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#I will try my best to tag additional warnings as we go
kaciidubs · 1 month
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Pearl Necklace
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❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Baby…” 
Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch. 
“Can I ask you something?”
He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”
“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”
The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.
“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”
Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.
“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”
“Oh?” 
Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.
“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”
You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”
A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.
“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”
“I do.”
Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.
“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”
“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”
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Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.
“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”
You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.
“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.
He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”
Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”
To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.
Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.
The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.
“Ready to make that necklace for me?”
His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”
Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.
Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.
“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”
The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.
He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.
“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”
Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.
“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”
Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
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Cod Threesomes
Requested: No
Warnings/Additional Tags: GN!Reader, Smut, Threesomes, Anal, Oral (M receiving), light choking, Implied polyam relationships, Fingering, Voyeurism, Biting
A/N: I need to be sedated, I spaced out for 2 seconds then suddenly I had a thousand words.
Gaz & Price
“Tha’s it, Love. Taking it so well.” Gaz pants, head buried in the crook of your neck, hands gripping at your hips so tight that it hurt a little bit. “Just….Just a little more.” He tells you, carefully sliding his cock in the slightest inch more, sending your eyes rolling back into your skull.
“Can’t.” You say, digging your nails into his biceps, clinging to him for dear life, teary eyes darting behind him to look into the deep ocean blue of Price’s gaze. “T-Too much.”
“Nonsense.” The older man grunts, and you could feel the way he humped harder into Kyle, your boyfriend choking on a gasp, twitching above you so hard you were almost worried, a string of drool slipping off his lips and splattering onto your chest, making you jump. “You’ve taken it before, you’ll take it again.”
“M-might help if you go just a little slower.” Kyle says, yelping when his words earned him a heavy handed smack to the ass, Price’s big hand squeezing the now tender skin to prolong the initial sting, thumb pulling aside the cheek so his superior could look down and see where his cock was disappearing into Gaz’s hole.
“I know what’s best, for both of you.” Price grunts, his free hand going to wrap loosely around your throat, both you and Gaz’s eyes going glassy when he does, blunt nails scraping against your skin. “We do things my way, or no way.”
A resounding “yes, sir.” was all you both could say in return.
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Ghost & Soap
“So pretty, Love.” Soap cooed in your ear, warm hands rubbing at your hips, his knees spreading your legs open wide, your back to his chest and his dripping cock rubbing against your ass as Ghost’s lubed up fingers work you open, scissoring the thick digits inside your warm opening. “Taking his fingers so well, can’t wait to see you take his cock.”
You whimper at his words, feeling them burn through you like a heat flash, settling thick and sticky in your lower belly. Your pathetic sounds combined with your little squirms seemed to amuse Simon, if the smirk on what little of his face you could see was any indication.
“If they’ll be able to take my cock.” He snorts, a hint of amusement in his voice, curving his fingers inside you to stroke at a particularly sensitive area inside of you. “Having a hard time even taking just these two fingers, and my cock is so much bigger.” He teases, free hand going down to wrap around his cock, stroking it slowly before squeezing it at the base, your eyes glued to the scene with hunger.
“Ach, now you’re just underestimating them.” Johnny says, letting you feel the smile on his face as he presses his lips to your neck, darting his tongue out to lick the sweat dripping down your jugular. “Sweet thing like this, they’ll take it just fine. Just need a little extra work to open em up.” He says, trailing a hand over your belly and down between your legs, slipping in one of his fingers right between Simon’s, gripping your hip tighter when you try to arch them up, your head dropping back to rest on his shoulder. “I know, Love. It’s a lot to take, but you’ll take it. You’ll take all of us and beg for more. I promise.”
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Horangi & König
“Shit, you’re tight.” König huffed above you, teeth bared in a snake that would be terrifying in any other situation, just like the hand he had clasped around your neck, feeling his co-worker’s cock plow into your gullet, a wet “shlick”ing sound echoing from not just between your legs but from your mouth as well, he’d love to see the tears he know are escaping your eyes, but frustratingly was unable to with how far back your head was tilted. You were probably getting light headed, he hoped you wouldn’t pass out again. “How’s their mouth feel?”
“Like Heaven.” Horangi grunted, eyes hazy with lust, leaned forward with his forehead resting against König’s shoulder, sharp teeth nipping at his flesh, narrowly avoiding drawing blood. “Wet, tight, h-heaven.” He stutters, grabbing at König’s hip, digging blunt nails into him to try and avoid cumming just from the way your throat pulsed around him.
“Yeah?” König cooed, rubbing his thumb over the vague outline of Horangi’s cock, searching for the sensitive head while he used his other hand to play with your pebbled nipples, occasionally pinching and pulling at them harshly just to make you squeal, the sounds vibrating up Horangi’s cock and making his eyes roll back, his hips jerking harder and faster, chasing his fast approaching orgasm.
“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it. So good.” Hong-Jin groaned, tilting his head back when König started to mouth at his pale neck in return, sucking and biting til a dark bruise was sure to be left, settling his hands on your sides, drifting them down to your thighs and kneading at your flesh. “Make ‘em cum, prince. Want to feel how tight they’ll squeeze me when they’re overridden with pleasure.”
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Alejandro & Rudy
“Slower.” Alejandro purred beside you, swirling a glass of mezcal before tipping it back to take a gulp, his eyes burning through you the whole time as you struggled to keep an even pace on Rudy’s lap, thighs slick with sweat and shaking from exertion. The new pace somehow even more torturous than before, even with your lover’s hands firmly on your hips and his lips trailing along your jaw.
“Good. Doing so good, Tesoro.” Rudy mumbled against your skin, his breathing heavy before his tongue darts out to lick a thick line across your throat, thumbs digging into your hips lines. “I know it’s hard but you’re doing great, just keep listening to Alejandro.”
You nod more out of instinct than actual understanding, lust inebriating you more than any alcohol, leaving you sticky and pliant between the two of them, a little puppet with your strings wrapped around their fingers.
“Bite them.” Was Alejandro’s next order, less than half a second before Rudy dug his teeth into your shoulder, making you let out a long whine that you tried to muffle by burying your mouth into Rudy’s hair, only to be met by a loud ‘tch’ and Alejandro’s stern voice snapping at you. “No no no, stop that.” He said, clicking his fingers to get your attention. “You don’t get to muffle those pretty noises of yours. I want to hear them loud and clear, Angel. Try to do that again and I’ll have to find another way to preoccupy that mouth of yours.”
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months
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Counting the Minutes
Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex. Word count: ~1k
Summary: Separated for the Christmas break, her and Michael have to get creative.
Author's note: A little addition to The Golden Ratio, though can also be read as a standalone piece. Day twelve of the Smuffmas prompts - "promise and phone sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
She nestles beneath the duvet, clicking through the contacts on her Nokia until she reaches Michael’s name. A faint smile tugs at her lips as her finger hovers over the call button, she can’t wait to speak to him.
They have been inseparable since the night that Oliver ditched him. They brought out the best in each other. Michael lit a fire underneath her that made her want to study harder, to strive for perfection in all things. In turn, she softened him up and taught him not to see the world through such a harsh lens. 
Their relationship had become serious enough that they had both chosen to spend their reading week together, instead of going home like the vast majority of people at their college had.
Now the term was over, and Christmas had beckoned them both home; Michael back to his mum, and her back to her dad. It’s odd not to see him every day, and though they’d stayed in touch on MSN Messenger, nothing compares to sitting with their legs entwined as they discuss their notes for their upcoming tutorials.
It’s only been a week and she misses the way he rests his chin against his hand when he’s deep in thought, how the intensity of his unblinking, blue eyed stare causes her skin to grow hot, and the smell of Imperial Leather soap and old books that she inhales when she rests her face in the crook of his neck.
Holding the phone to her ear, it rings once, twice, three times before he answers.
“Hello, you.”
His voice gives her butterflies. It’s the sound she’d attribute to how it feels to run your fingertips against plush velvet.
“Hi,” she says back with a coy smile. God, she wishes she could see him.
“How long can you talk for?” He asks.
“I put credit on my phone yesterday, ten pounds, so should be good for a while.”
“One hundred and sixty six point seven hours.”
She huffs a laugh. Of course his mind wanders to the maths of it.
“You think we could talk for that long?” 
“Hmm,” he muses, “I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.”
“Like we did during reading week?” She asks softly, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the cotton of her bedsheets.
“Can’t really do that over the phone.”
“Have you ever had phone sex before?”
She hears him suck in a harsh breath before he replies. “What do you think?”
It causes her to giggle. Of course he hasn’t.
“Would you like to try it?” She holds the phone tighter to her ear, a lazy grin upon her lips.
“What does it entail?”
“Well,” she begins, switching her mobile from one ear to the other, and snuggling further down into the bed. “We describe what we’d like to do to each other while we touch ourselves.”
“One thousand, two hundred and fifty.”
“What?”
“On average, I can make you orgasm in about eight minutes. If we run through all of your phone credit then that’s how many times I could make you come.”
“Michael!” She gasps, feeling her insides flutter at the thought. “I don’t think that would be physically possible. I’ll settle for just the one today.”
He huffs a soft laugh, the sound breathy through the receiver. “Yes, I suppose that’s a bit impractical. Alright then, you start.”
“I wish you here right now,” she purrs seductively. “I want to push my hand up your t-shirt and run my fingers against that little trail of hair that leads all the way down your stomach, before I wrap them around your cock.”
His breathing grows heavier and she can hear the faint rustle of clothing in the background. She bites her lip, her own hand snaking beneath the duvet and into the waistband of her knickers.
“I miss the way you feel,” he tells her, voice shaky, “how tightly you grip me when I first push inside of you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sensation. You’re so wet, so warm…”
She can hear the slick sound of his hand pumping over his cock, the sound sends arousal pooling between her legs and she circles her pearl in earnest, the added wetness aiding her ministrations. She hadn’t expected him to focus on the sensation of physical touch quite so much, but Michael is pragmatic after all, and his innovative approach excites her.
“Mmmm,” she moans quietly, “I want you to do that thing where you grab my hips to pull me back against you as you fuck me, it feels so good.”
A broken whimper escapes him, and there’s a brief moment of just his ragged breathing before he speaks again.
“The way your thighs tighten against my waist drives me mad. I swear I can still feel you there when I close my eyes, see the way your tits bounce– fuck!”
She whines, circling her bud faster, the coil in her gut tightening. “Wanna slide my hands down to your arse, push you in as deep as you’ll go, watch how your eyes screw shut as you come inside me.”
He grunts. “Wish I could come inside of you so badly. I need to feel you clenching around me, hear the pretty sounds you make as I fill you up.”
Her hips jerk involuntarily against her hand, and she knows she’s close. It’s been a week since he’s touched her and his filthy words have sent her unravelling much faster than she anticipated.
“I’m close,” she pants.
“M–me too,” he huffs back. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard the moment we get back to college.”
“Oh god–” Her response is cut off by her pleasured cry, as she falls apart, her walls spasming around emptiness as her thighs tremble.
A grunt and heavy breathing on the other end of the line lets her know that Michael has reached his end too. There’s nothing but the sound of their shared gasps for air, as they both recover.
“Do you promise?” She finally asks. “To fuck me hard when we get back to college?”
“Tell you what, let’s go back a day early and we can spend an entire day doing just that.”
She giggles excitedly, rolling onto her side. “I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”
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ebaylee422 · 1 year
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I Want Your Video
Steve x Fem!Reader
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Author’s Note: Steve won the poll, when I first started really reading fanfiction on tumblr early 2020-2021 there was a fic with mutual masturbation with BestFriend!Steve Harrington and this plays into the very heavy. I’ve been wanting to fuck you forever part for inspo. Also just love Djo’s music so a lot of my WIPs have titles of his music. Requests are open if you want more sexy Steve, thank you for reading!
Summary: Family Video just became a little less family friendly with the new addition of the 18 and older erotic video room. You are more curious than your co-workers about what a dirty movie includes, the sexual tension between you and dreamboat Steve Harrington does nothing for your pent up frustrations. 
Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Family Video Worker!Reader, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Max, El and Will love to pester Steve at his jobs, and gross mentions of Keith. 
Warning/Tags: SMUT (Minors DNI), Steve has a huge cock, dry humping, marking, fingering (f receiving), blow job, overstim, small nubbins of insecurities with reader and Steve, Steve and reader share playful banter, a ruined Armchair, dirty talk, pet names, riding (save a horse ride Steve Harrington), we all love boobies, creampie, cum play?  As always lmk if I forgot anything!
Word Count: 6.2k
"Well I knew they called it Family Video for a reason, I just never thought they'd take it so literally." You said as the three of you looked to the closed door with the new 18 plus warning sign, taking away your break room.
"Please stop mentioning it.” Robin pinches at the bridge of her nose
"What? At least people don't like, deal porn or try to find it at a public library." Steve adds setting the return tapes on the counter.
"Why would someone go to the library for PORN?" Robin boasts turning to her best friend,
"I don't know Buckley, people are stupid when horny." Steve admonishes
“Does that mean your always horny?” You tease, Steve opens his mouth to retaliated but Robin stops him. 
"No, now we just have Keith, who was already always in the back room. Potentially watching adult films on the clock and putting them back." Robin shakes in disgust.
"Like a trial run, he’ll be able to give great recommendations." You add nose scrunched with laughter bubbling in your chest.
"Ew gross." Robin said nauseated 
"Look he's creepy, but Keith is not that brave. Any one of us could walk back there." Steve says pointing to the ever closed office and backroom where Keith either naps or throws together a schedule. 
"Maybe he wants to be caught?" you nod, taking new tapes to stock in the romance section.
“Maybe he wants you to catch him?” Steve wiggles his eyebrows following you,
"Maybe you want me to smack you in the face-" You turn to find him closer than you anticipated only a few inches separating your body from his. 
"What? Don't be a prude now, you're the one who made the conversation interesting." Steve cut you off, chest puffed in challenge. His woodsy, ash, and vanilla smell intoxicating you as the spearmint on his breath floated you back to reality.
"That's because I'm interesting." You dare with a raised eyebrow, as his eyes flicker to your cherry lips.
"God please stop flirting in front of me or I'll get a cavity." Robin whines behind the counter. 
"We're not flirting-" You scold, "Okay-" Steve holds his hands up in defense at the same time. You huff and continue down the aisle to stock, red in the face with embarrassment. 
Towards the end of your shift the school rush dying down, you sit on the counter with Robin inventorying returns in the computer. Steve is holding the door open for a blonde girl popping her bubble gum with glossed lips. Giggling as Steve makes a fool of himself her chest rising with the laughter, over a Star Wars joke she didn’t understand. Explaining how she had been looking for the film in Alderaan places, and how he was always happy to help a pretty girl like her. 
You understood the joke, just because he didn’t know what Ewoks were didn’t mean he never paid attention when you talked about your favorite sci-fi series. 
“Stupid.” You mumbled under your breathe, rewinding tapes.
“Huh?” Robin asked, her doe eyes floating along the computers interface confused her mouth hung open. 
"Robs, have you ever watched an adult film?" You asked, aggravated and pent up.
"Yeah but there's not a lot in my area of attraction so I just stick to the magazines." Robin motioned toward herself, still clueless to your annoyance.
"Uh-huh, well I want to watch one." Finally being decisive on the embarrassing topic,
"Are we seriously still talking about this?" Steve chips in
"Did you seriously just strike out? You talked with her for like 30 seconds." You said infuriated, turning around to see him leaning over the counter with his stupid fluffy hair and tight polo. Sans a phone number written on his arms or a torn piece of notebook paper.
"Just remember Y/N that's all a man can give sometimes, porn isn't realistic." Robin added knocking her head into your leg in frustrated groan.
“How would you know that?” Steve scrutinized his best friend,
“Is it true?!” Robins eyes were blown wide in astonishment, they immediately started arguing with you the only barrier between them.
"Okay, I'm just gonna go back there and pick one." You slide from the counter, move Robin out of your way, they paused mid-argument to poke at you.
"Go for it, have fun." Robin called
"But not too much!" Steve yelped when she pinched him,
Opening the cliché room, of neon lights with each film had it’s own space on the shelves you began to read some of the titles. Private Teacher, Taboo, I Like to be Watched, Educating Nina, Talk Dirty to Me 1 and 2, 8 to 4, there's honestly too many. So let's just say that the first one, Private Teacher, sounds like it has some plot. You slip it into your vest, walking out of the room to find Steve surrounded by his children.
“Please Steve what’s back there?”
“We just want to take a quick peak!”
“For the millionth time, no. You’re barely 13!”
“We’re actually 14 and or older Steve.” Max says deadpan standing arms crossed next to a girl you think was named Jane or El you weren’t 100% sure. 
“Yeah kids leave the guy alone just because he would sneak you into the movie's at Scoops does not mean you get free rain of the porno’s.”
“Porno’s?!” Dustin yells as the rest of the kids shush him, looking around the other Family Video patrons.
“Yeah that’s enough Steve’s posse, your scaring away paying customers.” You shush them out the door, 
"Come on, I bet you have some criticism about at least one of these dirty movies." Robin asks Steve who is using every fiber in his being not to embarrass himself in front of you.
"Actually, I haven't watched any of them yet," Steve says while he re-faces the horror films the kids probably messed with earlier.
“Bullshit-” You butt in, Steve turns to defend himself but is saved by Robin’s blabbermouth. 
"I do but mostly for the... well you know, porno's aren't progressive in my territory yet." Robin held up the one, where the woman's boobs were almost completely out of her bra and there was a string of spit from her mouth to them.
"Well we could change this week's movie night at my place? This one seemed well loved. 3 rents already, and it’s only been a few weeks." I grabbed 'Private Teacher' walking over to Steve, the man had the woman bent over the desk, one of his hands pulling her hair so show her face for the camera. Her school girl costume left a tasteful amount of skin on show just for the cover. The tagline read ‘Sometimes A Little Private Instruction Is All You Need To Make The Grade’
He only glanced at the cover, "Yeah I'm good, I get my fill with my right hand and watching sappy some romance movies over and over again."
"Ewwww," Robin drones behind the counter. You laugh at his in response holding onto your sides while walking back over to her.
"Obviously, not in that order!" He follows, you pull out some rental money setting on the counter as Robin rang it up.
"Oh come on now, Stevie don't be the prude of the group. Robin will be there too and I know you don't have anything better to do. Since you're always at my house anyway." He scoffs hiding the tape under his elbow when another customer walks in.
"Yeah to get away from my asshole Dad, not to watch porn with you." 
"I think he would enjoy the fact you're actually finding a hobby," Robin says, putting the tape into a plastic bag, brushing some hair out of Steve's face. He sticks out his tongue mocking her. 
"Yes Robin, you're a truly hilarious comedian of the century. What do I have to do for you both to drop this? Especially as my best friend and basically my boss." You giggle at the obvious answer.
"Just come by tonight, Steve. I don’t wanna watch this alone. And like always bring your tissues for the movie," Robin almost falls over laughing, when you lean over the counter pressing a kiss to his heated cheek before waving goodbye. You spend the rest of your night picking up the apartment, filling the fridge with your friends favorite snacks, and vacuuming. You thought about lighting a candle, debating if that was too romantic to watch a Porno with your co-workers. Lighting it against those thoughts because it made the place smell nice. A knock at the door took you away from the sink of dishes from your breakfast.
“Come in! It’s open guys!” You yell turning off the faucet,
“What if I was a serial killer, Y/N? You’d let me wander about your living room?” Steve brushed his front past you setting a six-pack in the fridge.
“The only serial thing you are Steve is a serial pain in my butt.” You stick you tongue out, head lurching towards the direction of the living room only to find it empty.
“Ha-ha, ha.” Steve mocked, taking off his grey jacket to lay it across the counter before nose diving into the fridge again.
"How was your day? Where’s Buckley?" You pondered wiping your wet hands, the moving his jacket to a chair at the small four person dining table.
“Hanging out with a girl. And other than this chick at work begging me to watch porn with her, it was actually really busy." He threw a grape at where you were at the table, tossing a handful into his mouth with a crunch.
"I totally forgot about it until I was grabbing my wallet at the store, I was kinda embarrassed when I rediscovered it. The lady probably thought I was high as a kite!"
"Because you are," he drooled a little bit, speaking with a full mouth, raiding the fridge full of groceries.
"There's nothing wrong with blowing off some steam with a bit of erotica. Everyone does it," you turned tossing the soiled grape back at him, joining him in the kitchen again.
"Yeah that's gross, it's unspoken. Even creepy old men who can't get it up do it." He swallowed his mouth full then making an obscene gesture with his hand.
"Ew, gross Steve.” You say hands held up in disgust,
"See-"
"Well I'm not a creepy old man," You argued, taking the tape out of your bag. "Besides, it can't be that good or bad. Almost like a true neutral, just people going at it like animals." Walking into the living room, you closed the blinds and navy curtains before setting the tape into the already plugged in VCR.
"Okay hang on a minute, there's way better ways at blowing off steam." Steve interrupts, the fridge slams as his steps grow louder.
"Name a few for me, Lover Boy." You scoffed still bent at the waist, setting everything up at the entertainment center. Round shape of your ass in those acid wash jeans begging to be released. The sight made Steve’s own tighter around his crotch.
"I don't think you want to know mine," he says breathlessly, voice a bit deeper. You stood up and turned to where he stood, his back up against the archway that separated the two rooms. The tape started playing in the middle of the stars going at each other, extremely loud feminine moans rang from the Television. It broke you from the stare down, rushing to turn it down. He came up behind you on the rug, turning everything off altogether. After a pause of shock, you rolled over laughing against the entertainment center, covering your red face with your hands. Steve huffed sitting back on his calves, laughing at it as well. Eyes drifting to the swell of your chest as the laughing made it rise a fall. Dragging the hands down your face, leaning against the shelves. You clocked his stare immediately, his pupils are blown wide, lips slick as if he just wet them. Polo tight across his shoulders but untucked showing off a flash of his soft tummy. You swallowed hard catching your breath.
“Steve?” You reach out to him, his arms grip back at your elbows pulling you up on your knees towards his knees. “I wanna know, I want to know.” His nose pressed to your cheek, lip grazing over yours as he spoke. 
“I can show you.” His voice broke, husky and deep exhale along your skin. Your resolve faltered lips fitting like a puzzle against his. You pulled far enough away to split for air, only Steve followed pressing you closer together. Hand resting along your neck, holding you to him. 
"What's wrong?" You looked at him worried a line creasing your forehead he reached out to soothe.
"Nothing, you're just so...beautiful." He let his eyes wander, admiring that you’d even gave him the time of day.
“I want you. I want you to show me.”
“Okay.” Connecting again fireworks exploded behind your eyes. He pulled your top lip between his, you returned by licking the slope of his bottom lip from an open mouth kiss. Steve groaned, allowing you in. He tasted of the grapes from moments ago and spearmint of the gum he chewed to stop smoking, it was sickly sweet. My hand from his thigh came up to brush away the free fallen hair from getting in our way, the strands of hair were so soft, surprising, no matter how many times you’d wished to touch them. Pushing your chest against his, raising up on your knees deepening the kiss. He sunk down to a seated position, crossing his legs and leaning his head back to a lower level. It gave more access, he kept his hands in nice places like; nape of your neck, tangled hair, cheeks, small of the back and waist. You nipped his bottom lip, pulling gently then watched it fall back in place. He gripped one of your thighs, sending shocks of anticipation up your core. He kneaded, silently wanting for sometime. Everything was too good to break away and use words. You just obediently moved one leg at a time to sit on his lap. Using his shoulders to steady, lowering onto his lap. He whimpered in anticipation in you mouth, your heat grazed the zipper of his jeans. At the friction you gasped, lips swollen and lungs out of air, as you pressed foreheads together. Eyes opening to see him staring with hopefulness, eyes wide open. You teased lightly trailing lips over his. Waiting for a reaction, but he stayed firm. Hands on the ground by his sides holding you upright. Breathing as one for a moment before he spoke,
"I've thought about this moment for a very long time," He said only for the two of you, your fingers rubbed the five o’clock shadow of his jaw in your waiting hands "I want to, so terribly. I don't know where to go from here..." 
He smiled a dorky smile into your skin, keening at the contact of you against him.
"Then stop talking and kiss me again." He obeyed, trailing his lips down to your jaw, throat and to your collar, moving the fabric slightly he started softly sucking and rolling his tongue over the area. Your hands desperately clung to the back of his head, he moved closer to the pot of your collarbones and throat leaving wet kisses. He stopped his mouth looking up, with those caramel eyes so full of devotion. Mind going fuzzy, seeing the way he not only looked but saw into you. The way he always has. "Don’t stare at me like that,"
"Like what?" He let the collar of the shirt scrunch back in place the movement made you squeeze your thighs around his middle, eyes rolling back in his skull.
"Like you want to kiss me or something." His hands both came up to brush his thumbs along your ribs, fronts pressed against each other.
"I will never stop looking at you like that, no matter what happens.” He smiled, “I gave you my heart long ago." You kissed him more primal this time, needing to taste him and etch the feeling of him into your mind. He was moaning into the embrace, he still barely touched as you tugged at his shirt below, when he broke contact to pull it over his head you stopped the kiss to admire his chest.
"Steve..." You wheezed through bloated lips. "Touch me, it's okay. You can't hurt me" He kissed back hard, slipping his hands underneath your tight work shirt, his hands cold against the hot skin covering your spine. Breaking free from his lips pressing kisses on his face, down his throat cooing into him when he unclasped your bra with one hand in a single fluid motion. Running his hands over your bare back, unknowingly while you rotated your hips in small circles against his wanting more. Craving the contact and friction of him against you. He daintily ran his hands down your body hesitantly gripping the plush of your ass adding more pressure to the growing friction. His zipper felt so good against your own, letting go of your lips on his neck throwing your head back. As the feeling of his hard-on pressed up against your clit. Putting both hands on the floor behind you while he moved your hips against each other in sync, panting and grinding seeking release. Steve's abdomen flexed as he twitched under you, he was cumming loudly moaning your name from his pink lips. It sounded like a song when he said it, his release came fast, his chest heaving heavily as he pulled your body back against him. Hugging each other till lips grazed, as he came down from his high. You tried to suppress the giggle as his hands traced shapes along the small of your back.
"What are you so giddy about? You just made me cream my pants like a middle schooler." You shook your head tracing at the mark I left on his shoulder,
"Well since we're already past the point of no return. I didn't think you would be so loud." you pulled back lip bitten between teeth,
"Maybe if you weren't mauling me like a hungry lion, I could've stayed quiet." He tucks his head under your chin,
"I told you, I’m a lion girl not a ninja.” He laughed across your throat warming you as he kissed the flesh again. “Maybe I should pounce effectively, so I can really hear you scream my name." Steve stopped abruptly to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide, you felt immediately self-conscious blabbering out an apology before he could turn you down. "I’m so sorry, was that too much?"
"No...” He purred, this close you could tell the scent of him was distinctly cedar.  “I've actually never been more turned on." He pushed his lips to mine, rolling our tongues against each other, knowing exactly what you liked. He tightened his grip on on the fat of your hips and making you moan into him, pulling away his lips, forehead glistening, his eyes full of lust. He trailed his fingers up to help the offensive fabric of your shirt off, the bra slowly falling the rest of the way off your shoulders. His length twitched against the inside of your thigh again, he was entranced by the image. Still as a statue until guiding his lips down to the spot on you chest that made the world melt. He kissed everywhere, you kept each hand in his hair scratching at his scalp pleasantly. Leaning forward he placed your back against the carpet, hovering on top of but keeping himself slotted between your legs. Involuntarily moaning when he licked at erect nipple, he mirrored the same to the other one. His dick throbbed against the stain of cum, straining against the fabric. Kissing each while he unzipped the high waist of your jeans. You bucked your hips and helped him pull them down, he took them off your trapped ankles, restarting his descent to kiss down the length of your body again. Wet open mouth kisses making shooting sparks through your body at the intimate contact, grabbing his hand on the ground. 
“You are even more beautiful than my dreams ever allowed. Everything, you are everything.” His eyes silently asking for permission. As he slid a hand under the fabric of the green panties. You gasped loudly at the unbridled new contact of his palm, lowering to gather the dampness, trailing it up to your clit. He circled twice as his other fingers began to slowly plunge inside. You keened, calves dug into the bare flesh around his waist, “You're so wet for me,” sighing, hands finding purchase on his biceps, he hissed as his face fell into your neck.
“Uhh… Harder.” You held his arms with such intensity, leaving crescent marks into the skin digging hard into his muscle. Turning you chin down to find his lips to kiss, and silencing moans together his thumb began to swirl faster, his middle and ring finger able to go a little deeper with the changing hand position. Not being able to control the heat coursing through, you squeezed his hips harder. He whimpered, pressing himself up against your thigh rutting the fabric against himself for some contact. “Your fingers feel so good…” Moving lower, spreading wider to move your hips against his fingers, they worked expertly to consume all your senses. He pushed in a little further and harder, forcing you to look at what he was doing so wonderfully between your legs. Moaning obscene words, as your back arched further his fingers scissoring to stretch your walls. Clenching around his fingers that disappeared inside. “Holy shit- don’t stop.” Your hands fell to the floor grabbing the shag of the rug underneath, as muscles tensed unlike anything you’ve felt before. You came hard without warning, the orgasm spread through you, completely overwhelming, your legs shook out your high as he kept going, pressure building through your bladder before you felt a light gush.
"Fuck" He whispered in you ear, you could feel the shit eating grin off of his body language. 
"I haven’t done that before," you tell him.
"Yeah me either, ya know to a girl… I do that every time," he said into your neck, your cheeks instantly flushed. Laughing at his dorkiness, he moved your panties back in place. His fingers parted his lips, licking them clean of your arousal. You felt him throbbing against your thigh as you lightly pushed off the ground. Taking Steve's hand, you pushing him back to climb on the Lazy Boy you'd recently bought.
“What are you thinking, Sweets?” his voice was dark, he moved up the chair and sat. Spreading his legs for you, like the good boy he’d been.
“I just want to clean up my seat, Lover Boy.” You knelt down unbuckling his jeans, pulling them down and his ruined underwear. Letting him finally be free from the confines of the fabric, his cock flung back up pre leaving a pearlescent trail on the course hair of his happy trail. Steve was massive, how he’d fit into those jeans daily made your head spin. You would make him fit, even if his cock impaled your insides. 
“You don’t have to, no one’s been able to take all of me before.” He took your wanderlust as fear, and shit now you had to prove him wrong too. Your nails ran up his thighs as you collected some spit in the front of your mouth. Letting it drip onto the head, nails gripping his thigh to hold him in place you took the other hand and ran it across his length. Hitting the large vein along his shaft with your thumb, he pushed his head back against the plush chair. Fighting to buck up into you with everything in his body and mind not to blow his load again or buck up into you. He was breathing extremely heavily now, you gently kissed his red tip and watched as his fingers dug into the armrests. He held his breath a bit before you squeezed his thigh, then he exhaled. You then licked a long stripe down his shaft, you came back up to the tip flicking it with your tongue.
“Jesus, stop with the teasing Sweets,” You smiled like a siren, before holding him with a hand stroking up and down with your lips wrapped around the tip. He accidently to bucked his hips, you pressed his pelvis down taking in his full length.
“Holy shit!” Steve gasped. Hollowing your cheeks, you worked him to a pulp as your jaw went slack. His hands reached out to grab the hair that fell covering how you looked sucking him. Pulling it all to one hand, he didn’t need to guide your head, you were able to bob your head down him with a fair amount of ease with how wet you’d gotten his shaft. Tearing up and gaging if you went too slow, but it was well worth the noises coming from his beautiful lips. He watched in awe as you swallowed around him, eyes watery and spit slick chin, moving your second hand under his heavy sack you massaged them with each upstroke. HIs eye closed tightly as he twitched inside your mouth throwing his head back warning you. You took it all with a delightful swallow, helping him ride out the rest of his high with a hand. The only time he pulled his makeshift ponytail was when he could’ve cried from the stimulation. You relented with a pornographic pop, wiping your chin with the back of your hand and slowly stood going to straddle him, he playfully grabbed your body and pulled you to him on the lounge chair.
“That was way better than any other girl or me just watching porn.” you looked at him mouth agape, he was eye level with your bare chest.
“See, I knew you watched porn. A shit ton of it.” you slapped his chest.
“Yeah, but nothing compares to the real thing,” he began to kiss the marks he already started on your chest, in places only he’d only been allowed too. Your hands cupped his face for him to look at you. He smiled his beautiful heartfelt smile,
“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“I don’t know but Robin is the best wing women ever. She told me if I didn’t kiss you tonight I shouldn’t even bother showing my face at work tomorrow.”
“Wait, what is Robin doing?”
“She cancelled so we could in her words ‘either fuck away the tension out or kill each other’ .”
“Well she is definitely my favorite lesbian. That multi-lingual B is a genius. I would’ve let you do this even if you’d just. I don’t know asked me on a date.”
“Bullshit-, really?”
“Are you kidding?! You are so out of my league Steve, I’ve never been in your ballpark ever in my life.” He grimaces, thumb tracing idling along your hip bone.
“I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful, smart and caring girl. I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and I selfishly want you all to myself.” he whispers with affection you’d never heard from him before. Adam’s apple bobbing with his thick swallow of emotion.
“Then you have me.” he bit back a smile as his lip clashed with yours passionately kissing you, he faintly pulled your hair. You moaned at the action, spine tingling as you roamed your hands around his frame. Mapping out ever mole and divot along his heated skin. Trailing them back and forth on his chest like a sensual massage. He moved his hands to get a better angle on your hips, and began rowing them against himself. You both groaned at the friction, “Look who’s the tease now,” you pouted at him as a finger inched it way  to your clit tracing tight consistent circles. Your nails tear at his shoulders with pleasure, making him shudder under you. ‘God how many rounds could you go with him’ “Please… uh. Tell me you're ready.” you push your head into his neck, his fingers had already fine-tuned your pleasure. He stopped, fingers yanking your scalp to crash your lips to his. He still rowing you against his length, until his lungs screamed for air.
“I’m always ready, how do you feel about this?” he stops his motions, you felt unfulfilled when the movement ceased. You brain finally grasping some clarity, Steve would stop everything here if you wanted him too. Helping you re-dress and seeing himself out. Never telling a soul if you’d asked, he’d be celibate if you’d ask. Buying you the finest ring until your wedding night then ravishing you in your honeymoon bed. 
“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. You’re perfect to me Steve.” he gave you a sinful smile, reaching his hand under your adjoined hips pushing you up onto your knees. While he finished working himself up, you waited as patiently as you could by marking his neck.
“God you're so wet for me, these panties are drenched after sucking me. We should’ve gotten rid of them, already.” His eyes were playful, and needy for more and all of you. He helped you stand, putting your hands on his shoulder to balance you as you took them off. Just the sight of you fully naked made his heart ache, he kissed your arm lips too far for his liking. Wanting even more contact, he grabbed your waist again leaning back into the chair. You kissed him lazy, you both were fucked out of your minds already. Now it was just comforting, you had all the time in the world. It was slow, sweet, his lips were so soft you still felt them all over your body. His hands roamed but craved to rest on your chest above your heart. You pressed your forehead against his, catching your breath. His hands on your hips, guided you gently down as you felt him at your entrance.
“Take your time, Sweets. I want us to enjoy this,” nipping at your forearm while sitting himself farther up the chair, feet still planted on the ground.
“You want me to top, you?”
“Is that a problem?”
“I haven’t done that… Before.” You told him shyly, 
“Well, well. Looks like we're about to enter a new realm of pleasure for you…” Licking his lips, “just take me in your hand and guide yourself down at your own speed, Sweetheart.” His comforting words sent a tingle down your spine, you put your hands on the soft skin where his pelvis lies. He just observes your movements gripping your hips like a steering wheel, mouth awestruck as you lower yourself down onto him. His hands dig into you, as you let him fill your insides. Immediately he’s touching things you’ve never felt, it’s painful in the most remarkable way.
“Shit, babe. Oh my god. Didn’t-Didn’t think you’d take all of me on the first go.” he shifts pulling your chest so he can latch on to his dark purple mark there. It causes a rush inside you even just the slight motion making you want to explode.
“Feels so full, god your fucking humongous Steve.” You whined, high pitched and needy. The ach of his cock started to morph from a burn to a stretch faster than you thought as your arousal dripped down your thighs. In brief circles you moved your hips against him, keeping him completely sheathed inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, he moves his hands to your thighs squeezing hard making you grind faster. He comes up for air from you chest and lets out a gracious moan,
“Stevie, pull the handle.” you whimper at him,
“What?” he mutters breathlessly.
“Holy shit, just…” you're on the brink of another powerful orgasm, pussy gripping him like a vice ”pull the handle back, trust me.” he lets go of one of your thighs frantically looking for the handle on the side of the recliner. He finally finds it and pulls hard, sending his lower body up into yours and your upper body over his. You both moan in ecstasy, his hand going back to your thigh. Sitting back up, you place one hand on his lower abdomen and the other on his hairy thigh behind you. He continues to groan affirmations and your name at the changed position, sending you over a small cliff. Only adding to the larger knot in your stomach, running up your body.  
“Keep going I want you to cum, cum around my fat cock.”
“Don’t stop, stay right there. I want it all.” You pant feeling him twitch inside you, moving your hips with his.
“God you're so wet, and you ride me so good Sweetheart.” he playfully smacks your ass, you change your position again to bring your lips to his. He moves your body up and down while kissing you, letting you dominate his mouth while he starts to push harder into you. Propelling himself up, while his hands push you down into him in an erratic give and take. This is what you’ve needed, this was perfect but not even the start for both of you. He continues to praise you through breaths of pleasure “I got you” , “I can make you feel so good, Sweetheart.”, he gets filthier and louder and you keep moving, riding each other to passionate oblivion. Your mind ventures to his lips all over you, yours on him, the coil in between you wraps him tightly inside you. Your body starts to shake from the high, you press your upper body against his chest the hair rubbing against your hardened nipples.
"Good girl, milk my cock. Feels so good, gunna cum. You gotta move Sweets."
“Want to feel you, feel you dripping out of me Steve.” He mewls, clinging to you.
“Shit. Beg me for it, tell me how bad you want me to cum inside you.”
“Oh Steve,” you open your eyes, pressing your forehead down to meet him, his open too. You clutch your walls around him harder as he tries to finish riding your orgasm, “Please.” You whimper. That’s all it takes he gasps and finally bursts in you. Lips soothing against yours for that other contact. You feel the hot liquid inside you, wringing him dry of everything that he could possibly have left.
Separating for air out of the kiss, feeling his hot breaths against your cheeks, he groans, swallowing hard at the sensitivity. You brush your hair off of your sweaty face, holding onto the back of his neck to see him better. His eyes gleamed with passion, you smiled back.
“My legs are jelly,” you laugh in his face,
“I’ll take that as an answer to my question then,” he smiles, lifting your hips up. He easily slips out of you, you groan in frustration at the emptiness between your legs. Hissing at the loss as well, his abs quiver against the softness of your soft tummy. He pushes the foot rest back, so he can sit upright in the chair. Capturing his lips in yours, leaning you back as he holds you manhandling your hips, rotating you forward to help you stand.
“I could kiss you forever.” He admits kissing your shoulders as you put your feet on the cold floor, pushing off of his knees. You wobble slightly, 
“See,” you turned to face him again, pulling him up to stand together face to face. He stumbled a bit too, “completely fucked out of my mind.” He wraps his arms around your waist swaying you slightly in an embrace.
“You did so good, Sweetheart. We should get cleaned up.”
“I did good, how did you not run out of cum? Three rounds your insatiable.”
"Told you, I don't joke about my porn." He winks, kissing the corner of your mouth as he picks up your discarded clothes on the floor of the living room. 
"No wonder you're idolized by 14 year old boys." You roll your eyes, picking up your panties. This time when you bend own he can see his spend dripping down your slit. He chuckles from behind you a free hand, coasting down your stomach to your heat. You gasp as his fingers collect his cum from your thighs, you spin in his hold to meet his eyes.
"Open." Steve commands, eyes clouding with lust as he watches you stick your tongue out for him. His fingers slide along your tongue covered in each other's spend. It's comforting, salty, and heady against your tongue. You moan around him, sucking the taste clean from his fingers. He fingers slip out tongue replacing them, as he tips your chin up to meet his lips deeper, tongue kneading yours as he memorizes you. Inside and out.
“You know,” You murmur into his mouth as his mouth strays from yours coasting to mouth down your jaw. “I have a camcorder somewhere in my closet.” He freezes lips parted and eyes wide.
“Yeah? You don’t want to finish the movie? I was just starting to enjoy it.” You pout your lips, while he picks up all of the clothes from various places you threw them.
“Yeah... We could or..?”
“Or?”
“If you wanted we could make are own video?” Steve doesn’t even dictate your question with a response only hoisting you over his shoulder and burying you in the mattress for the rest of the night. 
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sohnric · 7 months
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sweet like candy – e. sohn
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pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader
genre: summer au, strangers to something more ?? fluff, suggestive. very much stargazing by the neighbourgood and fantasize by the boyz capsuled into a fic. eric is a simp and a hopeless romantic because i said so. a girl romanticizes sharing a lollipop (its me im girl)
warnings: alcohol, maybe some minimal swearing, a heated make out session that hints onto a hookup (no smut mentioned!). the use of a cheesy nickname babydoll (dont @ me or i will deactivate), reader has hair long enough for a claw clip
word count: 6.9k
a/n: almost cried while trying to name this fic somebody send help. Also this doesn't feel like my best work its kinda rushed imo but 🤠 yolo
part of the @deoboyznet summer on you event! cant believe i made it on time
a summer tradition of renting out a cabin every year invented by a couple of friends takes a turn for eric when a new addition to the circle brings him to his knees - in other words, he never knew tequila could taste so sweet.
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If anyone ever asked Eric Sohn if he believed in love at first sight, he would, without a doubt, say yes. 
What was the proof he had? Well, absolutely nothing. All he ever knew about love at first sight was from romance movies he watched during lonely nights with his roommate Juyeon, never having the experience of the whole world stopping and zooming in on one particular person, taking his breath away– but to put it simply, Eric Sohn is a true romantic. Call him cheesy if you want– he wouldn’t like it, but he also wouldn’t disagree. 
On one summer afternoon, though, his world tilts in its axis– the moment comes, and he is finally able to test out his theory.
You walk out of the passenger’s side of a red 2008 Toyota Auris, hair put up into a claw clip, jean shorts showing off your long legs and a pearl white button-up opened and lazily thrown over your outfit, and suddenly, Eric Sohn finds his knees buckling and his palms sweating with affection. He was aware that Juyeon’s girlfriend was bringing her best friend to tag along to their little summer retreat (more like a trip to a cabin in the middle of the woods), but he sure as hell didn’t expect the stranger to make him feel this type of way. 
Sure, it might just be him being incredibly attracted to you. But with how fast his heart was beating when you smiled at everyone after introducing yourself to the group, he was sure he was slowly, but surely falling for you. And he was falling hard.
He feels like the world is moving in slow motion as he watches the group go and unload the car– you and your best friend Yeri were the last ones to arrive– and what wakes him up from the haze is when he watches you struggle to carry a cooler out of the trunk into the cabin, his legs dragging him closer to the vehicle and near to your body.
Now is his time to shine. “Let me help!” he hurries out, sneakers crunching on the gravel. His hands firmly grab onto the handle of the blue cooler, muscles flexing under the weight (making him wonder why you would willingly want to carry the thing and not ask him or any of the guys for help in the first place), and when your eyes look up at come in contact with his, he presses a smile to his lips. “I’m Eric, by the way.”
“Ah,” you gasp, a grateful expression breezing over your features, “thanks. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Eric hums, watching your every move. Your figure walks over to the front of the car, your head popping in close to the window to look inside, and when a satisfied look overtakes your features, Eric finds himself asking. “Is that everything?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “we can head inside, I think.”
The boy tries hard to keep his cool, he really does. But with how he’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy, attempting to find a topic that would engage him in a conversation with you, he feels like a boy that is just experiencing a crush for the first time in his life. Everything about you is enchanting– and sure, you could say he was just painfully attracted to you and this had nothing to do with love– but he was also convinced that if you asked him to jump off the Empire State Building, he would do it without giving it a second thought (which is kind of worrying, but again– it says a lot). 
You open the door to the cabin for him, and he finds himself speechless at the action. Once your eyes meet again and you offer him another subtle smile, he finds himself gasping at the sentence that comes out of your mouth.
“Hey! We’re matching, kinda,” you note, pointing towards his outfit.
And you’re right– Eric didn’t even notice at first, too enchanted with your sheer existence– but you two were indeed wearing the same thing. Jean shorts, and a white button-up– in your case, thrown over a white tank top, in Eric’s, closed (although he did leave it a bit open at the top, revealing his tanned skin). Suddenly, the boy is glad he’s wearing a red cap to cover up his hair, since he foolishly thinks the hat provides him enough shade in the face to not reveal his burning cheeks as he utters out a weak response.
“It looks so much better on you, though.”
With that, he walks into the cabin– escaping the situation, not really paying a single thought to chivalry and letting you go through the door first– and as he reaches the crowd of people in the kitchen, he prays for all high sources to find him, get to him and wipe his brain clean of all thoughts, because
even though you are basically matching (and he does think you look so much better in the outfit than he does), all he can think about is just how much more he’d like your outfit if the white button-up enveloping your body was the one he’s wearing right now instead.
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The next time Eric finds courage to talk to you is when it seems like you’re not finding it to talk to anyone else yourself– the big group is currently sitting around a fire, marshmallows and sausages slowly burning in the blazing flames– and while everyone around was either talking to each other or singing along to the songs Jacob was playing on the guitar, you were sitting alone in the middle of two commotions: Chanhee and Changmin arguing about something seemingly important, and Yeri and Juyeon making out right in front of everyone’s eyes. 
And Eric was supposed to listen to Sunwoo talk about his latest heartbreak– how the man still gets no girls despite having such an objectively handsome face, Eric truly doesn’t know– but the topic of the conversation was too boring for him to engage with it. That, and he was also painfully aware of your every move– you didn’t even move much– and word– you weren’t talking to anybody– and that was slowly driving him insane.
You looked a little out of place. Eric supposes it was because you didn’t really know anyone here– except from your best friend and her awfully sappy boyfriend– but even though it was logical and a little expected for you to be a bit excluded in such a foreign circle, the man took it as his mission to make you feel as welcome and as included as he physically could.
Completely ignoring Sunwoo’s blabbering (like he was doing for the last few minutes anyway), Eric confidently (and a bit shakily– hands sweating and breath hitching in his throat) walks to the other side of the bonfire, from where he’s been watching your stone expression through the flames, and sits down in the small place between you and Changmin. Changmin wasn’t even facing you, too engrossed in the debate he was having with Chanhee, and so it was Eric’s job to wobble his bottom into the place, efficiently making the older boy move away with a light elbow jab sent into his lower back.
“Hi,” he clears his throat, “are you having fun?” he asks, but mentally curses at himself right as the question escapes his mouth– does she look like she's having fun? Of course she doesn't, you stupid idiot.
You smile at the question, though, nodding. “Yeah,” you hum, “having lots of fun listening to your friends argue and my friends making out next to my ear.”
“You seemed like it too, y’know,” Eric laughs, “they’re always like this, by the way. They’ll forget about the fight in the morning.”
“Oh, that could never be me,” you sigh, shaking your head at the sentiment.
“No?”
“No,” you shrug, “I get too petty. If we have a fight, I’m not speaking to you for at least two weeks.”
Eric finds himself laughing at your comment. “I’ll remember that for future reference.”
Straightening your back and looking at your companion– as if you were going to call him out on his subtle hint of there being any future meeting between the two of you– you suddenly gasp and swiftly turn towards the bonfire, an honest mourn escaping your lips.
“Oh fuck!” you curse under your breath as your hand reaches towards a stick that’s had its end in the flame, the device efficiently resting against a rock in a position where you didn’t have to pay any attention to the snack you were cooking– more like burning– for yourself. With a quick move for the stick, you pull the tip of it out of the scorching red of the bonfire and look at it in an examining way, as if the result would be different and the marshmallow would unburn itself if you stared at it long enough. “I completely forgot about this!”
Eric takes a glance at the burnt piece of fluff, letting out a laugh at the black marshmallow in front of your face. “That’s not how you make a good s’more,” he notes, poking fun at your annoyed face.
“Oh, no shit, Sherlock…” you mutter under your breath, but your face looks a bit sad to see the piece go to waste. “I don’t know why I even tried, I’m bad at this stuff.”
There comes his moment, Eric thinks. “Well, you’re lucky, ‘cause you just met an expert at making s’mores.”
“Does a thing like that even exist?” you chuckle, rolling your eyes at the male in disbelief. 
“Of course it does! You’re looking at one now,” he grins, leaning over you to take a brand new marshmallow out of the bag to your right– sandwiched between your thigh and the couple in love– before he reaches over to your hand and takes the roasting stick out of your hand, slides the white fluffy cloud through the sharp tip and hovers it above the flame.
“The key is to hold it above the flame, and not in the flame,” Eric chuckles as he looks at you from the corner of his eye, watching your expression change.
“Oh, but I thought the key is to burn the thing,” you ironically gasp, shaking your head at his teasing. “Where did you even learn all of this?”
“I grew up in the States,” Eric hums, “they would deport me if I didn’t know how to make s’mores.”
The comment gets a giggle out of you– a sound Eric almost folds at and falls into the open fire (thankfully, he held his composure– he doesn’t think 3rd degree burns would suit his look) – and it takes everything in him to not scream like a teenage girl at the thought of making you laugh. Yes, that’s how down bad you managed to get the male.
“Do you have a special recipe?”
“Just the basic one,” he shrugs, turning the skewer in his hand to make the marshmallow equally glazed on each side, “I will make it extra good for you, though.”
“I thought a master always does their best?” you tease, watching as the boy crumbles under your gaze.
“Not always. I don’t like to put effort into things that aren’t worth it,” Eric hums as he takes the marshmallow out of the burning fire, examining it, and after deeming it worthy, taking the skewer and holding it up in between his knees. The male takes a graham cracker and tears it in half, before adding chocolate to one of the sides. After he’s done, he carefully places the golden fluff ball onto the cracker and closes it, offering the sweet sandwich to you with a subtle smile.
“For you,” he winks as he turns back towards the fire, putting another marshmallow onto the stick to make himself a s’more as well (and also mentally kicking himself at the sudden burst of courage). He hears you take a bite out of the snack, his knee bouncing up and down nervously as he awaits the verdict.
“Man,” you hum, “this is so good.”
“Told you,” he says, “if there’s something I’m confident in, it’s making s’mores.”
“That’s a very unuseful skill to have,” you note, but continue to eat. The comment has him chuckle and shrug.
“Well, I used it now, so I’d argue it’s actually very useful.”
A hum cuts out of your throat at this, finishing the s’more he made for you with a satisfied sigh. “Is this how you got girls back in the States?” you ask, making the male choke on his spit.
Eric was too young to get girls when he learned how to make the greatest s’mores. He went camping with his dad and his older sister and he burned a couple before he got it right. He was in middle school and before what the kids call a glow-up these days (back in the days, you just called it overcoming puberty), but still– he decides to test the waters with another lazy, half-assed flirty comment. “Only the pretty ones.”
He hears a chuckle out of you– a reaction he decides to not pay much attention to or overthink, for he doesn’t really remember what a good reaction to flirting is anymore– but then, you sigh and nod. “Well, I give your s’more a 5 star review, so I’d find that believable.”
The comment has Eric press his tongue into the inside of his cheek, battling a victorious smile that wants to oh so desperately appear on his lips. Turning his attention fully to you, he looks at you with confidence coating his insides– it only grows when he notices you staring at the side of his face, the flame of the fire twinkling in your eye and making your features sharper and twice as attractive to the poor boy. 
His eyes scan you over for a few seconds before he notices a glimmer of something on the side of your lip– a chocolate stain that has him cautiously lean in and swipe a thumb over the sweetness, not even thinking twice before smoothing his finger over your skin. 
“You had a little… something there,” he hums as he licks the chocolate off his thumb. Your eyes still trained on him force him to avert his gaze back to the fire– for it was unbearable, as if sparks were flying and burning his skin, everything about the interaction making goosebumps appear over his body; even though he felt hot in his cheeks and not at all cold– when the sight of his marshmallow in flames suddenly comes to him, startling him awake.
Hurriedly dragging out the burnt snack out of the fire, he hears you chuckle at him from the side– so much for not ruining the moment. (It’s okay, though. As long as you’re entertained.)
“I thought you were a master at s’mores,” you poke fun at him, “got distracted?”
Meeting eyes with you, Eric shrugs, a lazy grin settling to his lips. “I guess you could say that.”
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The night progresses quickly– with Sunwoo getting so drunk he borrows Jacob’s guitar and clumsily strums the strings, freestyle rapping about the most random topics with flushed cheeks and eyes dramatically glued to the fire; Hyunjae wanting to have a competition of who can jump over the flames and Sangyeon having to stop his drunk friend with the force of his own body– and Eric finds his eyes lacking the candy he’s been occupying himself with the whole evening. You disappeared somewhere into the house a few minutes ago, and although he didn’t want to be clingy, he walked up to the cabin with a nervous pep in his step– that’s it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.
Eric walks through the doorway, having his body immediately be met with the joined common room slash kitchen area. The cabin is kind of small (too small for the amount of people currently occupying it) and kind of old, but it’s a tradition to rent it every year during the summer, so no one ever questioned the decision or made the move to rent out a bigger one, no matter the growing friend group.
Your figure finally appears in the dimly lit kitchen area, your back turned to the doorway. Standing at the kitchen sink, it seems like you were doing the dishes– tons of plates used to carry grilled meat and sausages dumped carelessly into the sink, forgotten in a minute and leaving the last remains of food dry up on them and get hard to scrape off, a couple of glasses and mugs with their ears broken off from their age waiting with coffee stains at the bottom– and Eric immediately feels his heart fall down to his stomach, because why would one do the dishes in the middle of the night? Those usually get left there until the morning, when the least hungover person will take mercy on the rest and take care of them. Were you feeling excluded from the conversation? Did you feel bored? 
“What are you doing here so alone?” he asks, making you turn your head over your shoulder and smile at him– a stone falling off his heart at the action– before you shrug at him.
“Washing the dishes,” you say, as if it wasn’t clear already.
“I see that,” Eric chuckles, “what I meant to say was, why are you washing the dishes in the first place?”
“Well, somebody’s gotta do it.” 
Eric huffs– and he doesn’t even know why he’s so defensive about it. “That someone didn’t have to be you, y’know.”
He’s standing next to you now– your eyes meeting as you stare at the boy for a heartbeat– a smile spreading on your face at his furrowed brows. The action has him visibly relax, watching as you shrug and get back to the dish washing. “I just wanted some alone time for a bit,” you muse, “outside was getting too loud for a second, I’m not used to crowds.”
“Ah… once Sunwoo drinks, he can’t shut up, so I kinda get that it was starting to feel insufferable,” Eric notes, nodding at you in acknowledgement before the realization hits him. “Wait– you said you wanted to be alone, so I should probably-”
You halt him with a soft laugh– the one Eric finds his heart liking a little too much, with how it jumps up and down and makes all of him feel warm inside– a soapy hand reaching out in his direction. “It’s okay, you can stay,” you muse, “I enjoy your company.”
“O-okay,” Eric stutters– so much for the smooth lines he had prepared in his head before coming in here, all of them flying out of his head straight out of the window– and to not seem so silly, he gets his hands occupied and reaches for the clean dishes you started stacking on the counter next to the sink, deciding to dry them and put them away. The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence that only gets broken by an occasional scream landing through the walls from outside, and Eric can’t help but indulge himself in the domesticity of the act.
He can almost imagine you two washing the dishes like this in your shared apartment after you two cook dinner together and eat it in your cozy living room. That scenario sounds almost too good for the boy, having warmth slowly ooze into his cheeks, and that, he finds to be the hint that he should probably stop thinking about you in that way now or else he’ll get too distracted and break the glasses he is currently putting away. (God forbid– there were not enough of them for the entire friend group in the first place.)
“Are you having a good time, though?” Eric finds himself asking through his weird delirium.
You smile– oh god you smile, you should stop doing that if you want him to survive the night– and nod at the boy, calmness overtaking your aura and slipping into his cracks as well. “I am. It’s nice meeting new people and everyone’s very nice,” you say.
“That’s good to hear. How long have you and Yeri been friends?”
“A couple of years,” you note, “we met during high school. We always dreamt of moving away to college and living together at dorms or something, so it’s… it’s nice that it worked out for us,” you say, having Eric nod at your words with a sweet smile.
“That’s great to hear,” he muses, “I met Juyeon and Sunwoo in my freshman year of college, and the rest just… came along after a while.”
“Your friend group is pretty big,” you point out, having the boy shrug.
“I guess so,” Eric mumbles, never really thinking of it this way– in his eyes, this was normal. This was how he operated, how he lived. A lot of people around him, always close– one would think such a large friend group wouldn’t be as close with each other, but it’s quite the opposite in his case, he thinks. Maybe he was just blessed.
“How do you do that?” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I dunno,” he snickers, “guess you could say I’m quite the social butterfly.”
“I can see that,” you laugh. Eric watches you, his hands now empty of any dish– he’s been drying them quicker than you manage to clean (and rightfully so, the food is stuck on there) – he starts noticing the details of your sheer presence. How you have a slight smile playing with your lips even when your eyes are glued to the sink, how your hair slightly slips out of the claw clip and frames your face, how close you’re standing– his eyes slip towards your hands, noticing the water running down your forearms and dangerously close to the sleeves of your shirt.
Acting on reflex, mostly, the boy reaches towards your sleeves and gently tugs them up, the contact of your skin that he initiates and should realistically be prepared for making the tips of his fingers tingle, the action having you stop in your movements and glance up at him through your eyelashes– a sight he wishes he could engrave into the back of his eyelids so he could stare at it forever and always.
“Thank you,” you hum, voice barely louder than a whisper when he retracts away from you, taking his previous stance against the kitchen counter.
Eric hangs his head low for a second, clearing his throat to ease his own tension. Now is your turn to start up the conversation, a casual question falling off your lips as you get back to washing the last remains of dishes. “Yeri said you come here often?” 
The boy nods enthusiastically to your sentence. “We do. We started in freshman year, because Juyeon was going to this exchange program to Paris for a couple of months, so we threw him a goodbye party. Then he came back, so we threw a welcome back party here. And then we celebrated Younghoon hyung’s birthday here, and it kind of stuck, I guess? We go here at least once a year during summer.”
“That’s a nice tradition to have,” you sigh, turning the faucet off as you finish rinsing off the last dish– a big bowl that Sangyeon used to marinate the meat a few hours ago.
“It is,” Eric nods, smiling fondly at the sentiment. He reaches for the bowl and dries it with the now damp rag (there were a lot of dishes to dry, after all), and moves to put it back to its place under the sink. With your figure still in its previous spot, the boy puts away the towel onto the kitchen counter and gently grabs your waist with his free hand, moving you away a few inches to the left. He crouches and opens the cabinet under the sink and puts the bowl into the pyramid of other ones, straightening his back when he goes back into a standing position, catching you staring at him from above, watching his every move. Your body is leaning against the counter, having Eric mirror your stance only a few inches away from you before speaking up again. 
“You’re welcome to join us when we come back next time.”
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The time reads 3AM– or at least that’s what his circadian rhythm tells him, because he doesn't bother to check as he twists and turns in the bed, too hot and too alert to fall asleep– when Eric decides to walk down the steep stairs and try to get some fresh air. The cabin is hot inside, but he still takes his lost button-up that he had thrown over one of the kitchen chairs and puts it on before he makes his way outside, knowing that the forest will make his bones get cold with the crisp breeze. 
He opens the door and moves to sit on the little patio– the silence of outside is overwhelming even after the cabin has quieted down and everyone has gone to sleep (each one on a different level of tipsy ranging from completely chill Sangyeon to doesn’t know where he is Sunwoo– with Eric somewhere in the middle of the spectrum). His legs drag a little tiredly as he scans his surroundings– god forbid there’s a bear out waiting for him– when the sight of a figure sitting on the floor takes him by surprise, their head already turned to him after hearing the sound of the door opening. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks as he walks over to you, noticing your frame dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, hinting that you at least tried to get some sleep before coming out here, just like he has.
“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug, confirming his suspicions.
“Same here,” the man sighs, “mind if I sit with you?”
“You’re welcome to join me,” you smile at him, patting the floor next to you and watching as Eric crouches down before taking a seat on the wood, ignoring the sunbeds and old rattan chairs situated all over the patio. (If you’re on the floor, he’s on the floor– it’s as simple as that.)
You’re holding a lollipop in between your fingers, your other hand occupied with a half-empty bottle of tequila that was previously passed around the circle at the bonfire. Eric raises his brows at the sight, having you shamefully avert your gaze from him.
“I thought it would be a waste to not finish this,” you say, snickering, “and I also… kind of hoped that it would put me to sleep…”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” 
“I guess you could say that,” you laugh. Taking a sip from the bottle, you gulp the alcohol down before putting the lollipop inside of your mouth, sucking on it and licking your lips after. This is not the way you’re supposed to drink tequila, but Eric figures that gathering salt and a lime would be too much work anyways.
“Are you really using that lollipop as a chaser?” he giggles, making you hum.
“Yeah,” you stare at him, a grin overtaking your features, “this girl taught me to do that at a party last year. It’s not as good as literally anything else, but it gets the job done. Wanna try?” you ask, offering him the sweetness on the stick and the bottle.
The truth is, you were only a bit tipsy when the group slowly started to scatter into their beds. Eric didn’t drink as much either– only enough to make him laugh at everything that was said and make his staring at you twice as obvious as it was before– so he thinks he can take some more. As you said, it would be a shame if the bottle went to waste– and also, something about the idea of drinking with you alone on the patio was making his hopeless heart hammer against his chest in dangerous measures.
“Sure,” he agrees, taking the bottle first. The boy takes a sip, feeling the alcohol burn down his throat, and when he moves the dark brown glass away from his lips, he is met with the image of you leaning closer to him, offering him the lollipop. His hand instinctively grabs the plastic stick, thinking you’re letting go of it, when he’s met with the feeling of your flesh under his fingertips. You put the lollipop against his lips, making him open up on instinct and suck on the strawberry flavored candy, a million different sensations (all unrelated to the alcohol) swimming through his brain– you’re so close, you smell so good, he’s holding your hand, he’s sucking on the lollipop you previously had in between your lips and it’s driving him crazy– before you take the candy out from between his lips and put it back into your mouth, tongue swirling around the sweet ball. 
The lollipop had an aftertaste of tequila on it, but it was enough to chase down the faint bitterness– Eric finds himself wanting to taste more of the sweet strawberry, but foolishly desiring to get the sensation off your lips instead. His eyes stay locked with yours throughout the whole exchange, sparks flying in between the two of you even though the bonfire has long gone out, his fingers lazily dropping from the candy.
“How was it?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper– goosebumps appearing all over Eric’s skin when he swears your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second. 
“Good,” he admits. It’s silly how he feels so breathless at the action.
The sound of the wind playing with the leaves of the forest is the only thing accompanying you two. It’s as if you two were thinking of the same thing when you pull out the lollipop out of your mouth and offer it back to Eric, watching with utmost interest as the boy leans closer to capture it in between his lips, never breaking eye contact. The action feels a little too electrifying to him, a little too intimate, but he can't stop– can't even imagine wanting to.
Taking a sip of the tequila, but not chasing it down with the candy, you speak up again, lazy eyes practically glued to him. “This would be a perfect moment for a kiss…” you mumble, licking your bottom lip for a split second before biting down on it.
“Are you flirting with me?” Eric foolishly asks, tone of voice a bit weak, a little unsure, the candy still in his mouth, making his words come out a little jambled.
“Mhm,” you nod, grinning to yourself– Eric wonders how much of your behavior and how much of his raging heartbeat is due to the effect of alcohol in both of your veins.
His fingers pull at yours as he takes the candy out of his mouth, voice dropping as he answers you. “Then we probably shouldn’t waste the moment.”
Even though the intentions are clear, the boy can’t bring himself to make the first move– he’s completely enchanted with your presence, staring at you with tension in his shoulders and eyes trained onto your face, watching and examining it for any shift or change. Focused on the way you move, he thinks you must have realized you were going to have to be the one to take the first step– your lazily smile before you lean closer, impossibly close– making Eric’s eyes flutter shut with anticipation, your breath fanning his face making goosebumps appear all over his body.
When your lips finally touch his, he feels like he’s being kissed for the first time again, with the amount of fuzziness in his stomach and buzzing in his ears. He regains his composure quite quickly, though, as he positions his head in a way that makes you two even closer to each other, lips pressing firmer against yours now. His hand instinctively reaches out to hold your jaw, fingertips glazing the soft skin under them, your lips retracting only to go in for more. 
Blindly placing the bottle onto the floor next to your bodies, you peck his lips and sigh into the kiss. “Damn, you’re good at this…”
“We’re only getting started,” he muses, making you chuckle. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm,” he nods, watching as you once again lean in and suck on his upper lip, making his eyes flutter close again. A weight appears over him as you shift in your place and move to straddle his lap, your hand moving to cup his cheek and tilt him upwards, everything about the kisses getting more hurried– less gentle, less hesitant– when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth and grant your tongue entry into his mouth.
Sweetness mixes in between you, your hands moving around his neck, heavy breaths shared across the patio. Eric feels like he’s levitating, his body having an out of body experience, yet being awfully present– every little shift pushing him to overdrive, the slightest touch making his skin burn and heart drum against his ribcage.
You shift in his lap, making him huff under the pressure, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck. Teeth glazing the jointure of your shoulder, kitten licking the place and sucking in a bruise that will eventually be visible to everyone when you two wake up in the morning, Eric feels your hands tugging down the sleeves of his shirt, fingers feeling up his biceps. The action makes him chuckle into your neck, but the smile fades quickly as he feels your nails scratching gently at his flaming skin.
“Take this off,” you mutter, and Eric finds it endearing– helping you take him out of the button-up, sitting under you in just a white tank top and black basketball shorts. 
“Why?” 
“Your arms looked good in this,” you hiss before you hide your face into his neck, leaning down to give him your fair share of kisses and love bites, having the male teasingly joke as his hands run up under your tank top, painfully aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra anymore.
He moves his head to the side to give you more access before speaking out, tone of voice husky and coated in lust. “What if I get cold now?” 
“Then I’m more than happy to move this to your room,” you purr into his ear.
Eric sighs, fingers playing with the hem of your top before he lets his palms drift towards your exposed stomach, roaming across naked skin. Goosebumps appear all over your body at the action, making the boy victoriously grin. “It looks like you’re the one that's cold, though, babydoll.”
Rolling your eyes at the male, you shut him up by latching yourself onto his lips before you speak against his mouth. “I’ll take that as an invitation, then?”
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“Wake up Eric! The girls are leaving, you should at least go say goodbye!” Sangyeon roars into the boy's room, making the male turn over in the bed and huff out in frustration. He drags his arm up to shield his eyes from the sunlight hitting his face, the intention of just rolling over and sleeping more written very clearly in his face.
“Come on man, we’re leaving in an hour too, so you should go send them off and then pack your shit so we can load the cars,” Sangyeon says when he gets no reaction from the youngest. It’s to no use, apparently, and so as the oldest and most observant out of the group, Sangyeon decides to use physical force– he knows Eric would hate to have you go without saying goodbye. He’s not stupid. Or blind. 
A strong hold on his calves drags Eric out of the bed and makes his half-naked body fall to the floor, a yelp coming out of his throat finally making Eric’s body fully alert and awake. 
“Yo! What the fuck–”
“Put a shirt on and go say goodbye to Y/N before she goes, would you, sleeping beauty?” Sangyeon huffs before rolling his eyes at his younger friend, escaping the room and shutting the door close after himself with a loud thud (to add more effect to the scolding, Eric thinks).
The mention of your name has Eric quickly scrambling out of the bed. His heart hammers at the adrenaline rush, pulling a clean shirt out of his bag and dragging it over his head, the basketball shorts from yesterday’s night found on the floor being pulled over his lower frame in approximately 0.5 seconds. Eric takes the stairs 3 at a time– with how steep they are, he questions how exactly does he not trip and break his spine on his way down– and puts on a pair of slippers he finds at the door (that are not his, or his size, for the matter, making his heels comically stick out from the back). 
Without checking his appearance in the mirror anywhere, he swings the door open and walks out of the cabin, watching as the group settles in a half-circle around your car, Yeri loading the trunk with her duffle bag before she closes it shut and smiles at her boyfriend Juyeon on the side. Eric joins the crowd, clearing his throat when his eyes fall onto your figure, the sight in front of him freezing him in his spot.
You’re standing there, in your jean shorts from the day before, an oversized white button-up enveloping your frame. A clueless stranger might not tell the difference, but he does– you put the shirt onto your bare skin and buttoned it just enough to reveal a bit of your cleavage– and it’s so similar to the outfit you had on yesterday, just with one difference. 
You’re wearing Eric’s shirt. You’re wearing his shirt and your neck is scattered with red and purple-ish bruises, and no, Eric wasn’t that drunk and he remembers everything, but the events of last night suddenly play out right in front of his eyes like a movie, still nailing him to his spot and wiping out all of his vocabulary.
The boy feels hot in his cheeks as he watches you and your best friend pay your goodbyes to the rest of the boys, the men pulling you into side-hugs and fist bumps, shared ‘It was nice meeting you’s and ‘You should come by next time too’s resonating through the place. Soon enough, you reach the end of the make-shift half circle and lock your eyes with Eric, a playful smile softly appearing on your face.
“It was nice meeting you, Eric,” you hum, “I had fun,” you note, shooting him a knowing look.
“Me too,” he nods, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. He doesn’t know where the confidence of last night went, but he suddenly feels unarmed and lost. What does one do now?
The sight of you in his shirt makes him feel like his biggest (wet) dream has come true– call him cheesy, but it also wakes up a sense of déja vu in him from the day before– you with sunlight in your eyes, hair messed up in a claw clip. He feels like he just fell in love at first sight again. Is that even possible?
It’s good you have a sense in you that makes you take the initiative and be in charge when you see him faltering. A giggle cuts out of your throat as you lean in and hug the boy around his neck, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you speak in a hushed whisper, not wanting to be heard by the men around you.
“I stole your shirt from you, by the way. You should text me if you want it back, so we can meet up, or something,” you mouth, lips gently glazing the sensitive skin of Eric’s ear, and god does he feel like he's going to suffocate from the lack of oxygen this causes in his lungs.
“You look amazing in my clothes, so I won’t ask for it back,” Eric hums, “but I’ll text you just in case you ever wanna bless my eyes with the sight again.”
“Deal. I’ll make Juyeon text me your number,” you say before you pull away from him, shooting him a wink that almost has his knees buckling like a school boy in love for the first time.
You walk backwards and wave at the group, sending Eric one last look before you join the passenger’s side and close the car door behind you, the sound of Yeri starting the engine resonating through the quiet forest. The men wave at you until the Toyota disappears out of sight, only scattering inside when it does to gather their things and load up their cars as well.
Eric is woken up from his trance by a teasing whistle coming out of Sunwoo’s mouth and a father-like slap to his back from Sangyeon.
He wonders if he’s truly being so obvious. (He's unaware of the fact that you two had very visible matching love bites on your necks. It doesn’t take much effort to put two and two together– don't tell him that, though.)
Still, Eric shrugs and goes inside with a different kind of pep to his step. 
When he licks his lips, he swears he can still taste the strawberries.
339 notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS tournament! We are now finished with the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament; The Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament is ongoing. Submissions for hot vintage women are now closed, but we are accepting propaganda for those already in the bracket.
Round 1 of the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament began with 540 hot women in prelims. Round 1 starts Saturday, March 2nd, with posts going up over several days. All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. Every poll in the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be tagged with the hot woman in it if you need to search for a hot woman in particular.
FAQs:
“Where is [my favorite hot woman]?” It depends. Are all the Round 1 polls up yet? Have you checked all the polls in the tag? Have you done a tag search for her? If you still haven’t found her, either nobody submitted her or she did not fit the criteria of being a movie woman from 1910-1970.
“Can I still submit hot women?” No, the submission window has closed. Please do not send in women you wish had made it into the bracket. I can’t do anything with those asks and they just make me sad.
“I have additional propaganda for the hot women!” Great! Send me an ask or reblog the poll and add your propaganda to it. If you see a separate post that relates to your hot woman, like a fancam or a gifset, you can tag me in it. I don’t boost all the propaganda I see or receive, but I try to boost the best of the best.
If you’re submitting propaganda for your hot lady, I don’t accept propaganda that’s from beyond the end of this tournament’s era (ie don’t send me pics of them from before 1910 or after 1970). I also don’t accept propaganda of TV appearances unless it’s clearly a cameo where they’re playing themselves. If you have a TON of photos to submit, please send a few asks instead of one long one. I watch every video I receive so I can add trigger warnings, so please don't send long videos—I don't have time to review them.
I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about any hot woman. If you really hate that a certain hot woman is winning, send me positive propaganda for their hot opponent. If you think a hot woman shouldn’t even be included in the tournaments because of scummy things she did in her lifetime, please read my take on it here.
If I see repetitive, trolling, and/or bigoted remarks in the comments, I may block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a hot woman’s flaws or misdemeanors, that’s fine, but if I see consistent bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked.
The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t submit my own propaganda, and I don’t change what’s submitted beyond fixing spelling mistakes. If you hate a poll bio or a pic, let me know and send me something I can use instead. Thoughtless bitching will get blocked.
"Where are the hot men?" Most of them are in the shadow realm! Toshiro Mifune was crowned the winner of the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament, and the rest were banished where the sun never shines. You can find all the round 1 matchups here (thank you @markwatnae!), or you can search the archive by tag to find out more about what happened to all the different hot men.
"Why didn't my propaganda make it into the poll post?" Either I couldn't open the link, or there was so much submitted I could only pick a few. Because this tournament is so much bigger than the Hot & Vintage Men one, I'm limiting propaganda to 5 pics per hot lady for Round 1. I know, a bummer! I have to do it this way to keep myself sane. If you have a photo you really want the world to see, follow the propaganda guidelines above.
“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.
Thank you for being here! Enjoy the tournament.
156 notes · View notes
urbancowboyjoel · 3 months
Text
Bite The Hand Masterlist
Pairing: dark! Joel Miller x f!afab!reader
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Read on ao3 here | Bite The Hand Playlist
When Tess fails to come back from a run that likely took a turn for the worse, you and Joel embark on a mission to uncover what exactly happened and, hopefully, bring Tess back to Boston alive. Along the way, you and Joel are met with danger, challenges, and tribulations, coming to discover a deep understanding of each other and something much more than either of you originally anticipated.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, slow burn: it's going to be a long fic my friends, canon divergence, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is mid 20's & Joel is mid 40's), dead dove: do not eat, canon-typical violence, Joel had PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, eventual smut, eventual romance, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, boston QZ era, Joel is actually kind of a psycho but in a sexy way, vaginal sex, believe it or not there will be a happy ending, no beta we die like men, tw: death (chapter warnings will be incorporated when needed, and I will lyk if I update the list above)
Please let me know if you think there should be any additional tags or warnings! I try my best to tag appropriately, but sometimes things slip past me. :)
A/N: This will be a long one my friends, be ready for an interesting ride. If you would like notifications on tumblr when I post new parts, follow @urbancowboyjoel-library and turn on notifications. **inspired by Bite The Hand by boygenius**
My requests are open! I would love the writing practice as well as to interact with all of you lovely beings. Feel free to drop one in my inbox... click here!
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Bite The Hand: Prologue
Bite The Hand: Chapter One
Bite The Hand: Chapter Two
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fanby-fckry · 24 days
Text
Actually, I Don’t Like Cake Either
Day 1 of Ace Alastor Week: Cake Day
Word Count: 1,433
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
Rating: General Audiences
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Additional Warnings: Spoilers for Hazbin Hotel Season 1 Episode 8 The Show Must Go On
Relationships: Alastor & Rosie (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Charlie Magne | Morningstar
Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Rosie (Hazbin Hotel), Mentioned Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Mentioned Hazbin Hotel Ensemble
Additional Tags: Canon Compliant (mostly), Post-Season/Series 01, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Light Angst, Friendship, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aromantic Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Talking, Conversations, Ace Community Inside Jokes
Series: Part 1 of Fanby’s Ace Alastor Week 2024 || Part 1 of Piece of Cake! ( || Next -> )
Summary:
“This isn’t the first cake,” Alastor confessed. “This isn’t even the second or the third! No, no, no, this is the sixth – the sixth – cake she’s given me since I returned to the hotel!”
Alastor broke into manic laughter. “I don’t even like cake!” he said. “I detest sweet things! Can’t stand them! But for some reason she Just. Keeps. Baking them!”
*
For some unknown reason, Charlie keeps baking Alastor cakes. With no sweet-tooth to speak of, nor the willpower to face Charlie’s disappointment should he turn down her gifts, Alastor seeks Rosie’s help with this dessert debacle.
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Better on AO3
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Alastor made his way through Cannibal Town, walking with a purpose and a cardboard pastry box.
In fact, the box was his purpose for being in Cannibal Town today.
He needed advice. And who better to ask than his dear friend Rosie?
“Alastor!” Rosie dropped everything she was doing to come rushing over to him. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! Things get so gloomy here without you!”
Alastor lifted the box above his head and out of the way as Rosie wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in for a hug.
The movement drew Rosie’s eyes upwards, and after a moment spent embracing him, Rosie turned her attention to the box.
“What’ve we got here?” she asked.
“My reason for visiting!” Alastor announced. Then, somewhat quieter, “If I could just speak to you in private…”
“Of course, of course!” Rosie ushered Alastor away from the crowd and into one of the more secluded spaces of her emporium – the same room they’d used to discuss Rosie’s potential involvement in defending the hotel.
“Come, sit down, get comfy.” She motioned for Alastor to take the closer chair, then crossed the table to take her own seat.
Alastor did sit, but he felt far from comfortable.
“Well?” Rosie folded her hands in her lap, and Alastor felt distinctly aware of his own hands, still gripping the cardboard box. “Show me what’s in this mysterious box of yours.”
Alastor set the box on the table and opened it to reveal…
“A cake?” Rosie laughed. “Alastor, you charmer, did you bake me a cake?”
Alastor exhaled in a sigh, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Actually, Charlie did!” he said, doing his best to keep his cadence and tone in its typical Transatlantic manner. “Although she baked it for me. I just didn’t want it to go to waste and was hoping you might know of at least one demon around here with a sweet tooth!”
Rosie raised one eyebrow. “There’s more you’re not tellin’ me, dearie,” she said.
Alastor looked down at the cake. Then back up at Rosie. Then at the cake again.
Even with his smile, Rosie could read him like an open book. There was no point in trying to deceive her. And besides, he had come here to ask for her help.
“This isn’t the first cake,” Alastor confessed. “This isn’t even the second or the third! No, no, no, this is the sixth – the sixth – cake she’s given me since I returned to the hotel!”
Alastor broke into manic laughter. “I don’t even like cake!” he said. “I detest sweet things! Can’t stand them! But for some reason she Just. Keeps. Baking them!”
“And then she hands them off to me with that smile of hers and…” Alastor closed his eyes.
He didn’t tell Rosie that he’d grown fond of Charlie. That he genuinely considered her a friend and couldn’t stand the thought of seeing that smile fall. A smile that was so unlike his own: honest and true where his was a weapon, a mask, and – more often than not these days – a lie.
He didn’t need to. Because Rosie already knew.
Alastor opened his eyes and folded his hands on the table. “I just don’t want it to go to waste,” he repeated, and it was half true.
“Why don’t you give it to one of the other guests at that hotel of hers?” Rosie asked.
“Because she would know,” Alastor insisted. “Vaggie and Angel Dust would sell me out in a heartbeat! Even if I gave it to Husker or Niffty and ordered them not to tell, it would only be a matter of time before she figured it out.”
“And besides,” he added. “Niffty really shouldn’t be eating this much sugar.”
Niffty on a sugar rush was a level of chaos even Alastor struggled to endure. At one point, the tiny cyclops had eaten an entire batch of cupcakes and wound up deep cleaning Alastor’s radio tower and stabbing a dozen demons – one of which was Alastor, himself! Non-lethally, of course. Although, the same couldn’t be said for the other eleven.
“Well, what did you do with the other five?” Rosie asked.
“Opened a portal and threw them into the same dimension I summon my tentacles from,” Alastor said with a dismissive hand wave. “They’re probably rotting in there. I’m not entirely sure whether or not those abominations eat, but I’d assume that if they do, they’re carnivorous.”
Rosie shrugged. “Well, I don’t mind sweets myself,” she said. “I prefer when they’ve got a little blood baked in, of course, but I can make do.”
“Thank you,” Alastor said, relief washing over him as Rosie picked up a knife to cut herself a slice.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do if she keeps this up,” he admitted.
Alastor knew what he had to do, and what would happen if he failed to do it. But he didn’t like the looks of either option.
Either Alastor was going to have to tell Charlie to stop and watch her mope around like a kicked puppy, or someone would eventually figure out that he was going out of his way to avoid disappointing her.
His reputation had already taken a massive hit after his battle with Adam – his televised defeat, his failure. He couldn’t afford to let any more evidence of weakness reach the masses.
Alastor’s inner monologue was interrupted by Rosie’s laughter.
“What?” he asked. “What’s so funny?”
Rosie stifled her laughter and put a hand on Alastor’s shoulder. “I think I might just have an answer to your dessert debacle, darling.”
“Oh?” Alastor’s ears perked up at the thought of a solution.
“Tell her you’d rather have garlic bread,” Rosie said, smiling ear to ear. “Bonus points if you use those exact words.”
Alastor tilted his head at a forty five degree angle. Garlic bread? he wondered. What does garlic bread have to do with anything?
But, he did prefer garlic bread to cake. Maybe if he could channel Charlie’s inexplicable urge to bake towards something he might actually eat, then he could have his cake and eat it too, so to speak.
“Well, it’s worth a shot!” Alastor decided. “Thank you for the advice, my dear. I may not grasp the particulars, but I trust your judgment! You always did have such a knack for these things. Why, it’s no wonder you’re Cannibal Town’s go-to gal for guidance.”
“Aww,” Rosie cooed, swatting playfully at his arm. “You’re such a flatterer. You’re gonna make me blush!”
Rosie hummed and took a bite of Alastor’s unwanted cake.
“Guess you’d better get back to that hotel and tell the Princess about the menu change before she fires up the oven again,” she said after swallowing the bite.
Alastor laughed. “Oh, I think I can stay a while,” he said. “Surely she’s gotten it out of her system for the time being.”
“You said this is the sixth cake?” Rosie asked.
“Yes,” Alastor confirmed.
“And would you say the rate she bakes them is consistent?”
“Hm,” Alastor hummed. “The first one was to celebrate my return… Then she baked another later in the month, then one about a week later… Two last week, and now…”
“Shit,” he cursed as it finally hit him. “The cakes are increasing.”
“Mhmm,” Rosie hummed. “How long did you have this one before you managed to sneak it out of the hotel?”
Alastor’s smile widened. “Well, it was great chatting with you, darling!” he said, wrapping Rosie into a hug and preparing to take his leave. “I’ll be seeing you!”
Rosie giggled. “Good to see you too, Alastor.”
She hugged him back, wished him luck, and just like that, Alastor was on his way.
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Rosie speared a piece of cake onto her fork, capturing all four distinctly dyed layers – black, gray, white, and purple, in that order.
“Oh, Alastor,” she said to herself with a sigh.
If only he would stop cutting her off every time she tried to actually bring up the concepts of asexuality and aromanticism.
Rosie could make jokes and puns that flew over Alastor’s head – although not over a certain Princess’s head, apparently – day in and day out, but the minute she tried to explain the identities behind them, she was met with, ‘I don’t care for all those modern labels,’ and ‘I don’t understand what any of this has to do with me!’
Too bad, really. Alastor would probably get a kick out of aroace in-jokes. Even if he didn’t like cake.
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caffeiiine · 3 months
Note
I read the tags on your Kunikida post… go ahead and explain, my liege
JUST SAW THIS SOMEHOW ABYWAYS TYYY
OKAY so probably going into detail about how kunikida can be considered passively suicidal since i have the most coherent thoughts on that aand warnings for stuff of that nature under the cut :D + length
[also small disclaimer, i have been procrastinating reading dazais entrance exam and so far have only seen the anime adaptation which apparently left a ton of stuff out so feel free to correct me on inaccurate details and/or missed examples or just downright incorrect information]
[note: idk if passive is the correct term bc i was thinking about it and hes not exactly like oh i hope this kills me yk, so whatever that term is lmk <3]
This stuff also sorta ties in with his ideals and their potential self destructive-ness. they tend to cause him to either negligently often risk his life with there being an apparent “other way”, or just outright risk his life with barely a second thought for his ideals.
so kunikida has very strong morals and that’s the core of his character. the main ideals referenced in the show being his infamous “ideal woman”, “how to make dazai ideal”, and the ideal that basically tells him to save people. [i forgot what that one is referred to as]. If we’re talking timeline wise i think one of the first examples of his ideals causing him to negligently risk his life would be in Dazais Entrance Exam, or The Azure Messenger arc if you’re an anime watcher.
First example off the top of my head in dazais entrance exam would be when him and Dazai first see the hostages, specifically the ones in the room
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after the gas came down dazai has to actually wrestle kunikida away from the room because otherwise hes gonna die. kunikida repeatedly shouts about how “people shouldn’t die like this”. This might be a bit of a tangent but later on in the episode he remarks how he “may as well ahev set the bomb off himself” when Dazai asks about Rokuzou’s dad, implying he blames himself for Rokuzou’s dad’s death. This is of itself isn’t enough for me to say “oh yeah he’s passively suicidal” so moving on to the main manga where there are several other instances of his tendencies to throw himself directly in harms way.
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[there may be examples before this i just skipped to chapter 40] and starting off strong we have the thing with Aya. This could be written up to circumstance but he had the opportunity to avoid death himself so im counting it. he’s basically hugging death. that’s all i have to say for this.
of course he ends up surviving it because of deus ex machina yosano. After the fact, Aya asks him what he would’ve done if Yosano wasn’t there. To which he replies basically he would’ve done the same thing he just did except died and basically would have been fine with the outcome as long as she didn’t die in front of him. [he would’ve been dead as well and not had to deal with the guilt] i should point out as well, he does this because of his ideals. he specifically cites his ideals around these parts usually. The not letting anybody die before his eyes is one of ideals and the most common one he uses.
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[im pulling that from the fact he had no backup plans or anything to actually stop the bomb aside from Yosano, since his words could imply he would’ve tried to save Aya. and the guy with the bombs was using the fact Kunikida holds his ideals very close to him, taht he wouldn’t have allowed Aya to die if he could’ve prevented it.]
aaand i think our last example and best example for tonight
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context for the scene: they’re in the getaway helicopter and tecchou is trying to take it down via his sword and Kunikida decides to take matters into his own hands and take down Tecchou. First off, HE DID NOT HAVE TO, CHUUYA IS RIGHT. THERE. HE LITERALLY SHOT TECCHOU WITH GRAVITY BULLETS EARLIER.
HE DID NOT HAVE TO RISK HIMSELF BUT HE DID. also additional context, in this arc and the previous arcs, he’s been faced with situation after situation where his ideals have failed him and he’s been unable to exercise them and save the people he thinks he should.
point being, he feels like complete shit! he probably is thinking like if he should do anything then, it should be he makes sure he gets his friends out of there. regardless of whether he’s dead or alive because he jumps out of the plane and full body tackles tecchou while being in direct contact with fucking chuuya.
chuuya “has to stay out of the fights and arcs half the time because he’s too good at his job” nakahara.
chuuya “just shot tecchou and did a decent job at keeping him back a few pages before” nakahara. you see my point.
oh and then he just attempts to blow the both of them up.
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he does not care for his life at all here. not one bit. also he did not need to blow the both of them up. he could’ve made a fucking stun gun or anything else that wouldn’t KILL the BOTH of them??
my whole point is he does not care for his life here and it’s gets worse the more you progress through the manga.
anyways anyways ending off, kunikida repeatedly puts his life in danger either for his ideals or neglectfully and/or without need. this has been a ramble. this man is not okay.
also kinda funny is he’s partners with dazai of all people, actively suicidal princess bungou himself. i really enjoy their differences and how similarly different they are.
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^ not actually related to anything but i almost started laughing so hard with my family in the room at this piece, junichiro looks so concerned
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kaciidubs · 3 months
Text
Confiscated
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❣ Summary: He was going a little too crazy on the new Fans app, and you would swiftly reign that energy back in. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 791 ❣ Warnings: Slice of life, fluff, humor, sexual innuendos, implied smut, mention of Bubble and Fans messages, Chris is a flirt and menace to stays, Reader teaches him the 'fuck around and find out' clause ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Christopher Bahng, Bahng, and Baby, Reader is referred to as Baby, this was a wild time for stayville, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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Tap tap tap. Send. Switch. Tap tap tap tap. Send.
He was having too much fun with making stays go wild - something about making them have the same reaction as he did, simply pushing him to continue on with his extravagant behavior. 
From Bubble to the new - and arguably buggy - Fans app, he was giggling up a storm in his bed as he watched various reactions begin to pour in from his not-so-subtle flirtatious comments and innuendos.
However, what he failed to remember was one stay was considerably close by, and her reaction wasn’t contained behind the screen of his phone.
“Christopher Bahng!”
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he narrowly avoided dropping his phone on his face, eyes shooting to the slightly cracked door of the bedroom.
The sound of footsteps swiftly followed suit before the door swung open to reveal your flustered, astonishingly enraged face as you held your phone up.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
“Um…” He squinted, unsure what he was supposed to garner from the black screen, “Talking to stay?”
“Oh, I know you’re talking to stay, mister ‘you know what’s sweeter than Dango Pudding’!”
The same heart that almost jumped out of his chest now fell to his ass - he could feel the heat of blush beginning to take over his face and ears.
“You still have my bubble?!”
You scoffed incredulously, “I- That- This isn’t about me! This is about you! You and your three addresses!”
His hands flew to his face, covering his eyes with an embarrassed groan, “No, no, no, please!”
“Nuh uh, it’s too late for begging, Bahng. Now, what’s this about some,” you paused, and he could hear the barely held back giggle threatening to break through your angered facade, “‘think you can handle it?’, huh? Or, ‘replying won’t be the only thing’, eh?”
Chris let out a shocked gasp as he scrambled to sit up, “You got Fans?! Baby, really?!”
“Baby? So I’m just ‘baby’? Not your-” A small snort escaped you, trying your best to keep a straight face, “-precious little Dango Pudding cup? Is that why you decided to stay on Bubble after wreaking havoc?”
“This can’t be happening - this cannot be happening right now.” Falling back onto the mattress, he stared up at the ceiling as he contemplated the pros and cons of simply disappearing off the face of the earth.
The bed dipped at the presence of new weight, hooking your leg over his hips to delightfully settle on his lap with ease.
“I’m confiscating your phone.” You hummed gleefully, leaning over him to grab the device currently abandoned beside his head.
“You’re what?” Angling his head, he caught your eyes with a pout, “You can’t do that!”
“Baby, you’re being extremely horny on main - trust me, I’m doing everyone a favor. Besides, aren’t you allegedly ‘cleaning your room’?” Looking around the bedroom pointedly, there was barely a hint of anything out of place, “Doesn’t look too dirty in here, but I’m sure we can make a mess to clean up.”
Your words had him choking on air, gasping and spluttering for words while a warm blush settled over him like a blanket.
“I- What- That’s- And you’re saying I’m the horny one?!”
Gasping in mock shock, you pressed your finger into his bare chest, “I’m like this because of you! Do you know how hard it is to try and watch a movie while your significant other is boldly sharing double entendres? How he’d do more than reply to his ‘favorite snack’?” Slowly trailing your index down the valley of his pecs, your tone softened as you tilted your head to the side, “Saying he’s not a flirt, then lamenting on how he needs them…” Honey dripped from your words as your eyes took on a sultry gaze, “Goading about whether or not they could handle it.”
The path of your finger stopped just above his navel, rising and falling with each bated breath he took - the air thick with lust and allure.
“Do you think I can handle it, baby?”
A chill ran down his spine, goosebumps rising along his skin as he blinked slowly, completely and utterly swept up in you.
He swallowed thickly, somehow managing to find his voice, “Can you?”
A smirk curled your lips, fire dancing behind your irises, “Guess there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
Phones discarded on the nightstand, it wasn’t long until the bedroom truly had to be cleaned - and with a fresh pair of sheets and a clean pair of clothes, he made a quick excuse for accidentally ghosting on Bubble; the true reason remaining in the form of hickeys on his skin and scratches on his back.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
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agendabymooner · 10 months
Text
part of you ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc)
“in the heart of me there’s a part of you”
summary: it’s 2024. lorelei hester ‘lester’ alessandro ricciardo returns to wreak havoc but as a married woman as she wonders what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. it turns out, there’s nothing better than a gift that she already planned on getting him.
content warning: sequel for rush series, married!ofc and married!danny ric, instagram posts, use of explicit language (maybe), pregnancy announcement, mobile app is used making this so it’s kinda icky, everyone asking for a mini ric
note: I GOT ACCEPTED INTO UNIVERSITY (I think). F1 TEAMS MEDIA RELATIONS HERE I COME 🤩🤩
masterlist
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tagged loricciardo
liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc
view 20083 more comments
ethaneskin BABY ALLIE-RIC!!!! liked by loricciardo and danielricciardo
user1 OMGGGG HAPPY BIRTHDAY INDEED
user2 omg 😭😭 this is the best thing to have ever happened to me and I’m engaged
landonorris zio lando’s bout to be the best zio of all zios 🫡😩
estebanocon noooo baby ric’s really going to choose their estie bestie over you 🙄
fernandoalo_oficial congratulations lori and daniel! really happy for you two ❤️ liked by loricciardo and danielricciardo
danielricciardo thanks man! we can’t wait for your little one to pop out soon— i’m sure thetrishalonso would kill to have our baby ric over for a playdate.
thetrishalonso oh pleaseee! baby ric would be an amazing addition to the paddock kids club 🥰
tillywolff omgomgomg finally 🎉 we’ve been wondering if lori’s finally told you about your little! congratulations danny and lori!!! can’t wait to see the little one (toto said that you’d probably have a boy) liked by loricciardo and danielricciardo
danielricciardo i trust toto— i know he’s guessed it correctly three times so i know he isn’t wrong in this one 🤩
ykaaar congratulations!!! can’t wait to be the best godfather ever to this little one 😍😍 liked by loricciardo and danielricciardo
loricciardo didn’t you tell my husband about having the best years of his life if we had a child???
ykaaar i meant that literally <3
loricciardo coglione 🙄
user3 pilfs in the making 😭😭😭 liked by danielricciardo
danielricciardo that’s just my wife 🫡❤️
loricciardo i know they’ll just have the same curls as you <3
danielricciardo i hope they’re just as wild as you ❤️
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tagged danielricciardo, daniel3.jpg
liked by carlossainzjr, steviemarlz, lewishamilton
user1 ahhhh i can just imagine baby ric causing havoc in the pits 😩
scuderiaferrari they’re about to be our littlest big ferrari fan 😍 liked by loricciardo
redbullracing wrong 🙅‍♀️ liked by danielricciardo
yukitsunoda0511 congratulations lori and daniel!
user2 the cake and everything 😭😭 so happy for you two
user3 mama y papa 😳🤯 liked by loricciardo and danielricciardo
lewishamilton are we building a library for mini ric or what??? liked by loricciardo and danielricciardo
danielricciardo already halfway through lewis 🤩
lewishamilton my man 🫡
landonorris i call dibs on godmother role
colabebe fuck off, that’s my role
charles_leclerc can i get a gold star for not spilling out an oopsie? liked by loricciardo
loricciardo yes you can ⭐️⭐️ have two— you’ve done a good job at hiding those tests away 🤣
maxverstappen1 was that why he almost vomited when i tried barging in the room?!
charles_leclerc maxverstappen1 yeah try to hide four pee sticks in your pockets then you’ll see how i felt 🙄
danielricciardo can i say it…
loricciardo daniel no
landonorris DANIEL YES!
thomasraggi_ “i’m so glad my senior swimmers worked hard for this one” -danny in our group chat 2024
user4 😅 sometimes i wish danny isnt allowed to use any social media platforms
danielricciardo can’t wait for our little wombat to arrive 🥰 liked by loricciardo
loricciardo you have a bad habit of making things more aussie than it is.
danielricciardo there’s no italian alternative babe. what do i call them? our little parmesan? meatball?
loricciardo i hate you.
carlossainzjr little parmesan is now their new nickname ❤️🧀
loricciardo oh good 🙄 can’t wait to hear that coming out of jenson and martin’s mouths
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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year
Text
Level 8000 (Gavi x Reader)
28 day writing prompt challenge - prompts are here
Day 6: Meeting for the first time
"Alright I'm going to get onto an online server. No one try to reach me for the next several hours."
Your roommates laughed at the warning as you slipped your headset on. You adjusted the ears, bringing the mic over your mouth, and settled back into the couch. Your hoodie and sweats swamped your form, providing maximum comfort for your gaming session. Were you a fantastic gamer? No. But had you fixated on two or three games for long enough to get good at specifically those games? Yes, yes you did. One of those games was FIFA. You had played all the events throughout the World Cup, in between the early morning matches, and late at night when your 7pm Redbull kept you up until the early hours.
This binge playing over your winter break, as well as the game events, lead to you having a crazy stacked team. You had a super high Neymar as your front man, meaning that as long as you got the ball in the last 1/3 of the field, you were almost guaranteed to score. When all your real life friends had grown tired of you winning 7-0, you turned to PS online. People on the internet were ruthless. You played against stacked teams, losing your first dozen matches. But as you practiced and upgraded your players (as well as googling some good team formations), you started to win. Your win-loss ratio improved immensely with the addition of one piece of equipment: headphones with a mic. You started to join the voice chat, and the sound of a woman sent these poor gamer boys into a frenzy, allowing you to score two goals before they could recover.
Now it was your escape. You loved the power of overwhelming men just by saying "good luck", and the profanities that followed when you won. Tonight was no different. You had already beaten four different whiny men, and had tied a game with another girl on the voice chat, who practically squealed with delight when she heard the sound of your voice. Now it was time for match number 6 of the night, and you were sufficiently warmed up, ready to destroy.
[Opponent] - 6avira30
You smiled, thinking to yourself 'Awe, a Gavi fanboy. I wonder if he has him in midfield." The audio connected, and you heard a couple different male voices yell at each other in Spanish.
"Hello?" You said softly into the mic. Couldn't have them think you were anything other than a soft uwu girl using her boyfriend's account. The voices stopped suddenly, with a long pause before the reply: "Are you a girl?" You laughed at the question. It was not the first time you had gotten it, but the utter confusion in the boy's voice caught you off guard. "Yeah, I am. Hurry up and lock in your team so we can start the match." "Ay, be patient. My great strategic mind needs time to work."
You groaned into the mic. These "strategists" often were the most annoying people to play with, and often the one calling you a cheater or a bot or saying that your "man" was playing while you were on the mic. You locked in the same team you always used, and waited for the great mastermind to lock in his squad. The match began a minute later, and you were not surprised to see it was mostly Barca players, old and new.
"Wow a Xavi-Iniesta midfield. It's been a minute since I've seen that." You said, trying to get the ball across the center line.
"They're the best duo in the world. Everyone should have them in the middle." The boy replied, harshly attacking all your midfielders. It had been a while since you encountered someone who played this aggressively, but it was interesting enough to get you to sit up straight.
"Really? Given your tag, I thought you would have Pedri and Gavi in the middle."
The boy got quiet at this, the statement clearly catching him off guard. It was the lapse in focus that you needed, getting the ball to your super-charged Neymar, and slamming a goal in from outside the box.
"What the actual fuck was that?" A yell came in from the other side. You laughed freely now. This was a fun match. You were being challenged in the middle of the field, really having your defense tested. The boy kept you entertained online, asking all the typical questions about how you got so good. The match ended 3-1 to you, and you were about to say goodbye when a notification popped up on your screen.
[6avira30] - Rematch Requested
"You want to play against me again? One loss wasn't enough?"
"I'm not going to lose again. I just have to recalibrate the squad."
You continued playing against the same opponent for 7 or 8 matches in a row, the conversation moving from the game to your lives.
"So you've never been to a football match in person? How is that possible? You live in Barcelona!"
"I'm a university student who is struggling to pay my rent. I don't have the time or money to buy tickets. Well, at least the tickets that I want."
"Well, what tickets do you want?"
"I want the ones that are right up on the field, so at the end of the game I can ask Lewy for his shirt at the end?"
"Lewandowski? Not one of the younger players?"
"Nah, everyone is always yelling for Gavi's shirt. And while it would be nice to see Gavi or Pedri shirtless, I feel like if I was ever lucky enough to get one of their shirts, my life would be in danger. So I would rather get a shift from DILF Lewy."
A loud laugh came in through your headphones. The boy yelled at his friend in the room, "She just called Robert a DILF."
At the end of the match (a 2-1 win for you), it was time to log off. You informed your online partner, bidding him a good night.
"Wait wait, before you get off, could you send your number in the chat? It's fine if not but I'd really like to talk to you again."
"My number? Why not just my Instagram?"
"I... Can't really follow you on Instagram. It's kind of complicated."
You sent him your number and logged off, going to bed with a stupid smile on your face. A boy had asked for your number. Could he be a weirdo in his mom's basement? Absolutely. But you could find that out later.
You woke up to a text that read: Hope you slept well - Lindo from PS Live. The stupid smile stuck to your face all day. For the next two weeks, you texted this boy almost every waking moment. You could not get enough of him, despite the fact that you couldn't get him to tell you his name.
[PS Live Boy]: Want to have coffee with me tomorrow?
The text set the butterflies in your stomach free, the fluttering feeling spreading to every cell in your body. You has said yes embarrassingly fast. He texted you the location: a pretty upscale coffee shop in the shopping district. Like 17 euro black coffee upscale. You now jumped up and down like a giddy school girl - PS Live boy had money.
You walked into the place, the hostess looking over your skirt and sweater with a sickly sweet smile, asking who you were supposed to be there with. PS Live boy had left the table under your name as to maintain his shroud of mystery. You sat at the table, reapplying your lip gloss and checking your hair in the camera of your phone.
[PS Live boy]: you can't freak out when you see me
[PS Live boy]: Because then I would have to leave and block your number
[PS Live boy]: and file a restraining order. and i dont want to do that
You let out a nervous breath, smiling at your screen. Usually when men said not to freak out, it was because they were ugly. The hostess that didn’t like you walked over to the table again, closely followed by someone in a hoodie, hood pulled up to cover their face. She pulled out a chair, and your PS Live boy sat in front of you. He thanked the hostess, before turning back you you and pulling his hood off.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Gavi looked at you with a cheeky smile playing on his lips. You were overwhelmed. Pablo mf Gavi had met you on PS live and liked you, asked for you number, and was now here on a date with you.
“Three weeks of being mysterious was worth the look on your face.”
“As Spain’s youngest player on the national team, how are you so shit at FIFA?”
“Okay okay okay, let’s go back to you being surprised and not talk about me getting my ass kicked 8 times in a row. Pedri still makes fun of me?”
“Dang Pedri was there? I should’ve asked for his number instead.”
“You have me leveled up to like 8000 in FIFA. I know you want to be here with me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: this was supposed to be done last night but I fell asleep lol. I love the idea of Gavi being kinda cheeky and self confident. Most talented young boys are (because society inflates their egos). Anyways, see y’all later tonight w day 7!!
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viburnt · 3 months
Note
Saw your Leopard Dabi Headcanons and... OH BOY!
👁👄👁
You left me speechless...
Hear me out though - this one is a kicker I tell you: Shiggy as a HYENA.
Listen, LISTEN *flips table* My head could only think of sub Shigaraki. Bear with me.
CONTENT WARNING: NSFW, mentions of pegging, overstimulation, domming, uh- yeah. Dead dove, do not eat.
Hyena! Shigaraki
• Listen, Hyenas are matriarchal. They use hierarchies like any other species, but the particular thing with them is that (no matter what) females will always be on top. Are you starting to catch my idea? The male hyena is submissive and will comply with what their female partners decide. Hyena! Shigaraki shares those traits in particular! Yes, he may be the leader of his team, but when it comes to you, he bends. He tries to please you because he instinctively seeks the leadership you have within. There's also a bit of fear in the way he looks at you because female hyenas can be aggressive with males. Sometimes he expects you to snap and berate him (and he thinks it's something he'd like).
• In the privacy of his room, he encourages you (in a rather bratty way) to put him in his place. Make him know he is yours, mark him down, slap him if you want. Hyena! Tenko acts like he is challenging the hierarchy (even if you're not a hyena hybrid like him). Did I mention female hyenas have pseudo-penises? It's a bit of a fun fact, but this just means (in my heart) that Hyena! Shigaraki wouldn't mind pegging at all. It doesn't mean he'll always bend and break for you, after all, he does have the need to breed you. But, if you are a dominant person or simply enjoy BDSM, Hyena! Tomura will be your best companion.
• Hyenas also have quite the reputation for their odd laughs and looks, and Shigaraki has the whole "freak show" aesthetic going on (let's face it, he is a bit of a freak, but we love him). In addition, he tends to laugh in the most inappropriate moments too. Ah, by the way, sometimes males behave badly with younger cubs of higher ranking when the mother is absent; him bullying a kid over something petty when the parents are gone is canon. "You suck at this fucking game!" "I-I-m 7-" "GET LOST" Hyena! Shigaraki is such a gremlin, do not leave him with kids unsupervised- 100% sure that he'll laugh if a kid starts crying.
• It's also cute to notice how Shigaraki always has bad posture, lowering his head when he talks to you or is gaming. Hyenas do that too! You tease him a lot, running your fingers through his back to make him jolt and straighten his posture. He is embarrassed and low-key hates when you do that, but your touch feels so good he just squirms.
• Hyena! Shigaraki enjoys it when he can have control over you though. When you allow him to get away with his antics and the subtle touches he sometimes dares to try, the hyena starts building a confidence that often culminates in fuckaery. The kind where he has your legs up to the sides of your head and he is trying to pound a baby into you. It's like a drug for him, such a power trip for a submissive hybrid. His brain can't decide if he should say "Thank you" for letting him fuck you or degrade you like a whore while you whine.
"Fuck, you like that?" You pant, grinding your heat against his poor overstimulated dick. You'd been straddling Shigaraki for a while, the hyena hissing and pleading for a chance of pushing his cock inside you. He looks at you with vexation eyes, the pink hue of his cheeks betraying him. "You can cum if you want, I won't get mad."
You lean over his face, kissing his lips almost mockingly. "You should take the opportunity, because once I'm done I won't be letting you cum later."
Shigaraki winces in both pain and pleasure, feeling his body unbearably hot and heavy.
"Cum. Now."
He had to clean the mess by himself once you were finished.
Tags: @shonen-brainrot @imaginationmess @trickster-kat @i-literally-cant-with-this @doumadono
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writingforstraykids · 4 months
Note
"One of us is going to end up with a broken heart" -> them saying no to adopting/fostering a cat or kitten, so probably Min, you can make it a runt of the litter if you want to sprinkle some angst, but only sprinkle! I can't handle being drowned 😭 Honestly this feels self indulgent now, but we ain't gonna dump now, no sir-e
Just a fluffy time with the "no we can't keep it" dad trope (dad? I mean if you wanna, I won't say no 🙈) then them being the reason its kept, always a sucker for this ugh, gen.neutral would be fine, see no reason for specification on this, go ham, cause I kinda did lol whoops
Aww I love this thought so much, I finished it immediately after you sent it in🤭 I do hope you like it💕
Pairing: Minho x gn!reader
Warnings/tags: pure fluff
Word Count: 767
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“Minho, no,” you shake your head firmly as you realize where your husband is so eagerly taking you this cold December morning. 
“You don’t even know what I-” he starts protesting but gets cut off quickly by you.
“Min. We’re not adopting another cat!” you groan softly. 
Minho parks the car in front of the animal shelter and turns to you with a big pout and the best puppy eyes he can muster. “But-”
“Minho Lee, I said no,” you shake your head, thinking of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, who had just gotten familiar with the newest addition, Cookie, a small brownish-grey goofball who’s been keeping you busy this past month. 
Minho sighs softly and looks at you, utterly heartbroken. “Baby, listen, we agreed ‘no kids yet,’ but…I have to share my love somehow.”
Your jaw drops, and you try to stifle a laugh. “Minnie, you have four kids already, five if you count Felix as your fifth kitty.” That makes him laugh as well. “You can practice being a dad of five, do we really need a sixth kid?”
-
“Look at him, isn’t he sweet?” Minho asks, voice growing all gentle and sweet like you know him around cats. In the small basket in front of you, there’s a little black kitten staring at you with big brown eyes. Your husband turns toward you in search of agreement, and suddenly, you’re faced with two brown-eyed kittens staring into your soul. 
“He is,” you nod, eyeing him suspiciously as he pets his head softly.
Minho looks back at the kitten and makes a soft sound, his smile widening as he kneels down, and the kitten makes a few wobbly steps towards him. Minho picks him up after checking with the employee and rubs his forehead against the kitten’s head. “He looks like Channie, doesn’t he? All in black and those sad eyes.”
You chuckle and roll your eyes at him fondly. “Ah, that’s why; you miss your hyung so much you want to adopt a kitten looking like him.”
Minho shoots you a playful glare and shakes his head. “Obviously not.”
“Minnie, come on,” you sigh softly and shake your head. “It’s too much.”
“Cookie needs a little brother, that’ll make him responsible,” he says so seriously it makes you laugh. 
“Min.”
“Seriously, Y/nnie,” he sighs and makes eye contact with the kitten. “Always the same with them. One of us is going to end up with a broken heart at this rate,” he tells him. 
“Minho, seriously,” you laugh and smack his head playfully.
“You’re such a meanie,” he pouts. 
“And you’re forbidden to take another step into an animal shelter in the next five years at least,” you shoot back, and his head spins toward you. 
“Five years?! Honey, are you crazy?” he gasps and sets the kitten back down. “I’m so sorry, Channie, I would’ve taken you in any day. I would’ve made sure you had a cozy spot, delicious food and you’d be our new maknae kitten.”
Oh, for fucks sake.
-
“Cookie, look, you got a little brother,” Minho announces cheerfully and sits down, keeping your sixth kid in his lap. He makes a happy sound and wiggles from side to side as Cookie nuzzles his face against the newcomer. “Soonie, Doongie, Dori, come here,” he calls out for the rest and holds up the black kitten above his head. “Say hi to your baby brother, Channie.”
“No, he won’t. He’ll kick your ass if you tell him the reason for it,” you snort.
“Minho,” you crack up. “You can’t seriously call him that.”
“Why not? He’ll love it,” he grins smugly.
“He’ll never know,” he shrugs and sets down Channie on the floor. “Never,” he announces and looks at you firmly.
“Come on, I said yes, let me at least choose another name,” you laugh and sit down next to him. “I don’t want to wake up to you calling out for beloved hyung in the morning.”
“Fine~,” he sighs and side-eyes you with a light huff. 
“Oh! I know something, we’ll call you Lixie,” you say proudly after a moment.
“And that’s supposed to be better?” he asks sarcastically, ruffling your hair. “I can’t name two of my kitties the same.”
“You call him Yongbokie either way. Shut up,” you giggle, and he pokes your side.
“You shut up,” he giggles and presses his lips firmly against yours. “I love you so much, baby,” he beams at you.
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
“Yeah, yeah, anything to satisfy my beloved cat dad,” you snort and ruffle his hair, giggling softly. Gosh, you love this idiot.
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
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Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)
@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @galaxycatdrawz @aaasia111 @channieaddict @kthstrawberryshortcake
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goodtoyous · 9 months
Text
The Trouble With Tagging
Tagging in fandom is useful, but ultimately detrimental because of how people are using it.
When I shop online for shoes, tagging is what lets me filter my view to white sneakers in size 7.5. But there are other attributes I look for in shoes. Maybe I want shoes with widely-spaced holes so they aren’t too tight when I lace them. Maybe I want to buy soles that aren’t too thick because I think that makes them clunky. And there will be other people who have these preferences too, so that must mean they’re useful classifications to have!
So it should be in a company’s best interest to provide me a way to find white sneakers in size 7.5 with widely-spaced holes, thinner soles, and whatever else I want in my shoes. Because otherwise it’s just a waste of time for me to buy something and return it later when I don’t like it, right?
No. Absolutely not.
I can’t ask for all the shoes that aren’t red to be tagged as #Not Red. I can’t ask for all shoes to be tagged #Loose Around the Ankles, when that isn’t a universal metric. The best way for me to find the shoes I want, and maybe this is still somehow controversial but I can’t imagine how, is to go into the store MYSELF and either try on shoes until I find ones I like, or ask a salesperson to help me.
Yet, somehow, people fail to see how this applies to tagging.
Back in the days of cable television, when a show was about to start, you’d see a rating and a content warning. ‘Viewer discretion is advised’, and maybe a few more words on what kind of content to expect: crude language, sexual situations, or graphic violence. We still use variations of those ratings and contents warnings on AO3 today, and they are very useful, standardized indicators.
Writers would use these indicators, and it was understood certain ratings would contain adult topics. There was nuance there, and room for interpretation, and responsibility on the reader’s side for monitoring their own content consumption.
In fandom, we coined our own terms to help enforce the idea that fanfiction was a free space for everyone to write what they wanted. ‘Don’t like; don’t read’ (DL;DR) is a common term that has perhaps become less common over the years, and has lost some of the meaning it used to have.
DL;DR does not mean ‘we, the writers, will warn for every topic that this work will include so you can avoid it’. What it meant was, if you read a story and came across something you didn’t like, you would stop reading. It did not have to be something triggering, it could just be something you didn’t like. You would hit the back button and that was the end of it.
Using tags became a way to include additional information on a story so that people could avoid certain topics more easily. So that back button didn’t need to be hit quite as often. Nowadays, I feel as though people have begun to see it as a requirement.
People will preach about wanting to avoid content they don't want, but you have always been able to do that from the very beginning. You always have the option to close the tab, to stop reading.
‘I wouldn’t have read this if I had known ___’ is a complaint most writers are not unfamiliar with. Readers complain about having wasted their time on stories that were ‘disappointing’, ‘problematic’, or ‘misleading’, simply because there is an aspect of a story they disagree with.
If a story doesn’t have ‘Unhappy Ending’ slapped on it, readers hold the author responsible for their emotional response. If one topic isn’t tagged, the author is somehow at fault for being ignorant, insensitive, or irresponsible.
It is grossly misleading to approach this by assuming authors are acting incorrectly, or possess malicious intent for not including a tag. Simplifying fiction by categorizing it into tags is exactly what that is, simplifying it. Maybe it isn’t tagged because it's a spoiler. Maybe the author didn't think it was an important aspect of the story. Maybe they just forgot!
If an author is mistagging and misrepresenting their work, that is a different story that is subject to different nuances. But it is not a requirement, unspoken or otherwise, to include a tag, because this isn’t how reading works! There is a reason why 'Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings' exists, and that is because tags are for an author to classify their own work how they see fit. It is their choice!
People have been trained by social media into not curating their own content; they let algorithms and FYPs do it for them, and when they see something they don't like, they blame it on the person who posted it.
"How dare anyone encroach on this public space with something I don't want to see!"
So I ask you this: does an author’s opinions and desires on how their work is presented not matter? Are authors shackled to public opinion irregardless of what they believe is most important about their own creation? Should creative control be fully relinquished because people who had nothing to do with a work's creative process believe they know better?
If your answer to that last question isn’t a firm, resounding NO, then you are admitting you feel more entitled to a creator’s work than the actual creator.
Society has evolved to no longer value art for being art, but value art only if it is able to conform to various labels for commodified consumption. Yet there is no faster way to kill true art than to try and cram it into a billion tiny little boxes.
Fiction is subjective. Tastes are subjective. Tagging is useful, but it isn’t everything. Take responsibility for the content you consume. Stop asking people to pick out your shoes for you, and go try some on for yourself.
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pedroshotwifey · 18 days
Note
Prompt #36 with Dieter or Ezra? 👀
Hi, my friend! I'm sorry this took a hot minute, but I hope you'll be happy with the result!
Better
Pairing: Ezra x f!reader
Word count: 2k
Tags/warnings: extreme overstimulation, sub reader, use of toys, orgasm control, light bdsm, restraints, tears, piv sex, subspace/disorientation, Ezra being Ezra and saying Ezra things
Summary: You join Ezra on his unscheduled break, not knowing you're in for the ride of your lifetime
*****
“Ez?” 
You walk into your shared tent, confused as to why he’d suddenly abandoned you in the middle of your excursion. The two of you were almost ready to pack up anyway, but you thought the plan was to wait it out until the day was up. 
You come in to find him lounging on the bunk, spread out on his back with exhaustion. He’s breathing unnecessarily heavily, so much so that you would probably be worried if it was anyone other than Ezra. Sure, it’s hot outside, but not enough to entail that. So dramatic. 
“Ez, what the fuck are you doing?” 
His head snaps up this time, like he’s surprised to see you there. That’s when you notice that he has one hand down his pants. 
“Ez!” you gape. “Serously, what the fuck?”
“Sorry, little dove,” he pants, not caring to stop the jerking motions. “I thought I was strong enough to resist the temptation, but alas…” 
“Dude, we had like an hour left, you couldn’t have waited?” 
He just licks his lips in answer. “Well, now that you’re in here, you may as well strip and join me.” 
You sigh and plant your hands on your hips. He can be so damn unserious sometimes. He’s lucky he’s hot as hell despite everything else. 
“Fine,” you grumble and reach to unbutton your pants. You can’t really deny the way your panties started to grow wet the second you realized what he was up to. 
He watches you with a heavy gaze as you discard your clothes to the floor and walk toward him. He’s done the same, pulled all of his clothes off so that you’re both naked as he grabs you to lay you on the cot. You catch a peek of his stiff cock, already leaking and flushed from his playing. 
He immediately settles over you and flashes you a smirk as his hand trails down to cup your mound. You moan when he collects some of your slick and then starts to circle your clit, your arms coming up to wrap around him. 
“I know, flower. Feels good, doesn’t it?” 
You nod at him, burrowing your head in his chest as he works your clit. Your body begins to tremble and tense in anticipation, toes curling into the sheets below you. 
You claw at his back as you come, moaning as he works you through it. He doesn’t let up when you’re done though, instead inserting two fingers into your soaked cunt. You gasp at the feeling and clench around him.
He starts to pump, watching your face as it contorts with pleasure every time he hooks his fingers to find the spot that makes you crazy. 
“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” 
“Mhm,” you whine, trying your best to focus on the glide of his thick fingers and the way his thumb comes up to flick your swollen clit. You know it’s not going to be long before your second orgasm takes over. 
He suddenly starts to go faster, using his whole arm to finger you at a furious pace, his hand turning so that his palm slaps your clit with each bruising thrust. You gasp and clutch onto him, moans spilling freely from your lips. He starts to mix another movement in, too, shoving his hand up and down and side to side in addition to deep and fucking deeper.
His name is on your lips as you come, an explosion going through your body and making you go weak. Your thighs shake and your ears ring with the force of it all. He doesn’t even slow as you go through it, just whispers filthy praise into your ear as he pulls more and more until there’s a third orgasm meshing with the other two. He slips another finger in and uses his other hand to press on your abdomen. 
You’re practically screaming at this point, your body writing beneath him as it tries to escape the constant pressure he keeps on your cunt. It’s so overwhelming and you’re already so overstimulated. Your body is covered in sweat, as is his from his rough movement. 
“Take my fingers so good, little bird. Almost as good as you take my cock” 
You keen up to him, your back arching as you look into his eyes and plead for him to stop that way since your words aren’t going to work any time soon. He smiles faintly and takes pity on you, slowly retracting his fingers. A squelching sound comes from where he disconnects, an obscene amount of wetness seeping out of your cunt. 
“Look at her, she’s so hungry for it,” Ezra observes as he watches your hole clench. 
You just pant, feeling thoroughly exhausted already. But you know you’re not done yet. Ezra hasn’t come, and there’s no stopping until he does. You’re about to offer to suck him off to save your poor, throbbing pussy when he speaks again. 
“Go get one of your toys, little dove. Let’s make this even better.” 
You nod at him, sliding out from under his body in a haze. Despite being so over-sensitive already, you trust him to make it good for you. You walk to your trunk and pull it open, digging around for a moment until you get a grasp on your favorite wand. It’s battery powered and relatively strong. 
Ezra cranes his neck to see what you selected and smiles as you turn around with it. 
“Good choice, little dove. I like that one, too.” 
Then his face lights up in a way that makes you want to bury the vibrator back where you found it. His eyes darken as he reaches his hand out for the toy. Maybe it’s the way your brain has already turned to mush, but you still hand it to him and obey him as he helps you back down. 
“On your back and spread those pretty legs, little flower.”
You do so, but not without questioning him as he starts to dig through his own trunk. “Wha–” 
“Don’t worry, dove. Just lay there and look pretty for me.” 
You lay your head back down on the cot, figuring you might as well save your energy for whatever the hell he’s about to do. You know well enough that when he gets into these moods, there’s no changing his mind. 
But you quickly snap your head back up when you hear a tearing sound. 
“Ez?” 
He looks away from the roll of tape in his hands to see your confused face. 
“Yes, bird?” 
“W-What are you doing?” 
He just grins and walks back to you, ripping the tape further from the roll.
“Legs open,” he instructs, completely ignoring your question. Your eyes widen in realization as he kneels between them and brings your wand up to the inside of your thigh, the tip of it facing your soaked pussy. He pushes your legs open until they start to tremble again from the stretch. 
“Ez…” 
He ignores you again as he keeps the toy lined up and then starts to secure it with the tape. It’s close enough so that if you closed your legs even the slightest bit, the tip would be right on your clit. Your cunt throbs at the idea. And when he reaches up to tie your hands together and leave you defenseless, you let out a moan. 
“Dirty little thing,” Ezra chuckles. “Knew you’d like this.” 
He lowers himself back down and lets your legs lay comfortably without his hips holding them open, the ball of the vibrator resting against your clit. You shiver at the contact, goosebumps popping up in anticipation. 
He watches your face carefully as he reaches for it and presses a button to turn it on. Your entire body jolts at the constant pressure that immediately starts to hit your clit. You whine loudly, squirming and trying to get away from the harsh vibrations. 
“Ez!” you squeal. “‘S too much!” 
“Aw, I think you can take it, little gem. Look at your sweet cunt, already crying for more,” he coos at you, doing nothing to stop it. 
You shake your head wildly as your orgasm starts to build. It’s borderline painful, your body still wiggling and trying everything it can to escape, but you’re trapped. Every time you move your legs to get away, you just press down harder on your clit. You yelp and writhe, even knowing that you’re going to get nowhere that way. 
You’re coming in no time, screaming as the vibrator stays on through the whole thing. Ezra just chuckles to himself as you whine and shake, your brain turning to mush as your ears ring. Everything feels like too much right now. Not just the vibrations between your legs, but also the light coming from the single bulb in the tent, the way the sheets beneath you cling to your sweaty skin, the way the tape around your wrists feels a little too hot. 
You feel for a second like you might pass out, the toy still going even after your orgasm subsides. But then Ezra must turn it off because you’re suddenly coming back down to earth, your panting breaths loud in your own ears. Your entire body sags with relief. 
You barely even register it as Ezra takes his spot back between your thighs, keeping you open for him with his thick waist as he starts to feed his throbbing cock into your soaked cunt. He groans above you as he practically slips right in without any kind of resistance. You moan sharply, your hands fisting air above your head as you take him. 
“Such a good gem,” Ezra whispers to you once he’s fully seated. You can’t even say anything back at this point, far too wrung out to think coherently, much less actually speak. You just  lay there, letting him slowly start thrusting into you. 
You close your eyes, content to just let him find his end. And then you fucking scream again. Everything goes white and your body jolts as he slams hard into you and turns the toy back on at the same time. Tears immediately jump to your eyes as he picks up a brutal pace and holds your thigh at just the perfect spot for that stupid vibrator to have the biggest effect. 
You openly sob as you come again, completely taken by surprise this time. Ezra groans louder, gripping you hard as he pummels his cock into your g-spot. Your tears stream down your cheeks and down your neck, into your hairline, into your ears. 
“Sweet little cunt you have, birdy. Squeezing me so tight.” 
You try to call his name, but it just comes out garbled and pathetic. You’ve never felt this overstimulated in your life, like you’re unable to really comprehend it all. 
“I know, darling thing. You’ll be okay,” he assures you as he puts a hand up to smooth down your sweat-dampened hair.
Finally, his pace starts to stutter and his groans grow louder and more uncontrolled. You’re lost in another wave of painful pleasure when he spills deep inside of you, twitching and making you cry out. He thrusts shallowly, not worried about anything but drawing his own orgasm out. 
“There you go, take it all for me. Just like that.” He leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 
He doesn’t wait long after until he turns the vibrator off again, and this time you really do find that you can’t open your eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever been this exhausted in your life. Your cunt throbs and aches, your head pounds, and your body feels like it was hit by a truck as it shakes and trembles, numb in some places. You’re disoriented, not entirely sure where you are or how you got there. 
You just know that you’re soaked all over and in desperate need of sleep. It comes easy with the help of Ezra’s hand petting your hair and his soft chuckle coming from somewhere around you. You don’t bother to try opening your eyes again, you know that he’ll take care of you as long as he’s around. 
*****
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