#EVERYONE GO READ THIS FIC RIGHT NOW

[fishfingersandscarves]

A playlist and some art i made for @moorishflower 's new fic Beautiful, Strange, and New is out and the first chapter is up!!! It's a beautiful beautiful longfic that I highly endorse and everyone better read it!!!!!

[quibvsposts]

‘you fought well, Atreides’

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[vryfmi]

[id: three grey-scale digital drawings of characters from Lockwood and Co books set in a modern coffee shop setting.

Lucy sits on a couch in a dark room, she looks at her phone puzzled. right side of the picture is divided horizontally into three frames: a close up of the phone with a cut off discord missed call notifications; Lucy looking annoyed and putting her phone aside; a cup with a teabag in it on the floor.

Lockwood is leaning on the barista counter from customer side, he's saying something with a smile, speech bubble has emojis of calendar and question mark. he looks at Lucy, who's turned away from viewer as she's making coffee. from her apron's front pocket comes a speech bubble with emojis of vibrating phone, skull, exclamation and question marks.

a view on coffee shop from behind front windows. from barista counter Holly leans towards Lockwood, who's standing near by with his brew, she says something to him in secretive manner. on the foreground, leaning back on the window Lucy is talking on a phone. she is cut off at the edge of the picture but there is a visible smile and a tiny blush on her face. there are two speech bubbles: from skull it has internet and handshake emojis, from Lucy: handshake and a question mark./end id]

@czenzo's modern au featuring skullyle bickering (flirting) in broad daylight. scenes from Missed Call on AO3, this fic has been eating my brain away no end

[pocketramblr]

The two most confusing moments of Izuku's life

@gentrychild thank you so much for everything you gave us in RAADSC

[sculkshrieking]

“Oleander represents the fickle and complicated nature of love, desire, and caution. And you, little bird, have not been very cautious, now have you? Giving your heart away so readily.”

Fanart for pull me from the earth by @scarabies-real <3

[luna-loveboop]

Legend sick fics you say 👀

Well I don’t think I remember too many sick fics off the top of my head but weathered and wavering by Quirkle is very good.

Once you have a collection please do share with the class 🫶

Hehe yeah. Here is the original post about Legend sick fics. I got a lot of recommendations in the replies and reblogs that are so cool- seriously I read a ton of them and you guys are so awesome (/gen)

@uniquevoidflowers wrote this fic for me which is amazing of course- it has some of the coolest imagery with a flower thermometer which makes me very happy

Pretty much all of @skyward-floored 's sick fics are awesome, including this legend one that was instantly recommended to me by quite a lot of people lol (since it was posted very recently) (go read it)

Fill the cracks with gold by @sister-dear was so fun to read, it might be one of my favourites for Four

I loved Hiding behind plaster and ceramics by @occasionallyprosie -it had a lot of takes I hadn't seen before and was also very good writing

@arecaceae175 recommended down, a nine chapter sickfic that is really good, I loved reading it.

There's a lot of other ones, and most of them are in the notes of the post I made:

@the-au-collector made this reblog with a ton of good recommendations, and @hero-of-the-wolf reblogged with one I liked. Idk if the links can work like that but we'll find out

And my wisdom tooth surgery went well :D I've stayed off the internet for a bit of recovery. I'm good I'm just not doing too much interacting when I'm tired *shrug*. I was scared because my health is always so bad but it was ok. :))) I have definitely spent a lot of time reading- I knew it was a good idea to ask for sick fics for surgery week XD

So that's the lovely list of sick fics I've been reading- for when you get your wisdom teeth out. Or you're not feeling well, or you just feel like reading. Anyways.

Also my mind is still pretty tired right now but I wanted to answer this- I hope it's ok for everyone I tagged, and my phrasing and language isn't good right now, sorry. Love you guys /plat <333

[best-enemies]

The Deca itself amazes me, but its fandom is on a whole other level. We have one canon source material (and a few other mentions scattered throughout the Whoniverse), but the fans have managed to tinker with it so much that fanon is actually more popular than canon and more wildly accepted. And I love y'all for it

[elkaseltzer]

"Was Jacques-Louis David in Hell? Could he be commissioned to paint 'The Death of the Radio Demon' in place of Marat?"

maybe he cant BUT I CAN!!!!!!!!!

jk this is a gift not a com

based off of part 8 of We Should've Been Enemies by @soot-and-salt

[reinedeslys-central]

"I think you should totally get in the back of my truck, actually," Leo says, linking pinkies with Jason. "What's the line? 'I can show you the world'?"

Jason stares down at where their fingers are curled together, peach on olive. He can't stop looking. "You don't have a truck."

Leo groans. "That was one time. I promise this one's legal. See?" He gently untangles their hands and slips behind the blue Chevy, returning with a slip of wrinkled paper that he triumphantly shoves in Jason's face.

LEO, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU BREAK MY CAR WHILE I'M IN IOWA I WILL HAUNT YOU TO THE END OF TIME.

Your loving cousin, Nyssa (P.S. You can take your boy for a ride. I'll allow it. There's blankets in the back (and please help yourself to the glovebox). Don't tell me.)

Jason's eyes travel down the sparkly purple pen, catching on the note at the bottom before flickering back up. There's something that aches in his chest at the words 'your boy'.

He's not sure what expression takes over his face, but Leo, for his part, sees him and immediately ducks his head down so he can read the paper too, frowning. Jason follows his eyes down to the same line as they widen and Leo turns a raging, glorious red before hastily re-crumpling the note and sticking it into one of the many pockets of his cargo pants.

He clears his throat awkwardly while inspecting the dying grass at their feet. It looks like it could be good grass if it ever rains again this month, nice and long and thick.

..Yeah, nevermind.

He takes his glasses off and cleans them in an attempt to - what, exactly? It's not like he's got the object permanence of a toddler. It's not like looking away will stop him from thinking about red-hot blushes and bouncing curls and sharp smiles and -

Leo claps once, calling Jason's attention back up to him and the pretty blush staining his freckled nose. He looks just as awkward, laughing bashfully.

"Well, that's just Nyssa. Uh, she probably wouldn't actually haunt me, she doesn't believe in ghosts - not, I mean, if you do -" his words trip over each other, diverting the original innuendo that was definitely just meant to tease Leo since Jason's never even met her, not to mention he's not his, finally ending with - "but as you can see, it's clearly perfectly legal. So."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt that." Leo groans. "Oh, come on, dude, live a little, why dontcha?" He sidles up to him again, draping a warm arm over his shoulders and drawing him over to the car doors. "I know, you know, your dad's in California, your mom's in Paris, and your sister's at a party."

Jason opens his mouth to protest again and -

"- and before you say that you have homework," Leo scoffs, "allow me to remind you that we did our homework together yesterday, and you're already done your math homework for tomorrow, because you're a nerd."

Jason closes his mouth. "It's a school night," he offers weakly.

"Yeah, and every minute you have us waste out here is another minute we're not in the car, ergo another minute we're wasting, on a school night." Leo steps around him and holds his hands out again, eventually latching on to Jason's wrists and tugging him closer so he can peer into his eyes.

Jason may or may not forget how to breathe.

"Are you tired? You don't look tired," Leo frowns. "If you really don't want to go, I won't force you, y'know."

Jason forces his lungs to expand, contract, expand, so he can blurt out, "No, I mean, you got me. I'll go."

Leo grins as bright as the setting sun and twists around, whooping. He not-so-gently pushes Jason towards the car door before jogging over to hop into the driver's seat.

It takes a while, once they're actually on the road and leaving their neighbourhoods behind, that Jason finally goes, "You know, I'm just as concerned with how legal this is as I am with the fact that you still haven't told me where we're going."

Leo glares at him through the mirror. "Hey, if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

Jason hates surprises. "For all I know, you just kidnapped me for a surprise road trip to Toronto, and I didn't even pack my toothbrush."

Laughter bubbles out of the boy sitting at the wheel, quickly escalating into a full guffaw. "You're funny," Leo gasps, wiping away tears at a red light. "How did I not notice that you're funny?"

Jason's definitely never been told that he's funny. He might joke, sure, but being 'funny' is reserved for people like Percy, people like Leo or Cecil, who carry humour on them like sugar on a pastry, baked into their laughs and sprinkled over top with how clever they are.

No matter how hard Jason's tried, he's never been very clever.

Leo's still laughing, now more of a soft giggle as he pulls into the left lane to make a turn. He tries not to let it affect him.

"You should joke more often, dude. Bet all the girls would love that."

Jason looks outside at the trees and farms they're passing. Judging by the position of the sun, they're heading pretty much due south. There's nothing down south for them to be doing, though, especially not this late at night.

Skinny dipping, maybe. He wouldn't put it past Leo to suggest something like that and actually go through with it. But dragging him along? They barely know each other. What's a couple months on all the other people he knows?

"You wanna turn the radio on?" Leo says. Jason looks over to see him watching him with an odd smile. "Shotgun's choice, right? Don't worry, I won't judge. Even though I bet you listen to those 24-hour 'nature recordings' for fun and don't know what real music sounds like."

Jason rolls his eyes and plays with the dial until the 106.1 comes on. Leo groans. "Seriously? They keep playing, like, the same six artists over and over. Sure, Top 40's fine, but show a little variety, you know?"

He shrugs. It's like Leo said - he doesn't really know radio stations. His dad - when he deigns to drive the family places - is much more of a silence-of-doom, or failing that, an ominous-car-conversations person. "You put something on, then, if you're so set on it." He replies.

The warm light from the street plays over Leo's knuckles as he switches the wheel to one hand, blindly flailing the other one towards Jason until he hits the box behind the gear shift. "Pick a CD from here, whatever's fine. Eh, maybe not the Chopin or Metallica though. Might shift the vibe a bit too much."

Obligingly, Jason tugs at the black, faux-leather box until it comes open with a muffled thunk. Inside is a stack of CDs, spanning everything from Katy Perry to Vivaldi to Iron Maiden to Monsta X.

"Your cousin's got quite the music taste," he tosses out, rifling through the stack while giving periodic glances out the window to make sure they're not, like, five seconds away from a crash or something.

If there was anything Beryl Grace taught her kids, it was how to be a responsible passenger.

Almost on autopilot, Jason digs the pink-purple Teenage Dream CD out of the pile and then has to hastily shove the polaroids that spill out from underneath it back between the surrounding paper disc-sleeves (Mamma Mia!, he sees, and ..Heng:garæ? Whatever that means). That can't be safe for the discs, especially in a moving card, but then again who is he to judge. He doesn't even own any CDs.

They've fully left the town behind now, sailing down the open road with nothing but trees, farms, and the occasional streetlight in sight. He leans over and pops the disc into the CD drive, wondering again for the hundredth time where Leo's taking him.

Leo rolls to a stop at a four-way and watches him skip over the first two songs. "Whadya choose?"

Jason smiles. "Is now a good time to tell you I was born in Pasadena?"

The open bars of 'California Gurls' start to play, and Leo's warm, penny-brown eyes widen before he laughs, bright and a touch wild, incredulous.

It's weird. It's so weird. Maybe this is what his father meant when he said not to get any weird ideas in his head so close to finally reaching the decade-long goal of an Ivy League school. Maybe this is what his mother meant when she'd chastised him, saying hormonal teenagers got more impulsive with puberty and he should take care to keep listening to his parents, lest he lose everything he's worked so hard for.

If anyone else had tried this, he thinks, he wouldn't have said yes. He would have stayed at home, studied ahead for bond enthalpy and subjunctive Spanish, made tomorrow's lunch and cleaned his room. Adhering to routine. Acting - being normal.

You have to be normal, Jason. That's how they love you.

I will not tolerate an abnormal son.

Oh, Jason, it's like you just don't understand. What will people say? About you? About our family?

Leo isn't normal. Or maybe he is. Normal doesn't exist, when he's with Leo. He likes that about him.

He takes a risk and rolls the window down halfway so he can lean his head out and watch the sky, crisp wind tousling his hair. Leo smirks at him and switches the wheel to his right hand so he can roll his window down to match.

"Ten minutes," he says. "Look alive, buddy."

"There must be something in the water", Katy Perry croons.

also from 'burning like a glowing star', this valgrace fic I'm writing.

more stuff: Writing Directory

[zerimagi]

'"Mist." The calming, rumbling voice belongs to Mordecai — Mist turns her head and finds him sitting not far away, watching the match. He pats the ground next to him. "Will you sit and watch?"'

my piece for @telliusbigbang! please check out rk's fic its an absolute delight for the mist/jillmist enthusiasts :3

[spoonsbutbetter]

Chapters: 2/6 Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Eloise Bridgerton/Cressida Cowper Characters: Cressida Cowper, Eloise Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Bridgerton Family (Bridgerton) Additional Tags: WOMEN!!, i love when girl best friends kiss and love each other, Girls Kissing, women love women and that's all i'll say on the matter, this might become plotless, 5+1 Things, Lesbian Cressida Cowper, demisexual eloise bridgerton, biromantic eloise bridgerton Summary:

Eloise loves calling on Cressida as a friendly joke, but there is always some sort of honesty in every joke, and sometimes it takes a little bit to realize where the truth lies.

(Or Five Times Eloise Calls on Cressida and They Realize Something New About Each Other + 1 Time Eloise Calls On Her For Real)

I was absolutely in a chokehold over Eloise and Cressida using courting language for each other and I created this

Disclaimer: this will definitely NOT follow canon, I just want these guys to kiss a bunch lol (I want them to kiss a bunch because I am projecting me and my girlfriend onto them lowkey)

[samspenandsword]

Midnight: Boba Fett/Reader (fem)

Summary: You decide to be a brat. Boba decides to handle you a little differently than normal. Pairing: Boba Fett/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance (reader has hair long enough to grab). Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; unprotected PIV sex (PRACTICE SAFE SEX), fingering, dom/sub dynamics (brat tamer!Boba, brat!reader), implied age gap, Boba's a bit of a meanie, also he's slightly possessive and toxic, mentions of oral sex, hint of anal play, overstimulation, forced orgasms, cum play, degradation kink, praise kink, bit of a pain kink, hickies, icky mushy-gushiness at the very end, language. Word Count: 4.0k

I had to open my big, bratty mouth, you thought.

Or, at least, you would've thought had you actually been capable of any thought beyond the thick fingers currently buried in that greedy little hole you called a pussy.

He'd been tormenting you for what felt like hours now, massaging your walls with warmth and tenderness belying the dirty words coming from his mouth. He'd called this a punishment. A lesson. One he was going to make sure you never forgot. You hadn't believed him, firing back with a bratty little snip that had simply made him smile. A smile of amusement, coupled with a casual, rumbling chuckle. It had made you a little unsure, but not to the point of backing down. You never backed down unless he made you.

And oh, he was good at making you.

He loved wrestling the submission out of you. Bringing forth the needy, whining, begging mess of a woman you became when he got his hands on you. There were nights he didn't need to fight for it. Nights where the two of you simply enjoyed each other's company and the warmth of your relationship.

But some nights, like tonight, got you in a certain type of mood. A demanding, defiant mood that got his blood racing as much as it did yours. A mood that conveyed the need to play, to fight, to be taught and forced to learn your place.

He was happy to remind you.

Happy to remind you why he was the only one you trusted to bring you this sort of pleasure. Usually, it came in the form of edging you until you were literally crying for release. In the form of you bent double over his throne, his cock buried in your pussy and pounding away with little regard for your own pleasure. In the form of pushing your head down on his length until it was pulsing in your throat and spit spilled past your lips and your jaw ached. In the form of leaving bruises that matched the plates of his armor. In the form of wrecking you, ruining you for anyone but him.

And you loved it. Reveled in it.

So when Boba had responded to your brattiness with a simple smile and chuckle, it threw you. You recovered quickly, however. You refused to let your sudden nerves show. Instead, you'd lifted your chin, eyebrows raised into a challenge, and arms crossed under your breasts, pushing them up ever-so-slightly. Just enough to tease him.

It had simply earned you another chuckle, him seeing right through you.

You'd scoffed in response.

"Might as well get myself off, the pace you're going."

Boba had raised his eyebrows, eyes shining with humor.

"Princess, don't give me any ideas."

You'd scoffed again.

"Yeah, well, let me know when you decide. I'll have gotten myself off three times by that time, I'm sure. The time you're taking, you might be ready by midnight, old man."

There it was. His eyes lit up and took on a certain light. A twinkle that indicated Boba had taken something you'd said as a personal challenge. A twinkle that was accompanied by a dangerous cock of his eyebrow and a smirk on his lips.

The look set fire to your veins.

"Only three times?"

Your heart and pussy had jumped. It took all you had to not clench your thighs. Instead, you had yawned, making a show of checking the chrono on your bedside table.

Boba had chuckled again.

"You really haven't shown me you deserve to get off tonight, princess. I'm feeling inclined to punish you. But I think this is a good time to reteach you something. Something you've evidently forgotten. So consider this a punishment, and a lesson. And I expect you to tell me what you learned when we're through."

His hand had gone to your thigh, and he'd chuckled more darkly than before at the way you jumped at his touch. Your entire body was lit alight with it, just as always. Just like it always would. No one had ever ignited you with a single, small touch alone the way Boba could. But his hand on your thigh was also your last warning. A chance to call this off before it got started.

Anything beyond this, you knew the safeword.

There was a pause, his hand resting on your thigh, calloused fingers softly stroking the skin there. You'd met his eyes, and gave a third scoff.

Now, here you were. And though you'd originally scoffed at the idea of Boba's so-called "punishment," especially because it hadn't been in the style of his usual punishments, you now found yourself prone on your bed, your fourth orgasm rippling out of you, making your entire body shake and tremble, and you were starting to think you'd maybe bitten off more than you could chew.

Maybe.

The sheets beneath you were soaked, and your skin was tacky with sweat and cum. Your toes were beginning to cramp from how hard they'd curled with this last climax, and it wasn't even on your radar. There was nothing on your radar other than Boba's fingers in your cunt, making you feel both stuffed to the brim, and empty because fuck, it wasn't his cock!

Nothing was like his cock.

"Good job," Boba said, practically whispered. He had you reclined back against his broad, warm chest, letting you tuck your face and sob into his neck each time you came. You felt Boba's breath wash over your skin. and his lips brush against your crown. "There you go, princess."

You gasped, chest heaving as you came down, body trembling still. You whimpered a little as Boba continued to massage your walls, his fingers no longer pumping, but now crooking inside you.

"Just had to provoke me," he continued, breath warm against your cheek. He leaned down to kiss it. "Bratty little princess just wanted some attention. Wanted to get a reaction out of me. Wanted me to fuck you like the greedy little whore you are."

"M'not greedy!" you mustered, raising your head up to scowl petulantly at him.

Boba laughed a little at this, his free hand reaching up to smooth back the hair sweat-slicked to your forehead.

"Oh, really? Then why have you just cum on my fingers four times?"

Your scowl morphed into a pout, the expression promptly ruined as he rubbed the most sensitive spot inside you, a place he had yet to touch you tonight. It was both a mindless and intentional move and you involuntarily clenched and gushed around him. It made his smug grin broaden. He looked younger when he smiled like that.

"Not my — my fault! You have 'em t'me!"

Boba's expression fell into a wicked smirk. "There it is," he rasped. His fingers began to pump again, slowly. "Now, tell me what you learned, princess."

You knew the answer he was looking for. You decided not to give it to him.

"T-to provoke you when I w-want a series of m-mediocre orgasms."

Boba's fingers paused for just a second with genuine shock, then started up again, harsher than before.

"Mmm." The way he looked down at you now was positively dangerous. The set of his brows with concentration coupled with the serious line of his mouth. Boba pressed his forehead to yours as he abruptly shoved a third finger into your cunt, making you squeal and arch. The press of his forehead to yours however was unforgiving, and with it and his dark gaze pinning you in place, you found yourself helpless to do anything but lie there and take it as he shoved his fingers into your cunt at a brutal pace.

"And I'm going to give you another one," Boba said. Your body shivered with overstimulation as much as it did at the dark tone in his voice. It promised something. Promised you weren't ever going to forget this. "You know why, princess?"

You weren't able to answer anymore, your voice reduced to a pathetic whine as his thick fingers jerked harshly in and out of you, rubbing over your g-spot with every furious pass. The sound of his fingers in your cunt was positively obscene, and honestly you couldn't tell where your mewls began and the high-pitched squelching of your pussy ended.

Boba smiled darkly down at you, his little fucked out princess, and chuckled darkly to accompany the grin. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours again, forcing your gaze to his unforgivingly. He could see you trying so hard to maintain eye contact, like you knew he liked. But you could barely keep your eyes open as he shoved his fingers in you and simultaneously shoved you toward another orgasm. You were so cute when you got like this, with tears of overstimulation pricking in your eyes, your hair messy from his hands and your sweat, your body heaving with every touch he gave you, your nipples so pert they were just begging to be bitten, your thighs trembling and toes curled, his hand literally soaked with your juices.

Boba wanted to see you like this every single day. And Maker knew this sight was for him only.

Anyone else came near you, he'd kill them.

"You know why, princess," he repeated. This time, it wasn't phrased as a question, but as a dark little reassurance. Because he knew, and so did you, that he was the only one capable of giving you this sort of pleasure. Of reducing you to this whining, mewling mess. Of wrangling you into submission in the way you loved. In the way he loved to.

It was him. Only him.

And Maker, he knew it.

So did you. And while part of you wanted to hold out longer, continue to shake your head and stomp your feet and pout your bitten lips, you could barely take it anymore. Your mind felt as fucked out as your body. Your pussy lips were swollen around Boba's fingers, and your thighs felt like jelly. The tightening in your gut was near-painful, and the brutal pumping of his fingers was hurtling you towards another edge. You fell off of it faster than you expected. You hadn't even realized how close you were, but you felt your body suddenly seize and arch as Boba unceremoniously tossed you off a fifth cliff.

You were crying, tears falling down your flushed cheeks as your body shook. And right as your pussy began to clamp down like a vice, Boba ripped his fingers from you, leaving your pussy agonizingly empty and fluttering around nothing.

And for someone who'd cum five times, you were singularly frustrated with that.

But your mind could hardly string together two words that weren't "Boba" and "more," let alone the ability to convey that. But nevertheless, Boba seemed to know, cooing down at you as you came down. Stroking your skin soothingly with soaked fingers, trailing your own arousal from your naval to your nipples.

You whined more when he pressed down on one just enough for you to notice.

"You know why, princess." It was said a third time, a smug reassurance this time.

You nodded almost mindlessly, and Boba's hand came up to cradle your throat. There was no pressure in his grip, but it still made your breath hitch. He chuckled again. Five orgasms and his little brat still couldn't get enough.

Maker, you were perfect.

Boba leaned down and kissed your cheek, sweetly.

You were doing so well. And despite your bratty attitude, you were spoiling him rotten, giving him five beautiful climaxes. Trusting him in this way. Letting him give you more.

And he would. He knew you. You would take whatever he gave you.

You always did.

"What have we learned, princess?" Boba rumbled, kissing your ear as his voice made you shiver.

He could see you struggling to string words together, your fucked out little mind scrambling to obey him. It humored him, seeing you try, cause he knew just how much he affected you.

"Use your words," he murmured, half-encouragingly, half-demeaningly.

You didn't even pout you were so focused on obeying him. Boba quietly hummed with amusement, seeing your mouth open. You didn't say anything right away, and the sight of you with your mouth open like that brought forth images of his cock on your tongue.

Boba shook the images away. Later, if you started behaving.

"Boba," you managed to get out, gasping around his name like it was the only word you knew. And indeed, right now, you felt as if his name were just dominating your every thought. Boba always just dominated your mind, your senses, your everything. He was everything.

"Yes, princess?" He wasn't budging, forcing you to continue scrambling for words in your post-orgasmic and overstimulated haze. His lips were curled with amusement as he watched you struggle. You would've scowled petulantly at him if you had the energy for it.

As it were, the only thing you wanted to do at that moment, was ask for more.

So you did.

You reached up, arm hooking over his shoulder and face turning back into his neck. He let you, the hand cupping your throat now stroking along your collar. His fingers were sticky still with your cum.

"Boba, more."

"More?" He chuckled out. "You've cum five times and it's still not enough for you?"

Your breath was still heavy as you came down from said five orgasms. And your entire body was tingling and numb and exhausted, and yet, it wasn't enough. Because —

"Never enough," you mumbled into his skin. "N'ver enough with you, Boba."

Inside him, Boba felt his heart warm at your fucked-out, but achingly honest words. And the sentiment was wholeheartedly returned. But on the outside, all he did was smirk down at you, gently fisting his hand in the hair at your nape and forcing your face from his neck. He looked down at you, stare pinning you in place.

"And why is that, little one?"

Your mind worked to find a way around this. But honestly, you couldn't. With his heavy stare and just-as-heavy hand keeping you in place, eyes locked on his, there was nowhere left to hide. No bratty little quip your mind could conjure. Nothing but Boba.

And well, he was everything.

"Cause... cause no one makes me feel like you, Boba. Makes me cum like you."

And there it was. The lesson Boba had been trying to finger into you for the last... however long it had been. You weren't sure. But as soon as the words had left your mouth, Boba smiled at you, condescendingly proud.

"That's right," he said, smug. You'd be mad about it if you had the wherewithal to be anything but unspeakably fucked out. "No one can fuck you like this, princess. No one. No one can make your legs shake when he eats you. No one else can stuff that bratty little mouth the way I can. No one else has claimed this ass." Boba's free hand suddenly snaked past your puffy and sticky pussy lips, touching firmly to the ringed muscle of your second hole. It made you jerk in his grasp, and he chuckled darkly once more. "No one else can make you cum from simply sucking cock. No one else has fucked this little pussy and molded it to their cock. Just me, princess. You're ruined. Ruined for anyone else. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

As if you could. You knew you were ruined. And Maker, you were so happy about it. Boba was all you wanted. All you would ever want.

And his filthy words, and the knowledge that he wanted you too was almost enough to make you cum again.

"Think you're ready for my cock now, princess," Boba rumbled flippantly. As if you weren't always ready for his cock. He slipped out from beside you, making you wine at the loss of contact. But Boba hushed you amusedly, hand trailing down your side to your thigh. He hooked his hand behind it, spreading you as he kneeled over you.

His cock, girthy and big enough to make you gasp even with prep, looked painfully hard. Boba had been ignoring it as best he could, but even he was reaching his limit. Precum beaded at the tip, and he smeared it onto your clit teasingly. You mewled cutely beneath him.

"Doing so well for me," Boba murmured. His eyes lightened with genuine affection. A light you rarely saw anywhere but during your time together. It made your own haze clear, and you knew he was checking in with you. He said your name. "Ready for me?"

You smiled, wiggling your hips against his cock and hooking your thigh over his hip.

"Ready," you confirmed. Boba smiled, big and bright. It made him look so much younger when he smiled that way. He dipped down, and just as he kissed you, he thrust forward, impaling you on his cock.

Boba swallowed your gasp with a small laugh, kissing you breathless. He wanted a moment, letting your body adjust. But Boba needed a minute, too. As much as he said he'd ruined you for anyone else, you'd ruined him just as thoroughly. He was dangerously close to the edge even without the preceding scene. You always made him lose his composure, made him feel like a young man again. Like he'd blow in his pants just by watching your hips sway as you walked away.

Boba grasped those hips, yanking you down the rest of the way onto his cock when he felt you relax. It made you squeal and giggle, and he chuckled into the skin of your collar before taking it between his teeth.

You gasped and clenched around him.

"Boba," you moaned.

"Patience, princess."

You were trying, honest, but you didn't exactly have much patience when it came to him.

But if you hadn't forced yourself to still, Boba's hands would. But you tried to relax your hips and core, letting yourself sink a little further into the mattress and sheets.

As soon as you did, Boba began to move, punching the breath right out of you with every thrust. The mattress was the only thing keeping you grounded as Boba, in the way only he could, fucked you within an inch of your life.

Boba's lips curled and teeth clenched with the effort of keeping himself from exploding right then and there. Your expression was going to be the end of him if your cunt wasn't. With those hooded, glazed eyes and half-open mouth, flushed cheeks, just-had-mind-blowing-sex hair, arched neck leading all the way down to a pair of glorious, heaving tits. There was a bead of sweat rolling down in the valley between them, and Boba couldn't help but lean over and lick it up.

You scrabbled for purchase of his broad shoulders as Boba leaned down and began to bite and suck on your nipples. Boba was a self-declared ass and thighs man, but Maker when he paid attention to your tits he could be just as thorough and appreciative. You couldn't help but arch up into him, pressing your breasts further into his mouth. He chuckled around your nipple before switching to the other. And all the while, he never stopped thrusting, cock practically molding your pussy to its shape.

After a few more thrusts, you could barely string a thought together anymore, and all that came out of you were little moans and whines as Boba fucked you. Your thigh fell from his hip as your body was wracked with overstimulated bliss, your body hardly able to keep up with all it had endured. Your hands gripped at his back, nails digging in and making Boba grunt with pleasure. He loved when you left your mark on him.

Almost as much as he loved leaving his mark on you.

Boba's mouth shifted to your collar, where his teeth and lips left red marks that would bloom purple by morning. You gasped with each new one. You grew closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling to keep up.

"B-Boba..." you breathed as your core tightened, painfully.

"Come on, princess. Give me one more."

You weren't sure you could, tears pricking in your eyes as your raw cunt fluttered and pulled.

Boba suddenly ripped out of you and before you realized it, you were flipped onto your front and Boba was back inside you, pumping so hard and fast you could feel him in your throat.

"Go on," he said, voice tight with his own restraint. You managed to clench around him, making him hiss. "One more. Give me one more."

Your cries of pleasure, pain, and overstimulation were surely bouncing off the walls, but all you could hear was Boba, and the way his cock forced your juices out to make room for itself. It was positively obscene.

And only helped bring you closer and closer.

Boba leaned forward, chest touching your back, the new angle devastating your cunt. You cried out, it turning into a strangled gasp as his hand came around once more to cup your throat.

"Cum."

You did.

Your orgasm ripped through you so hard your vision went white. You would register your sore throat later, sore from screaming out with pleasure. Your entire body seized with your climax, shaking and pussy fluttering so hard it was practically vibrating around Boba's cock, squeezing and squeezing down until Boba could barely move anymore. And with a yell, he came too.

You didn't realize you'd nearly passed out until you registered Boba saying your name, a soft, warm, damp towel being pressed to your skin.

"You did so well, princess." Boba dropped a kiss to your temple before climbing back into bed with you. You rolled into him, soaking up the warmth of him and appreciating the warmth of his release inside you. It began to glob out, smearing and combining with your own release, all over your thighs.

You pressed them together as you cuddled into him, reaching up to stroke your hand down Boba's neck.

"Tell me how you're feeling," Boba requested.

"Tired," came your automatic answer. Your voice was heavy and slightly hoarse with it. "Boneless. Fucked out."

The last two worked a quiet laugh from Boba.

"But good," you finished. You smiled up at him. "So good."

Boba smiled, achingly soft, and kissed you. "Ready for a bath?"

"Yes, please. And you better carry me, mister, I'm not going to be able to walk for days."

He smirked down at you. "You asked for it."

You giggled.

Boba helped you sit up. His eyes flicked over to the nightstand and his smirk widened.

"What?" you asked.

"It's midnight."

You slowly looked at the chrono, the red numbers indeed reading exactly midnight. And your earlier words rang in your mind.

Yeah, well, let me know when you decide. I'll have gotten myself off three times by that time, I'm sure. The time you're taking, you might be ready by midnight, old man.

"Three times by midnight, I believe you said." Boba carefully scooped you up, smiling way too smugly for comfort. "Pathetic."

You scowled playfully at him, cheeks flushing hot.

Seven. He'd made you cum seven fucking times.

"Don't let this go to your head, old man." You settled into his chest. "Your helmet won't fit."

He pinched you lightly as he set you down on the edge of the tub. You giggled as he began to run the bath, and his stern look might've been effective had his eyes not been twinkling.

"Spoiled little brat," he said, with nothing but fondness.

You preened and gave him a little tongue-in-teeth smile.

"You love it."

Boba laughed, and again, you couldn't help but admire his smile. How it instantly made him look younger. Not as burdened. Happier.

Boba helped ease you into the warm water before climbing in behind you. As he leaned you back on his chest, he whispered in your ear.

"I love you."

You sighed, happily.

"I love you, too, Boba."

And it was only because you loved him so much that you didn't punch him the next morning when you found that you were, indeed, having trouble walking.

Taglist and some known Boba hoes (just lmk if you want me to remove you): @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @thefact0rygirl @daimyosprincess @wild-karrde @ulchabhangorm @baba-fett @starstofillmydream @theroguesully @redheadgirl @nekotaetae @liadamerondjarin @urmomsmattress @ttzamara @cdblake1565 @blueink-bluesoul @marierg @banthasworld @sunshinesdaydream @kimiheartblade

Join my taglist here or just let me know!

[mistchievous]

Reminder that everyone should read this fic by @tripleaxeldiaz because it's amazing.

maybe one day i'll fly next to you • 36k

Bobby clears his throat, standing in front of the roll-away white board, and gets started. Buck’s half paying attention, letting his eyes wander over the small crowd of skaters. There’s one face, though, that he doesn’t see, and for a minute, he’s hopeful. He’s gone, he moved, he went to work with Rafael in Lakewood or something, so I’ll only have to see him maybe four times a year instead of every goddamn day thank god— The doors to the locker room burst open, and fuck. Because, nope, he’s still here. Windswept and out of breath and 15 minutes late, yet somehow still oozing confidence and jackassery. Eddie Diaz. Olympic Bronze Medalist. Two time reigning World Champion. And the absolute bane of Buck’s existence.

[sciderman]

I’m envious that so much of your life is dedicated to creating Spideypool content. 70% of my Spideypool time is reading fics or obsessing over fanart; only about 30% of my Spideypool time is actually spent writing my fics. And I haven’t actually finished enough of one of them to post anything. One day I hope I can change that ratio and spend much more time blessing the Spideypool fandom the way you do with your abundance of written and visual Spideypool work.

"im envious that so much of your life is dedicated to creating spideypool content" are words i never expected to ever hear in my lifetime... wild and freaky of you i think, you craaazy...

it's a trade-off because i consume so very little of it... but my tastes are very... singular... i think in a post-mcu world, it's become a lot trickier for me to find spideypool content i can enjoy, so i kind of have to furiously create it - and kind of all my favourite spideypool creators from that beautiful pre-mcu era have moved onto different pastures... where'd they go... oh i miss them so...

i certainly used to read a WHOLE lot more spideypool pre-homecoming, but since the homecoming-imposed hiatus, i've found it difficult to trust again...

[sculkshrieking]

fanart for "i am fed, but still i starve", a wonderfully written fanfic by @definitelynotshouting that hasn't left my mind since i first read it