#fucking hate this guy *draws him. draws him. draws h

[sunclown]

That one wizard from that one game and his cat 🔮✨

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale #gale of waterdeep #fucking hate this guy *draws him. draws him. draws h #tara #does she have a tag? #well she does now #i love u old cat lady #grabbing her and making her do shit my cats do #u just know his cowlick is gonna smell like cat breath #my art

[hairmetal666]

The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #fluff #mutual pining #matchmaking #secret admirers #pe teacher steve harrington #english teacher eddie munson #kinda doing a parent trap thing #in which robin and the party parent trap eddie and steve #it's also the part of clueless where they do matchmaking with the teachers #first date #the party #robin buckley #platonic soulmates #rough winds do shake the darling buds of may but thy eternal summer shall not fade #phat did you write that

[shoyoist]

having horrible horny thoughts about telling best friend hanma no guy has ever made you cum so he takes it upon himself to be the first because he deserves it and wants to be your first something :,( eats you out like a starved man and his strokes are immaculate someone help 💔💔

— 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 !! : hanma shuji.

content: f!reader. college au(?). you're inexperienced, shuji is secretly in love with you. pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, he makes you call him daddy. if this makes no sense its bec i wrote the whole thing w my clit.

an: (s)creaming this turned into a full fic lmfaoo

⠀⠀ — . ｡˚ ♡ "i dare you to tell me somethin' that'll make me laugh."

“no guy’s ever made me cum.” you’d told hanma. a not so innocent answer to a rather innocent dare, you admit. but he’s your best friend, nothing less (and nothing more). it’s fine.

and there was an awkward, momentary silence for a few seconds. he’d fallen still, holding the cigarette he’d been about to take a drag from in mid air, amber eyes flickering with an emotion unreadable to you.

“say what, dollface?” he asks — using that petname with you again, that your exes always hated — and the disbelieving tone in his voice embarrasses you, brings a flush to your cheeks and ties a knot of humiliation in your guts.

you squirm on the back of his motorcycle, as he turns his head to look at you, leaning against the fence right by you, where he’d parked the vehicle. 

“i—” you stutter, flustered. “no guy’s ever made me cum before.” just something funny that’d slipped out your mouth, during a lazy game of truth or dare you’d played during his smoke break after class.

“that’s fucking funny, doll.” he does laugh, but it’s awkward. “you serious?”

“yes.” you’d answered. truthfully.

and now, you’re splayed out between hanma’s legs, on his bed in his room, his long and lithe fingers bullying their way into your cunt for the third time. “h—ah! wait!”

he’s leaning against the headboard, one arm hooked around your waist, hand firmly on your thigh and holding your legs spread apart, fingers in your pussy as he chuckles lowly at your whines.

you’d question it — question what the fuck was happening, if he just wasn’t so fucking hot and making you feel so fucking good.

“that’s it,” he smirks, as you drop your head against his chest, grabbing onto his wrist, desperately trying to close your legs as he effortlessly draws another orgasm out of you. “that’s it ... ya look fuckin’ cute when you’re cumming.”

he laughs when you try to look up at him and scowl, eyes fluttering and rolling back into your head when he uses the hand that’s not busy fucking your pussy to land a slap on your clit. 

you moan again, and he laughs. “see? atta girl, so pretty when you cum. tellin’ me nobody’s ever seen you like this?” 

you dont answer, too busy trying to blink back the wave of dizziness that’s washing over you with the bliss hanma’s giving you, on his fingers alone.

the inked kanji on the back of his hand flashes darkly, sin bobbing up and down between your legs, shiny with your slick, as hanma curls his fingers into your tight, clenching walls and rasps into the shell of your ear, “asked you a question, dollface.”

“nobody,” you gasp, for some reason so nervous yet so turned on, by the demanding, challenging edge to his tone. “nobody, hanma— ah!”

“tch, it’s shuji, sweetheart.” he pinches your clit, laughs when your knees jerk up at the sensation. 

his voice goes a little softer as he continues, thinking you wouldn’t notice the hint of jealousy and longing in his voice with the state you’re in. “gonna keep me just your friend, just your ol’ buddy hanma-kun even after i take you on my bed, fuck you on my fingers ’n make you cum over ’n over again?”

“a—mngh, ’m sorry, shuji,” you whine, too enamoured by how he feels to argue, and his heart jumps at how sweet his name sounds off your tongue. “f—fuck, feels so good!”

“would feel better if i were usin’ my tongue. or if you were on my cock.” he laughs when your expression visibly scrunches up in embarrassment, cooing at you and telling you how cute you are as he grips your waist and turns you around to straddle him, legs shaky with the effect of your previous orgasms. “want me to do it, yeah?”

“mmm,” you answer though you’re not sure what he means, holding onto his shoulders for support. he holds you steady, and slides himself down onto his back onto the mattress, pushing your legs further apart around him and cupping your ass, pulling you forward — and you realize what he’s about to do. “shuji, no, i’ve n—”

you cut yourself off, but hanma picks your sentence up anyway.

“never been eaten out before?” he asks, sounding both unconvinced and pissed off at the same time, and you sit there as he stares up at you, so fucking embarrassed—

“my doll’s been gettin’ treated like shit, huh?” he breathes, gold eyes tracing your figure down. “sweet lil’ thing, i’ll show you how y’should be treated, a’right?”

“mm,” you let out a sound, so shy when his voice goes all sympathetic. it makes your pussy go slick with want, your heart beating faster with anticipation. “mkay.”

hanma doesn’t hold back. he tightens his arms around your hips and waist in an instant, pulling your cunt down on his mouth, nose pressed just over your clit as he inhales deep into you, letting out a needy growl as he opens his mouth and takes you.

your hands scramble to find a hold on the headboard as he rocks you forward, trapping you on your knees with your thighs plush and warm around his face, drinking in your cunt — devouring you like a man starved. “fuck,” he slurs into your heat, muffled and hot. “shit, baby, s’ fuckin—good.”

his tongue grazes your clit, curls around it and sucks, and you cry out, squirming in his arms, one hand leaving the headboard to get down and curl your fingers into his hair and tug, stuttering his name out in a pleading chant. “shuji, shuji, shuji — fuck!”

the moan he lets out when you pull at his black and blonde locks thrums against your cunt, and when he sucks at your clit again, slurping loudly and grunting praise into you, it’s enough to make you cum again. “ah, shuji, cumming, cumming!”

“i know,” he hisses, and when you look down at him, the rise of his cheekbones, his nose and his mouth are soaked with your wetness— and his eyes are blown wide, the gold of them almost lost in the darkness of his want. “i know, baby. i know.”

“please,” you hiccup, tears blurring your vision, hips trembling as you try not to collapse over hanma’s face.

your cunt aches, empty despite the way he shoves his tongue up your fluttering hole, and you dont want another orgasm without it. “fuck! shuji — shuji please, need your cock.”

“mm — what’d you say, dollface?” he grunts, licking at your clit, yanking you back in when you try to lift yourself off him. “cant just get all you want like that. say it right f’me.”

“w-what?” you sob, unsure what he means but so needy to obey, because you just need him to stuff you full and fill you up already.

you dont know if it’s wrong or not, to want your best friend’s dick inside you so badly, but you’ve gone this far, havent you? he’s giving you what you want.

“you g’na do as i say?” he smirks, watching how you nod and keen when he tongues at your abused clit again. “then say ‘i love you, daddy, i only want you ‘n your cock from now on’.”

huh? — it takes a second or two, but the words put clarity in your head, somewhat, when you hear them. 

swallowing back the shaky whine of acceptance bubbling at your throat, you manage to ask instead, “you want me to tell you i love you?”

there’s a small pause, before hanma’s grip on your hips tightens again. 

but this time, he pulls you off.

it urges you back to your position straddling his hips, as he sits back up, leaning on the headboard once more — and though his hard-on brushing hot and heavy through his jeans against your messy cunt is distracting, you pay attention to his expression instead.

hanma stares at you, face wet with your slick and hair messy with your hand tangling through the dyed locks. “so you ... dont?”

it’s a sudden flipside to the multiple orgasms he’d just sent you through, and it disorients you just a little. 

but the look in his amber eyes, black and blonde hair stuck to his forehead and framing his face, the warmth in your heart as you contemplate an answer — and the desperate ache in your empty cunt, it all convinces you to say you do.

“i do.”

there’s yet another damned pause, as you sit on hanma’s lap, naked and with his dick hard under your ass, your palms flat against his bare chest — if someone’d told you before that a dumb game of truth or dare after class would lead you to this situation, you’d laugh.

but — but this is shuji. he’s rough on the exterior, a major tease, a man notorious and famous on the streets; but really? he’s sweet.

he buys you coffee, takes you out shopping, takes you to the salon, pays for your takeout. he always tells you he'll fuck your exes up if they hurt you or make you cry (and they have done so, but you've never allowed him to beat them).

he goes with you to the library, even though he doesn't even care for spending hours on assignments or work. to be fair, he does leave you in there and go out to smoke after only a few minutes, but he always comes back to drop you home.

he's so nice to you, despite himself. and turns out, if you'd just ask, he'd fuck you too.

he’s your best friend. nothing less, nothing more, but you decide it now, trembling from the euphoria he’s giving you. you want more.

it’s possessive and spells desire, how he’d pulled you in here to make up for your ‘stupid shit exes’, telling you he would make you feel good if nobody else has done it before.

it’s all so sudden, but it makes sense. he’s been just your best friend this whole time, but you want more.

“i do love you, shuji.”

hanma lets out a breath, when you repeat it. “really, now?” he mutters. “not just sayin’ that so i’ll give you my cock? dont play with my heart now, doll.” he chuckles, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes.

“i do.” you mumble, shy again under the intensity of his piercing stare. “and i guess ... that’s why it never worked with anyone else. when you were there this whole time.”

“hah,” hanma laughs, steadying his hold on your waist before bringing one hand up to pat your cheek. ”y’ telling me no other asshole could make you cum, ‘cause you were busy wishin’ it was me?”

“no!” you blurt out, but when he grins wider, slides his hand down from your cheek to pinch the soft flesh of your tits, the electric shiver that courses down your spine says otherwise. it would be a lie, to say that you’ve never wanted him. “yeah, m-maybe.”

“fuck,” he hisses at that, eyes going even darker, like the dubious confirmation you’d given him was all he needed, like it was a love shot and a stroke of lust in one — and he yanks the buttons and zipper of his jeans open, tugging the fabric apart and pulling out his straining cock.

it’s big — unsurprising, but still a sight to take in, and you whimper tearfully when he grabs the length in his hand and taps his head to your clit, letting out a breathy chuckle. “biggest cock y’ ever seen, mhm?”

and you’d want to keep from boosting his ego, but the way you stare is answer enough. “n-need you in me, shuji.” you beg, and he just laughs again, rubbing the pearl of precum that swells at his tip across your slit, teasing. “say what i told you to say, then. if y’love me.”

call him daddy? “do i really have to?” you whine, pushing forward and grinding up on his cockhead. it ellicits a rough moan from him, that makes your clit throb when you hear it — but hanma remains adamant.

“you hafta, dollface.” he smiles, showing you teeth. “you’ll do it, if y’ really want me so bad.”

and god, the layers of pleasure he’d drowned you in are too sharp, too overwhelming for you to refuse and stop this right now — you want, need his cock. right now.

fine. “i—i love you, daddy.” you mumble, eyes skirting down because you cant bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “and i-i want only you. only your cock, and only you. i love you.”

and it’s like hanma has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

“shit, baby,” he huffs, pulling your tits flush against his body as he grabs you by the waist and by the back of your neck, dragging you in and meeting your lips with his in a starved kiss — fuck, he hadn’t kissed you until now? 

you realize it, with both a pang and a fluttering in your heart, but the thought is soon knocked out of your head, as he kisses you again, tasting the lingering essence of yourself on his tongue, tasting him, catching the scent of cigarettes and men’s cologne on his mouth and neck as you lean into him, letting him savour you whole. 

“god, i love you.” he groans, as he lines his cock up at your entrance, sliding sin and punishment over to your ass again and sheathing you down on him. “loved you f’so long now, baby. d’you know how i’ve felt? ‘n now y’re fuckin’ telling me all those assholes you dated never made you cum. fuck.”

“mm, sh-shuji!” you cry, and he moans in your ear in reply. “s-slower! please, please—”

“‘m too big for you?” he rasps, voice hoarse with pleasure. god, he’s wanted this forever. your tight, velvet walls clenching around him, wet and hot and your body on him, so pretty and all his.

“cant slow down, sweetheart.” he hisses. “consider this your punishment. for playin’ with my heart like that, for so long.” you’ve got your arms wrapped around hanma’s neck, trying to control the pace at which you sink down on his cock, but he rolls his hips up and pushes all the way into you anyway.

“a—haah! shuji!” your moan is saccharine in his ear, and he swallows back a curse, knowing that it’s not going to be long before he’s cumming, filling you all up.

“say sorry, baby.” he growls, pulling out before shoving back in you again, putting stars into your eyes with the sharp slap of skin against skin, the harsh kiss of his tip against your cervix. “really didn’t think i loved you, even when i was fuckin’ knuckle deep in you? callin’ you my dollface and telling you y’re pretty ‘n driving you around, and sucking on that sweet lil clit?”

you cry out, when he bites at the side of your neck, feeling even more embarrassed, feeling stupid — because god, you were stupid to miss the signs. to think he was just like that. when he only ever was that way with you. “‘m sorry, sorry. please, i’m sorry.”

“hmm,” he lulls, kissing the marks of his teeth that he’d left on you. “cant be mean with you, can i? too fuckin’ sweet for your own good.”

your mouth is on his cheek, lips sliding down his jaw in desperate kisses, needing him more even when he’s right here, when your body’s pressed to his and his lips are on you and his cock is all the way in your cunt. “mmngh,” you try, too dizzy to answer properly.

“now let’s teach ya how it feels to cum on a big, fat cock, yeah, dollface?” he says, starting up a hasty rhythm with his cock, up and down into you as you struggle to stay sitting up on his lap. “poor lil’ doll’s never even done this before?”

“never.” you keen, lost in the way his cock is so long, so thick, reaching all the sweet spots deep in your cunt in one fucking go. “n-never came on a cock before.”

“yeah, i know.” he says, all sympathetic again, and it sends heat rushing to both your face and your core. “g’na beg daddy to let you cum all over his cock?”

“mhm,” you moan, and he smiles, brings you in for another kiss as he speeds up. “then say it, baby. say what y’need to say to have your way.”

“mm, daddy, daddy—” you sob, trying to kiss him back as he hums into your mouth, forgetting your embarrassment at having to call him that, because fuck, it was starting to feel fitting. “please let me cum on your cock, please, please—”

“only if you’ll let me fill this pretty pussy all up.” he stutters, voice turning all raspy as he goes even faster, bouncing you up and down so hard as he nears his high. 

he loves the way you beg. loves the way you call him by that name. so cute, and almost pathetic, for him. it’s a fresh change. one he wants to hold on to. “yeah? you’ll let me do that, baby? let daddy fill your cunt up with his cum?”

“yes,” you gasp, vision going cloudy with both tears and pleasure as you feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter all over again. “fuck, anything! anything, daddy, just please.”

“please what?” his laugh is now hoarse, as he looks at your blissed out face from under his lashes, eyes lidded and heavy with lust and pleasure.

the bedsheets under you are soaked, but neither of you can care — you moan again, sucking in a breath and falling into hanma’s chest, tired but so, so desperate to cum again. “please, shuji. please. need to cum on your cock. need you to cum in me.”

and he does. 

hanma watches, vision hazy as his cock slides out of your cunt milky and drooling, and pushes back in — pushes in so deep he hits your cervix again and he cums, leaking hot, white ropes of seed into your tight, wet cunt — and it makes you cum, too.

“fuck, tryna milk me all up, huh?” he heaves as he maintains his pace, gritting his teeth and grabbing your hips when you try to meet the rhythm, pussy fluttering and sucking him in like you’ve needed him as much as he’s needed you. “pretty, pretty lil’ pussy — all mine, yeah?”

“all yours, shuji.” you sob, and he stares as your head tilts up, eyes rolling back in your head as they fall shut, drowning in the pure heaven of cumming while stuffed full of his big, big cock. “a-hnngh, all yours.”

“yeah, that’s right.” he growls, wrapping punishment around your throat, hauling you back in to kiss you, sloppy and open mouthed, as sin slips down between your bodies — pressing into your pulsing clit with his thumb as he continues fucking up into you, pace relaxing slowly. “that’s right. y’re all mine now. forever.”

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA. #hanma smut #tokyo revengers smut #hanma shuji smut #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers angst #hanma shuji x reader #hanma x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers drabbles #hanma angst #hanma drabbles #hanma headcanons #hanma x y/n #tr smut #tokyo revengers headcanons #hanma shuji x you

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie has strong feelings for Steve. Feelings he thought he had gotten rid of once Steve rescued him from hell. His hatred of him didn't even make sense, even before all of this. So, because he's a jock he has to be a jerk like all the rest? Eddie had made an assumption about him and Lucas just like they made about him. He hated that he had done that. It hadn't been his proudest moment. Now, those frustrating feelings are resurfacing, which is ridiculous because not only is he a good guy, but he is also a complete dork as well and he's so fucking great with the kids. He should be happy that he's friends with him, so why does his stomach feel like there's a bird trying to get out of its cage when he looks at Steve?

"Eddie, man, why are you scowling at me?" Steve asked.

He was hanging out with Steve, Robin, and Robin's girlfriend, Vickie. It was supposed to be a nice, casual get-together. Of course, Eddie had to ruin it.

"I hate you!" Eddie burst out.

There was silence in the living room as everyone stared at him. Steve looked hurt. Robin looked angry, and if Vickie wasn't holding her back, Eddie was sure she would rip out his throat with her bare hands.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It doesn't make any sense why I do, though!" Eddie burst out. "Because you're a great guy! Fantastic even! When I look at you, I get these feelings in my chest that annoy the fucking shit out of me. Everything about you is so fucking perfect like a goddamn prince out of a storybook! With your perfect hair, your perfect eyes, and your perfect teeth. My God, you're even great with the kids! When you talk about going out on dates, I hate that, too! I know you're just trying to do that to get over Nancy. Speaking of Nancy, I like her and all, but when I think about you two together, it makes my fucking skin scrawl! What the fuck is that? I mean, I like Nancy, but fuck, the idea of you two together makes me want to rip off my own eyebrows and eat them! Jesus H Christ! There's no reason for me to hate you, and yet somehow . . . Wait, why are you guys laughing?"

Vickie was giggling into Robin's shoulder while Robin laughed into a pillow. Steve was laughing with his hands over his eyes.

"He's so cute!" Vickie laughed.

"Why are you guys laughing at me?" Eddie asked. "Stop it!"

"You poor Dingus!" Robin laughed.

"What?!" Eddie asked.

"You like me, Eddie," Steve said.

"Yeah, I like you, but I also seem to hate you," he sighed.

"No, I mean, you like me," Steve said, standing up.

"You said that already," Eddie replied.

"Alright, can I do something so I can get my point across?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, do whatever you want to me, man," Eddie said and Steve grinned widely.

"Within reason, Steven!" Robin exclaimed.

Steve cupped his face and kissed him. Eddie gasped, a jolt of what felt like electricity shot through him. He liked it. The kiss was short and to the point. Steve pulled away.

"Oh, I like you! Oh, thank God! I thought I hated you! Wait, am I gay? No, I still like like girls. . .hold on, give me a minute," Eddie said, raising his finger to do invisible math in the air.

"You like this man, Steve?" Robin asked as they watched Eddie erase something.

"Oh, yeah," Steve replied.

"I've never actually seen someone figure out their sexuality before," Vickie said.

"Oh, I had a chance to do that with Steve. It was a wonderful experience. Definitely a lot less stupid than this," Robin said.

"I like both!" Eddie exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "And I like you!"

"I like both too, Eddie, and I like you too," Steve laughed. "I'm bisexual."

"Bi - sex - u - al," Eddie said like, drawing out the words, and he shook his head from side to side as if rolling the word around in his head. "Yes! Me too! Bisexual! Does this mean this is a double date now?"

Steve grinned, sat down on the love seat, and pulled him into his lap.

"Definitely," Steve said.

"Let me tell you, I feel this huge relief now that I know I like you," Eddie said. "I can't believe I thought I hated you!"

"Dingus!" Robin giggled.

"How long are you guys going to laugh at me about this?" Eddie pouted as Steve shook with laughter beneath him.

"Forever!"

Eddie buried his head into Steve’s neck as he laughed with them, sighing in contentment when Steve kissed his forehead.

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #bi4bi #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p #stranger things vickie #bisexual vickie #lesbian robin buckley #robin x vickie #rovickie #rockie #stranger things fanfiction

[starlordsandrockets]

The Bet

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+ , fake dating

word count: 9k

summary: You find yourself in attendance of a Gala with Peter Parker as your (fake) date. The two of you end up making a bet: Peter tries to make you fall for him by the end of the night.

a/n: sorry, i found myself in the worst case of writer’s block i’ve had in awhile. ANYWAY, i hope this makes up for it

“All I’m saying is that you’re going to look ridiculous,” Tony spoke. The rim of an almost empty glass of whiskey sat against his smiling lips, “Even Nat’s bringing a date and you two are two sides of the same coin. I don’t see how you can’t put up with a man for just one night,” Your gaze made him choke on his drink slightly, “or, or a woman?” He questioned, unsure of the reason for your deadly glance.

“I-I could get a date,” You stuttered, bringing your own glass to your lips. You crossed your legs, the black dress sat tightly against your knees. A pair of equally dark heels sat on your feet. The shoe dangled off your elevated foot, “I just chose to go stag, more of my vibe, you know,” You laughed it off.

“You’re a real lone wolf,” Tony spoke, “Are those still called bitches? Or is that just dogs?”

“Fuck off,” You groaned, finishing off your glass, “I’ll find a guy at the gala, alright. Spare me,”

“No, spare me,” Tony spoke, placing a hand on his chest dramatically, “Stark bringing along a virgin of an intern. All brain and no game,” He almost slurred, “But I guess that modest dress makes you kind of sexy in a mysterious way,”

“Forgive me for not breaking out my little black dress,” You told him, “It’s a gala. At an art museum, it’s not like we’re going to some night club”

“Oh, we’re not?” Tony questioned, “Then why are you totally pregaming with me right now,” He poured you another glass of whiskey with a shit eating grin.

“It’s the only way I can deal with you,” You admit with a smile, “This way you get a little more tolerable,”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Tony spoke, raising another glass. However, his toast was cut short as someone caught his eyes, “Ah! Pete! Perfect, absolutely perfect,”

You turned your head, your loose, y/h/c waves twirling, “Come on, Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, a sigh passed through his lips as he noticed Tony’s buzzed state, “There’s still like, an hour ‘til we leave,”

“Yeah! Perfect, enough time for you to have a drink with us,” Tony smiled, walking towards Peter. He took hold of Peter’s arm, dragging him into the lounge.

Peter wore a black suit, nothing fancy besides the luxury brand Tony had paid for. His hair was gelled into place and it made you laugh to yourself, “What?” Peter questioned as he heard you almost giggle. A subtle blush sat on his freckled nose. A drink found a way into his hand as he stared at you, “Mr. Stark, you know I won’t feel a thing from this,”

“Humor me, kid,” Tony spoke, “Er- us,” He motioned towards you.

You were reclined on Tony’s expensive couch as you bounced the heel that sat loosely on your foot, “Please, I’m being held here against my will,” You spoke, making Peter smile. You extended your arm, placing it on the back of the couch. Stretching, you pinched your shoulder blades without a thought. However, Peter’s thoughts were racing, the position pushing out your chest, drawing all of Peter’s attention to you. He did not think you could consume any more of his thoughts than you already did, but here he was. Knocking back whatever liquid was in the glass Tony had given him, he swallowed it in hopes of also swallowing his dirty thoughts. As he expected, it did not work.

“Y/N needs a date tonight,” Tony spoke as you took a large sip, making you instantly choke. The action was not comical, like in the movies and books, but had you embarrassingly gasping for air and coughing up a lung, “As charming as she is in this very moment, do you think you could do me a favor and not let her show up like that,” Tony spoke, “She’s my intern and I’d hate to have her overshadowed by me, and Pepper, of course. So what better than my intern showing up with my totally-not-an-Avenger, and totally real intern,”

“Are you sure this isn’t another, against her will sort of situation?” Peter questioned as you continued to cough, physically unable to say no.

“She’s not objecting,” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving him a drunken shake.

***

“After the carpet, I’m finding the drinks and leaving your ass,” You spoke, “I don’t care if people think I’m alone, okay.”

“Yeah… right,” Peter spoke as he sat next to you in the long limo. The two of you sat somewhat isolated from the others. The group was paired off and in their own world, leaving the two of you to realize just how alone you really were, “Me too, I wanted to come alone anyway,”

“Me too,” You added, repeating your previous claim. Your hand found the vodka cranberry that the limo’s bar provided, “I’ve always been alone,” You informed as you brought the glass to your lips, “Why start now,”

***

You felt your stomach turn as the camera flashed. You had yet to place a single one of your black heels on the red carpet of the gala and you instantly regretted the drinks you downed to calm your nerves, “Hell no,”

“You’ll be fine,” Peter spoke, “They probably won’t even bother us if Mr. Stark’s around, not to mention everyone else,” He spoke, “Literally everyone but us,”

“That makes me feel so much better,” You almost laughed, “Thanks,” Your word was blunt. You were used to being in others' shadows. You rushed before Peter, wanting to spend the night the way you were used to: alone.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, unsure how he had upset you. 

Since Peter could remember, you had always been standoffish, never reaching out for company at the compound. Always shutting yourself off in the lab, you would get your work done and leave if it was not too late of a drive. You would crash on the couch whenever Tony refused to let you leave after 1am. Tony never wanted to feel guilt of you overworking yourself in the lab only for you to fall asleep at the wheel on your drive home.

Peter recalled the sight of you sprawled out on the lounge’s large couch, a blanket tossed over you as it barely covered your exposed skin. Peter could not help falling for you after he caught that sight more than a few times. He had helped you through a few too many drinks, holding your hair as you emptied your night into Stark’s million dollar toilet. Peter was unsure if you remembered nights like that.

Peter knocked into you, bringing him back to reality as you stood frozen in front of the flashing cameras, “You’re Tony Stark’s intern, aren’t you?” Someone from the crowd questioned, voice booming over the other shouts, “Is it true you work on the Avenger’s upgrades?” The man asked.

“Y/N calls all the shots for Avengers’ upgrades,” Peter spoke next to you. Your head spun, not only from the attention, but towards Peter, “I- They’d be lost without her,”

He was not wrong. You fixed nearly all the flaws you found in Spider-Man’s suit. They were only flaws due to Peter’s way of thinking. Tony had designed the AI with himself in mind and not Peter, “Smile,” Peter whispered in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. You could barely see, the white flashes blinding you. Reaching out, Peter placed his hand on the small of your back. Your lips parted, about to snap a sarcastic remark at Peter’s advancement, however, you felt his clammy hold through your dress’s thin fabric, making you smile.

***

“So,” You said, “You’d be lost without me?” Your question teased Peter as the two of you finally made your way into the gala’s main room.

“I can admit it,” Peter spoke, “I don’t have some weird complex like you, or Mr. Stark,”

“Don’t compare me to Tony,” You told him, still a little buzzed from not only the alcohol in your system but also the camera flashes, “God, if I get that bad kill me,”

“If you didn’t fix my suit, I might have by accident,” Peter admitted. He had eventually gotten the hang of his suit’s AI, however the changes you had made allowed him to fully master his potential, “but, yeah,” His words were smooth, “I would be lost without you, honestly,”

“Including now?” You questioned, now realizing you did not wish to face the night alone. Especially now that you have seen the amount of older men that would surely harass you if you found yourself alone, “so, leaving you behind would be a terrible idea,”

“Absolutely terrible,” Peter played along, a smile threatening to curl his lips. He knew your games and when you were hiding your true emotions, “I’m not sure if I could make it through this boring gala by myself. You’d be doing me a huge favor,”

“Yeah?” You questioned, “Then you owe me,” Your eyes searched for any amount of food you could ingest before you had more drinks to get you through the night.

“How is that fair?” Peter laughed, however, he had not made it known that he knew the facade you were putting up, “You know what, fine,” He gave in, “I owe you, whatever you ask,” As soon as the words left his lips he caught you smile, “No, no, no,” He rambled as he heard you laugh.

“Oh you can’t take it back,” You laughed, “This is going to be fun,” Peter followed you at your heels as you searched the huge gallery for food or drinks, “Maybe I’ll hold this over your head for a while,”

“Y/N,” Peter groaned, meeting your eyes. His regret faded as soon as he saw your smiling eyes and grinning lips. He was just glad that you were having a good time.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Your name was called out, attracting your attention as well as Peter’s to a man who seemed to be in his late thirties. He was cute. Peter must have read your mind, or maybe caught on to your swooning gaze, as his hand found the small of your back once again, “Pardon my interruption,” the man questioned Peter’s touch.

“No interruption,” You spoke, stepping out of Peter’s warm touch, “Just simply company, to get me through the night,” Peter stiffened at your words but your back faced him, unable to see the consequence of your claim, “Y/N Y/L/N,” You spoke, extending your hand.

The man smiled at Peter’s misfortune, “I’m glad to have caught you, I’m the gallery’s director,” He watched as your eyes lit up for a moment, “Phil Weston,” Phil introduced, “I was wondering if we could rent some of your work. Give you your own exhibition,” He watched as you stumbled over your thoughts before him, “Or should I be going through your assistant here?” He motioned towards Peter, “That’s what you are right?” He almost degraded.

“I’m a little more than that,” Peter spoke, unable to shine light on just how important he truly is. But you knew, he was sure you would back him up.

“Sure,” Phil spoke, “Well, Y/N,” Turning, he retrieved a tall glass from a woman who appeared behind him mid conversation. The glass of champagne made its way into your hand, your rings knocking against the thin glass. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small card, “Here’s my card,”

“Thanks Weston,” You smiled around the glass. Sticking the card between your two fingers, you flashed it to Peter, “Keep this safe for me,” You jokingly instructed, “assistant,” You heard Phil laugh as he departed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Peter spoke, not taking the card out of your grasp. The dark paper still waved in front of his face.

“Me?” You questioned with a bat of your lashes, with a smile you took a large sip of your drink.

“I know we’re playing a part here,” Peter spoke, “but you’re just standing there while that guy humiliates me,”

“I’m not playing a part,” You told Peter, “I call the shots, remember. And you owe me, I could have said something but then you’d owe me even more,” Alcohol coated your words as you studied the Avenger. A laugh bubbled between your lips as you began to tuck the business card into the small purse that sat at your side, “Forget it, Parker,” You informed, finishing off your champagne, “just help me find something else to drink,”

“I think you should eat something,” Peter spoke. Watching you walk away from him he reached out, taking hold of your wrist, “I mean, with how much you’ve been drinking,”

“Are you worried about me?” You asked with a sly smile, “I know you’re my fake date, but you don’t have to act like it,” Your eyes found a large table ordained with finger foods and drinks, “but I’ll humor you,”

“I just don’t want you finding yourself doing something you regret,” Peter spoke, thinking of Phil. He knew that you had more confidence when you drink. Hell, he hated it. You flirted with Peter almost every time you had one too many but in the morning the two of you could be mistaken as strangers, “Or make a complete fool of yourself,”

“That so?” You questioned as the two of you crossed the tiled floor of the museum.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Peter spoke from where he followed at your heels, “Little do you know, I have a decent amount of blackmail on half the compound. Sure it sucks that I can’t get drunk like the rest of you but, not going to lie, I think I have more fun watching you all make fools of yourselves,”

“What are you, a masochist?” You tease as you turn to him, drink in hand. You caught Peter’s stern glance, “Right, right,” You raised your free hand, retrieving a small sandwich, “See, food,” You stuffed the sandwich between your red lips, “Yum,” You spoke sarcastically, mouth full of food.

“How’d I land such a classy date?” Peter questioned, taking a drink from the table. He knew the alcohol would not affect his system but he did not want to look out of place.

“You wish you could land me,” You washed your food down with a large sip of wine.

“Ouch,” Peter spoke around his wine glass. He was unsure if he was just experiencing placebo from the wine but found himself speaking with newfound confidence, “I could land you… if I wanted,”

“Yeah?” You laughed, “I’d like to see that,” You admitted. You would be lying if you said you did not find Peter attractive. You have seen him at work, in the gym, you have seen him change in and out of his suit right in front of you. Peter might have not known but each time, you glanced at his toned body and mentally drooled. You would not mind if Peter pursued you, you just knew better. Peter was awkward and did not show much interest in you until tonight. He was just doing you a favor, keeping you company. He never spoke to you in the compound besides when he needed to, or when he said hello whenever the two of you passed each other in the large building, “But I know better,” You smiled, “know you better,”

“You think I won’t?” Peter questioned, watching you shrug your bare shoulders. He watched as another glass found its way into your hand, making his job a lot easier. You were a horny drunk and he was about to use that to his favor.

“Are you betting me?” You questioned almost excitedly, “Is this a bet? Please tell me you’re giving me another thing to hold over your head,”

“Sure, it’s a bet,” Peter spoke, taking another sip of wine, “But you have to be completely honest with me. No burying your feelings for me,” He informed, “Any time I ask, you have to tell me exactly how you feel,”

You almost gagged, but Peter was right, you should play fair, “Fine,” You rolled your eyes, feeling yourself begin to sway, “When’s the game start?”

“Right now,” Peter spoke, finishing off what was in his glass. Setting it down, he took yours from your grasp watching you shoot him an angry glance, “and you need to start off by telling me exactly how you feel about me,” His words were smooth, somehow forgetting that he normally had to build up the courage to just say hello to you but in this moment he was closing the space between the two of you, “I want to know what kind of a chance I even have,”

“I don’t think you have to work too hard,” You smiled, your lips beginning to numb. You stared up at Peter. Your eyes were able to count almost every freckle on his boyish face and god did you want to kiss them. Kiss him, even, “I’m kind of drunk,”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, “I figured that much Y/N,” He whispered as if it was a secret.

“And it’s making you look cuter,” You whispered back, watching your words shoot through his heart like an arrow, freezing him in his tracks, “Even cuter than before,”

“Good to know,” Peter muttered to himself as he watched you take the wine glass back from his hand, your fingers brushing against his clammy hand.

***

“How’s the lone wolf holding up,” Tony questioned as he had excused himself from a conversation Pepper found herself in; checking in on you and Peter, but mostly you. Tony’s eyes followed you as you swayed, Peter’s hand supporting your lower back, “I see you’re holding her up,” He motioned towards Peter as you took another sip of wine, “How much has she had,”

“I lost count, but you know her,” Peter spoke, “She’s almost as bad as you,” He somewhat joked, watching Tony smile.

“I’m fiiiinne,” Your voice drew out, “I’m just bored, so I’m drinking. Sue me,” You groaned, turning to Peter, you studied him and how close he stood next to you, “Can we go dance,”

Peter’s eyes widened as he met Tony’s gaze. Tony sent him a suggestive gaze, “Yeah Pete,” He smirked, “You two should go dance, that’d be a much easier way to hold her up,”

“Pleaase,” You almost begged, “I can’t drink if I’m dancing,” You set your glass down, throwing up your hands in your defense.

“I guess that’s true,” Peter agreed, “Excuse us,” He spoke to Tony who sent him a lovey-dovey look, “Mr. Stark, please,” He muttered, leading you away from Tony and to the gala’s live string quartet.

“I love the violin,” You drunkenly gushed, “I’ve always wanted to play,” You twirled out of Peter’s hold as you entered the floor, bumping into a couple who slowly swayed to the sound. A laugh bubbled from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke, “Sweetheart, be careful,” He played along with your roles for the night.

“Hm, sweetheart?” You questioned as his hands fell against the fabric of your dress, “Out of all the pet names, you pick sweetheart?”

“What? You want me to call you dear? Like we’re sixty and unhappy,” Peter’s claim made you laugh, “I know better than to call you baby,” He spoke quietly, watching your nose wrinkle, “That’s what I thought,”

“It’s just so formal,” You teased, “I thought the gala was formal enough, but sweetheart? I’m swooning, darling,”

“Ah, darling,” Peter spoke as you brought a new pet name to light, “I still think sweetheart fits you,” The two of you moved in sync without a second thought as your conversation could barely be heard over the romantic strings.

“I know,” You smiled, “I’m a delight, the sweetest at the compound,” You played along.

“No,” Peter continued, “I think that’s Mr. Stark. But you’re a close second,” He spun you in his hold. His eyes studied you as you twirled before him, your hair bouncing as you smiled, a laugh falling between your lips. Your red lipstick no longer sat evenly on your skin from the amount of drink you had. Peter wondered if he should tell you, wondering if you wished to reapply the seductive red shade, however his eyes took you in instead, “You’re pretty,” The words slipped almost silently past his lips.

In an attempt to cover his claim, Peter pulled you back in, making your head spin. His action was quick, or so you thought, maybe you were just drunk, “Did you- did you just?” You stuttered, somehow his quiet claim made your heart flutter slightly. Peter’s dominant hand left the small of your back as it found its way to the side of your neck.

“How do you feel about me right now?” Peter questioned, it took everything in him to hold your eye contact, his body begging his gaze to fall to the necklace that sat against your skin.

You stared into his brown eyes, his gaze reflected sickly sweet puppy love back into your lone glance, “You called me pretty,” Was all you managed to speak, lost in Peter’s imploring gaze.

“Yeah… yeah I did. And how’d that make you feel?” Peter questioned, “Do you like it when I call you pretty?” He was no longer hesitant, realizing you probably will not remember most of the night, in the morning. Peter stared at your stunned expression, taken aback by his words, “You’re not saying no,”

“I’m just-“ You stuttered. The room twirled and you were unsure if it was from your moving feet or Peter’s sweet words. Returning to Peter’s hold, your hand fell to his chest defensively.

“I-I didn’t think you could get any prettier,” Peter spoke, words intertwining with the playing strings. Clearing his throat, he attempted to recover from his stuttered claim. Although he we determined to win your bet, you always managed to make him nervous, “Your hair looks nice curled and your eyes,” Peter rambled, “Your eyes are somehow making me more nervous than usual,” Your gaze was soft and intent, “and your dress,”

“Spare me,” You spoke, “Tony already gave me shit,” Your fingers fell from the fabric of Peter’s suit, touch trailing. Hand falling, it smoothed over the curve of your hip, “I guess I should have gone shorter,” Your eyes found a handful of women in short dresses.

“No-” His voice was almost desperate, “no- I mean. I like this dress,” He watched you raise your brows, eyes narrowing. Peter pulled you closer to him, building up the courage to express his next claim, “I’d rather think about what’s under it,” His voice was somehow smooth, “rather than seeing you in a short dress,”

“Y-Yeah?” You questioned, looking up at Peter’s blushed complexion. You felt your system warm, the alcohol still having an effect over you, “Want to see what’s under it?”

“W-What?” Peter questioned, his dancing pace slowing, “Y/N,” He laughed nervously. You were doing it again, being a horny drunk, “You’re drunk,”

“And you’re winning,” You admitted, “as much as I hate to say it,” The two of you stood on the dancefloor as the others danced around you. Your hands found their way to Peter’s chest, snaking up to his neck until your fingertips brushed against his warm cheeks, “You’re hot,”

“Y/N,” Peter spoke your name, as if he was trying to make sure that all of this was not a dream.

“Bathroom,” You interrupted.

“What?” Peter questioned, wondering if he heard you correctly, “Bathroom?” He watched you nod, feeling nerves rush through him, thinking all that alcohol finally caught up to you, “Yeah- yeah okay,” He helped you navigate your way off the dancefloor.

“Slow down,” You spoke, a little out of breath from keeping up with Peter’s gate in your heels.

Peter felt your fingers tickle against his skin, not realizing he had grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowds. He felt his confidence begin to crumble as he grew further and further away from the crowd.

The two of you traveled down the museum’s large stairs to the lower galleries and bathrooms. You felt the room begin to spin as you attempted to navigate the large concrete steps, “Shit,” You laughed, “These stairs are going to kick my ass,”

“Here,” Peter spoke, his hand fell from your hold. Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around you.

His hold steadied you but equally weakened your knees. Peter’s fingers dug into your shoulder as you looked towards him.

“What?” Peter questioned. Your gate slowed as you studied his face. You never thought he could get more handsome, but here he was helping you down a large staircase like you were some princess in a giant castle. 

Did that make him the prince? Of course it did.

“I’m fucked,” You laughed, your claim was under your breath, however Peter’s hearing still picked up on it.

The claim, unknown to him, was because you found yourself falling even harder for him; however, he thought you were about to get sick. Slipping his free hand behind your knees, he easily scooped you up, literally sweeping you off your feet.

“What are you-“ You felt your face heat up at the sudden advancement, “What if someone sees- there’s cameras-“

Peter did not respond, he was far too focused on getting you to the bathroom. The remaining flight of stairs passed quickly under his shiny black shoes. Turning the stair’s corner, he brought you to the bathroom door that was tucked under the concrete stairs.

“What-What was that?” You questioned, hands gripping Peter’s shoulder, while the other found his hand that gripped underneath your thigh.

“I- What? What do you mean?” Peter questioned right back, “I thought you had too much to drink,”

“I just wanted to freshen up,” You stared back at him, realizing just how close the two of you were.

“Oh,” Peter spoke, embarrassment reddened his ears as he stared right back at you. Walking towards the wall, he pressed your open back against the concrete wall.

“Pete-“ You vocalized as the cold wall touched your heated skin. Your back arched away and towards him in his hold. Realizing your tone, your gaze fell to the floor.

Peter watched as your chest rose and fell heavily in front of him. The skin of your chest was peaking out with each intake, and it silently begged for his lips. He wanted to kiss you- well, he wanted to kiss you every moment he spent with you- but especially in this moment. Rounding his shoulders he brought his face in front of your downturned gaze. He grew closer and closer with each passing moment, eyes fixed on your own. He breathed a shaken breath, palms growing sweating as he inched closer to your lips.

Like ripping off a bandage, Peter was quick and rough. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the museum’s wall. You groaned against him in response to the impact, before kissing him back slightly. However, before you could fully reciprocate, you heard a pair of heels descending the stairs.

“Peter-” You stuttered against his lips, hands pushing against his chest. You buried yourself further into the wall in an attempt to escape his advancement, “Get- Let go-” You watched as your words finally registered in Peter’s brain, his hands dropping you to the floor. You struggled to keep your balance in your black heels. Without a thought, you turned and rushed off into the bathroom.

You placed your hands on the porcelain sink as you stared at yourself in the mirror. If you were not wearing makeup you would have probably splashed your face with cold water, or hell, you would have even slapped some sense into yourself. Suddenly the sound of the bathroom door made you stand up straight. You did not dare to turn your head, to check if it was Peter. You watched as a woman, a little older than you, smiled at you through the mirror. You gave her a weak smile in return, head still spinning in response to the kiss.

You needed to pull yourself together. You were slipping right into Peter’s grasp, not that it was a bad thing, you were just way too competitive. You wanted to win. Opening your small purse, you removed your lipstick. As you applied the shade to your lips, you were far too lost in thought. Staring back at yourself, you were surprised to see that you had mindlessly applied the satin formula.

The woman who had made her way into the bathroom now stood next to you at the sinks. You rubbed your lips together, blending the color evenly, “Having a good night?” You questioned her, preparing yourself for any conversation you would have with Peter.

“Oh yes,” She smiled, washing her hands gingerly, not wanting to bump her diamond bracelets against the porcelain, “I’m sorry for asking- you probably hear this a lot but, what is it like working for Tony Stark?”

**

Peter rocked up and down on his expensive dress shoes. You were taking fairly long. Peter had already calmed himself down in the men’s room after your heated kiss. But now, he knew he would have had time to relieve himself instead. What was wrong with him? It would not have been the first time he had touched himself to the thought of you, but it still felt wrong.

He kicked at the concrete floor, frustrated that your kiss was interrupted so quickly. Suddenly, Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as you exited the bathroom with the woman. You laughed beside her as you locked eyes with Peter, “It was a pleasure talking to you, Y/N,” The woman smiled, lightly setting a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry for keeping her,” She spoke to Peter.

Peter nodded out of courtesy as the two of you watched her climb the large stairs, “What was that about?” Peter questioned, taken aback by the sound of his own voice.

“Oh,” You spoke almost too casually, “She was asking me about Tony. Wanted to know what he’s like outside of the public eye, you know?”

“Yeah?” Peter laughed slightly, “I can imagine you only said nice things,” He joked, knowing how you and Tony bicker, “Obviously,”

“Oh of course,” You joked back. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. You watched Peter laugh beside you, leaning into you, and that is when you remembered the kiss. You must have visibly stiffened because it caused Peter to freeze as well.

“Y/N,” Peter spoke, watching you hesitate to meet his eyes.

You wanted to touch him, pull him against you and into the kiss that was so rudely interrupted. You wanted him to fill your free time, to watch his eyes squint whenever he smiled at your crude, dry humor, “You win,”

“What?” Peter questioned, laughing slightly. Then it registered, the smile faded on his lips and a slight red flush occupied his ears and cheeks, “Oh,”

“Yeah,” You nodded slowly, “It pains me to say it, but,” You groaned, “God I hate this,” You felt Peter’s fingers tickle the skin of your wrist. Your gaze flashed to the skin on skin contact and then the bathroom door.

“What?” Peter questioned again.

“Peter,” You motioned towards the door with your eyes.

“W-Wha- No! Y/N,” Peter stuttered, “No,” His voice was assertive as you almost pouted in front of him.

You bounced on your feet, silently pleading with him. He stood his ground, “Fine. But maybe I’ll change my mind later,”

“I don’t think you will,” Peter spoke, watching you physically wither, “Come on,” He took your hand and began to lead you up the staircase. You reluctantly followed at his heels, dreading what was to come next.

***

You have made it through three separate conversations with complete strangers, all while Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. To make matters worse, you now locked eyes with Tony. The fake smile that once parted your lips completely faded in his presence, “The kid still needs to be holding you up?” Tony teased as you gave Pepper a genuine smile.

“Pepper, I don’t know how you put up with him,” You spoke, “Sadly I’m sober,” Tony raised a brow at your statement, watching Peter’s hand return to his side.

“I’m surprised she didn’t bite your hand off,” Tony smiled as a woman approached your group with a tray of champagne, “Thank you,” He spoke to her before he passed the group glasses. He brought his lips around the rim of the thin glass, “You starting to warm up to my intern?”

“He’s tolerable company,” You smiled back, taking a large sip of champagne, “Couldn’t say the same about you though,” The tension between you and Tony hung in the air as Peter and Pepper both apologized to each other silently.

“Why don’t we get some air,” Peter suggested, hand returning back to you. He watched you finishing what remained in your glass before giving him a pressed smile.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Nice seeing you Pepper,” Your eyes did not dare fall over to Tony. You watched his hold tighten on Pepper as Peter’s did the same to you.

The two of you made your way towards a secluded exit, avoiding the paparazzi that waited for everyone outside, “Can’t you just play nice for a night?” Peter questioned after your long silence.

“It’s not like- He does that shit on purpose,” You spoke, motioning back towards the door you found yourself outside, “He always has something to say- something to get under my skin. And it’s not like you stepped in and told him to stop,”

“I like seeing you all worked up,” Peter spoke, not realizing how his claim sounded until it passed through his lips. You looked up at him, “Not- Not in a weird way- Well-“ He stuttered. Peter did like it in a weird way. He liked seeing you flustered.

You watched Peter stumble over his words, his gaze falling off of you, “Mm,” You hummed, your tone was teasing.

“I said not in a weird way,” Peter spoke, watching you lean into his, studying his blushed skin, “Y/N,”

“How then?” You questioned, “I’m dying to know,” Bringing your fingertips to a hair that hung against his forehead, pushing it back into his gelled hair, “Your hair looks so dumb,” You teased.

Taking your wrist, he brought you around the building’s corner, out of sight from anyone who would exit the door. He listened to your mumbled complaints before he took hold of both of your arms. Peter pushed you against the concrete building. The cool surface made you hiss before Peter’s hands snaked up your arms to your face. He cupped your cheeks roughly as he brought his lips to yours for a second time.

And you were so glad he did.

Your hands found his black tie, tugging on it. You loosened the fabric, feeling Peter sigh out of relief. You do not know why you started undressing him, but now your fingers fumbled against his white shirt’s small buttons, “Hey, hey,” He almost laughed against your lips, “Slow down,”

“I just want to touch you,” You admitted, pushing aside the white fabric, studying the soft skin of his neck and chest.

“I thought you loved Prada,” Peter joked. He watched you study the suit. Your eyes scanned his body before falling right back to his skin. Little did you know, Peter had asked Tony specifically for a Prada suit after he heard you obsessing over their latest campaign.

“I-I do.” You spoke, “But… I told you- You win,” Your hands held both sides of his shirt’s collar, “Swing me somewhere,”

Peter watched as you pulled yourself closer, your eyes studying his lips. He was clearly an idiot, not acting on impulse. Peter had wanted you for so long, and he hated how this was all happening now, “I, I don’t have my suit on me,” He rambled, watching you pout in front of him. Words mumbled past your lips as you tried to protest, “It’s not like I can just swing you off as Peter Parker, Y/N, I’m an intern tonight. Right? So I can’t just swing you through the city to do whatever I want to you,”

The words fell from Peter’s lips, making yours curl into a subtle smile, “What would you do?”

“What?” Peter questioned, watching you lean back against the building.

“You’d do whatever you wanted to me?” You repeated, “What would you do to me?” Peter stood, disheveled in front of you. His once pressed and buttoned shirt was wrinkled by your hands.

Peter took a step back from you, “Please,” He mumbled, fixing the collar of his shirt. Your eyes studied him before wandering, “What?”

That is when you spotted Tony’s empty limo.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice warned as you took hold of his wrist.

“Please?” You questioned, dragging him towards the parked limo.

“Someone will see,” Peter argued back, however, he still allowed you to drag him into the lot of limos and cars.

“Yeah, in a self driving, tinted, bomb and bullet proof limo,” Your words were sarcastic and the two of you neared the limo, “Friday,” You spoke, reaching out to the limo’s hidden keyboard.

“Y/N,” The system responded, “How may I be of service?”

“Unlock the limo please,” Your hand slipped from Peter’s wrist to his sweating palm.

“Mr. Stark has installed a security protocol for you entering the limo,” Friday explained, making you scoff, “The question is: Who is the world’s greatest boss?”

Your lips pressed into a line as you dreaded answering the question, “Tony Stark,”

“Incorrect,” Friday spoke, making you groan out loud.

Your hold on Peter’s hand tightened, “He made me say it and then- and then he just made the answer some bullshit I won’t figure out-“ You felt Peter’s fingers slip between your own, calming you for a moment, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Friday,” Peter spoke, “Hey. It’s- It’s me, Peter,”

“Hello Peter,” Friday spoke.

“Yeah, h-hi. Would you be able to let us in please?”

“Of course, Peter,” The two of you watched as the limo door opened.

Turning towards you, Peter studied your annoyed expression, “Still want to go in?” He questioned with sweaty palms.

“I’m not letting Tony kill the mood,” You scoffed, bending your shoulders in order to enter the low limo, “I bet he planned this,”

Peter followed you, listening to your mumbled complaints, “Friday, could you go offline? Please?”

”Of course Peter,” The system spoke, “All audio and video recording will be offline until further instructions,” You whipped your head towards Peter, pampered hair twirling slightly, “Uh- Unless you don’t want to do anything anymore,”. He felt his heart rate begin to accelerate as you crawled towards him on the leather seat.

“I thought there was so much you wanted to do to me,” You teased, watching Peter’s shoulders stiffen slightly, “Unless you don’t,”

“I do,” Peter spoke at an embarrassing rate, “I mean… yes,” His words slowed as he studied the fabric of your dress. His gaze trailed over the dark fabric until it found your neckline, the fabric dripping as you leaned in front of him. Peter quickly brought his eyes to yours, not knowing which sight made him more nervous.

“Okay,” You responded. Picking up your knee, you brought it over Peter’s legs. You slowly lowered onto his lap, “This okay?” You felt as if your heart could pound out of your chest.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled nervously. Your actions were killing him and he did not know if he would be able to hold back. Peter felt the weight of you on his lap, hoping you would not feel just how hard you were making him. Bringing his hands to your thighs, he pushed past the soft fabric of your dress. The fabric pooled around his wrist as his hands trailed up your legs, “shit,”

“Peter,” His name fell quietly past your lips as you placed your hands on his chest, fingertips on his collarbones. You heard him hum in response to his name, “What- What are you going to do?” You attempted to keep up the act, however, being this close to Peter was making you crumble.

“R-Right,” Peter breathed out, feeling his lungs shake as he took in a sharp breath. He studied the skin of your neck as you stared at him. Peter closed the space between the two of you, lips finding the skin he had been studying. His kisses varied, some soft yet some hungry. Peter’s lips parted, his kisses becoming more sloppy as his fingers dug into your plush skin coaxing a whimper from your lips.

The limo air hung heavy with every heated kiss and breath the two of you exchanged. Bringing your hand to Peter’s head, your fingers took hold of his hair. You pulled him away from your neck before you brought your lips to his. Your kisses were equally as hungry and making up for lost time. Hands still exploring his hair, you raked through the gel that held it in place. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you messed with Peter’s gelled hair. A slight smile curled on your lips as you kissed him, “What?” Peter questioned, lips not even an inch away from yours. His eyes studied your smile, teeth appearing between your lips.

“Your hair,” You spoke, leaning back to study it, “Did Tony tell you to wear it like that?”

“N-No,” Peter replied, “I always put gel in. I just used more this time,”

“Yeah well,” You played with a piece of hair that hung out of place, “I like it better like this,”

“Yeah?” Peter smiled.

“Mhm,” You hummed, fingers running through his locks.

“Then I guess I’ll have you do my hair for the next gala,” Peter added.

“Okay,” You answered quietly, eyes now falling to his lips.

“Alright,” Peter smiled, leaning back into you. His lips found yours once more, finding the rhythm the two of you previously shared. 

Peter had no idea how he ever survived this long without kissing you. The feeling of your body and lips pressed against him was enough to drive him insane. He melted against you, fully giving into you. His touch continued to trail up your skin, fingers now tracing the curve of your hips and waist, “Y/N,” Peter breathed out, “Are we doing this? Because I feel like I’m losing my mind-“

“Y-Yeah,” You stuttered, coming back to reality, “We better hurry before Tony realizes we’re gone,” You watched as Peter’s brows furrowed for a moment, “What?”

“I want to take my time with you,” He admitted, “I’m not really a quickie kind of guy,”

“Quickie? What are you, a teenager?” You teased slightly, “You can have me when we get back to the compound,” Peter’s gaze fell from your eyes to the tinted window out of embarrassment, “Yeah? Sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, hands leaving your waist and falling onto the fabric of his dress pants. The sound of his zipper made you realize that you were actually about to fuck him and none of this was a dream, “Let’s make this quick then,”

You brought your lips to his in a rough kiss, pushing Peter’s back fully against the limo’s seat. You raised yourself off of Peter’s lap, allowing him to push the fabric of his pants down his thighs. Suddenly, you felt Peter’s finger push your underwear aside, finger running through your wet folds. This caught you off guard, making you jump, body freezing against him.

“You’re so wet,” Peter almost laughed, “How long have you been like this?”

“The Prada got me pretty quick,” You admitted slightly.

“Yeah?” Peter smiled, “It wasn’t the fake dating?”

“S-Shut up,” You stuttered as Peter’s touch returned for another swift motion between your legs, “We d-don’t have time for this,” You spoke, hoping Peter’s teasing would cease as embarrassment flooded your cheeks.

“Right, no foreplay,” Peter spoke, “Not that you seem to need it right now,” He teased, watching your brows furrow, “Right, right,” Peter spoke, pulling a condom out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“You, you brought a condom?” You stared at the foil in disbelief, for some reason Peter’s action stirred the butterflies that sat in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter admitted, “I have one on me if I ever think I have a chance with you… and also when I don’t,” Opening the condom, he attempted to distract himself from your quiet laughter above him.

The laughter continued to bubble past your lips. You were not laughing at Peter, but at how stupid you were for waiting this long to act on your feelings. Somewhere between your laughs, Peter had rolled the condom down the length of his dick.

“What?” Peter questioned your laughter as he pushed the fabric of your underwear aside.

“N-Nothing,” You stuttered, catching your breath from your laughs, “I just- I feel like I don’t deserve you,”

Reaching out, Peter covered your mouth. He somehow felt himself grow even harder as the claim left your lips. His dick bounced, attracting your gaze. You felt your face heat up as you took in the sight before you.

Removing his large hand, Peter caught you in a heated kiss. It was a kiss by definition, however it was sloppy and hungry with barely any rhythm to it. As you lost yourself in decoding it, Peter had lined himself up underneath you and began to enter you.

“S-Shit,” Peter stuttered at how tight you sat around his dick. You were so wet for him and he entered you easily, “fuck,”

“P-Peter,” You returned his stuttering, his name falling past your lips as you felt the size of him, “God- shit, you’re big,”

“Right,” Peter laughed as you gave him the classic, cliche line. But he was big and you were not sure if you could thank the spider bite for that or not. 

However, as the single thought crossed your mind, it soon left as Peter began to bounce you above him, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, “Ffffuck,” You moaned from the pressure of Peter’s hands combined with the rhythm he started.

“God you sound so pretty,” Peter groaned as his head tilted back against the seat’s headrest. Your hands, once bunching the fabric of his dress shirt, now traveled to his collar. Your fingers fumbled to unbutton his shirt, hungry for the sight of his soft skin.

As soon as the skin of his chest was visible, your shoulders rounded and lips attached to his collarbone. His skin passed your lips as your teeth marked him, earning a moan from his parted lips.

“Y/N-“ The pain from your mark making only made Peter thrust into you harder and faster, “shit,”

Your hands fell to either side of Peter’s head, holding onto the seat as Peter fucked you. Peter was still holding back, but at this strength, you were still going to be hurting in the morning. You bit into the skin of his shoulder, trying to suppress your moans that only grew louder; screams threatening to replace them, “P-Peter-“ You somehow attempted to speak his name.

“I-I,” Peter almost stuttered, “hate to say it but I’m really close,” He watched as you pulled your face out from his neck, now studying him. He was falling apart below you, everything about you making him weak. Somehow, he felt as if he was becoming weaker just at the sight of you, “Y/N,”

Peter looked as if he was holding on for you, brows furrowed as his teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip. As you studied his lips, you decided to bring yours to his jaw, showering him in kisses. Some were sloppy and some were rougher than others as you attempted to help Peter over the edge he was holding onto, “Want you to cum,” You whispered against his skin, “Cum for me. Please?”

“S-Shit,” Peter breathed out. The curse rang with a slight laugh as you relieved him. With a few more rough thrusts, Peter filled the condom that was deep inside of you, “I-I wanted to last longer,” He informed, however his claim was cut short by your lips finding his own.

“Later,” You reminded him, “If you still want to-“

“I do-“ Peter interrupted. Clearing his throat at his desperation, he spoke again, “Yeah, yeah I’d like that,”

“Yeah,” You smiled, “I’d like that too,” You studied him as you still sat on his lap. However, that is when you remembered where you two were, “Shit-“ You raised yourself off of his lap. A shutter traveled through you as Peter quickly exited you.

“W-What?” Peter questioned awkwardly as the filled condom fell against the fabric of his shirt. Pulling it off of his dick, he tied it off before tossing it in the limo’s trash.

“How long has it been?” You questioned, nervousness rushing through you at the thought of the gala being over.

Your question made Peter’s shoulders round, wishing the limo’s seat would engulf him, “Was… was I that bad?”

“What?” You questioned as you collected yourself, looking out of the limo’s tinted window, “Wh- No- No. I-I meant how long have we been in here,” 

“Oh,” Peter spoke, attempting to make himself look presentable as well, “We should get back to the gala, “Hey- hey Friday, could you come back online please,”

“Of course Peter,” The system spoke as you placed your hand on the limo’s handle.

“W-Wait- hold on I’m almost-” Peter spoke but his claim was interrupted by your low voice.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get out at the same time… in case anyone sees,” Your words were cautious as if you were dancing around an insult, “Anyone being like the media… or-”

“Or Phil?” Peter questioned quite quickly.

“You know what I mean,” You spoke back defensively, “We don’t need any attention drawn towards you or a Stark controversy,”

“I know,” Peter responded, however you were already halfway out of the limo’s door.

Stepping into the cool night air, you took in a sharp breath. You did not mean to hurt Peter’s feelings, but it was just second nature to you. You always said the wrong things and somehow found yourself in arguments, but Peter was the last person you wanted to upset.

“Needed to cool off?” You heard Tony’s voice call out.

“Not now,” You groaned, however you dropped the attitude as you saw the rest of the group not too far behind him, “Party’s over?”

“Yeah you missed it. Where’s Pete? Was he holding your hair after all those drinks?” Tony asked, eyes scanning for Peter. You walked back towards the limo, hoping to warn Peter of the group’s presence before they could catch up. Opening the door you stuck your head into the vehicle, “I’m surprised Friday even let you in there,” Tony spoke as he approached you from behind. He waited for a remark from you. After all, he programmed the question just to mention you, however you were silent. Sticking his head in, he caught the last glimpse of what exactly was going on in his limo.

You pushed Peter away, who as soon as you entered the limo had caught you in a quite passionate kiss, “Not- not now-“

“Do I even want to sit in this limo?” Tony’s voice questioned, making you jump away from Peter’s hold. You sat down, putting a seat between the two of you, “My limo, may I add. God, I don’t even want to think about what you two did in here. And where you did it”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, the group’s presence unknown to him after he stopped you in your tracks as you entered the limo to warn him, “We didn’t…”

“Yeah Pete, real convincing,” Tony looked around as he climbed into the limo,  calculating where the safest place to sit might be, “Could you please just let me know if I’m about to sit in the splash zone or something,”

“I…I swear to fucking god,” You groaned, fingers now rubbing circles into your temples, “Can we all just get in and leave?”

“Why?” Tony questioned, attempting to hold eye contact with you as the rest of the Avengers piled into the limo, “Is there just something you’re dying to finish when we get back?”

“If something did happen tonight, shouldn’t you be glad? Took them long enough,” Natasha spoke, giving you a slight grin. Her red hair, once pulled back taut, now had a few loose pieces that fell against her cheekbones, “Plus, spare me. I’m getting a migraine from all that wine,”

“I’m trying to spare you” Tony spoke, fingers falling against his chest. Raising his opposite hand, he flashed the foil wrapper that sat between his fingers, “I don’t know what seat is safe,”

“Peter,” You groaned, covering your eyes as Tony tossed the wrapper towards you. You rubbed your temples as you heard Peter stutter from where he sat on your left.

“I mean,” Tony spoke, pouring himself another glass of whiskey from the limo’s bar, “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Good for you kid, she’s way out of your league,” Taking a sip, he looked towards you. “So much for lone wolf,”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfiction #spider-man #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #spider-man fanfiction #spider-man fic #spider-man fanfic #spider-man smut #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fanfic #spider man fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Chain getting complimented by their crush!

PT: 1 Time, Twilight & Wild

PT: 2 Sky, Four & Legend

Inspired by a submission from @fandomsarefamily1966, Thank you so much lovely! Hope y’all didn’t miss this series (or forget about it lmfao)

۵♡۵

Sky

Look, we know our boy is love-struck. It doesn’t take a genius to find that out.

Immediately weak in the knees with how hard he’s swooning.

Know that one panel of him with all those hearts around his heads and that wobbly smile as his inner circuitry just melts?

You could walk away and he’s just so enthralled in you, beautiful, amazing, talented, stole his heart from his chest you.

“Mornin’ Sky!” He was certainly glad that the first thing he heard upon waking up was your chipper, sing-song voice.

It was secret to about no one that he was trying and failing to court you. He couldn’t help the way his heart raced and his lungs didn’t draw air. But he was more that ok to have you consume his every waking thought so long as- shitheprobablyshould’verespondedtoyoubynow

“Good morning” He smiled, perhaps a little too wide for someone he ‘held as a close friend’ But then again, how could he care when it was your hand that ruffled his hair with a stifled laugh.

“You’re cute when you wake up” Platonic love his ass- He was sold. Yours until the end of time and his spirit had been laid to rest at long last. He leaned further into your hands, sighing as your nails scratched his scalp.

He’s such a hopeless romantic.

But he’s fine if it’s for you.

Four

Utterly hopeless like Sky, but a different brand.

For him, all it takes is the slightest bit of conformation that he is, in fact, wanted and cared for by someone he cares for so that he crumbles.

And that’s a tough psyche to break, contrary to a lot of belief.

Under most circumstances and situations, he is calm and rational. The colors usually had their harmony, one carefully managed by each pushing and pulling at the consciousness to retain a personality.

But you? You make that fly out the fucking window.

Any sense of previously held sense gets abandoned in favor of you. Memorizing you, cherishing you, loving you— if you’d let him.

The second he found an empty clearing his mind had already unraveled. The loose strings of thought had already been unwoven, each voice loosing and sense of sensibility within a short few minutes.

“Hylia above-“ Blue immediately took to kicking the nearest rock, trying to rid himself of such a foreign feeling.

“No use calling on her” Green sprawled out across the grass, staring into the wide expanse of sky in an effort to coax his mind off the linger of your voice.

“Not now anyway. Not with our devotion spent elsewhere” Vio sat beside where Green had laid, trying to find some footing within this. Logic usually held no place within love. Yet why was it that you captured him to?

“Where we’re thanked so greatly and paid in kisses” Red, stood unmoving from exactly where he split.

“Forehead kisses” Blue mumbled in correction

“Bet you wish they were somewhere else, don’t you?” Violet quipped, looking over his shoulder as Blue had an epiphany… or an aneurysm. It was hard to tell.

“Guys.”

“I know I do.”

“We know.”

“Guys!”

“Among other things.”

“We know!”

“Guys!” Three heads swiveled to look at him.

“Are we going to do something about this or are we going to just…” He gestured vaguely to his surroundings.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Legend

Would rather die that admit he caught feelings.

Not that he hates that he loves you. Quite the contrary. There’s a very soft, very precious part of him that loves you.

A part of him he used to bear freely.

The part of him he’s learned to hide away behind layers of prickly attitude and rude jabs.

But make no mistake, he holds you to a high degree.

He almost reverts in a sense, flipping back to that gentle loving before remembering who he’s learned to be.

“I love your rings” You whisper absentmindedly as you fiddle with his aching hands, massaging out his weary joints. It’s the most comfort he’s had in a long while, i’m multiple ways. His knuckles eased of their hollow sting, His hands warmed by the hold of another’s, his heart full and well tended to.

One day, he wishes he could give you one. Perhaps one with a protection charm…. The resistance cover…. one from the binded pair?

That thought makes him happy— a ring on your finger.

“Enjoying yourself there, Vet?” Twilight teased from behind him somewhere.

“Fuck off.”

#submission #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #lu sky #lu sky x reader #lu four #lu four x reader #lu legend #lu legend x reader #fir’s library

[mythicalmyles]

MYTH! Its been awhile! How are you doing? Btw im doing great!

Can i req something about like reader getting fucked stupid by a perverted and horny killer while he's walking through the woods? Like reader and his friends were just having a stroll in the woods and they end up splitting ways and reader got lost, his friends were trying to call him but he seems to left his phone in his house so they decide to look for him but they end up saw him butt naked and someone fucking him from behind!

You can choose any kinks if you want! I wont mind (Tbh your kinks and writings are the best!! And you never fail to make my day the best!!)

I hope toby is oke 🥺

Blackmail, dubcon, public, sub/bottom reader, violent, dark themes, quicky

(Name) let out an exasperated sigh as he stun in a circle, trees filling his vision. He began hating them, the dark beginning to freak him out now he was completely alone.

He paused as he spotted a hooded figure, heart beating faster. He quickly made his way to the figure assuming it was one of his friends, however dread filled him when a masked face turned to him. They stared at each other for a moment before (Names) shaky voice broke the silence. “I-if this is a joke, its not fu-funny.” He stuttered out, trying not to bolt.

Almost tauntingly the figure tilted its head, the size and build of him being unfamiliar and sending raw fear into (Names) stomach. Before (Name) could even draw another breath he was slammed against a tree, vision dancing as the bark scraped his skin. All he could do was choke out a rasp before an arm pressed against his throat, holding him into the tree. His vision started blurring as he stared into goggle covered eyes.

White fear flooded (Names) head as he gazed at the other man, stomach twisting with fear. All (Name) could do was whimper. “You wanna live?” (Name) nodded rapidly, the mans arm limiting his movements. “You make me cum, you get to live.” (Name) bit his lip, nodding again as he stared into the others eyes. “Toby, you’re gonna remember it.” (Name) shivered as he was turned around, Toby’s hands leaving indents in his hips.

“Pretty little thing, shouldn’t be out here all alone. There’s bad men out here, your lucky i found you.” Toby’s voice was laced with psychopathy, his tone almost gleeful as he made quick work of your jeans. He used (Names) own belt to bind his arms together behind his back, laughing when he voiced his discomfort. “Don’t worry princess, you’ll be just fine.” Was all the warning he got before Toby’s cock began pushing against his hole. A loud groan left (Name) as Toby slid into him, only his spit as lube.

Toby wasted no time before sliding out only to slam back in, a fiendish grin coating his cheeks as he listened to (Name) scream. Toby knew he wouldn’t have much time, not doubting for a moment that others heard it and would come looking. The thought didn’t stop Toby, rather seeming to spur him on as he set an almost brutal pace. All (Name) could do was moan, he could barely think as Toby’s cock split him open.

Toby stumbled back from the tree, pulling (Name) with him, continuing his thrusts ever moan he drew from the smaller spurring him on. His hand wrapped around (Names) neck and it wasn’t long before Toby’s hand was soaked in drool. The sudden appearance of three guys threw him for a moment, a dangerous smirk quick to slap over his face. He purposely sped up his thrusts as (Name) babbled, trying to explain himself. Toby’s murderous glare was quick to make them leave, the feeling of (Names) tight ass wrapped around his cock drove him insane, arms wrapping around him and gripping him tightly as he dove his cock into the (h/c). “Thats it pretty boy, all your friends just watched you get fucked. Bet you liked it, whore.” Despite the venom and hate in Toby’s words it didn’t stop (Name) screaming his name one last tome before falling into his arms, allowing the brunet to do as he pleased.

(Names) body ached as Toby rode out his orgasm, his large hands felt like they were going to crush him. Lucky for (Name) Toby came quick, pulling out and watching him drop. Toby’s empty eyes stared down at him. “You’ve probably got five minutes before the others are here and they cut that pretty throat open.” (Names) eyes doubled as he stared back at Toby, stomach going woozy at the sight of his smirk.

(Name) took a deep breath before rushing into a sprint, ignoring the burn at the bottom of his spine and the ghost of Toby’s hands crushing his hips.

#ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x malereader #ticci toby x male!reader #ticci toby x male reader #bottom male readee #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x male reader #creepy pasta x reader #creepypasta x male!reader #creepy pasta x male!reader #creepy pasta x male reader #creepypasta x malereader #creepypasta x male #myfic

[shrewstew]

My Stinky Teenage South Park Headcanons (long asl)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Pt. 1 - Kenny McCormick

Warning: Blood + SH scars, you have been warned

There’s some angst mixed in here, it’s like a big bag of trail mix except instead of m&ms you get sad

Kenny works at Tweak Bros along with Tweek, Craig, Red, and Wendy. He works the most amount of hours, and almost always gets employee of the month. It pisses Tweek off sooooo much.

During breaks, Tweek vents at him while he silently listens. Him and Craig stay silent, and show eachother memes sometimes. Him and Wendy are pretty friendly with eachother. Him and Red don’t really talk, cuz she’s popular and he sniffs paste, and being friends with Wendy doesn’t really change that.

He spends most of his free time either with the gang or at work. He is always on that grind 🔥💪

He sets things on fire for fun.

He also steals a lot, he is banned from the nearest Walmart

He gets the least amount of sleep out of the 4. He has a busy mind. But he also works late hours, and has to try to get his homework done. He usually tries to quiet his mind with dirty mags or by texting anyone who’s awake.

He doesn’t “come out” to anyone, he just gets a boyfriend one day and everyone just has to accept that.

He also never got diagnosed with anything until adulthood, cuz poor.

He likes big boobs, AND ☝️😲 men with large pectorals

He likes skirts, long ones specifically. He hates makeup tho, he tried to be a model for Karen but he kept unintentionally flinching away and she got fed up. He also likes painting his nails cuz it keeps him from chewing them to the bone

Parentification trauma. Forced to basically be a parent for Karen, he now struggles with setting boundaries and at times people pleasing. He is emotionally unstable and prefers to keep that shit to himself

He gets a lot of piercings, but they often get infected and close up due to lack of care

He does them himself. He bites a belt and takes his mom’s sewing needle in his skin like a champ. He uses earrings he stole from hot topic

He has a hard time taking care of himself, he hates brushing his hair, his teeth are rancid, he forgets to shower frequently, and I already mentioned his sleep schedule.

Karen likes to brush his hair for him, so she can practice braiding. She also tries to remind him to take care of himself, and he gets defensive cuz he thinks it’s embarrassing and feels bad for making her worry

He fucking loves horror movies I’ve decided. Also a big sci-fi fan.

(Tw s/h, I try to keep it vague) He still dies a lot. So he eventually develops a bad habit as a form of having control in his life. This is a troubling combination with his addictive personality.

Every now and then he goes hunting with Kevin on the weekends, and they are completely silent the entire time. It’s peak bonding. One time they brought back a moose.

They also spend some time together sitting on the porch drinking beer they stole from their dad, also in complete silence.

He does not have a license, and he is not trusted with cars. The family car is already a heap of shit, they don’t need him wrecking it in a freak accident.

I think he is one of those people who genuinely could vibe with any music genre. His playlist is genuinely confusing and whiplash inducing. I think he would like System of A Down, AC/DC, and The Bloodhound Gang (But that’s just me)

He is the kind of guy to not pay attention to anything the group is talking about, he is just dancing to the music playing on the mall speakers or something

Feel free to add your own

I don’t draw scars very often on characters, this likely isn’t super accurate, but I’m willing to learn how to make it not look like shit

#kenny mccormick #south park #headcanon #teen au #tweek tweak #craig tucker #wendy testaburger #karen mccormick #kevin mccormick #angst #south park headcanons #cringe #cringecore

[crappymixtape]

i hate you ( not )

REQUEST → anonymous, 500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ love a good enemies to lovers smutty fic – anything works, just lots of sarcasm and name calling to build up the tension • 18+ | ( 3.6k – a nice lil mountain of angst that rolls down into a big ol’ valley of smut, steve x reader )

I H A T E Y O U ( N O T ) 🎶 dopamine, julius black

“Are you seriously following me right now?” you didn’t even bother looking over your shoulder as you shouted over the crunch of Steve’s shoes in the gravel behind you trying to catch up.

He was fucking impossible. Always finding a way to get under your skin. Telling you the way you stocked the shelves at Family Video was wrong. Making fun of your beater of a car. Chewing his chips so loudly in the break room you thought it’d make you go certifiably insane. Always obnoxious, but easily dealt with til now. When he’d gone too far.

A party down at the quarry. Too much beer and smoke and haze and the crack of the bonfire against the inky black sky. You were trying to talk to a boy you’d run into at the store, a cute boy. One that didn’t smack his lips or slurp his soda. One that didn’t look at you like you were the bane of his existence and it had been going so well for once.

Had been.

Until Steve.

“Yeah, they’re so fucking good live. Maybe I can take you next time they’re in town?”

“I’d love that,” your stomach flipped over, grin pulling at the corners of your lips as Liam looked down at you through his dark curls. Smiled at you warm and soft. Eyes deep and green, like the trees along the fence line at night and god, it was just nice to be treated like this for once.

“You don’t even like them,” Steve’s voice cut in as he stepped up next to you beer in hand, and your cheeks burned. Bright red, embarrassed and angry.

Liam looked over at Steve, confusion pinching between his brows and then glanced down at you.

“Oh, I thought you said–”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” you insisted, turning your back to Steve and trying your best to smile up at Liam, but the warmth on his face had faded.

“Okay,” Liam said, drawing out the vowel. Drinking the rest of his beer he tossed the can into the fire and jammed his hands into his pockets, “Well. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Wait! A-are you leaving? You just got here,” you protested, trying not to sound desperate. Liam was so sweet and all you wanted for once was just to have a nice time, but he was already turning to walk back up the hill.

“Yeah, sorry. I gotta be up early for work. I’ll call you,” he said, but you knew he wouldn’t as he forced a smile. Gave you a small half wave before heading across the gravel of the quarry and up to his truck.

“But–don’t you want to–” you stopped yourself short knowing it was useless. Steve chuckled behind you and you felt heat rise in your chest again.

Eyes squeezing shut and hands balled into fists, your nails pressed half moons into your palms as you spun back around to Steve. The glare you gave him wiped the grin right off his face and his lips twisted into a scowl.

“What?” he asked stupidly and you huffed a sound of disbelief.

“What d’you mean, what?” you shot back, taking a few steps toward him, “You just fucked that up for me. On purpose!”

“I did you a favor, that guy’s an idiot,” Steve grumbled and you laughed then. A hollow, humorless one that pushed itself from your lungs.

“You’re a real dick, Harrington,” you said, stepping up to him in defiance and he crowded down over you. Looked at you like a challenge. Eyes lit up bright in the firelight. Melted caramel. Amber. Whiskey and honey and you didn’t shy away from it.

“Oh, yeah? Well you’re no ray of sunshine, princess,” he was close enough now you could feel his breath warm over your cheek and the air grew thick, too hot, and it had nothing to do with the summer heat or the fire.

“Asshole,” you half whispered, using what little resolve you had left to tear away from him and stalk up the same hill Liam had toward your car, leaving Steve behind in a lurch.

You could hear gravel crunching behind you, the slip and slide of rock on rock punctuated by Steve’s sharp breaths.

“Are you seriously following me right now?”

“Yeah, if you just–Jesus Christ–slow down!” Steve’s feet skidded as he nearly tripped, but you kept going, digging in your purse for your keys.

You didn’t want to stay, didn’t want to hear whatever bullshit excuse he had loaded. You couldn’t. Not without ripping into him. Fumbling your key in your hand you jammed it into the lock just as Steve caught up, hands on his hips as he sucked in gasps of air.

“C’mon. Can you just–can you just gimme a minute?” he asked, out of breath and tone edging on pleading, but you resisted turning around.

“Why the hell would I do that?” you asked against your car door.

“Shit, princess. D’you really hate me that much?” his tone was even softer this time and you shook your head.

“Only as much as you hate me,” you snapped.

Finally getting the lock undone, you tried to wrench the door open, but Steve’s hand stopped you. Pressed into yours and kept it shut.

“God, what’s your problem?” you turned to hurl daggers at him, but the words died in your throat when you realized just how close he was.

Toes bumping into yours, hair falling all messy across his forehead, chest still heaving with the effort of jogging up the hill and everything blurred. Dizzy and spinning and even though you hadn’t been the one running, you couldn’t catch your breath.

“I don’t have one,” he said voice low and you felt your lips fall open at the way it made your stomach twist.

The anger that had settled in your chest shifting into something else. Something that felt dangerous. Swallowing thick you tried to shake your head, shake him, and you pulled your hand away from his.

“Sure seems like it,” you mumbled, mouth firmed in a line, trying so hard to stand your ground.

His brows pinched together. A mixture of frustration, uncertainty. Struggling to put words to the feelings that were squeezing in his chest, just as conflicted as you were. He looked at you through the long sweep of his lashes, eyes searching yours and bit at the inside of his cheek.

He thought he’d been in love with you the minute you walked into Family Video. Wearing your cut off jeans and an old baggy Hawkins High basketball jersey. Hair pulled up away from your face so that he could see the soft curve of your shoulders, the baby hairs that curled at the nape of your neck. You looked grumpy, frustrated, and the frown twisting across your lips drove him crazy. So did the heat in your tone as you talked to Keith, telling him you wanted was ‘a stupid job’ to pay for your ‘stupid bills’ and god if he didn’t feel stupid for staring.

There was no way you didn’t have a boyfriend. You were too hot. Too funny and sharp and cool. Hell, even if you didn’t have a boyfriend he figured there was no way he’d have a chance, so he did what he always did. Acted like he didn’t care. Needled you, pestered you, got under your skin. Got a little mean with it, but he hadn’t expected it to backfire. Hadn’t expected you play back and fuck if it didn’t make it worse.

Took to calling you Princess because he loved the way you glared at him.

Ate half your lunch just so he had an excuse to walk you across the street for a bag of chips.

Said you did things wrong just so you’d shove at him, tell him ‘if he was so good at it why didn’t he show you?’

And when he finally figured out you were single he felt like he’d fucked up. Like he’d taken it too far and there was no way he could be what he really wanted to be for you. No way to tell you how badly he wanted to take you out. How badly he wanted to treat you right. Hold your hand and call you baby.

Hey, baby.

How much he wished he could press his lips into yours and see if you tasted all sweet and tart at the same time. Sour on the outside, sugar on the inside. How he wanted to run his hands up your legs, feel you under him, tell you things that’d pull sweet sounds from your lips, but now you were here at this stupid party. Now there was Liam and he couldn’t help it.

Anything to keep him away from you and now he felt like he was answering for everything.

“See?” you insisted at his hesitation, huffing a sigh and turning back into your car, but Steve grabbed at your hand and spun you around again.

“S’not you!” he said a little too loud, cheeks burning with his admission and he bit his lips between his teeth, “It’s everybody else.”

Your face shifted skeptical, a little cynical, but he was so damn close. Too close and you tried to pull in a breath. Tried to hold onto your anger, but it slipped through your fingers like water. Scattered like wishes on a breeze as the scent of his cologne made you go all hazy. The look in his eyes pouring into you like kerosene on a fire. Made you want to grab fistfuls of his shirt in your hands and feel the full weight of him on you and–

“I don’t see what that’s gotta do with me,” you sniped, trying to keep your tone short, but it came out softer and he took the opportunity and ran with it.

“Everything, actually,” his lips tugged up into a small sheepish smile, but dropped again as he realized there was more to say. “I know I’m a dick–”

“You think?” you cut in and he leveled you with a look.

“Thanks,” he muttered and it pulled a little grin from you, but the next thing he said wiped it off your face, “M’sorry,” and your stomach flipped over at the way he was looking at you. “I just…I wish it were me,” he said, lifting a hand to your cheek and tucking a few stray locks of hair behind your ear.

Wish it were me. Your heart was racing.

“Wish what was you?” you whispered. Afraid to hear the answer. Holding your breath as he leaned in. Nose nearly brushing over your cheek. Close enough to kiss you if he wanted and god did you want him to.

“The one askin’ you out,” he whispered back and it struck you silent.

How was that possible? He was awful. Annoying and irritating and obnoxious and now he was telling you he wanted to ask you out?

“So ask me, Harrington,” you murmured and watched as his brows lifted in surprise, lips parted into a little ‘o’ as his brain raced to catch up.

“Wai–what?” he stumbled over his words and you pressed a hand to his chest.

“Ask me,” you said again and he huffed a laugh, tongue jammed into his cheek as he looked back down at you.

“Okay,” he managed, licking over his lips as he gathered himself back up, “C-Can I take you out?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured, nerves giving way to confidence and you pulled him down into you a little closer. Pressed your lips against his ear and whispered, “Kiss me.” And it nearly knocked him over.

Pulling away you looked up at him, whispered his name like a question and it blew his pupils wide. Dark at the center and fringed in gold and it was enough to make him lean back down. Soft and tentative at first, but bolder and braver when you sighed into him.

An exhale. A release. A realization of what you’d wanted this whole time and it made you grab his shirt in your hands, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and the sounds you pulled from each other were greedy.

More more more.

Hands splaying out over his chest you slid them up his shoulders and into his hair, pulling it lightly as his tongue licked into you and the moan he loosed made you press your thighs together.

“Shit,” he hissed, fingers pressing into the plush of your hips, mouth dragging hot down your neck and across your collarbone. Kisses messy and slipping on your skin and god you needed him. “Christ, princess, you drive me crazy,” he admitted and you grinned, all smug and holding the upper hand, but then he slotted a leg between your thighs and you lost it.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Felt like he was the only thing keeping you from falling away and it made you hold onto him tighter. You could still hear the laughter and the music down at the bonfire, but it sounded so far away. Both of you hidden in the thick, indigo shadows that fell out under the stand of trees, dark enough to not care what you were about to ask.

“Steve,” you pulled away just enough to speak and he stopped, both of you panting short breaths into the space between you.

“Sorry, can slow down if you want–”

“No–shit–” you squeezed your eyes shut to focus, “Don’t stop.” Swallowing thick you opened your eyes again and looked right up at him, “Just get in.”

Hands slipping against your car you fumbled to open the door to the backseat and half shoved him in before piling in after. When you closed it behind you the small space was suddenly filled with the sounds of your breaths. Quick and nervous and anticipating.

Steve sat on the bench, just as anxious as you were, and watched with heavy lidded eyes as you climbed over him. Straddled him with a leg on either side. Your dress hitching up and bunching at your hips and all he could do was grab onto your thighs for dear life. Pressing a hand into the seat behind his head you bit your lip between your teeth and pulled in a steadying breath.

“Here,” you whispered, taking one of his hands and sliding it between your legs. Making him feel the heat that had pooled there, showing him what he was doing to you and he groaned. A filthy sound that fell from his lips as he pressed his fingers against your soaked panties.

“Fuck,” he rasped, already wrecked from feeling how wet you were. “Okayokayokay. So fuckin’ hot, babe. Shit,” nonsense fell from his lips and you had half a mind to laugh at him, but his fingers were pulling your panties aside and touching you not your panties and it pulled a gasp from you.

At the sound his eyes darted up to look at you, make sure you were okay and you put your hand back over his. Moving his fingers in slow circles as they slipped against your slick.

“Like that?” he asked eyes still on you, keeping up the motion as your hand fell away.

You tried to say yes, but it melted into another moan and he leaned in to press a kiss to your neck. Mouth open and messy. Licking against the softness of your skin and sucking a bruise on it.

“Tell me,” he said into the hollow behind your ear, trailing kisses as he went, your hips rocking against his fingers as his circles grew tighter and faster.

“Like that–ye–yeah–yes. God, don’t stop,” you stuttered over your words hands moving to grip onto his shoulders as he slipped first one then two fingers inside of you.

He filled you up better than you could at home, your cheek pressed into your pillow, tears welling up in your eyes in frustration as you struggled to reach the spot you wanted. The hot drag of him sliding in and out in and out made you see white, made your tighten your hold on him and as you loosed another moan he bucked up into you.

You could feel how hard he was through his jeans against the bare skin of your thigh and it only made you want him more. “Steve,” you leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his, “Please tell me you have a condom.”

His fingers stopped moving and he loosed a heavy sigh, swallowing down the nerves that had pushed themselves into his throat. “Yeah, course, lemme just–” lifting his hips, and you, from the seat he yanked his wallet out of his back pocket.

He had stopped carrying them around after high school. Felt like it was fucking juvenile, but one time after Steve had watched you leave work, put his returns in the wrong spot and upside down, Robin had thrown one across the store at him. “Here, dingus,” she’d grumbled, “Don’t be an idiot.” And he’d been so embarrassed, afraid to tell her he didn’t think he’d ever need it, but he silently thanked her now. Always saving his ass.

Gently nudging you back into the headrests on the front seats he put his wallet down and fumbled his fingers against the button on his jeans. He was hard as a rock and when he undid his zipper it sprang out without any encouragement.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he ripped the foil of the condom wrapper between his teeth and thumb. Of course he drove you crazy at work, but you couldn’t deny you’d thought about him when you were alone in your room. Touching yourself beneath the sheets. Fantasizing about what it would be like and now that you were seeing it for real your heart hammered in your chest, legs slipping together as you grew wetter by the second.

He wrapped a hand around his length pumping once, twice, three times before rolling the condom down from tip to root and looking back up at you.

“Y’okay?” he asked, hands moving to hold onto your hips and you realized how ridiculous you must’ve looked.

“Mmhm,” you murmured and let him pull you slowly back into his lap.

“Gotta tell me if you aren’t,” he whispered and you nodded as he gave you a little smile, brushed your hair out of your face and looked just a little longer. “So pretty,” he said softly, words lighting a fire in your chest, and you pressed a kiss to him again. Sucking on his bottom lip and letting it go with a dirty pop and he thought he was going to come right there on the spot. “Sh–shit, okayokay,” he breathed, pressing his tip against your entrance, hesitating just a little and you helped him the rest of the way, pushing down slowly.

You watched as he filled you up, stretched you out until he was buried deep inside you, the tight fit making you squirm over him.

“Ohhh god, so tight, feel so good babe, Christ,” he rambled and you chuckled a little until he hit the soft, squishy spot at the back of you and you moaned loudly. Fell forward onto his chest and rolled your hips forward, silently begging him to move as if he could do anything else. “I got you,” he promised.

Hands gripping your hips again he slowly turned and lowered you down, your back against the seat bench, his arms on either side of you to hold himself up. Murmured soft, dirty things under his breath as he crowded over you, started rocking his hips into you, the wet sounds of you filling up the car.

“Wish you’d asked me sooner,” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist and he gave you a smug little smile.

“Yeah? Worth the wait?” he asked, breath hitching in his throat as he picked up the pace, fronts of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours.

“Shut up,” you gasped as he bottomed out inside of you. Tangling your fingers into his hair you pulled and it dragged a groan from him as he started to fuck you faster. Slipping a hand between your legs you drew tight, messy circles over your clit, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Ste–shit. Steve, harder,” you practically begged and the pleading tone in your voice sent him.

“Harder,” he said back, it was all he could muster, wrecked and chest heaving with each breath he sucked in, fucking into you with heavy thrusts, “M’so close.”

Opening your mouth a so close almost fell from your lips too, but the coil in your stomach had been so tightly wound that the combination of your fingers over your clit and Steve finally made it snap.

You clenched tight around him as you both rode out your climax. Head pressed against the seat and eyes rolling back to look out the window at the stars. The moon as it hung lazy in the sky. Steve spilling sweet words of praise into your ears and bringing you back down to earth. Wrapping you up soft and warm in his voice.

He rested his forehead against yours, both of your brows dewy with sweat, and let out a contented sigh as he softened inside you.

“Wish I’d asked you sooner too,” he murmured, poking fun at himself with your words from earlier and you leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Worth the wait,” you finally agreed and he grinned.

God damn, was it worth the wait.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #asks #requests #500 follower celebration #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve smut #steve angst

[yourleftpinkytoe-blog]

Aftg x FNAF fic idea.

BACKGROUND

February, 1997- drake spear is (dishonorably) discharged from the marines.

the spear family decides to purchase a local pizza place (the upper middle class family thought it would be a good environment to raise foster kids also it’s a place where Richard can put his robotic prowess to use)

they have had two (foster kids) so far and for some reason none of them stick.

June, 1997- drake moves out of his parents house.

July, 1997- the business takes off under the spears management.

Children love the robots.

October, 1997- a child goes missing at the restaurant.

The police questioned the owners but determined none had anything to do with it.

They were wrong.

March, 1998- 12 year old Andrew Doe was placed in the care of the spears.

Two months later he meets drake (he was busy with the investigation and didn’t want to risk getting caught)

Andrew got quiet after that. (more so than usual)

The next two years are basically the same as canon for Andrew except the existence of Freddy Fazbears.

June, 2000- four children go missing at the pizzeria.

Drake tries to make Andrew watch the last one.

Andrew fights back(for the first time)

He couldn’t care less about himself but he draws the line at watching drake hurt other kids.

June, 2000- the Andrew Doe became the fifth victim of the 2000 missing children’s incident.

None of the children’s bodies are found.

Backtrack to two years earlier.

The business is loosing patronage because of the first murder.

Nathan Wesninskie, mob boss and serial killer, Nathan sees the goings down and decides to invest in the company to keep it going.

{Idk his reasoning but bare with me here}

Back in July, 2000- Nathan sends Lola and the newly caught Alex Nathaniel to clean up drakes mess.

Dead kids is not something Nathan wants to publicly be associated with.

Nathaniel tries to run.

Andrew gains a friend.

They are two enraged and vengeful souls stuck in the same vessel.(golden Freddy)

The actual story

Aarons pov. October 2000

He’s alone.

His mom is distant and neglectful.

But she’s never hurt him.(in canon she doesn’t start hurting him till after he contacts Andrew)

She’s high a lot.

She had a date with some guy and she lets him come with her. It’s at an exy game.

He likes exy.

This stranger keeps calling him Andrew and asking where he’s been.

He’s a police officer .

He has had a twin.

He steals his mom’s pills to ease the ache of what could have been.

He hates his mom for giving Andrew away. He hates the spears for letting Andrew out of their sight, he hates Officer Huggins for telling him about Andrew, most of all he hates himself for not being able to do anything to help Andrew.

His mom takes one too many pills when he’s 16, he doesn’t cry at her funeral.

He’s lucky Nicky cares.

They greave the “what if” together.

He’s 20, with a scholarship at palmetto university. He plays exy with Nicky.

He likes exy

He wonders if Andrew would have liked exy.

He’s been sober for years.

He and Matt really helped each other with their sobriety.

Kate also helps.

Every year on the date of his brothers disappearance he goes to the memorial. (There are no grave for a missing nobody, a Doe)

The spears knew but they didn’t want to think about it.

If they pretend Andrew never existed, then it never really happened, right.

Someone else is at the memorial.

Hes never really believed the spears were entirely innocent

the lady tells him about Freddy fazbears

She looks like a broken woman

(She lost her son)

Something doesn’t feel right

Over summer break he gets a job as a nighttime security guard.

His family comes with him for moral support (the foxes)

He is going to find out what happened to his brother.

And Andrew is going to fucking kill anyone who tries to hurt him or any of the other children.

(In his eyes anyone who is there at night is a threat)

Nothing good had ever happened when someone comes near him at night.

Then stuff happens and Aaron eventually finds out what happened to Andrew and he kills drake. In the end Andrew, Neil and the other kids are set free.

The sub plot would involve Andrew and Neil slowly growing to trust each other and the other dead kids forming a bond that starts to heal their mental wounds. Kinda their both still angry and vengeful ghosts who’s only purpose (in their minds) is to protect the other kids)

Andrew died fighting for them and that followed him into death and Neil ran when he saw Andrew’s corpse and although he ran for himself after death he feels unexplainably protective over Andrew.

NOT A ROMANTIC STORY FOR NEIL AND ANDREW. THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS PLATONIC BECAUSE THEY ARE FOURTEEN AND THIRTEEN AND DEAD. (They don’t need romance they need some who will stand unwavering at their side)

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #the foxes #the foxhole court #aftg fanart #neil josten #aftg fic #aftg crossover #fnaf au #I’m sorry I just needed to get this out of my head #feel free to write it #fanfic #first attempt at writing #angst #aftg angst #aaron minyard #drake spear #Cass spear #nathan wesninski #dan wilds #matt boyd #nicky hemmick #lola malcolm #I’m so sorry

[kickinganddriving]

Somebody Else

Notes: Requested by @starry-night-reid. I MISS PULI SO MUCH

paring: Christian Pulisic x reader

Song suggestion: Somebody Else- The 1975

Warnings: Swearing, super minor mentions of smutty things, sad christian

wc:1.4k

pt 2

I don't want your body

But I hate to think about you with somebody else

Our love has gone cold

You're intertwining your soul with somebody else

I'm looking through you

While you're looking through your phone

And then leaving with somebody else

No, I don't want your body

But I'm picturing your body with somebody else

It was a random Tuesday morning, the sun beaming through the windows of Christian’s apartment, at the moment he was mindlessly scrolling through instagram, in passing he saw a familiar face. He scrolls up and see’s your face, with another man kissing your cheek. The minute he could process what was going on in the photo, he felt a deep seed of jealousy plant itself in his stomach. His eyes fixate on the location tag on the post, London UK.

You and Christian broke up almost a year ago, but it had seemed that you had moved on faster than him. While you were dating, you weren’t just a piece of arm candy, you were his best friend, and with the break up Christian lost too much in one person. You dated for 2 1/2 years and it was the last time Christian felt truly happy, but he broke up with you. You got you an offer from your dream job, but it was back in the states. All he ever wanted was for you to be truly happy, which later bit him right in the ass. You worked there for around 7 months before they opened an office near London, and you chose to move back. Out of fear that he already met someone else or moved on, he was never told of your arrival.

5 months later you found yourself seeing a nice man, around the same age, who lives in your apartment complex. He has nice dark eyes, brown curly hair, and... god dammit, he’s like the Walmart Christian. He was a nice man, you could see yourself living a life with him. Would there be something missing, yes, but you could try to move past that. 

But for Christian, the past year had been absolute hell for him. He kept on getting injured, went to the world cup, but got taken out too early for his liking, and the one person he could always go to wasn’t his to go to anymore. The instagram post didn’t make it any better, not at all. While he was scrolling through your page, he saw one of the photos he took off you, it was his favorite photo. So entranced in the picture in front of him, he mindlessly liked it. Realizing what he did, he looked at the post date, 1 year ago. He fucked up.

And c'mon baby (I know)

This ain't the last time that I'll see your face

And c'mon baby (I know)

You said you'd find someone to take my place

After spending almost the entire 3 days wallowing in his room, barely responding to Mason or Ben’s texts and calls, the pair made it a point to get Christian out of the house and into a club. The guys thought clubs could fix almost any problem because it contained the holy trinity, music, alcohol, and girls. After quite literally dragging Christian out of his home, he found himself perched on a barstool, nursing a beer that was once cold, looking depressed as shit.

But guess where your now boyfriend wanted to go tonight, just guess? The same as the club that Ben and Mason had to choose. When you walked in the club you instantly recognized the face of one Mason Mount, but in trying not to draw too much attention to yourself, you just scurried off to a booth and waited for your boyfriend to come back with drinks. After a few drinks you found your way to the dance floor, trying to have a good time, but guess who else you saw, Benjamin James Chilwell. After a second of awkward eye contact, your boyfriend hobbled off to the bathroom, after he escorted you to the bar. 

After you told the order to the bartender, you heard a voice, a clear, distinct, and familiar voice. A voice that gave you the chills from miles away. 

“Your drink order still hasn’t changed” 

You turn your head to catch a glimpse of the person talking to you, Christian Fucking Mate Pulisic. He looked exhausted, not long after training exhausted, but mental torment exhausted. Your natural instinct was to give him the biggest hug and a kiss on the cheek, but you restrained.

“Christian” his name was the only thing you could say. Paralyzed with emotion, you couldn’t move, think, or barely speak. His name, something you’ve said countless numbers of times, moaning it like a prayer, sleepily whispering under your breath, saying it with the largest smile on your face, or the last time you said it to him when you kissed him for the last time as he dropped you off at the airport. 

“Yes jellybean?” You were nearly crying after he called you “jellybean”. Nobody has called you that in a year, but Christian always called you jellybean, because of your weird childhood obsession with them.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” You said trying to find a way to try to make the entire situation better.

“To find out that you came back to London, or that you are dating someone else?” Christian says with an ounce of disbelief in his tone.

“Both” You nervously whimper, trying not to say something that could ruin the entire night even more.

“Who is he anyway? He looks looks me, but from fucking Walmart.” You missed his sense of blatant honesty and sarcasm when he had an ounce of alcohol in his system.

“You mean Sam? You innocently exclaim.

“Fucking Sam” He exasperatedly says after taking a swig oof his lukewarm beer.

“We should really talk sometime soon Chris”

Get someone you love

Get someone you need?

Fuck that, get money

I can't give you my soul

'Cause we're never alone

It had been a week since that night at the bar, and he could think about you. He had finally had enough, so after using a few favors he figured out where you lived. Being the stupid, lovesick, idiot he was, he didn’t think of taking an Uber, or driving himself to your apartment, no, he had to run in the rain without a jacket halfway across London.

It was a regular Friday evening, Sam was coming over with pizza in an hour, and you were peacefully on the couch watching Friends and a comfy set of lingerie and a short and pink silk night dress. You heard the doorbell ring, but you were not expecting anyone yet, so you went and opened the door. Behind the door revealed a drenched Christian.

“Christian what are you doing here?” You say with a slight chuckle.

“I love you, I love you so much” Christian holds and caresses your jawline with his cold hands as he pronounces his affection for you.

“Christian I-” He suddenly kissed you, it was not your first kiss, but it made it feel like it was your first kiss. The way you got butterflies in your stomach, something you haven’t felt in a while. Kissing him back, everything felt perfect, like the world was at peace and everything was perfect.

“Before you even mention Sam, I love you, and I don’t know why I let you go, and you just look so fucking beautiful right now, and I miss everything about you, jellybean” He says it so fast you almost couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.

“I love you too.” Right after the words left your lips, you were suddenly on his lips. Slowly backing up as he kicks the door closes and pushes your back up against the wall. Your lips move in perfect synchronization, as he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist so he has control of your mobility.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Christian manages to slip past his lips in midst of your kissing.

“Third door on the left” He carried you down the hallway into your room and slowly dropped you on the bed and he leaned over to continue kissing you. But then you both heard the find of the doorbell and a faint call.

“Babe open the door before the pizza gets cold” You then remembered about Sam.

“Oh shit”

#christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #the 1975 #somebody else

[sabo-has-my-heart]

hiieee i LOVE ur ace stories :3 do you think you could please write an ace x gn!reader where the reader is nervous about their body image, especially when it comes to how much they eat. maybe they're jealous that ace can eat whatever he wants and still look super hot and lean. and ace reassures them that he loves them no matter how they look. thank youuu <333

I'm so glad you like my Ace stories. It's so sad that people don't have good body image, even if they're healthy or look great. That being said, I don't specify what size that they are only that they 'feel chubby' and that they're not super muscular (who is?).

Warnings: GN!Reader

Word Count:1370 

     Looking down at the food in front of you, you tried your best to hold yourself back. You’d been trying to cut back on how much you eat, tried working out to work on how you looked, but it didn’t seem to be helping much. Glancing over, you watched your boyfriend demolishing a large piece of meat, 2 helpings of pasta, a bowl of rice, and something that looked like it had once been a vegetable before Ace got to it. You, on the other hand, had barely touched the diet food you’d asked Thatch for and knew you were already gaining 10 pounds. Sometimes you hated your boyfriend, or more specifically, you hated how he could eat 50 pounds of food and come out 20 pounds lighter! His body always looked like it had been sculpted from marble, arms, chest, and abs that were to die for. Muscles that rippled and could lift just about anything, the way his body glistened with sweat under the hot sun, the light bouncing off every dip and curve of his glorious body. 

     Whereas you, on the other hand, swore you’d been a child’s clay project that had turned into the lumpy form of a human. Looking in the mirror, all you ever saw was the chub on your sides, the pudge in your stomach, and how thick your thighs were. You were strong, you knew that, you were strong and capable, perhaps not as strong as one of the division commanders, but you could certainly hold your own. At first you’d figured you just needed to work out more, after all, a lot of the well muscled guys on the Moby Dick did a lot of hard work. So you worked hard, trained… and lost 5 pounds. Alright, well maybe it was how much you ate and what you ate. Thatch was a great cook, how could you not want to eat his cooking? So you’d tried cutting back and tried dieting… you hadn’t even lost 5 pounds and were constantly hungry. How was it that Ace could eat whatever he wanted, sleep 10 hours a day, goof off, and still be shredded as fuck?! 

     Ace glanced over at you, picking at your food. You looked miserable and he knew why. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Thatch’s diet food, Thatch was a great cook, it was that you were in a slump about how you looked. Ace put on a sympathetic smile as he put a hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, drawing you out of your thoughts.

     “You know, you look stunning in this light.” Ace said, nuzzling the top of your head. It was technically true, you looked stunning in the light, but then, you looked stunning in any light. Despite how you felt about your looks, he couldn’t help but think you looked like the most dazzling person on earth. Granted, even if you didn’t look great, he’d still love you, he didn’t love you for your looks, he loved you because of who you were. Your looks were just a bonus. You smiled at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before eating your food, your mood picking up as you took his hand, holding it as you ate. Glancing back over at you, he wondered if he could get you to raid the kitchen with him. While he might know and understand how you felt about your body and weight, he missed raiding the fridge with you, missed eating everything together, and missed enjoying everything you ate together. To be completely honest, your love of food was one of the things that had first attracted him to you, you could both just sit there and enjoy what you were eating and talk about how great it was. He’d still support you if you wanted to work on your body image and do whatever he could to help, he was never worried about what you looked like. In fact, if anything, he loved the way you were. The ‘pudge’ that you worried about being on your stomach was soft, huggable and a great pillow. The thighs that you fretted were ‘too big’, allowed his fingers to sink in the perfect amount when he picked you up. The ‘chub’ on your sides that troubled you constantly was just right for cuddling at night when he’d nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Hell, even if you were on the chubbier side, it’s not like you were unhealthy or anything. In fact, if anything, Marco had said you were one of the healthier members of the crew.

     Ace smiled as you wrapped his arms around you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder as you two sat on his bed.

     “You’re absolutely amazing, you know that?” Ace muttered, squeezing you a little tighter. This was one of the things he loved most about your body. You couldn’t really squeeze muscles. You either held a muscular person loosely or you held them tight and couldn’t give them good, loving squeezes. With you, he could hold you close, his arms wrapped comfortably around you, not tight but not loose, but he could pull you closer, tighten his hold, and envelop you in his warm embrace.

     “I… I don’t understand how you can think that.” you said with a sigh, even as you nuzzled your head against his.

     “I think it because it’s true. You’re kind, loving, sweet, beautiful. What other word could I use for you besides ‘amazing’?” he asked, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

     “Chubby, overweight, plump, gluttono-ow!” you glared at him, as he pinched your arm.

     “First of all, you’re none of those things! Just because you’re not particularly muscular, doesn’t mean you aren’t the most attractive person on the planet. Secondly, you’re not chubby or anything, you’re perfect. And thirdly! Even if you were those things, I didn’t start loving you and dating you because of your looks! I love you no matter what you look like.” Ace said sternly, putting a hand on your cheek and making you face him, “I’ll always love you for you, for your heart. You could become the most hideous, fattest person on the planet and I’d still love you and think you were amazing. So stop saying that shit and come raid the kitchen with me.” he said, giving you a sweet, gentle kiss. You couldn’t help but smile at him as you nodded. To be honest, you were still pretty hungry and you hadn’t raided the kitchen together in quite a while.

#one piece #one piece ace #portgas d. ace #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #op Ace #portgas d. ace x reader #hiken no ace x reader #hiken no ace #gn!reader

[rubyreduji]

[minors dni]

music major jihoon whose friends forced him to take the class with them but jihoon is absolute shit at art and he knows it

so the first couple weeks go awful. jihoon's hands are made to make music, not draw anatomy. he can tell the teacher hates him too because why is he so fucking awful at this

then once all of the intro stuff is done jihoon walks into class one day and sitting in the middle of the room is the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. then the professor starts the class and it slowly dawns on him what is happening and then holy shit you're naked and of course you are because its a figure drawing class so they're going to be drawing figures but still what the fuck

and the professor is going on about how everyone should be appropriate and respectful but jihoon's dick is already half hard and he can't stop staring at your perky nipples that are the prettiest color jihoon has ever seen

jihoon realizes that everyone else is getting their supplies ready and he fumbles around to do the same. in the middle of the room a cloth is laid out on a small platform and you drape yourself over it. your legs hide your core but your breasts are still on full display and jihoon thinks he's not going to have blood circulation in his brain after this

jihoon is already bad at art and now he can't even focus properly because you're all soft curves and smooth skin and holy shit you keep staring at him back and why are you doing that because its making jihoon's dick even harder now. your eyes are sultry yet soft and jihoon has to keep shifting around just so he can hide the tent in his sweats

the whole class jihoon struggles to get his drawing finished. he goes to draw a line and then he gets distracted by the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hip and he can't do it

"fifteen more minutes and then we'll see how every did, okay?" the professor calls out and jihoon panics

quickly he starts to sketch, trying his best to capture all of your beauty. when the fifteen minutes is up he wants to cry. his picture doesn't even look like a human body, let alone the godly figure you have

reluctantly jihoon turns his canvas around and he wants to hide away forever. everyone else's drawings are smooth, accurate lines that capture your nature perfectly while he has scribbles and lumps

you stand up and walk around the class to inspect the pictures yourself. you tie your robe back on but its so loose that everytime your body moves slivers of skin are revealed and your breasts are practically spilling out, your cleavage on full display

when you get to jihoon's you stare at it before cocking your head to hte side a bit. "huh. it's...unique." jihoon wants to die in a hole holy shit. "not awful, just different," you assure him but jihoon is still incredibly embarassed. enough that his dick is starting soften again even though your breasts are practically in his face

the professor tells everyone to finish up their drawings before next class and jihoon is in turmoil as he walks out of class, held hung low

"hey! excuse me!" jihoon stops when he hears a soft voice calling him. he turns to see you and he flushes. "hi! i noticed you sort of struggled in class, which is totally normal, but i was just wondering if you wanted any help? i'm an art major too so."

"i'm actually a music major"

"see even more reason to accept my help! but, only if you want!"

"no you can uh, yeah...i'd like the help"

"great are you free right now?"

and maybe it's a good thing jihoon is bad at art because now he's in your apartment getting his dick sucked by you

in your defense, you guys did start out doing art but the second you stripped of your clothes jihoon's dick decided to make an appearance again. you were trying to convince jihoon his art skills aren't that beyond hope when you noticed it and realized why jihoon was struggling so much. and so you decided to help him out in a different way

so now you're on your knees, sucking at the head of his cock

"h-holy fuck," jihoon mutters. your tongue is digging right into his slit and jihoon is losing his mind over it. his hands grip your hair in his fingers. "oh shit, shit, fuck." jihoon is cumming, painting the inside of your mouth white. you suck him dry until he finishes cumming and when you pull off jihoon slumps back in his seat

you wipe at your mouth before giving him a smile. "how was that?"

"holy shit y/n," jihoon says breathlessly

"mmm," you hum as you reach down and start to finger yourself, your fingers slip in and out of your wet pussy. jihoon stares intently at the way your folds glisten

"fuck," jihoon whispers before he's sliding onto the floor next to you. he moves your hand away from yourself so he can replace it with his own digits. you gasp when he pushes two in

"f-fuck. so thick"

jihoon's dick aches painfully. he just came but his dick is stirring around, his biological need to fuck you overpowering his refactory period

his fingers are drenched from your arousal by the time his dick starts to rise again. he removes his fingers from you and wraps his hand around his dick, using your slick as lube to get him up to full mast

"j-jihoon," you whine. quickly he positioned you two and slides into your needy pussy

"god you're so hot," jihoon mumbles. he slowly starts to move his hips and when he realizes there's not resistance, your pussy willing and ready, he quickly picks up the pace

soon you two are going at it like rabbits. jihoon pistons in and out of you at a rapid pace while you moan like a pornstar under him. he grips your thighs and pushes them up at your chest, fucking into you even harder at the new angle

it takes maybe four more thrusts max for you to cum around jihoon's dick, drenching his thighs as you squirt all over him. jihoon groans at the feeling and quickly pulls out so he can jerk himself to completion all over your stomach

you're both panting heavily as try to recover from what just happened. you're bodies are thrumming with pleasure and adrenaline and when you suggest to jihoon that you guys for round two in the shower he quickly obliges

he never does get his art project finished

#seventeen #svt #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fanfic #woozi smut #woozi x reader #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #svt woozi #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #rru.fics #rru.writes #★ mdni

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Cash Wheeler NSFW Alphabet

Word count: 1286

Main Masterlist Cash Wheeler Masterlist

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I can see Cash either being really sweet or an asshole and stand off ish

He isn’t big into aftercare but is willing to try and learn and make it part of his routine if you want him to

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Cash doesn’t really have a favorite part on himself 

If he had to pick it would be his chest, he loves the way you bury your face into his chest

His favorite part on you is your waist/hips/ass

He likes to grab your hips when you two go at it

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

It’s no secret that Cash is filthy. He loves to cum all over you

He loves the sight of it on you, whether that's in or on you

If he had to pick just one there is nothing he loves more than the feeling of him cumming inside of you, he loves the way your bodies just fit perfectly as if they were made for each other

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This man is a man whore

He is filthy

His dirty secret is being used by you

He loves it when you ride him, using him as a toy

I can see this man also having a secret mommy kink

As tough as he is he secretly loves it when you dominate him

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Cash is definitely experienced 

He has slept with A LOT of women during his career

Sleeping with random women he would meet at a bar after a show

He has had way more one night stands than relationships 

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Cowgirl, he absolutely loves it when you ride him

Missionary (many say its basic but he likes it)

He loves to bend you over the nearest surface and hit it from behind

The Seashell (Basically Fem has her legs over her head while M pounds into her)

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Unless he is angry or in a bad mood he is pretty chill

There are times were the two of you have had full ass conversations during sex

Talking about work, and how he is planning his next match

Cash is a talker, he told you that he hasn’t been such a talker during sex until you came along. Apparently you had made him so comfortable that sometimes he just likes to have normal conversations with you even though he's balls deep into you

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Does have hair but is maintained

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Cash isn’t really a romantic 

He can be intimate when he wants you, reminding you to breathe, drawing circles on your back, soothing you with gentile rubs and kisses, reminding you that he does care about you even if he has a hard time of showing it

He has a bit of a hard time expressing his emotions

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

This guy is like a teenage boy

He Masterbates at least once a day

Multiple if he is stressed or missing you

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink

Praise kink

Orgasm control

Mirror sex

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

This man can and will have sex wherever he can

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

This man can get turned on by anything 

You will sometimes wear short dresses that you know will drive him crazy 

He is always in the mood when around you

You don’t even have to do anything and he is turned on

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Cash likes to try many things but I don’t see him being a huge fan of bondage

No crazy age play

No filming (if you can believe it)

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves it, he loves to receive but will give every now and then but boy does he know what he is doing

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Cash is more fast and rough

There is nothing he loves more that a nice rough hate fuck 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Cash isn’t big on quickies unless he needs a quick fuck in the locker room

He would rather take his time with you

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Cash is willing to try everything at least once

He loves to try new things and take risks (of course with your approval)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Cash lasts a good amount of time

He is typically satisfied for one round but depending on the mood he will go multiple 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Surprisingly he's not really into toys

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Cash doesn’t like to tease 

Mostly because he is too impatient to teases 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Cash is not too loud

The sounds he make are more animalistic grunts ect

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

“Cash” I let out his name in a breathy moan, “We shouldn't be doing this” I said truthfully. If Nick and Matt found out that I was sleeping with one of their biggest rivals they would definitely not be happy. “Shhhh, Baby” Cash told me, stopping my rambling with a kiss to my lips. “They won’t find out baby, plus if your brothers found out it would be a bit funny. They can’t hate me more than they already do right?” From the beginning of this ‘booty call’ relationship I knew it was wrong and Cash knew I was always nervous about getting caught. The truth was each time we finished I would promise myself that it would be the last time this would happen between us. Of course I was wrong, I shouldn't have answered his text when he asked if I was up. He knew I would be up at this hour, he knew I could never fall asleep, he knew I was bored so of course he knew I would answer his text message. Although I wanted this relationship between us to end because of how wrong it was, my body wouldn't let me. He made me feel so good, I needed him so bad. 

“And plus, if they found out it would mean that we don’t have to keep hiding anymore” Cash’s words were true. It would mean we didn’t have to hide anymore but the truth wasn’t a reality I was ready to face….just yet. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Hes around 5-6 inches but THICK

Like extremely thick

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is pretty high, you two pretty much do it every other day

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Cash is a sleepy boy

He always likes to sleep 

He doesn't fall asleep instantly but most of the time before you do

#bullet clubs bitch #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #aew fanfiction #ftr #ftr aew #cash wheeler #cash wheeler imagine #cash wheeler x reader #cash wheeler smut #cash wheeler aew #cash wheeler fanfic #dash wilder #dash wilder fanfic #pro wrestling

[majjiktricks]

plss gimme the fucked up ocelot/liquid dynamics

i dont know if this is gonna make any sense because i just wrote it in a haze but

i definitely think ocelot is weird about all of the bibo clones. he has way too much fun torturing snavid, and he works closely with solidus during mgs1-2. those two look the most like bibo, so ofc he has a strange attraction to them.

for liquid i think its a little more complicated because a) he met liquid as a child. but he didn't watch him grow up, and i dont think he felt any kind of familial bond with him. he was an annoying little shithead for a few months and then he fucked off into the wilderness to live with a bunch of other feral children.

and b) due to the whole liquid-miller situation. i have a lot of thoughts on ocelhira and how it mightve played out, and half of them contradict the rest, but i do think ocelot genuinely liked kaz and liked working with him. whether or not that was reciprocated is where my contradictory thoughts lie. they likely worked together post-1984 in foxhound, but it's unclear for how long.

so fast forward to 2005 where hes working with liquid, who has grown up into a handsome man who, aside from the hair, is the spitting image of big boss. hes more vindictive and hateful, but still eerily similar. his motivation to create a safe place for the genome soldiers mirrors big boss's goal of a nation of soldiers. and hes willing to blow up the rest of the world to do it. hes got a similar inspirational charisma that lands him leadership of foxhound, commanding the rest of the mgs1 bosses and the entire genome army.

so not only does ocelot draw parallels between him and big boss, which has tangled romance feelings involved, but also when liquid decides to kill miller and impersonate him, ocelot gives him a lot of information in order to be convincing (im assuming). tapes and videos and records to get to know miller better, and ocelot watches him literally transform into a copy of younger miller, very similar in age to when ocelot first met miller. (assuming they met at some point after 1975, kaz wouldve been early 30s, and liquid is also early 30s in 2005).

liquid's impression is of foxhound miller, but its probably still uncanny and takes ocelot off guard. so now hes contending with his past relationship with big boss AND miller, with whatever insane feelings he must have about the two of them focused into one guy.

the entire time this is happening, ocelot is working to undermine the entire plan and conspiring with solidus. so he doesnt fully respect liquid nor does he take him seriously. their interactions with each other feel like ocelot is just going along with whatever liquid says, because liquid thinks hes in charge. ocelot is willing to be insulted and humiliated by liquid to advance the overarching plan. (solidus' to overthrow the patriots using the data stolden from REX, ocelot's to later betray solidus and maintain the patriots. all that fuckery.)

but i think ocelot is having the time of his life during this. it feels like working with big boss. it feels like working with miller. every time liquid puts on the sunglasses or gives an order as the boss of foxhound, its like standing in the room with one of two ghosts that feels entirely real. thats gotta be confusing as fuck. but also hot.

so i think ocelot has a lot of conflicting feelings on liquid but ultimately is attracted to him, not for who liquid is, but for who he reminds ocelot of. its something ocelot can have a little fun with while still achieving his overall goal of supporting the patriots. (until its his turn to overthrow them. jesus christ ocelot why is your plan so convoluted.)

meanwhile liquid i think believes ocelot IS the foolish old man he portrays himself as during mgs1. he didnt respect ocelot when they met in the 80s, and he still doesnt take him seriously in 2005. i dont think liquid is interested in ocelot at all. if anything, it would simply be for the power trip of controlling his father's former right-hand man. possibly feelings of anger/hate from ocelot's close association with big boss. he probably realizes ocelot has some kind of feelings toward him, maybe not realizing the extent of it, but uses this to his advantage. perhaps he even believes this is why ocelot is willing to endure the insults and humiliation.

overall i think their dynamic would be strange, nostalgic pining against a somewhat bitter distrust and disrespect + a mutual feeling of superiority/incompetence.

they both think theyre taking advantage of the other. ocelot wants what he can no longer have, because both miller and big boss are dead. liquid is a stand in for them. liquid thinks hes in charge and in control of shadow moses, and he doesnt take ocelot seriously enough to consider something else is going on behind the scenes. he focuses his anger at big boss towards anyone who was associated with him- snavid, miller, ocelot. they both use each other as proxies to channel strong emotion.

its fucked :]

#jazz noises #inbox #anonymous #metal gear #revolver ocelot #liquid snake

[lubotomies]

i could be remembering this wrong but wasnt there a trend with badly written tord redemption shit where edd & matt forgave him IMMEDIATELY and tom was portrayed as the bad guy for not also doing that

absolutely correct and you could place money on the bet that it would still be tomtord. also tord would also be unintentionally incredibly guilt-trippy because they wanted him to hate himself for betraying them but cant write nuance so heres my impression of a 2018 tomtord panic attack tord redemption fic that lacks any substance:

''Tom... I-I'm-''

''Sorry?'' Tom interrupted with a snarl. ''Shove it up your arse. I don't want your fake remorse.''

Fake...?

Oh... His chest was feeling tight. His organic hand moved up towards his own heart instinctually, gripping the fabric. His robotic arm reached out to him.

''I-I assure you, my remorse is not fake... I genuinely feel bad for what I've done to you...''

Tom whips around, and Tord stumbles back, startled. Tom takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between them again, jabbing his index finger in his chest.

''Bull. Shit. You don't feel bad at fucking all. You're the same old bastard who blew up our house, killed our neighbour, punched Matt and betrayed Edd's trust! Even if you did feel bad,'' his finger leaves his chest as his hands move up to mime air quotes. ''Feeling bad doesn't undo all that. Feeling bad doesn't make you changed, and it doesn't make you better, it doesn't mean you've learned your lesson and it certainly doesn't mean people should forgive you!''

Tord finds it difficult to breathe now. His heart is thumping in his ears, he thinks if he put his fingers on his wrist to feel for a pulse they'd spring back from the force of his heartbeat. He bites his lip and bows his head as it heats up with shame.

Tom's venomous words have not stopped there.

''You want to make it up to everyone? You want it to be even? Then fucking KILL YOURSELF!!!!'' He punctuates by shoving Tord to the ground.

''I'm sorry.'' Tord whispers. His hands move up to his hair, gripping it tightly as he draws his knees up to his chest. ''I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry.''

Tom quirks a brow.

The words tumble out without much thought. ''You're right. I-I shouldn't have come back. I shouldn't h-have asked for forgiveness. I'm worthless, I'm a s-sack of shit.'' He says, still hushed but at least audible. He sniffs, and a hand moves from their place in his hair over to rub away his tears. ''Everyone would be better off if I killed myself. I ruined your lives, and now I'm back making them worse a-again.''

and then it ends with tom feeling bad and trying to forgive tord all the while tord continues to do this dumb ass self-deprecating whining and snivelling and at least 1 panic attack per chapter because tom says cartoonishly evil shit so tord gets his redemption via ;;_;; im sawwddd and have anxwiettyyyyy guilt tripping everyone around him into forgiving him and making them walk on eggshells because if you dont forgive him for murder he'll be saaaaaadddd 😢

#ask #i really wish 2018 fics had tom telling tord to kill himself itd be so fucking funny but no they just had him become a demon or something #i literally cant write a conclusion to this becuase its driving me crazy trying to write like 2018 flower crown forgiveness ppl