabled in the writer's room. (David Jenkins hit me up!)

Overall, I liked season 2. Especially once I realized Izzy wasn't dead. I'm looking forward to season 3, the conclusion of the Gentle Beard arc, and hopefully 6 seasons and a movie of Izzy (to be clear, he's not captain) and the kids sailing up and down the coast being gay and doing crimes, occasionally checking in with Stede and Ed.

Seriously, David, call me.

Historical Note: IRL Blackbeard died on November 22, 1718, killed in a naval battle off Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. IRL Stede Bonnet died December 10, 1718, hanged in Charles Town, South Carolina for piracy.  IRL Israel “Izzy” Hands survives piracy, death date unknown. I know this show doesn’t actually care about historical accuracy, but this lends a little support for my Ed died, then Stede died, and Izzy isn’t dead theory.

[just-j-really]

One of these days I'm going to write a 5+1 "Hob's students gossiping about him" fic, where they notice a bunch of "he's immortal" weirdness he has going on, and interpret it completely incorrectly. Like the list of "Dr. Gadling's Possible Deal" Goes:

Escaped victim of a cult (he's got no family to speak of; he's implied several times that he didn't receive any formal schooling until he was well into adulthood; he misses a lot of the Obvious Childhood References someone his age should get and once said they didn't have TV when he was a kid even though he can't be older than 40)

Former hitman in witness protection (the missing family thing again; he's deeply cagey about his past when asked directly but will offhandedly make some deeply concerning remarks; and anyone who's seen him legitimately angry will tell you that he's scary. Yes, that Gadling. I wouldn't have believed it either.)

Guy pulling a scam like in Catch Me if You Can (nobody can make the timeline of 'he's got a PhD' line up with the seventeen other careers he's alluded to having, including what sounds like a pretty long stint in the military, so clearly he's been scamming his way into interesting careers since he was a teenager and then running when it looks like he'll get caught)

The human version of a failed service dog (started as someone jokingly suggesting that he was supposed to be some sort of fantasy Chosen One but refused the call, and that's why he's got all this esoteric knowledge about the past/knows how to swordfight/treats the idea of Actual Magic, if it's brought up, with this air of 'yeah shit happens sometimes'- but he treats everyday things such as 'microwaves' and 'ibuprofen' like legitimate miracles. Then a bunch of people went "Yeah, 'He was Kidnapped by the Fae for Unknowable Purposes' makes as much sense as anything else on this list" and it stuck.)

Ghost ("That's why he hangs around the New Inn looking sad all the time!!! He's a ghost caught in a loop!!! It makes perfect sense!!!")

The +1 is, obviously, someone asks him directly what his deal is and he says "Oh, I'm immortal" and not one person believes him.

There are two options for how Dream fits into this fic. One is that the Professor Gadling's Deal debate is rocked to the core by the appearance of a man in all black who is, depending on who you ask: another former cult victim he's finally been reunited with; someone from his old life trying to drag him back and/or assassinate him; a detective investigating his crimes; or the fae who did the kidnapping. The 'ghost' theory is shaken too badly by the man's appearance to hold up, since suddenly Gadling isn't sitting in the New Inn being sad all the time, he's sitting in the New Inn all the time flirting with... whoever that guy is.

The other option is that the fic is told from the POV of one of Gadling's students, explaining the Professor Gadling's Deal debate to the new kid.

She does not understand why this Murphy guy started laughing so hard midway through her explanation.

[cassiopeialunax]

Faster n Harder- Matt Sturniolo

I can't fucking stand him. the constant eye fucking me through the window is driving me insane, how does he get to do this to me? he doesn't even know me! it's infuriating!

*FLASHBACK*

"Y/N! WE HAVE NEW NEIGHBOURS!" my roommate, Sabrina, yells to me. "and that's my business, how?" i retort, in all honesty I couldn't give two shits about the new neighbours, for all i care, they can suck my dick, "girl, they're triplets! and ones gay, he can join girls night!" Sabrina squeals, why's she so happy about this? "no thanks, I'm antisocial" i state before throwing myself onto my bed "now disappear, I'm tryna watch my beautiful self in Cobra Kai" i say as I wave her off  "Y/N, girl, you might wanna close those curtains of yours, Matt, the middle triplet, he's gonna be in the room opposite your window, and we ALL know how you walk around your room in literally just a bra and mini shorts" she giggles at me before skipping out of my room. "BECAUSE IT'S HOT OUT!" i yell before reluctantly getting off of my bed, accidentally making eye contact with the boy next door, he types on his phone before holding it up to the window 'Cute bra, the bow really adds detail' I read from the screen "WEIRDO!" i yell before closing the curtains

*PRESENT DAY*

"Y/N, IM INVITING PEOPLE OVER!" Sabrina yells, it's muffled for me, I'm listening to straight bangers, 6arelyhuman please wife me up.

"So I party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar!" i sing along to the song , my hands running up and down my body as i dance around my bedroom, 80s rock bands (such as, Mötley Crüe, Guns n Roses, Metallica etc etc) tapestrys and posters littered across the walls, before settling down at my vanity and reapplying a couple layers of black lipstick, "Cause I go faster and harder, faster and harder" the lyrics echo through my room, I toss the lipstick back into my makeup bag before walking over to my closet "black, black, black, white, black, black, pink? when did that get there?" i mumble to myself as I flick through articles of clothing "aha! finally" i squeal as I grab a 'Sex Pistols: The Filth and The Fury' tank top, pairing it with some denim mini shorts and neutral grey Air Jordan 1's

"p-p-p-p-party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar, everyday i go hard riding in my sports car" i sing along to the song as I pull the outfit on.

{MATTS POV}

the neighbour, Sabrina I think her name is, just invited me and my brother's over, i already know her roommates here because I can hear her fucking music, she has this thing where it's never loud enough, normally I wouldn't care, but it's always sexual songs, yesterday it was 'Yummy- Ayesha Erotica' and 'Or Nah- The Weeknd' and now? 'Faster n Harder' I don't even know who it's by, but it's driving me insane, she's always dancing along to it too, how do I know? because her curtains are always open, no matter what, it's like she wants me to stare...

"Matt, kid, you good?" my brother, nick, asks me, snapping me out of my thoughts, "yeah, uh, where's the bathroom at? I've gotta fuckin piss" i ask Sabrina, she points upstairs and tells me it's the first door on the right, as I walk up the stairs the music gets louder, should I go in? no that's fucking weird Matt don't be a freak.....

"party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar!" her voice echoes

...fuck it

{Y/N POV}

the vibe is fucking ruined the second my door opens, Matt? what the fucks he doing here "ew perv! get out of my room, what are you doing here! actually don't answer that I don't give a fuck! get out!" i say as I shove him out, only resulting in him pinning me against the wall, my hands above my head as he holds them there, 'whys this hot at fuck?' ew gross, don't think that

"ever since I moved next door you have been constantly teasing me, and now? now I'm gonna do something about it" he says as he stares into my eyes, his pupils blown, the look of lust covering his face "oh yeah? what're you gonna do? huh?" i taunt "well first, I'm gonna rip those pretty little shorts off of you, then I'm gonna tear that shirt off, and then I'm gonna bend you over and fuck that perfect little pussy of yours" he says, and holy fuck I am drenched.

his hands reach the button of my shorts, frantically undoing the zipper and unbuttoning them before shoving them down my legs "arms up" Matt commands, his voice rough and eager, I do as he says, i want this, scratch that, need this, he pulls my shirt off and tosses it across my room before shoving me onto the bed "you were right.. you do look like a pornstar" he says as his eyes scan my body "turn around, face down ass up" I comply, rolling onto my stomach and arching my back, *slap* his hand connects with my ass, the pain mixing with pleaser causing me to whimper "shhh pretty girl, don't want anyone hearing us do we?" he says, lowly "please" i beg "please what? Y/N, what do you want? you want me to fuck you?" he coos in a condescending manner "shut up, I'm not fucking saying it" i say as i roll my eyes "only time your eyes are gonna be rolling is when im fucking you, is that clear?" matt growls as he unbuckles his belt and kicks the door shut "whatever" i scoff before his belt connects with my ass "careful, or I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you" he warns. "do it pussy, you won't" i challenge, gasping as I feel his tip rub against my soaked panties "I'm gonna fucking ruin you" he whispers into my ear before tearing my panties off of me and slamming into me, giving me no time to adjust "aye dios mio!" i cry out "shut the fuck up, we don't need everyone knowing how much of a whore you are for me" Matt mutters as he covers my mouth, his hips slapping against my ass as he plunges in and out of me. "f-fuck Matt, fucking me so good" i moan, my voice muffled by his hand "yeah? you like me fucking you like the slut you are?" he asks as he snakes his hand around my waist and down to my clit, rubbing at it with a slow pace, before increasing it by an insane amount, my cunt clenching around his cock as a warm sensation bubbles up in my lower stomach "oh my god" i whimper "not god, me" matt says as he pounds into me, hitting my G-spot perfectly "fuck! Matt I'm so close" i moan, he slaps my ass again "hold it." he demands as he takes his hand off of my mouth and wraps it around my neck "open your eyes sweetheart, want you to watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you" he groans as he presses wet kisses to my neck, i look into the mirror, immediately making eye contact with him as he grabs my hair and yanks me up, my back pressing against his chest as he repeatedly fucks into me faster and harder "Matt im begging you, please let me cum, i need to cum, i cant hold it anymore" i plead, tears of pleasure rolling down my face "let go for me pretty girl, give me all you got" Matt groans as he somehow thrusts into me faster.

I let out an almost pornographic moan as I cum over his cock, my legs shaking and my eyes rolling back, i feel him twitch inside of me, "where do you want it?" he asks, his voice low and breathy, "inside, please, need it inside of me" I blabber, that's all Matt needs to hear as his warm seed shoots into me, ropes and ropes of hot sticky cum coating my walls as he moans into the nape of my neck, thrusting into me a couple more times before pulling out "fuck, i should've done that sooner" he chuckles lowly as he presses a soft kiss to my head "lay down, beautiful, I'll clean you up" Matt whispers as he walks into the bathroom grabbing a cloth and turning the warm water on, coating the cloth with it before making his way back to me "feelin' okay?" Matt asks as he presses soft kisses to my inner thighs before gently wiping the towel over my sensitive pussy "yeah" i whisper "c'mon, we can cuddle and watch some shitty movie" Matt says as he lays beside me, pulling my black silk sheets over us and wrapping his arm around my waist...

thank god sabrina invited them over today

the outfit I described because the link is being a cunt:

TAGLIST !!

@nedsmarie44 @hoesformatt @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @mattslolita @ssqra @mattsivy @luverboychris

[mikalame]

Pick- up

going out on a limb here lol havent written smut in god knows but i had this idea like ages ago and just wanted to write it down. please dont judge this kinda made me cringe a couple times lol

warnings: SMUT, phone masterbation, R.I.P Bill

Toms POV

"Fuck ___ pick up, pick up, pick up" Tom mutters into his phone the high pitched call ringing in his ear. The sound turning off and the beeping of a missed call is now echoing in the quiet room. Tom looks over to check if Bill is still asleep, the only think tom can see is his brothers back facing him on the single bed across the room.

Tom breaths a sigh of relief, if Bill knew what Tom really wanted he would be kicked out and made to sleep in the hallway as ___ wasn't picking up, Gustav and Georg love their privacy way to much to want Tom to sleep in their rooms so that was a no go as well.

"Fuck sakes" Tom groans, he lifts his bed sheets to see if his hard on is getting any softer but to no avail. Another time this would be great, he could go sneak into ___ room fuck her to his hearts content give her a quick little i love you kiss then sneak back before Bill and the others wake up.

But no, it just had to be on the day where they all had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn. Looking to his bed side table the clock flashing 11: 15 pm, not to late into the night but everyone is probably trying to get some rest of the big day tomorrow including ___.

Deciding to give it one more call he reaches for his phone chucked somewhere in his messed up sheets. Scrolling quickly to try and find her number in his phone catalogue, groaning quietly when his boxers rub against his sensitive cock.

"Please, please,please, pick up ___, god" he groans feeling a tad bit guilty about waking her up but god did he need help right now. As the beeping sound of a missed call sounds again he groans giving up hope that she would pick up.

'Bing' his phone rings. Toms head whips over to his phone, flipping it open and seeing that he had a new message from ___ his heart pumping wondering if he was actually going to do this, but the quickly making up his mind as he had now dragged ___ into his problem.

___ POV

The ringing of my phone wakes me up again. I roll my eyes getting annoyed at who ever keeps ringing me at such a late hour. One more ring goes off and i groan if frustration and snatch my phone from the bedside table.

I shut my eyes tight as the blinding lights flash me, as i get used to the brightness and can actully see whats on the tiny screen i see its from my boyfriend Tom with like a bazillion calls next to his name.

I get the reason Bill spilt us up, not wanting to her the headboard slam against the shared wall or the gasps and moans as we fuck each other to over stimulation but oh well. It does feel weird not having Toms warm body pressed against my back, his wandering hands running up and down my thing or his soft breath on the back of my neck but i digress.

Texting him quickly the letters on my screen pop up slowing, still groggy from just waking up but i manage to get a go enough sentence to send.

Me- Hey babe whats up why you ringing to late at night??? Tom- Please i need you, ive had this boner for like ages and it wont go away please help. Me-Really Tom a boner you woke me up in the middle of the night cause your horny Tom- Yes baby i know it sound stupid but its so sentitive right now and i cant bare it please Me- Why dont you just jerk off then? Tom-yeah but i dont got any sexy pictures of you on my phone to use and i get to distracted to make anything up in my head, can you just call me please

You furrow your eyebrows in amusement before another ding went off, wondering what Tom has to say now you open the chat log and see Toms cock standing tall, tip swollen and red, pre dripping from it already. You wont lie but seeing his dick even with the shitty lighting from the camera flash gives you that warm feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

Tom- please baby, i cant take it no more

He types in the chat. Your a bit confused as to what to do, wondering if he wanted to come into your room as him and bill are sharing a room and that wound be weird or if he wanted to have phone sext which your havent done before.

Me- So do you want to come over to my room or what?? Tom- To risky bills got some sorta fancy security thing set up on the door to make sure i didnt try and come to yours well just call okay Me- Wont Bill hear you on call though? Tom- I'll be quite baby dont worry

is the last text you get before the phone rings again. Not waiting another second you pick up that call, flicking your bedside table lamp on and sitting up against the headboard, your thighs tightening in anticipation.

Hearing a groan from the other side of the call you assume Tom has already started to try and get rid of his problem. You hear shilick noises which you can guess if Tom working his hand up and down before another low groan reaches your ears.

"Hey baby"Tom whispers a slight chuckle at the end, "Hey Tommy, really that bad is it?" you giggle finding this all a bit to amusing."Fuck you have-mmh no idea" he groans half way through talking "say some thing baby- need to hear- ngh- need to hear you noise fuck please, talk about - anything ugh" tom moans in a hushed noise.

You hear the bed creak through the phone wondering if he was thrusting up into he hand, the same way he does when you give him blow-job. Not having a clue what to say you just repeat things you have heard him say when hes close to cumming, words flowing out of his mouth as the high hits him.

"Fuck~ ___, need you so bad" he voice pitched higher then before his hand jerking him off faster." What do you want tom huh? you want my mouth to suck you off or just my hands maybe both though i bet you would like that" hearing a louder groan from the other side signalling to you that he was getting closer you keep going. "Yeah you like that, face fuck me, making me choke on your dick hmm".

Toms POV

Fast gasps come out of my mouth the knot in my stomach getting bigger, i move you phone to rest between my ear and my shoulder and move my other hand to my balls kneading them slowly. The extra movement adding to the stimulation my body starts heating up and i feel myself get closer.

___ spewing words into my ear, the sanarios of want we could be doing if there wasnt a wall between us carring me furter to my climax. I grip my cock harder aswell as my balls going faster letting out a few loudish moans quickly looking over to bill to see if hes woken up but his body still relaxed and not moving.

"Fuck ___-ngh- im gonna-Fuck!" you groan into my phone, my body tensing, my hips rising further to meet my hand, my back arching with my eyes rolling back as the high hits me hard. I bite onto my bottom lip really not wanting Bill to wake up at this point, fisting my dick again riding out my high i let a few moans out just to let ___ know that i was cumming.

As my body slumps back down onto my bed i let go of my now softening cock letting it rest on my lower stomach. Letting my breath get back to normal and cleaning up my cum before talking to ___.

"Thank so much babe, fuck i really needed that" i say with a much clearer tone "No problem babe, i hope you know that your gonna have to fuck me in the morning i don't care when but this phone sex thing god it hot, but id rather have you fuck me then listen over the phone of you get what i mean" she giggles.

We quickly say our good bye as i try and get some sleep, looking back at Bill seeing his back turned i can only pray that he didn't wake up, my eyes drifting to the clock flashing 11:39. I pull my body deeper into the bed my eyes only now feeling heavy as i slowly drift of to sleep.

TIME SKIP

I wake up the sun barely up but lighting up the room enough without lights looking towards bill bed seeing he not there must mean he up and about probably in a very pissy mood but still. Grabbing my socks and slipping them on i walk around to ___ room, seeing shes not there i raise my brow. I walk to Gustavs next, no one there i huff walking down the corridor all the way to Georg room, knocking a few times before jiggling the door handle to see if it was unlocked it was....

Opening the door i was met with everyone's faces: Bills face scrunched in disgust, Gustav mouth hanging open, Georg looking like he was about to die if he kept his laughter in any longer which seemed to be right as he busted out laughing clutching his stomach. ___ face in her hands i get the gist that ether ___ told them about our call or Bill woke up and told them.

"You couldn't of waited!" Bill shouts, my question getting answered. "Hey my plan was to go to ___ room but you had that fancy lock on so" i say not caring to much i grab a coke from the fridge and sit down next to ___ opening it a placing my arm around her shoulder giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I told you he was gonna wake up" she says leaning her head on my shoulder as we watch Bill rant about last night with Georg dieing from laughter and Gustav in shock. "Oh well, he'll get over it" i chuckle taking a sip from my coke.

YALL i hope you liked please leave requests they are open 😁

Taglist @oppopotamus@adissonsss@violentnewmarley@saumspam

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry would text- (Fem Friend Reader) PART 3

Warnings- mentions of smut, knifeplay, sexting, fearplay, confessions to murder.

If you guys like this, I’ll make an extended version, where I write a story in Y/n’s pov that happens after this texting story:)

The Ballad Of Terror

Y/n: hey loser

Ethan: Loser? that’s new.

Y/n: but true

Ethan: no good night text, bunny?

Y/n: ugh stop calling me that. I promise I don’t jump that weird.

Ethan: in PE class you look like a rodent

Y/n: shut up

Y/n: I want something else first before you get your good night text

Ethan: let me guess. You need homework answers?

Y/n: I don’t get anything in science. I don’t even know what a molecule is.

Ethan: luckily I’m smart.

Y/n: luckily.

Ethan: click to view

Y/n: thank u <3

Ethan: np.

Ethan: hey, how are you and David doing together?

Y/n: why?

Ethan: I’m just curious

Y/n: maybe being curious isn’t always the right thing to be

Ethan: I’m your friend who wants you to be happy.

Y/n: I am happy

Ethan: with David?

Y/n: why are you asking that like david can’t make me happy?

Ethan: because I don’t think he could

Y/n: he does.

Ethan: oh, yeah?

Y/n: yes.

Ethan: as in, present tense?

Y/n omg yes

Y/n: why do you care so much?

Ethan: you broke up with him last night.

Y/n: how did you know that?

Y/n: Ethan??

Y/n: who told you

Ethan: no one told me.

Y/n: then why the fuck do you know?

Ethan: I watched you get that text. You cried over your bedside table.

Ethan: don’t leave me on read

Ethan: cmon

Y/n: how do you know

Ethan: I watched you through the window.

Y/n: you’re my friend

Y/n: this is scaring me

Ethan: Don’t be scared. Remember when you told me that you loved the real me?

Y/n: yes.

Ethan: this is the real me.

Y/n: a stalker?

Ethan: For you,

Ethan: Yes.

Y/n: if you were watching me, what was I wearing?

Ethan: That Ivy League shirt I bought for you in 2018.

Y/n: what pants, then ??

Ethan: oh, that’s the best part.

Y/n: please

Ethan: you weren’t wearing any

Ethan: you hiked your thighs to your chest

Ethan: you were wearing black panties

Y/n: you’re a fucking creep

Ethan: don’t be like that.

Y/n: how long has this been going on?

Ethan: How long have I been in love with you?

Ethan: or watching you sleep

Ethan: ?

Y/n: i should call the police. do you stalk other girls?

Ethan: you’re the only one for me

Ethan: nobody makes me feel the way you make me feel

Ethan: All those girls meant nothing to me. They couldn’t replace you.

Y/n: what girls?

Y/n: you’re a manwhore now?

Ethan: don’t be stupid. I didn’t fuck anyone

Ethan: I killed them

Y/n: im calling the police

Ethan: I disconnected the system from your number

Ethan: you can’t call anyone for help

Y/n: what do you want from me?

Ethan: Don’t you want to know?

Ethan: Why I did it?

Y/n: no

Ethan: I want to hurt you. Is that bad?

Ethan: it just turns me on so much

Ethan: to imagine you begging for me

Ethan: begging me not to slice you open

Ethan: fuck your brains out until your screaming my name

Ethan: i want to use you

Ethan: and you and I both know you would enjoy it

Y/n: you’re ghostface

Ethan: oh

Ethan: what gave it away ?

Y/n: you piece of shit.

Ethan: I don’t think you should insult me right now

Y/n: why? you gonna kill me??

Ethan: don’t tempt me.

Y/n: but apparently I already am. I’m basically asking for a knife to my throat, aren’t I?

Y/n: to watch your cock enter me as you choke me

Y/n: god, it would turn me on so much!!!

Ethan: I don’t take sarcasm too well

Ethan: if your asking for it, I’ll give it to you.

Y/n: im blocking you

Ethan: you can’t hide

Y/n: I’ll lock my doors. Get my parents to call the cops when they come back.

Ethan: your parents aren’t home?

Ethan: That changes things.

Y/n: I locked everything

Y/n: leave me alone

Ethan: why did you assume I was outside your house?

Y/n: please leave me alone

Ethan: let’s play a game of hide and seek, y/n.

Ethan: you run

Ethan: you hide

Ethan: and we’ll see if I can catch you.

Ethan: and if I do…

Ethan: god, I love making you my victim.

Y/n: Ethan please

Ethan: 3

Ethan: 2

Ethan: 1

Ethan: time to run, bunny.

🩷

[pastel-peach-writes]

Jealous or Attracted? | KorrAsami x Reader Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of you figuring out your feelings for KorrAsami.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: No Use of Y/n, Cursing, Not Proofread, Second POV, Lowercase Intended

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

(A/N): Requests are open for KorrAsami x Readers! Just check out my request rules before submitting! Request Rules!

– when you first met KorrAsami, they were dating each other.

– you already knew of Korra with her being the Avatar and everything and for Asami, you knew of her but only because of the drama that went down with her dad and Future Industries.

– you can't exactly remember how you met them, but you vaguely remember a party and Bolin, your closest friend, dragging you to it and insisting that you meet the rest of the Krew.

– Also, the fact that they call each other the "Krew" was so cute to you, you wanted in.

– and so there you saw Korra and Asami dressed in their best party wear, holding glasses of colored clear liquid and giggling with each other.

– At first, your stomach fizzed with butterflies but you assumed that was your jitters

– you didn't think the butterflies was because the two of them looked good enough to make your knees shake or your face burn. no, not at all!

– why would it anyways? You couldn't be attracted to a couple. that's weird. Like licking a flagpole and drinking a smoothie made of grass and boiled egg yolks. That's weird.

– and you weren't weird. (or at least not that weird).

– anyways, as the party went on, you got to know the two more.

– you got to know that Korra's a bit goofy and playful, that she isn't always the stubborn and hotheaded Avatar everyone knows her to be and you also figured out that Asami made her very shy, very easily.

– with how she acted towards the general public and threats, you thought Korra would be the one to make her significant other shy with flirts and cocky sentences, but it turns out that Asami was the one to. and she wasn't even flirting.

– Asami would give one smile and quip to Korra and the Avatar would melt like ice cream on a hot summer's day. It was cute, honestly but also made you ick on the inside.

– you didn't know why. you had nothing against the two and PDA, but seeing them flirt with each other gave you a certain pang in your chest.

– after the party's events, you found yourself getting closer and closer to the "Krew".

– you weren't close enough to consider yourself a part of Team Avatar but enough to be considered Team Avatar's friend.

– when you hung out with the Krew, you would linger around KorrAsami. Wherever they went, you went.

– Bolin teased you about this, naturally, being your best friend and all, but you denied the allegations he tried to make. --

"You have a crush on them!" "Please, I do not. I'm hanging out with them because i want to get to know them more. That's all."

"But you even laugh at their jokes. You never laugh at Mako's and I's."

"That's because you and Mako aren't funny."

"And Korra and Asami are?"

"Precisely." --

– And it was true. You didn't have a crush on them and they were funny.

– Korra and Asami have this type of humor that's unique to them. They feed off of each other and often make snarky remarks about inside jokes or shared experiences. Being a part of that was an accomplishment in its own.

– something would happen when you guys were out and about and you would share the same look.

– the only times the jokes got "bad" was when someone made the other laugh a bit louder than usual.

– like one time Korra made Asami laugh so loud and hard that she cried with a red face.

– the feeling that stirred in your stomach wasn't pretty. it was like whatever you had for lunch curdled and violently punched you in the gut over and over and over again.

– you would seethe every once and a while. Why was Korra making her girlfriend laugh upsetting you? It shouldn't matter what she does. She's her girlfriend and has the right to make her laugh. It would probably be more concerning if Asami laughed harder at your jokes.

– Right?

– It would be great to make Asami laugh like that though. Her sparkling green eyes come to a close as her eyes squint. Her hand would politely cover her lips with a hooked finger, further pushing the elegant and proper look she's made of herself. And even though her blush does this for her already, her cheeks would be redder from how hard you made her laugh.

– Isn't that normal for a homie to want? It was normal to want to share that experience with Korra; making Asami laugh. These were all normal things. Right?

– It had to be. It's what you thought about at night. Making Asami laugh, making Korra shy, holding their hands and nuzzling your nose against their cheeks. That's all very normal things to think about when it comes to your friends.

– you never thought that way about Mako or Bolin of course. They were like siblings to you so, they were sibling pretty. Not the weak-in-the-knees-heart-racing-platonic-pretty Korra and Asami were.

– Well, Bolin didn't think so. Deny all you want, say what you want, but he saw the way you looked at them.

– He saw how your eyes light up when they come over to talk to you or how cutely small and shy you'd get when they hug you at the same time. He saw how you would point them out in everything you see, even if you're not with them.

– Bolin knows you and apparently, he knows you better than you know yourself.

– He knew you so well that he could tell when you were jealous and he could tell when you were attracted.

– when you were jealous: when their PDA gets too much, when they walk away together, when they make inside jokes, when they call each other "babe", and when they prefer each other over anyone else in the Krew.

– when you were attracted: when their attention is on you, when they talk to you one-on-one (mano-y-mano as Bolin referred), when they would hug you or take you out as a trio, when they compliment you, when they spring into action or act serious, and so much more that Bolin could write a whole book about your attraction towards the pair.

– Honestly, Bolin understood the attraction. He had a crush on Korra once. Mako too! In fact, everyone in the Krew had a crush on her so the fact that you had a crush on her (and her girlfriend) just met you're officially a part of their friend group now. Yay!

– now, Bolin never told you that he's aware of the crush you had on the pair but he would hint at it with suspicious winks, wiggles of his brows, and jokes that confused everyone else but you.

– "Yeah, red and blue sure are attractive colors, huh?" then he'd nudge you and you would freeze with a nervous smile.

– Mako, Asami, and Korra would have no clue what Bolin meant. Especially since they were talking about imprisoning war criminals when Bolin blurted. But hey, randomness is what Bolin is known for.

– A couple of weeks after that incident, you finally came to terms with yourself. You had to, the jealousy was getting too much that the girls were picking up on it.

--

"Whoa, you good?" Korra chuckled, noticing your glare after she kissed Asami's cheek. "You're uh, looking angrier than Mako on a good day." On a good day, you would tease her back but the feelings were too much.

The thoughts of holding them, kissing them (and not just on the cheek), and spending time with them was overwhelming and taking over every fiber of your being.

You couldn't watch them interact with each other without a firey burning in your chest and the clench of your fists. Also, you're pretty sure you've shaved a couple of centimeters off your teeth from all the teeth grinding you've been doing.

The girls have been giving you curious looks when you would glare in their direction. They'd awkwardly look at each other and then get away from your gaze to avoid confrontation.

Korra and Asami never assumed you were the type to judge their love, they didn't get that vibe from you, so it was a nerving surprise you got angry whenever they showcased public displays of affection.

"Yeah." You eased your shoulders from your ears. "I'm fine. Sorry. Just stressed."

"You must be chronically stressed then," Asami spoke as she slung an arm around Korra's shoulders. Your lips tensed at the sight. "Because you're always making faces or scowling nowadays."

"Yeah, you're doing it now actually," pointed Korra. You eased your lips again. Damn, it's like second nature to tense up or scowl whenever you see them interact. That wasn't healthy. At all.

These are your friends. By the expressions on their faces, you can see they're getting uncomfortable holding each other around you. Asami slowly moved her arm away from Korra with a frown and they tried not to show it, but they held each other's hands behind their backs.

Your friends had to hide their true selves from you because you're too afraid to admit your feelings.

Is this what you want? For them to be afraid and think you're someone or something you're not? Of course not. It was time to face the music. You have a crush on Korra and Asami.

Now, what are you going to do about it?

To be continued. | WC: 1,570

[lustfulslxt]

Only anon bc imma pussy…but like what if matt and them have been friends for a while and she find him like jerking off to pictures and shit. Or like pics that he took of her like bent over while she wasn’t looking🤭

Caught - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : slight masturbation, sex

—

Matt’s POV

It’s currently Friday night and we have the weekend off, so Y/N is spending the night with us. We usually just hang out, eat, play games, watch movies.

Y/N’s been our friend for a good few years, and we’re together a lot. If I’m being honest, she kind of drives me crazy. She’s so perfect and the simplest things she does, quite literally, make me hard.

“Can I pick the movie?” Chris asks, jumping over the couch, landing right next to me.

I shrug, “I don’t really care.”

Nick and Y/N both round the corner, and my eyes are immediately drawn to her. She’s wearing a little baby tee and some booty shorts. It’s not weird for her to be like that, we’ve all been best friends forever now. I’ve just been having new urges for a couple of months.

The two sit on the couch opposite of me and Chris. It’s hard to pull my eyes away from her, but I have to when Chris holds his hand out to me.

“What?” I ask him, raising my eyebrows.

“The remote. Do you not listen?” He retorts.

I only roll my eyes and hand him the remote from beside me. Before my gaze can return to Y/N, I quickly force myself to stare at the blank TV. I don’t know what it is, she’s just got me in some trance lately. Taking a deep breath to push my thoughts away, I roll my neck and shuffle in my seat.

“You good, Matty?” I hear her ask me, causing my head to snap in her direction.

“W-what? Why? I’m fine.” I ramble, before closing my eyes in frustration.

“You seem tense, kid.” Nick calls out.

I just ignore him, a small groan leaving my mouth. Why am I like this? What is this sick shit? I can’t get the thought of bending her over, while she takes all of me, out of my head.

With another heavy breath, I remove my hoodie as I’m beginning to get hot, and place it next to me. I can’t help but adjust myself in my seat again, feeling hot and bothered.

Of course, seeing as I have the worst self control, my eyes slowly trail back over to Y/N. She sat against the arm of the couch, one of her legs perched up, her foot flat with her knee against her chest, her other leg lying beneath that one. The position she’s in shows off her juicy thighs and encircles her core that’s covered by the thin fabric of her shorts. I can feel myself growing harder, wanting nothing more than to drag her back to my room and rail her senseless. Quickly, I grab my hoodie and place it on my lap to cover my now obvious erection.

“Dude!” Chris whisper shouts at me, “What the fuck is going on with you?”

My head shoots over to him in a panic, eyes frantic, wondering if he knows what’s going through my head right now. I can’t even form words, my breath stuck in my throat, so I just shrug and wave him off. My attention is pulled from him when I see Y/N stand up and head into the kitchen. Without thinking at all, I’m on my feet and following her.

When I round the corner, my footsteps come to a halt. There she was, bent over in the fridge. I suck in a breath, gasping at the sight in front of me. Her shorts were riding up her ass, her cheeks being completely visible, her shorts pressed tightly against her pussy. I felt like I wasn’t in control of myself as I pulled my phone out, bringing up my camera and snapping a picture of her. Just as I bring my phone back down, she turns around and locks eyes with me, my face immediately flushing.

“Hey.” She speaks, her voice soft. “Are you okay?”

I nod, gulping, “Can you toss me a water?”

She does so, a smile gracing her face in the process. I give her a small thanks and head back to my room, rather than the living room with the rest of them. I needed space to think without having her consume everything around me.

Once I shut myself in my room, I spread out on my bed, closing my eyes and sighing, completely overwhelmed with my feelings.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been an hour or so since the movie ended, everyone else was in their rooms, presumably going to sleep. I’ve just been scrolling through my phone, not really paying attention to anything on my screen as my mind was occupied elsewhere.

I can’t stop thinking about Matt; he seemed off tonight. I want to make sure he is okay, but so far, he’s only been lying and saying he’s fine. I know him better than that, I know he’s bothered by something, I just don’t know what.

Part of me wants to get up and go to his room, forcing him to talk to me. Another part is telling me to wait until he’s ready. Surely, it’s not too serious. As if the universe is telling me to go to his room, the ‘low battery’ notification pops up on my screen. My charger is in his room.

With a small huff, I remove my blanket from me and stand up from the couch, immediately heading towards his room. I figured he was probably sleeping like Nick and Chris, so I just quietly walk in. However, I couldn’t have been more wrong as he was definitely not sleeping.

His back was turned towards me, but I could see his right arm moving up and down as his head was slightly tilted back. It didn’t take a genius to realize what he was doing, so I just step backwards in an attempt to leave. As I’m about to turn out the door, his bright phone screen catches my eye. You would think he’s watching porn or something, but he’s staring at a picture. More so a picture of me. A picture of me from not even two hours ago.

“Matt!” I whisper shout, bewildered at the fact that he was jerking off to a picture that he sneakily took of me.

He jumps, flinching in embarrassment as he locked his phone and covered himself up. It took him a minute before he finally turned around to come face to face with me, his cheeks bright red.

“What are you doing in here?” He asks, his voice frantic as his eyes dart all around.

“I came to get my charger. What are you doing in here?” I reply, emphasizing my question. When he doesn’t answer, I continue, “I saw you, Matt.”

His mouth begins to open and shut, unsure of what to say. He closes his eyes and inhales, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You took a picture of me.” I state, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious by now.

He nods, licking his lips nervously. I could see that he was anxiously anticipating my reaction, but I didn’t even know what to do. What do you do when you’re turned on by your best friend touching himself to a picture he took of you?

I walk over to the bed and sit next to him, “Is this the first time you’ve done this?”

He avoids eye contact with me and shakes his head from left to right, indicating he’s done it before. He opens his phone up, and immediately scrolls to the next picture and, once again, it’s of me. I was wearing a bralette and a mini skirt that barely covered my ass. One of my legs was perched up on the table as I leaned forward to put on my shoe. My asscheeks were out and you could clearly see my lace underwear beneath the skirt.

“Damn, I look good.” I smirk, pleased with the photo.

“Yeah, you do.” He chuckles, immediately stopping and looking back at my face, trying to read my emotions.

“So, you’re fantasizing about me?” I question.

He bashfully nods, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why didn’t you just come to me?”

He shrugs, “And say what? Hey Y/N, so like, I kind of want to fuck the shit out of you.”

I blush, as if it isn’t obvious by the fact that he was jerking off to me, and mimic his shrug. “What if I wanted you to fuck the shit out of me?”

His eyes widen, thrown back by my statement. After taking a moment to recover, he scoots closer to me and softly grabs my face with one of his hands, bringing me closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, looking into my eyes for confirmation.

Instead of responding with words, I close the gap between us and press my lips onto him. The kiss is short and sweet, more so testing the waters. It only takes a second before we meet again, our lips lapping one another’s perfectly. He placed his free hand on my back, pulling me impossibly closer as my hands make their way to his hair. A soft groan erupts from his throat as I give his hair a nice tug, the sound of his sultry voice going straight to my core.

Gaining a new found confidence, Matt swiftly pulls me onto his lip and shoves his tongue in my mouth. He’s licking and sucking everything, swapping saliva. I can feel his dick bulging between my legs, fully rock hard. His hands meet my hips, grinding me against him, eliciting a moan from my lips.

“I want you so bad.” He groans into my ear as his lips work on my neck.

“Then take me.” I say, allowing him more access with a tilt of my head.

Like a flip switched, Matt quickly removes my shirt, leaving me topless in his lap. He groans at the sight of my bare chest, his hands bringing both of my boobs into his palms, squeezing them tenderly. He pinches both of my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, kneading them. Soft whimpers left my lips as he did so, his wet mouth also leaving kisses all over my neck.

My hands grab the hem of his shirt and I pull it over his head, connecting our lips once more after. His arm wraps around my back and he turns, laying me flat on his bed, taking position knelt above me, his mouth never leaving mine. His fingers hook in the waistband of my shorts, lingering as if waiting for approval, so I pull away and give him a nod when we make eye contact.

Within seconds, the rest of my clothes are on the floor and I lay bare in front of him. He’s on his knees, in between my legs, and his eyes are boring into me, his pupils blown out with lust. I can see his dick protruding from his boxers, begging to be released from its restrictions, eager for any kind of stimulation. He swiftly removes the piece of clothing, before laying down right beside me.

He pulls me into him, one of his hands on my face, the other on my bare ass. He slams his lips into mine, his tongue instantly swiping against my bottom lip, asking for entrance, to which I gave him. Our tongues battled for dominance, Matt shoving his in my mouth, exploring as much as he can while our teeth clash together. With every touch, I feel my arousal pooling between my legs, drenching my folds. Matt squeezes my ass, kneading it before his fingers trail closer to my opening. He reaches down to my pussy and swipes his fingers between my folds, emitting a moan from me.

“Mmm. You’re so wet for me.” He groans into my lips.

Without another word, he slides two fingers through my slit, immediately entering my hole. He swallows every moan that comes from my mouth as he kisses me, hard. His fingers continue pumping in and out, getting me ready to take him. My hand envelops his throbbing dick, squeezing as I pumped my hand, causing him to shudder and buck his hips.

“I want to be inside of you.” He groans, still bucking his hips.

“Please. I need you so bad, daddy.” I moan out as his fingers thrust back into me.

He swiftly removes his hand, shoving his fingers in my mouth as he rolls me over so that my back is against his chest. I suck on his fingers, cleansing them of my juices. He takes his hand from my mouth and wraps it around my throat at the same time he sinks himself into me. I can’t help them lewd moans that erupt from me. His hand moves from my throat to my hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling my head back, making me arch my back. His opposite hand grabs my leg and lifts it up to the side, giving himself better access as his thrusts pick up.

“Oh fuck.” I moan, my face scrunching up in pleasure.

He picks up the pace, railing in and out of me. He leans forward, his mouth meeting the side of my neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin. I can hear his low moans right in my ear and it was turning me on so much more.

“Shit. Feels s-so good, Matt.” I gasp, reveling in the way he’s making me feel.

His thrusts turn more aggressive, my legs now shaking and my breath catching in my throat. His grip on my hair tightens, pulling my head back even more. His eyes meet mine and he’s got a devilish smirk on his face.

“Nah, baby. What’s my name?”

With the way he’s pounding into me, I can’t even think straight. His hand reaches under my leg, using his forearm to keep it up, his fingers meeting my clit, and rubbing in fast, tight circles.

“What’s my name?” He repeats, his tone more demanding and aggressive.

“Daddy! Fu - fuck, daddy! Nghh.” I whine out, my body convulsing.

“Such a good girl. Cum for daddy, so I can fill you up.” He groans, keeping the exact same rhythm with his hand and hips.

My mind is hazy and I can’t hear anything but the sound of my rapid heartbeat as I let go. I shake and tremble, unable to keep my composure as pornographic moans leave my mouth. A moment later, I feel his hot cum shoot into me, loud moans escaping from him. He continues fucking into me, letting us ride out our highs.

He pulls out and drops my legs, immediately rubbing my hip and thigh, as if sensing the incoming charlie horse. After a minute, he flips me over to face him, staring into my eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just gazing at me, intensely. Suddenly a grin pulls to his lips and they’re meeting mine in a sweet and tender kiss.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” He asks, brushing the sweaty hair out of my face. “Then, maybe spend the night in here with me?”

“Sounds good.” I grin back, pulling him in for another kiss.

—

a/n : mixed feelings ab this, sorry if it’s not what you had in mind! hope you enjoy:) send in reqs 🫶🏼