#There was a lot of switching households

[cerubean]

semi-annual myers household post

[jellyloveru]

ough

[keeps-ache]

I AM SPEED

[thetiredstuff]

finally watching everything everywhere all at once and in the first few minutes of the movie, the lead character (haven't gotten her name yet but played by Yeoh) mixes up the pronouns "he" and "she" saying that in Chinese it's just one word. and it's funny cuz it reminds me of a class I took a few years back in uni. it also had some exchange students cuz it was a class in English and the course was about diversity and we were talking about the right pronouns etc. and at one point a I think a Fins student spoke up saying that they only have 1 pronoun regardless of someone's gender and that they struggled very hard with using the proper pronoun in English. just funny how the dialogue in the movie is so spot on

[explodingcrayon]

honest to god one of the most useful art lessons I ever received was by pure coincidence that I was sitting outside one day when a theater class joined the space and the teacher had them do exercises where they had to do different walk cycles by choosing a different part of their body to "lead" with and how that could influence their posture, rate of movement, attitude, etc. all to compose a unique character and like. yeah. To develop as any form of "creator" you really gotta dip into other forms of art and learn from them. You never know what lessons you'll be able to take to and from different experiences and skills

[screampied]

‘ CANDY BOY ! ’

ᡴꪫ sum. who would have thought that the #1 camboy in your city was no one other than your virgin roommate gojo, who’s totally putting on a show for his fangirls. he talks too much, but maybe you can shut his mouth and put his sweetened little fantasies to reality.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, camboy!gojo, college au, gojo's a virgin, switch! gojo, unprotected, dirty talk, he gets pússy drunk quick, overstim, "good boy" usage, cunnilıngus, premature ejaculating, nipple play, lots of spıt, handjōbs.

if someone would have told you that your loser of of a roommate who stuffs his mouth with a bit too many sweets, cries at romcoms, and is just an overall dork was a camboy, you’d call them crazy. batshit crazy even, yet that’s exactly what happened—

gojo was rightfully one of the top camboys in the city, probably in the world too. he was sort of a household name, it was more of a side hustle for him. he did it only for the money—sure, he adored his fans, even the ones that went a little too extreme with the provocative thirsting. but that’s all part of the job, he’s about seven months strong in his little gig. every saturday and sunday, he logs on under the user of: @/GOJOSLUTORU.

the moment that same notification pops up that he’s live, a plethora of his fans join immensely, wondering just what their favorite camboy satoru was up to today. his streams would last for a good two hours—longer sometimes if it was some kind of special event where he’d reach a massive amount of donations, a special treat for his fans. gojo was beloved for his flirty personality, he’d make his fangirls swoon with his words, despite knowing full well he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a lady.

that’s until you came along—more like catching him right in the act. it couldn’t have been any more embarrassing though. eleven thousand eyes were cheering him on, showering him with lewd "good boy" praises until you drop your bag.

“satoru?” you utter, curling your brow into a surprised furrow once you take in the scene in front of you. tossing the spare set of keys into the bin, you glance at your roommate—he freezes mid stroke with the most flustered expression. his hands were a bit … occupied, and a glimpse of a familiar cloth you once wore catches your eye. “are those my panties?”

“no….?”

with a deadpan, your shoulders drop before you drag your feet towards him to take a quicker look. oh, those were definitely your panties. so that’s where they ran off too. gojo tries to shield his nude exposed lower half with a nearby towel but it’s no use—you saw everything you needed to see.

“anywhooo,” he swallows, taking a brief peer at his chat that was flooding with all types of questions. they wanted to see you, they wanted to see gojo’s pretty roommate who he’s always rambling about on stream. clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before pitching his tone. he tries to sound more attractive but ends up butchering right away, stuttering at his first pathetic sentence. “ i- i didn’t think you’d get here so early. how was the exam?”

“it was … fine,” you mumble, barely acknowledging his words. your mind was racing vigorously, trying to process how you’d just seen your roommate half naked. going up behind him, you lean in towards his neat set up—you grew a bit curious, immediately, your eyes meet the other eyes that stare back at you. near the top right displayed his large following of eight hundred thousand, the top left displays his current view count, a whopping amount of almost twelve thousand. peeking at the chat, you’re met with dozens of freshly new comments saying how pretty you are, asking if you’re his girlfriend he always talks about, and so on. “you’re a camboy?”

“heh, camboy’s kind of an exaggeration but,” and he’s nervous, you can hear the slight tremor in his voice. it’s cute, gojo was prepared for you to judge him for his side hustle but instead you don’t. he relaxes a bit, shifting his attention away from his crude chat and towards you. “i like to label myself as a um, streamer..”

you have a growing simper. “i don’t think streamers usually get naked for their audience,” and you take a quick stare at his attire—he was practically shirtless, his boxers were covered although he was wearing some kind of tank that had ‘submissive and breedable’ printed on the very front. you furrow your eyebrow, though you choose not to question it. his nervously sly smile only grows once he catches your eyes quite literally checking him out. glancing at the comments again, you hum. “why do they keep asking if i’m your girlfriend? you don’t have a girlfr-”

“woah, s-shut up!” he whines, cupping a hand over your mouth. you giggle, feeling the warmth of his palm rub against your lips. gojo lowers his voice, speaking in a faint whisper. “they think you’re my girlfriend,” and he peels his hand away before running a finger down his nape. “i told them that because-”

“satoru,” you roll your eyes, noticing how he was quite stiff with his body language. being this close to you, your mere elegant fragerence was so exhilarating for him. you made him this nervous, truth be told ; you were far too caught up in your academics to even realize your roommate had a little crush on you. however, you do wish you found out in a more … non less of a lewd way, a way where he wasn’t caught red-handed fondling with a pair of your pretty sage-colored panties. with a sigh, you mumble to him. “you wanna fuck, don’t you?”

that’s definitely not what he thought you was gonna say,

with pouty shimmery lips, gojo’s eyes widen before a sheepish grin marinates against his features. “pft. do i wanna fuck, whaaat?” and he doesn’t even last a second before sighing, dropping his head down in defeat. “y-yes..”

the ringing from his monitor — dozens of women sending him gifts, tickets, donations, begging for their favorite camboy to notice him only gets more disruptive.

the ringing grows louder, the repetitive chiming sound of bells, the blaring notification it makes whenever someone sends him a sweet contribution. pretty soon, he was on the verge of meeting yet another goal. ever since you got spotted on the stream, his viewer count doubled.

“well, why didn’t you just ask? besides, there’s other ways than using my panties to get off.” and a wave of embarrassment washes over his face. the towel’s still covering his torso before he shoots you a shy smile. any closer you could’ve got to him and he thought he was gonna explode. the heat radiating from you had his head going in a crazed ditz. stroking his cheek, you speak softly.

“i’m sorry,” he whines, bottom lip poking out. you end up sitting flat on his lap, and instinctively, the curvature of your waist was met with two big hands snaking around it. you’re so pretty like this, he wanted you so so bad. swallowing, he peeks towards his chat before you cup both of his temples to stare right back into your eyes. “i was gonna ask you but- but i’ve never done this, you know,” and the way you slide a finger behind his neck, skimming the texture of your middle finger down his undercut snatches a purr from him. “i- i want you, but i just don’t know what to do with like .. i wanna make sure that i don’t embarrass myself.”

oh, he couldn’t have been any more cuter,

you heard the slight crack in gojo’s voice at the end of his candied sentences before you sling your arms over him. “don’t be embarrassed,” you softly reply, still straddling his lap. “i can always show you how.” and he gulps, your voice was smooth as silk. sweet as honey, the more you strum your thumb down his undercut, the more he can hear the rapid pulse of his heart beat throb through his ears. the simplicity of your touch was enough to have him weak.

“please..” he murmurs in a hushed tone, loving the way how gentle, how tender you were with your touch. gojo mewls out a needy whimper, feeling a sudden tent rise near between his legs. he was hard, you’d giften him a pretty solid boner and whilst you were propped up on his lap, you felt it rub against you all too well.

gojo awaits for you to make the first move, but you’re teasing . . seeing if he was going to initiate, and he does, inching his sheeny lips into yours.

your roommate pulls you into a deep kiss, he tastes like candy, candied. with your arms still occupied, wrapping around him, you glide your tongue against his, parting lips, teeth clashing amongst each other in sync. you could hear the faint sounds of whimpers run from his lips, he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands though—so gingerly, a hand of his strums down your back, giving the fabric that stuck against your skin a soft yank. he wanted you, the strain beneath his half on boxers only grows the more he starts to suck on your tongue.

heavy, wheezing breaths collide against each other, hitting each moving muscle like a wave,

he’s so eager,

gojo’s mind clears everything out of his head and he’s just focused on you. the saccharine tang of your signature lip gloss, he tastes it and it’s so delicious.

through cerulean-pristine hazed peripherals, gojo looks towards his chat to read some of the comments . .

chososdoublehomicide: i miss choso

zorosthroatwarmer293: i wanna be gojo >:( she’s so pretty

secksybabeamy: Hey hot stuff ;) Subscribe to my only fans!

throatgoatemily: His whines omg

as the kiss deepens, gojo whines once your hand slithers its way down between his legs. slowly removing the towel that sheaths his exposed body, you feel against his dick. at first touch, he whimpers, then whines, then whimpers again.

he was so pent up—you could feel it, you were gentle with your fingers, brushing it against the length of his dick before gently wrapping a hand around its girth. gojo moans in your mouth, feeling hitched breaths arise from his lungs. he could never get enough of how fucking sweet you were,

and he didn’t even want to.

pulling away for a long gasp of fresh air, he bites his lip as he looks down to feel your hands stroke his cock. gojo had quite the staggering inches on him, he shivers at how precise your hand movements were—

up and down,

with a hand of yours gripping over his fat length, a thumb of yours runs down the vein that coats his shaft. its pulsing, he’s needy for more of your touch so bad that it sends shockwaving static to rigorously coarse through his bouquet of neurons.

“y-your hand feels so much better than mine, heh,” he breathes, swallowing the imaginary balled up lump that resides near the back of his throat. blue irises, dilated and all stares at you—a hand reaches towards your back before his thigh starts to bounce. “not to be weird but i kinda had a dream about this, angel.”

“a dream about me stroking you?” you hum, amused before sneaking a wet kiss near the crook of his twitching lips.

gojo nods wearily, forever deeply captured by your beauty. your hands swiftly resumes to stroke him, feeling the tender skin that lives near his frenulum peel back every few seconds. gojo moans, burying his face into the very depths of your neck. so desperate, he wanted more and more. “aw, is this too much? should i slow down?”

“no.. don’t stop,” and his desperate plea was so sweet, though he wanted to go further. you giggle once he suddenly lifts you up, dragging you towards the bed. “f-fuck, ‘m sorry. can’t wait anymore,” and he hovers over you with that crazed look of total desire. “can i … eat you out?”

with a coy smile, you’re laid on your back as he just stands over you — eyes gawking at your entire physique, the way your thighs were all out with the short hem of your shorts reaching against your ass. you could tell gojo was impatient, that hungry stare in his eye never once faded.

“yeah,” you coo, parting your legs slowly. oh, you were a fucking tease.

not only were you a tease for him, you were a simple force to be reckoned with. no panties on either, gojo felt himself get hard yet again before he kneels down. with your roommate positioning himself between your legs, he lets off a soft sigh.

combing your fingers through his soft tangles, he looks up at you with a craving yet impish expression. you giggle, making him look right into your eyes. peering at his chat that was going ballistic over his girlfriend, you speak in a soft tone. “do you know how to even eat pussy, ‘toru? i can h-”

“girl i know how to eat pussy,” he grumbles, and he sounds almost offended at you asking if he needed any sorts of help.

sure—gojo literally didn’t know the first thing of eating a woman out, maybe visually.

but now that he’s up close, he has to stop himself from folding right then and there. so soaked, he gets a full view of your slick entrance, your pussy was the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes upon so far.

as he’s a few inches a apart, with sprawled open thighs—the last thing you’d expect was for to gojo to start drooling all on your cunt. a stringy, syrupy concoction of his own saliva pours out of his mouth and onto your folds. just a quick glimpse and he’s pussy drunk. fuck, he’s more embarrassed than he’s ever been but he can’t help it. gojo didn’t even get a taste and he’s already salivating at the sight of your sopping wet arousal. a thumb of yours wipes the spit that dribbles near the corner of his mouth and he whines at your touch again before he finally digs in.

lolling out his tongue, the very tip licks near the inner moistened entrance of your pulled out labia. gojo for probably the umpteenth time lays his tongue flat before he goes all in. a broad left hand of his attach towards the fat of your thigh as he remakes a long striping lick. “s-shiiit, ‘toru.” you gasp, the coldness on his tongue taking you by sheer surprise.

the texture of it .. you’re weak, gnawing on metaphoric bars of your enclose as well as the skin on your lip, you whine.

for someone who’s never had much experience, let alone no experience, you’d easily second guess. your back arches forward while gojo’s tongue rummages through every part of your clit. he sucks on your nub, closing his eyes and fully sinks into bliss. gojo’s pristine white brows cock into a furrow before he slides a thumb down your wet entrance. he just can’t get over how wet you were for him. sopping wet, inept lips of his constantly quivers before he gives your cunt a sweet kiss.

wet for him, he breaks his lips away for a few seconds just to smear his face against your pussy.

“m-mhm,” he whimpers, wanting your scent to linger on his face for as long as it could, your scent .. it was hard to not get obsessed, a few minutes in and he already felt his mouth watering.

as bundles of minuscule taste buds of his tingle with excitement — his tongue swiftly swirls through every orifice, not missing any spot. he searched through the gooey crevices of your walls, lips moving in complete tandem. his dick strains between his thighs that it’s almost painful.

if eating you out tasted this good, he only imagined what it’d feel like to be inside,

shoved deep into your pussy, stuffing you full with his luscious thickset inches . .

that same repeated whine that always sounds raw dies straight out of your esophagus, you yank on the strands of your roommate’s messy hair as his pace quickens by a mile. in the midst of devouring your heat, a broad hand of his caresses near the juncture of your thighs—he kisses the long slope inside of your entrance, lips all glossy and glittering with gloss thanks to you. that same panging throb starts to grow within you again. your toes curl up tightly before your eyes meet the drywall splattered on the ceiling. his tongue, the way it continues to scrabble all through every part of your cunt, he grows addicted almost immediately. gojo can’t help but lather a few sloppy kisses on your folds, sliding his tongue through your slit.

he even starts to tongue fuck you, softly thrusting the swollen tip of his tongue in and out until you’re about to whine out again for him.

that was his favorite part by far, pushing his tongue in and out of your puffy folds — relishing the way your pretty pussy coats the underside of his chin with a lustrous amount of sweet, burnished slick.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you’d wail, and your hips start to jitter against his face. he doesn’t mind . . in fact, gojo brings two hands to grip against the curves of your hips.

once he maintains a secure grasp, he lets you rub your wetness all over him. with his tongue thoroughly exploring in every part, he starts to whine too .. so eager to touch himself but he wants to keep his hands on you. a whiny whimper wrenches from the back of your throat before you start to babble. “satoru, ‘m gonna cum, fuuuck. jus’ like that, keep l-lickin’ there, baby.”

he was such a quick learner, part of you thinks he maybe had more experience than you oughta thought. gojo can’t help but attack your sweet syrupy folds with a multitude of kisses, drooling lips of his making you more sticky than you already were. your legs could barely hold themselves open.

he had to pry them open with clammy hands, slurping in every drop as if he was dehydrated with thirst. a thirst you happily quenched with him being propped between your legs. after a while, he runs a thumb down your slit once more, pretty eyes glancing up at you, wanting to see your sweet face. “a-am i doin’ a good job?” and his voice was a bit hoarse, the way he speaks, drooping eyes and a sheepish grin—visibly pussy drunk, you grab onto his strands before rocking your hips into his mouth. he giggles, muffled noises eliciting from his mouth, taking your eager jittery movements as a yes.

he just couldn’t get enough of his roommate’s taste.

occasionally, he likes to depart his lips to gather a nice concoction of saliva—only to then spit right onto your sopping folds, whining at how it was so shiny. so pretty, he’s mesmerized again at how it looks, and you end up cumming with the cutest shrieking orgasm. it snatches out of you roughly, your speech is slurred for a moment as your legs quaver in utmost pleasure.

you’re shaking, feeling him clean you up with the flatness of his tongue—gojo moans, white lashes fluttering as he takes your beauty in. this was so much better than one of his risqué wet dreams. so much better,

without even a single word leaving from his lips, he gets up to pull you into a kiss. almost immediately, you taste yourself that lingers on his tounge. it tastes sweet, gojo props himself between your thighs as you sit up, a free hand of his sliding between your stretched out legs. the constant rings of his donations continue to scream out that same annoying chime before he leans in to shut his computer. he’d probably have left so many—thousands of his fan girls devastated, but there was only a new fan girl he was fixated on.

you.

gojo was addicted, with tongues colliding against each other, hot breaths wafting against each own, he feel his breath hitch at your touch. a hand of yours snakes down to feel on his erect dick. he whines, gnawing at the bottom of your lip before his tongue gets more curious. he licks the bottom of your chin, the side of your mouth, only to then pull you into another deep kiss. “f-fuck, ‘m so hard,” he rasps between sultry kisses, heaving from each breath. you still couldn’t get over the taste of yourself that loiters all on the flat of his pink tongue. “i wanna feel you from the inside, angel.”

“but your stream,” you tease once he finally pulls away, taking a second to catch your breath yourself. you felt the heat roam across the room before stroking his cheek — flushed lips of his burn with such intensity, you had him feral. “your fans, i wouldn’t wanna interrupt them, ‘toru.”

“fuck them,” he pouts, the cute frown on his face tugging against his lips. “okay that’s mean, they help me pay rent but just- i want you right now,” and he’s so needy. he paws at your t-shirt, glossy eyes widening, god. his bottom lip pokes out, squinting for two seconds before seeing how your nipples invitingly poke out. so perky, he could feel his mouth watering sporadically. he lays you back before swallowing, a loud gulp before he hovers over you. “you knew this was gonna happen, didn’t y-you? such a tease.”

you simper, opening your legs for him and he gets a good glimpse. gojo sucks his teeth, still so soaked. he only dreamt of what you’d feel like inside.

probably so tight and warm,

the more he thinks about it, the more he could feel himself starting to drool. gojo’s panting as if he’d just finished a marathon. a hand of his wraps around his length—giving it a few solid pumps. “i thought you’d wanna do doggy for your first position,” you sweetly say, and oh, he pouts for you again. you sit up, awaiting for him to take the lead first before smiling. “missionary though? you’re not so good with eye contact, baby.”

“i know how to do missonry.” he grumbles.

“missionary,” you correct him with a titter.

he pouts again, preparing to align himself. so wet, your pussy was sopping wet, swollen from just being eaten out so good. a warm breath fans out through his lips before he rubs it against your slippery slit. “and don’t call me baby,” he moans, although the simple pet name for him a lot harder than he thought it would. slowly, gojo’s fat leaky tip continues to ghost against your folds. you hold back a sweet moan, laid all out on display for him on the mattress. he’s waited for this moment, had dreams about it, even fantasized about it. “fuck,” he’d huff out, and his voice cracks. you’d laugh but he’s staring at you the entire time with that cute pouty expression. “can- can we hold hands? for you know, leverage?”

“leverage, sure,” you play along, your fingers locking against his. damp, perspiring palms squeeze against yours before his rounded tip starts to slowly make its way inside. immensely, a breath gets caught in his throat and he whines. the warmth he’s rudely greeted with makes him gnaw his pearly whites together. “you’re kinda b-big, so go a little slow, ‘toru.”

“i’m big?” he repeats—cutely enough, it boosts his ego that you think so, yet his confidence fades the further he dumps a few hefty inches into your entrance. as you expected, you were a bit tight and stiff for a few seconds—unyielding against him for a moment, you moan. saying gojo was big was a mere understatement, he couldn’t help but lean in to lay against your chest. “how’s it feel? s-slower?”

“it’s good. that’s good,” you start to heave, gasping once he inches his head closer to latch his lips against your neglected cold nipples. he doesn’t even lift up your t-shirt, he runs his tongue through the fabric and sucks on your perked tits. “t-toru, fuckk.”

it was a soft twinge sensation at first before he’s close to bottoming out . . so close,

it’s at the moistened tip of his tongue. gojo’s shaft resumes to go in further, you feel him pulse inside before once he’s all the way in, he’s already out of breath. with his mouth occupied—he’s still sucking on your nipples through the shirt, whiney. a free hand of his runs gives your left thigh a nice firm grasp before he starts up a single few thrusts.

you whine, tossing your arms over him and he glances down at you—beads of sweat race down the sides of his brow before he sits up in a proper position. gojo can’t get over how pretty you look for him like this, he’s fully in and he sneaks a kiss onto your lips. “can i m-move?” and the falter in his voice was adorable, gojo’s breath continues to get more heavy before you give him a nod. he peppers various kisses near your mouth, neck, and of course, your precious chest. his personal favorite,

with frail arms wrapped around him, pulling him close—you run your ankle down his back and he moans. “oh, ‘s even better than i imagined,” he whispers against your ear, hot breath sending you antsy judders. the more his breath goes against your skin, the more you smell how minty it was. fresh, you desperately yearned for more so you pull him into another kiss for the nth time. “ugh. the way you clamp down, ‘s gonna kill me,” he babbles in a low puff. he’s speaking between staring up at decent pace for you to get accustomed to. you whimper, trying to get adjusted to his barreling length but he was just so fucking big. it was an ongoing rumor that between gojo—and his best friend suguru geto had the top biggest dicks. of course, you always wondered exactly how whoever started that rumor would even know, but gojo was definitely a packer. he stretched you out in ways you’ve never felt before. with strained breaths, he coats your mouth with many wet kisses. time and time again, the feeling of himself going into you raw has him drooling again. “pussy’s so wet, ‘m gonna die, oh my god.”

“don’t be dramatic, you’re not gonna die.” you try to reassure him. the grip on your hand only grows tighter, crimson lips of his suck against the underside of your chin.

so damn needy,

mussed strands of white tickle against your forehead the closer he presses his body into you. gojo was shivering, just a few minutes in pussy and as if it was a game—he’d be on the last level, game over. albeit, you feel it too. the warmth, it turns into a sweltering hot. as his hips rock, his whines start to become more vocal. he sneaks a hand down to feel the area that’s being stuffed, a thumb skims against your tummy before he moans,

“feel me t-there, yeah?” he whispers, a cute attempt at dirty talk but alas, it’s subtle. gojo easily folds once your eyes meet his gaze.

you moan, intertwining your fingers with his, moaning out a soft, “yeah,” and you sound out of breath yourself.

he’s jerking back and forth — his pace, his tempo . . wasn’t too slow or two fast, perfect.

with a quivering bottom lip, he leans in to lick against the outer shell of your ear. your cunt’s singing in harmony, sloshes of wet that leaves its metaphoric vocal cords and you start to get a bit louder. “f-fuck, ‘toru right there—fuuuck.”

“s-shit, you’re so pretty,” he pants, repeating his ways at coating your entire face with his wet kisses. you had him weak, entirely. you found it a bit silly considering how this could have happened anytime—anytime at all, all he had to do was ask. but gojo being gojo, he was not only a man with barely any experience, but he was nervous. he’s always had a bit of a crush on you but confessing sounded way scary. it was as if this entire thing was mere coincidence though, you happen to find out he’s not only a sloppy eater but,

he’s a camboy.

part of you wonders what he does on his streams. if you saw him rubbing one off while thinking about you—you could only imagine what other lewd antics he participated in.

gojo’s rutting into you at a much more quicker pace, he’s whining into your neck;

forgetting to praise you, and it’s more of the other way around. you’re cupping his face, stroking his cheek before repeating in that same melodic voice, “good boy, ‘s so good, makin’ me feel good, ‘toru baby.”

your voice, oh your voice, he could listen to it all day. you feel the constant twitch of his cock inside you and he whines every time your ankle rubs down his back. with the way your pussy holds him hostage— it’s so provocative, his reaction time was as slow as a sloth, droopy eyes stare at you before he grunts out a pleading, “f-fuck, ‘s gonna come,” and his voice sounds like a soft purr, gojo was like a kitten to you— so cute, his pout always make things more true too. he’s groaning in your ear, fat balls thwacking against you before his ears starts to ring. you’re moaning with him, bodies thrusting in sync that it’s almost like a pornographic choreography. “ugh, i- i feel it, ‘m gonna cum so much. so hot, gonna die.”

“breathe, baby,” you whisper, pulling his face closer to you. his chubby cheeks squish together once he’s within your grasp, the sharp piston of his hips makes you moan. his thrusts gets a bit sloppy and you press a kiss onto his mouth. “mwah,” you hum, watching how flustered he gets at a lick of your affection. “you wanna finish inside, don’t you?”

gojo whimpers. “yeah, yeah. really bad,” and the moment you suggest that, his ears perk cutely. he’s gotta be careful though—with a cunt as addicting as yours, he just might end up falling in love.

speaking of love, it’s as if heart eyes pour into his irises as he glances at you—again, metaphorically of course. gojo gulps at the tender touch of your fingers, leaning in to nip a kiss near your neck. through muffled words, he mewls. “i wanna fill you up. ‘s only fair since you’re milking me s-so much, ‘m so thirsty,” and he’s just babbling, pulling him close—he whines once he feels your finger glide through his sensitive undercut again. “hngh, gonna break me. let me make a mess in you please? i’ll even eat it out of you once ‘m done.”

you’re tempted at his pleads, giggling before dragging him into a deep kiss. “such a blabbermouth,” you tease between kisses, staring to feel the tears of sweat race down the sides of your forehead also— with a sly smile, you lick the drool that was about to run down the side of his lip. “finish in me, ‘toru. it’s okay. be my messy boy.”

his eyes dilated once he hears that,

your messy boy.

he even repeats it, “y-your messy boy, yeah, ‘m so messy for you, roomie,” and as he’s preparing for his inevitable release, he sinks into your warm embrace. “one more kiss, h-hold me.” and as if on command, you yoke his head in close, giving him a deep, passionate kiss. his pulsing heart beats through his ears. gojo—by this point, he was already whipped. the way his hips pick up, growing more sloppy and deranged—he’s feral.

the feverish under parts of his thighs burn, longing for its incoming conclusion climax—yet, as your smoldering heat gnashes against his, it finally comes.

with a primal gasp, it’s here.

the nirvana—euphoria, whatever it could have been called to describe this feeling, it was here.

gojo whimpers, going into a complete spazzing fit once he feels the slow orgasmic waves of himself starting to shoot literal humid blanks inside you.

it’s hot, parching hot— your heat against smelts his, it scratches a fervor itch in your brain. his tongue rummages the inside of your mouth again as he’s painting the insides of your gummy walls with his snowy white color.

satiny ropes of your roommate’s seed trickle into you, it’s so gooey and hot that it starts to stick against the inner parts of your thighs. each rough kiss reflects the same desire the both of you share before he shudders.

slow thrusts, he’s barely moving as fast as he was before but he’s still active. he wants to make sure you feel every inch he’s saved for you,

for weeks, months, maybe even years—

“god,” he whimpers out, pulling away from your glossed lips—a pretty cobweb of spit departs from each and he happily laps it up with his tongue. who knew your roommate was nothing more than a mere freak.

not you, not by a long shot.

it takes a moment for him to catch his breath, with a flustered look— gojo’s now clingy.

he doesn’t wanna move away from you, nor does he wanna exactly pull out. not just yet, he’s plugged you full of sticky cum that was threatening to ooze of your hole before he kisses the bridge of your nose. “that was so awesome.”

and just like that, the mood’s ruined—you pant, he’s hovering over you, his weight barely on you before you sigh.

“you know,” you change the subject, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “your moans, you sound more like a girl than me, ‘s kinda hot.”

“whaaat?” he grumbles, his sweetened pout forever returning. “that’s not nice, ‘n besides if it’s anyone who moans louder it’s you, angel.”

you kiss near the twitching corner of his lip, watching his sudden attitude shift like a light switch and he’s now a puddle. “you finished a bit early though,” and with your arms wrapping around him again, you speak in a soft voice. “wanna go again? you’re a natural, ‘toru.”

“please,” he whines with a nod, feeling how sweltering hot it felt to be still buried into the comforting tightness of your cunt. “this time, i wanna try doggy.”

“okay, pretty boy,” you tease, leaning in for another one of gojo’s sloppy, need kisses. just before he could pull out, the door springs open. the hinges scream once it pulls back and the two of you both look to see what the racket was.

as the door opens, it was geto—gojo’s best friend, and he had the most disgusted look on his face.

with a scrunched up face, he utters. “i’m never running errands for you two again, what the actual fuck.”

and as he turns his heel to leave, gojo snorts. “suguboooo! aw, don’t leave just yet. you can always joinnn.”

[paddockbunny]

Fraternisation Clause II

Summary : Working for McLaren is hard, being Lando’s PR girl is even harder….so maybe you need to make a tough decision that will be even harder yet Rating : 18+ Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader Word Count : 4005 words Trigger Warnings : language but clean, kissing but nothing NSFW Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : same as part 1, there’s a couple of bits that probably don’t make a whole lot of sense but hey, it’s a work of fiction people ☺️

Sakhir ‘23

You fanned yourself with the notebook you were holding in your hands. You watched as the timings on the screen were continually switching, shifting, and jumping around. Every now and then you were writing things down in your little black notebook. Ideas, things to pitch to the team, notes about managerial style - in truth you just wanted to show people you were suited for the job. During winter break you caught up with your old superior and mentor Charlotte to give you some pointers and help with the step up. She was so helpful but reiterated to just “fake it til you make it”.

As your mind wandered your eyes panned over toward Toto Wolff and instantly you attempted to shrug off the feelings of imposter syndrome. He thought you were good enough. He wouldn’t have suggested you to the Chief PRM if he didn’t. You found out from Zak on your last day last season that Toto himself had enquired about you and called you a “hard little worker” which filled you with confidence. If he saw your potential then you needed to believe in yourself. In your head you internally repeated; “I am good enough, I deserve this position, I can do this.”

In the afternoon you walked down the paddock with your new ward, Lewis fucking Hamilton. The man was a God in your household. Ever since he entered F1 your whole motorsport mad family acted like he was the new messiah. You naturally loved him because it was who everyone was always rooting for and in all seriousness, he was the reason you wanted to work in the sport in the first place. You had several pinch me moments throughout the day. First when he handed you his phone to hold while he signed some autographs. The second when he sweetly placed a hand on your back to stop someone bumping into you. And the latest was when he complimented your sense of humour making you blush so hard you were scared your cheeks would become Ferrari red. It was as if you were in an alternative universe and you were living your childhood dreams. It was completely surreal. You weren’t to be his PR overseer but since they were currently not available due to the birth of their baby overlapping the beginning of the season you were happy to step in for the next coming few months.

Approaching the Mercedes garage you realised the euphoria feeling wasn’t to last long. Heading in the opposite direction (and straight toward you) was Lando (and the new girl they hired to replace you). You wanted him to catch your eye. You wanted him to at least smile at you. Lewis said hey as you all glided past one another. Lando nodded in response.

“Hey!” You took the opportunity when he was close to say hello and nothing. Zilch. Nada. He didn’t even look at you. “That was frosty,” Lewis looked at you. You didn’t want rumours to start or any questions raised so immediately lied. “Ah, he’s joking. When I left he said he would have to ignore me now I was a traitor.” I laughed and Lewis raised a small smile “Just don’t be a traitor to Mercedes and you’ll be fine.” He jested. But you bit into the inside of your lip as you felt nothing but sadness. Lando cut you off so easily and acted as if your friendship meant nothing to him. He didn’t even want to look at you. It was as if you didn’t exist now you were in white and not orange. You had spent many nights over winter break worried if you had done the right thing. You flip flopped between moving to Merc or leaving the sport all together. You felt like a teenager again concerned about a boy and friendships. But you also realised you were being completely ridiculous. If it were true what everyone joked about and he really did have feelings for you or even just a fondness for you, then he had to have known he was going to get hurt. There was no way he wouldn’t know about the fraternisation clause and him ignoring you really was because you were dead to him.

Australia ‘23

Race three and the third one that Lando had totally ignored you. And while you were annoyed, pissed off and frustrated you shrugged it off. If he wanted to act like a petulant child then fine. You had done nothing wrong. There was no point getting upset about it. You couldn’t force him to speak to you and you knew you couldn’t cause a scene even if you could. But you took the time to focus on work. It was important to you after all.

After qualifying - when Lewis came a disappointing 11th - the media duties were tedious and boring. The same questions being peddled again and again and again. It was monotonous and repetitive. So far it was the lowest Lewis had qualified in three races and none of the journalists’ failed to bring it up. No one could blame him for any of the answers he gave in response. You tried to get the rounds done as quick as possible and get Lewis out of there. It felt like it was taking forever till the final interview ended and the pair of you swiftly headed for the media pen exit. But the universe wanted to fuck with you today as while you and Lewis were heading out Lando and Chloe - his new PR officer - we’re heading in. There was no way you could hide. You braced yourself for the awkwardness of the situation.

“Lando….” You smiled and he just tiled his head back and turned his attention back to Lewis. You noted how Chloe clocked the international and prayed she would just ignore it. It was awkward enough and you didn’t want to have to answer questions that you didn’t even know the answer too. Small talk was exchanged between drivers before finally you could get back to work and get Lewis back in time for the Merc briefing.

Lewis headed away inside ahead of you and just as you were about to ascend the stairs when your name was called from behind and there was your former colleague Sarah who threw her arms around you.

“I’ve missed you! I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other since we got back” She held on to me tighter and you agreed with her. You missed the laughing and the camaraderie of being a part of that team. They were all wonderful humans who each made working a total pleasure - something you needed when you were away from home so much. Conversation flowed easily. You spoke about your new roles and how different Merc was to McLaren and she told you all about her new boyfriend. It twigged something inside of you and for some reason you took it as the perfect segway to ask about Lando.

“How is Chloe getting on? Is she managing Lando?” You smiled to show her you didn’t mean anything bad from your words. But she immediately gave you a look, one you knew exactly what she meant. “In one word, No!” She exclaimed. “She’s been struggling to gain his respect. I think shes not firm enough and is a bit too placid. He walks all over her. Its not like how he was with you. He’s being a bit of a pain in the arse to work with.” This you already knew if you were being honest. You had observed it yourself in the paddock.

“Do you think you could do something?” She asked and it truthfully took you aback. You hadn’t expected her to make this request of you. It took you aback considering Lando’s sudden distrust and even hatred toward you. With a sigh you admitted it for the first time;

“Sarah, I don’t know what I CAN do. He doesn’t speak to me anymore. He won’t even look at me. Ever since I left he acts like I’m poisonous or something.” She furrowed her brows in confusion. “Wait, what?” She expressed. “I don’t understand. He adored you. He talks about you so all the time!” She exclaimed. “He doesn’t speak to you anymore? Not even to say hi?” You shook your head. “Wow!”

“I know. I know we were just colleagues but it feels like I’ve lost my best friend, Sarah.” “Yeah it would, you spent so much time with him.” She sighed “Wait, you don’t think he’s actually y’know, been in love with you? I know we used to jest about it but…”

You shook your head. It was something you had spent hours upon hours considering. It was plausible and it wasn’t exactly as if it was what you had been afraid of when you left - not to mention WHY you left. At the absolute most he may have had a slight infatuation with you but that was it. You were now 100% positive of that. He wouldn’t have refused to look at you if he had remotely even fancied you.

China ‘23

P2.

That was where Lando finished. On the podium. You had to hide your smile and bite your inner cheek. Lewis finished P9 so it was another tough one. No one in the garage had even the faintest smile upon their faces when the race came to a close.

As Lewis gave his fourth interview you attempted to pay attention when behind you a jubilant, triumphant Lando waltzed into the media pen. You stared, his curls still wet from champagne clung to his forehead. He needed his hat. He always needed his hat after he had been up on the podium, he used it to control his hair so it didn’t get frizzy - he didn’t want to be on TV with frizzy hair you remembered. You looked at Chloe and it wasn’t in her hand so you wondered if she had forgotten. This was Sarah had been hinting at back in Aus. She wasn’t prepared enough and Lando was eating her alive. You knew how he could be and how he could get sometimes and you knew the tricks to calm him down. As Lewis moved on you quickly grabbed her arm.

“When he’s finished, give him water. He won’t drink it but he’ll use it to smooth his hair out a bit. Don’t worry about the hat. I did it too.” You had never once forgotten his hat but you didn’t want her to feel bad. She mouthed you a thank you and followed your advice immediately. Lando paid her no attention. You felt him staring at you. His eyes locked on you and you had no idea how to read it. It made you nervous which angered you. He had no right to make you feel nervous anymore.

His next interview was the one right beside you and Lewis. And you knew he stood closer to you on purpose. He was only a few feet behind. You could hear his answers, zoning out of Lewis’ completely. He was talking about the win and something that happened on track. He laughed at a joke and then started praising everyone at McLaren. He mentioned Chloe by name and you wondered if he was doing it on purpose. You were sure he was.

“Everything is going the right way and we’ve got a good team now, I have a good team behind me finally.” It was a gut punch. Lewis was finished and you turned off the recording on your phone. Your face had fallen and he immediately asked if you were ok. You nodded. Just a nod. Annoyance took over your body and you didn’t want to say something you might regret. Lewis’ hand gently caressed your back and if only your younger self could see you now. Soothed by Lewis Hamilton after being incensed by Lando Norris.

You could barely lead the PR team meeting you had been so distracted. You tried to give feedback on socials over the course of the weekend but kept thinking about how Lando had tried to throw you under the bus earlier. He had insinuated you were no good and it was such a grossly childishly, petulant stunt to pull. You struggled on to take notes on feedback from the team but you had let it stew inside you. So when finally you told everyone to head back to the hotel and get a drink to chill out, you tried to think of a way to sneak into the McLaren camp to speak to him (or give him a piece of your mind at least). You hadn’t realised but you had been sitting for a while just staring at the table. And it was Lewis who brought you out of your daze as he was walking past to head home.

“Are you sure you are ok?” You snapped and took a big inhale. The attempt you made to brush his concern off didn’t work. “Lando?” He asked “that was a dick answer today” you hadn’t realised he had heard it and you sighed while rolling your eyes. “You should talk to him.” “I can’t. He ignores me in the paddock and I can’t just waltz into his drivers room anymore.” “You can’t, but I can. Come on.” He as good as ordered you to stand up and follow him. You were going to get a bollocking for this. He shouldn’t have been doing this, least of all for you! It probably wouldn’t even work anyway.

“Norris still here?” He asked and the two mechanics he asked looked instantly starstruck. It was how most people reacted to Lewis and he clearly knew it. They nodded and pointed to where his drivers room was. “Cool just need to collect something…oh wait…” he slipped his phone out of his pocket and he said your name “can you get it for me? I need to take this.” AND THAT WAS IT! It was that simple. His face card never declined. One of the mechanics registered it was you and smiled. Astonishment befell you as he simply turned back to packing up some of the tools. It was as if you hadn’t left at all. Lewis’ spot on acting (and face card) was all you needed to slip past and enter the inner sanctum you had once known so well.

Steadying your breathing you raised a hand to the door and rapped quickly in succession. What was the worst that could happen? That he slam the door in your face? At least you would know once and for all he despised and loathed you. It took a few seconds for the door handle to depress. You swallowed hard. Hoping Lewis’ persistence you talk to him - and giving you no time to refuse - would at least earn you some answers. Or perhaps you would need to be the one sharing them, you thought as suddenly Lando was standing in front of you, face to face.

“Can we talk?” Your voice wasn’t as confident as you hoped it would have been as it flowed out of you. Lando stepped aside, a silent gesture to allow you in. You pushed your better judgment about it aside and walked over the threshold. No going back.

What proceeded wasn’t exactly an argument but it was two people who had clearly very different views on the past couple of months and the desolation of their close friendship. Lando protested he had done nothing wrong. That he was treating you the same as anyone else who had left the team (which was completely and utterly untrue). You called him a child and he scoffed. The fight to remain calm was hard. You wanted to shout at him and plead that he see sense.

“You wanted bigger better things. You didn’t want to stay here, with me.” It hit you in the centre of your chest and you felt all of the emotions rush at you. The ones that you had bottled up for the whole past year. It was you who was childish. You were transported back into being a scared teenage girl who didn’t believe she could be desired - or loved. You had done as he suggested. You ran as soon as you knew things were getting a bit too close with him. But still you tried to deny it;

“Lando…I don’t know where you’ve got that from but I,..”“Please, I’m not fucking stupid.” He seriously couldn’t believe that? “I didn’t leave because of you….well I did but it was because of me, because of…how we were” You couldn’t quite find the words. His confusion plastered all over his face.

“What does that even mean?” “Because of how close we were.” You admitted but he was looking at you - staring at you - in sheer disbelief at your words. “Stop talking in riddles” He demanded and you simply just stopped talking altogether because you couldn’t find the right words and didn’t even know how to say what you wanted to actually say. The silence grew within the small room and it was suffocating.

“God, you’re so fucking…” Out of the blue he groaned through gritted teeth. And that was all it took. It pushed you over the edge. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

“There’s a clause in the contracts. No fraternisation between employees” Lando looked at you blankly. The words you had uttered weren’t registering with him.

“It means two employees of McLaren cannot be employed and be in a relationship or be, intimate or whatever. They could be… they could loose their jobs and considering YOU are Lando FUCKING Norris, YOU aren’t going anywhere. I would have lost my job and my career and everything I’ve worked for…”

“When? Why would you have lost everything? What do you mean?” He interrupted. This time you were so frustrated. Not just with him - and his his blatant naivety and how he wasn’t able to read between the lines - but because he had you feeling something. Something completely and utterly reckless. But your conscience didn’t kick in in time to register what exactly you were doing. It was all simply out of your control. The following series of manoeuvres that were as if you had become possessed.

You strode purposefully and confidently over to him. Body slamming against his with a sexual ferocity you had never experienced within yourself before. Outstretched hands reached out and pulled his face to yours. Lips attaching. It felt like it was completely normal to be kissing him. As if the world had willed it. Then you felt his hands gripping, grasping and seizing your sides like they belonged there. The sheer sense of overwhelming comfort overcame you, you felt to at home there in his arms with his tongue toying with your own. It was a feeling that was enough to startle you and so you pulled back.

“That. That is what I mean.” You were out of breath and you would have been speechless but he needed to understand what you had been attempting to convey. Like a scene from a Shakespearean play, you relinquished all control and gave in as Lando slid his hand effortlessly against your neck. His eyes seemed to go on staring into yours as if he was sending you a silent signal that he understood. It was enough to send a shiver up your spine. It came from pure unadulterated want, desire, need. And you succumbed to it all. Your lips went back to his.

Seconds, minutes or hours could have passed as you relaxed as he kissed you. Everything blended all into one and memories of all of those months you had spent denying your obvious attraction to him flickered quickly in your mind. For a brief moment Lando stopped and pulled his lips from yours. “Do you think I would have let them fire you?” Lando asked. “I would have walked before I let them do that.”

“Lan…” he pecked your lips to shut you up and you let him.

It was like one of the smutty dreams you had last year but, undeniably better. His pouty, reddened lips trailed down to your jaw and you tried hard not to gasp when he continued his decent to your neck. He softly groaned and the vibration made you feel woozy.

“I’ve dreamt about kissing you for years.” His admission. All of the jesting and joking had indeed been true and he tried to kiss you again but you pulled back. Scared of how far you would let him go.

“Lando, we cant…” “You don’t work for McLaren anymore. There’s no contract saying you can’t kiss me.” He had a point. A very strong valid point. Your eyes and his were locked together. You were searching his green orbs to find something, anything, that you could convince you kissing him again was a bad idea. Your heart thundered in your chest and you realised your breathing was erratic and you were breathless.

You were about to surrender and give into him. Feeling his sudden desire for you exuding his body. His hunger radiated through him, you could feel it reverberating into you. And truthfully, there was nothing you craved more than wanting to feel his lips again. But as a knock echoed around his drivers room, you snapped back into reality. You grabbed something inconsequential and laughed loudly just as the door opened. It was a desperate attempt to cover up your tracks and explain why you were in a rival team’s driver room.

“Thank you so much for this. He can’t believe he left without it…” You tried the best you could as Chloe, your replacement stared at you suspiciously. “No problem, I only remembered this morning.” Lando played along and you swallowed as you felt the newbies eyes on you.

“Have a good week off, Lando. Get some rest.” Any thoughts of kissing him again had now been forgotten about. The only thing that consumed you was getting out of the way and back to the safety of the Mercedes camp. You walked (pretending to do so calmly) as fast as your feet could carry you. It was so stupid of you to be so flippantly brazen. What the fuck did you think was going to happen? How could you have been so moronic to go to his drivers room of all places? You glanced down at the headset in your hands and saw the McLaren logo staring back at you. It didn’t even make any sense as to why Lewis would need this. What had you been thinking? You scoffed, it was so fucking obvious that you weren’t thinking at all. All of your thoughts were so consumed about your predicament you didn’t watch where you were going and ran straight into your boss - practically head first…well, your head to his chest. His large, imposing body sent you jolting backward and instinctively your hands flew up and against his wide, broad, muscular chest for stability.

“Toto, oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed but he just smiled down at you. You felt so small in his presence. While you had gotten more comfortable around him in the past coming months and even started to have a bit of banter with him, you were still intimidated by him.

“Where are you going so fast, kleines kätzchen?”* you didn’t speak German so had no idea what he said but the fact his eyes were soft and he was still smirking meant it couldn’t be anything bad. “Just uh, I forgot something.” You tried to quell the rushing thoughts in your head. “A McLaren headset?” He motioned to your hands. FUCK!! You needed to quickly modify the story because he (of all people) would not buy the Lewis story.

“It’s silly” You tried to cover up “A game with Lando before I left, it’s my winnings.” You prayed it might miraculously sound convincing. “A souvenir” He added nodding.

“Yes, something like that.” You agreed but your lips tingled and you wondered if Lando kissing you back was actually your souvenir? You had been interrupted before you could discuss anything with him. What if now he had a taste for you he no longer wanted you? Fuck. You were such an idiot.

“Well, slow down, you might hurt yourself.” Toto winked at you and you felt a little flutter of butterflies way deep down in the pit of your stomach. There was no denying your boss was attractive and very, very desirable but you internally reprimanded yourself for your reaction. He was older, married and completely out of your league - but then Lando was also out of your league and you had just fled his drivers room after he stuck his tongue down your throat - and Toto fucking Wolff for crying out loud.

As you began walking (slower, calmer and more composed this time) you looked at the headset and swallowed. What the fuck were you going to do now?!

*little kitty

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

So I’m a minor (16 to be specific) and I frequently watch and read stuff with explicit sexual or 18+ content in it. I live in an extremely conservative Christian household and things like explicit fanfic are pretty much the only option I have for learning about sex that isn’t abstinence only. I do feel bad about it, especially when I see adults online say stuff like “oh i watched lots of inappropriate things as a teen that i really shouldn’t have” and it makes me feel like I’m ruining myself in a way that I won’t realize until I’m an adult? Right now I don’t see what the big deal is but i get the feeling that when i’m 24 or something I’ll wake up one day and be ashamed of this for some reason i’m not mature enough to know yet. Should I just stop and wait until I’m 18 to continue or what?

hi anon,

okay. I'm gonna hit you with something:

turning 18 does not actually change the way you feel about porn or sex or anything. the difference between being seventeen and 364 days and being 18 is nonexistent. there's not a magical switch that changes you as a person; that comes from lived experience. if you're 18 and your experience is still that porn and smut and what have you i something that you should feel bad about, it's still going to feel that way and a birthday won't change that.

look, the whole notion of "I saw [x] that I shouldn't have when I was young" is like. okay. so you saw something that was a little mature for you that you didn't quite get? awesome. did you die? no. most people's hangups about sexuality don't come from seeing a rogue titty when they were a teenager, they come from the culture that person was raised in that made seeing a rogue titty feel like something to be ashamed of instead of a completely natural part of life.

story time! when I teach my 4th-6th grade OWL classes (Our Whole Lives, great human development program) I always start by holding a meeting with the kids' parents. I've been doing this for seven years, and every time without fail some of the parents will recall seeing porn for the first time as a kid. these guys were kids when printed porn magazines were still a thing, so they were discovering them in all kinds of places - the bedrooms of their parents or their friends' parents, at bus stops, in the woods, once even stowed in some farm equipment. and they remember it feeling illicit and exciting, sure, and possibly making them confused or even horny for the first time in their young lives, but like... that's it. none of these people are irreparably damaged by seeing porn. in fact, they've grown up to be the kind of people who go out of their way to make sure their young kids are enrolled in a queer-friendly, body-positive, diversity-embracing sex ed class to counter stereotypes and misinformation they might receive elsewhere.

looking at things that arouse you is morally neutral. it can be a great way to help you learn about what turns you on, and even if it's not the best source of factual, realistic depictions of sex, it can still help you discover things - hell, I only figured out what the clitoris was by reading Young Justice fanfic (shout out Snaibsel).

you can't ruin yourself, at any age, with the media you like to consume. what makes you uncomfortable and anxious is the attitude you've been taught to have about that media, which is something that has to be actively unlearned, because it's certainly not going to just disappear on its own when you become a legal adult.

tl;dr obviously no one is making you watch porn and you shouldn't if it makes you uncomfortable, but if you drop it right now and come back when you're 18 don't expect to feel any different if you haven't done any more unpacking re: the conservative Christianity of it all.

[twinsimming]

Utilities Mod Update (6/10/24) - Heating and Cooling System & Temperature Utilities ⛄🔥

Sims are now affected by outdoor temperatures indoors, and are at risk of overheating or freezing if their temperature swings to either extreme. 

Thermostats, Radiators, and/or Air Conditioners are now required inside a sim’s home to help regulate their temperature.

Requirements

This mod requires The Sims 3: Seasons.

To activate the new system, place down one of the three temperature utilities and use the “Enable Temperature Utility” interaction. Once enabled, you can then turn on the temperature utility to control your lot’s temperature.

These temperature changes will only affect sims in your household on your active home lot. No need to worry about unplayed households or sims on community lots freezing or spontaneously combusting!

Thermostats, Radiators, & Air Conditioner Utilities

There are three different types of temperature utilities to choose from to control your lot’s temperature, depending on the climate of your current world and the size of your lot. 

Thermostats are good for climates that have both hot and cold seasons, as they have heating and air conditioning, and are cost effective for residential lots with more than two or three rooms.

Radiators and Air Conditioners are better for climates that have either cold or hot seasons, but not both. They’re also more cost effective for apartments or starter homes with a few rooms, as they cost less per hour of what a thermostat does.

Thermostat: Provides either heat or air conditioning when turned on, covers the entire house, costs §2 per hour, gives the Toasty and Keeping Cool custom moodlets

Radiator: Provides heat when turned on, only covers the room it is located in, costs §1 every 2 hours, gives the Toasty custom moodlet

Air Conditioner: Provides air conditioning when turned on, only covers the room it is located in, costs §1 every 2 hours, gives the Keeping Cool custom moodlet

There are three thermostats, four radiators, and two air conditioners included with the mod. Some of the meshes are from Around The Sims 3 and the others were converted from The Sims 2 and The Sims 4 by me.

Temperature Utilities Usage

Temperature utilities can be turned on for different lengths of time: 6 hours, 12 hours, 18 hours, or 24 hours and will automatically switch off when the time is up.

Radiators and Air Conditioners have “Turn All On/Turn All Off” interactions to switch on or off all radiators or all air conditioners on the lot at once.

The usage cost of these utilities will be added to your household’s next bill.

If you want to opt out of the heating and cooling system, use the “Disable Temperature Utility” interaction available on one of the three temperature utilities.

Pay attention to the weather forecast temperatures to determine when your household needs to turn on their heating or air conditioning, and remember to turn them off when the weather is fine to save money!

Note: Temperature utilities will not be shut off due to lack of funds, bill delinquency, or outages.

New Moodlets

Keeping Cool: Given when air conditioning is on, lasts until sim leaves the room (air conditioner) or house (thermostat), +5 mood, removes the Pleasantly Warm, Getting Warm, Starting to Sweat, and Sweating Profusely moodlets

Toasty: Given when heat is on, lasts until sim leaves the room (radiator) or house (thermostat), +5 mood, removes the Pleasantly Chilly, Getting Chilly, Starting to Shiver, and Teeth Chattering moodlets

Master Controls

Every utility now has four new interactions: “Turn On All Utilities”, “Turn Off All Utilities”, “Enable All Utilities”, and “Disable All Utilities” under a new pie menu interaction called “Master Controls…”. These interactions turn on/off and enable/disable every utility on the active home lot at one time.

Script Namespace

If you want to turn another object into a utility, open your desired object in s3pe and replace the current script name with the following:

Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.Twinsimming.Utilities.Thermostat

Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.Twinsimming.Utilities.Radiator

Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.Twinsimming.Utilities.AirConditioner

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 2, The Sims 3, and The Sims 4, Around The Sims 3 for meshes, SimPE, Visual Studio 2019, Sims4Studio, Blender, Milkshape, TSRW, ILSpy, s3pe, Notepad++, and Gimp.

Thank You

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[sadsongsandwaltzes]

I’ve noticed an overwhelming trend of 20 something/early 30s not adapting well to parenthood, and motherhood specifically (woman to woman, here)

This is the first generation of now adults that have been raised with a default state of rest. The concept of working and doing what needs to be done from sunrise to sunset is foreign, so something as demanding and difficult as motherhood seems overwhelmingly impossible.

If you view life as your default being watching TV and checking off a few things from a list during the day, you surely aren’t going to adapt well to that which forces you to actively live. It’s a complete lifestyle switch — to a life where you must do everything intentionally, even rest. Which is by far a better way of living, but it has been robbed from these younger generations.

And adding to the problem is lack of community. Folks are herded through life like cattle with little interaction with those outside their own age. They don’t have an older, wiser guide to follow through life, neither do they know how to make sense of the little ones. Enter all the atrocious baby and parenting books that do no good but cause stress and confusion for these young parents, but they eat them up because they have no other point of direction through parenthood. They’ve never really cared for the little ones outside of a four hour Saturday night babysitting gig a couple times in high school. They’ve never had to manage a household. They can hardly manage themselves.

And while this post is about a concerning trend of parents not being able to raise their own kids, it’s really just one symptom of the larger problem that I’ve already pointed out: we no longer actively live as much as we passively exist.

There are more and more people who are amazed at the concept of Actively Doing all day.

And I speak with such authority here because it’s a mindset shift I’ve lived through. I can get done in one morning what used to take me a week. And I have hobbies. And I have been learning new skills. And I have more responsibilities. And I have had no trouble taking these things in stride as life has marched on since having this mindset shift.

A lot in life really does come down to mindset. And that is the problem plaguing folks my age and younger.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey !! i saw your batboys headcanon thing ( plus jaime ) about how clingy they would be ,, but do you think you could write a reaction for them ( and jaime if you'd like as well idm ! ) to if they dated someone who wasn't that fond of physical touch / affection ?

like how it would affect the way they show their love and stuff !!

thank you so much, love your works xx

For DAMIAN nothing much would change, after all physical affection isn’t his forte and completely understands why you don’t like it as much, for he certainly didn’t unless it was the occasional heat of the moment type of thing; then he’ll act like he never did hug/ touch you with flustered cheeks.

Damian’s primary love language was acts of services with a minor in gift giving because he always comes to you with a drawing he’s done recently, and practically pushed the piece of paper into your hands where you were greeted with the most beautiful sketch of you in existence. He’s not great with words as he often comes across as blunt or overly sarcastic, but when he’s reprimanding you about appropriately clothing yourself for the weather as he’s adjusting your scarf or whatever, it’s a sweet act disguised as annoyance.

Damian shows his care in a unique way but you could’ve have asked for a better partner.

For JAIME he respects that physical contact may not be your thing and will resort to vocalising his affection and love for you. After all Jaime came from a household of familial love and affection, so he wanted you do something for you where you knew where his mind was most -if not- all the time; on you.

He will shower you and praise you with love no matter what and will not allow a single negative thought to pass through your pretty head, not on his watch and Khaji-Da will gladly offer their own words of affirmation but they come out as more ‘crush your enemies to dust’ or ‘show them that you are far better then those weak willed insects and will not submit to their own self projection.’

You understand where Khaji-Da was coming from, even if it did come across as threatening, but Jaime will always reword it into something more positive and meaningful such as; ‘you’re amazing and I love you, you’re killing it my love!’ Or ‘you already know your worth so why let others people try to determine it for you when you’ve already go what most people want. Heart, passion!’ And so on.

For JASON physical touch was his way of reassuring himself that you weren’t going to leave, that you were alive. So when he found out that physical touch wasn’t your most favouriting thing, he was more than willing to resort to his secondary love language; quality time.

Jason loves spending as much time with you as he can and will do so as a substitute for physical contact out of his love and respect for you and your boundaries. If anything quality time with you also helps in reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere and that you were alive, even when your both sat in comfortable silence doing your own things, it relaxes Jason’s oftentimes frantic mind and allows him to breath and live in the moment knowing that you were very much safe from all harm in your shared apartment.

For DICK physical affection was his primary love language and he loved letting the people he loved know he was there for them by a few simple touches, it didn’t require him to use his words, despite being quite the flatter for when he did.

So when he noticed that you weren’t exactly reciprocal of his touch, Dick knew he had to switch to his secondary love language which was words of affirmation, which often came out a lot flirtier then it probably should, but Dick was use to doing so just to get on someone’s good side and get them to lower their guard but never towards his adoring partner whom he cares very much for with his whole heart.

Vulnerability, communication and commitment weren’t his strongest suits unfortunately but he tries for you, he truly tries with every sweet word that left his lips to make you recognise that you and a place within his heart, and that’s all that would matter in that moment as he’s looking at you with such caring and loving eyes.

[i-yap]

Can I get your thoughts on a gn reader who’s dating Grayson and is like a parent figure or older sibling to Damien, so they have a soft spot for him ( so does Damien ) ?

Dick grayson x gn!y/n x platonic!Damian

this is my first time writing a gn reader so like I'm sorry if I write something stupid or offensive, just comment it and ill fix it.

if you are dating dick then damian will stalk you extensively at first. Dick is his favorite sibling ( in most comics) and if dick is serious about you, stalking is just how the batfam shows love.

He will be rude , he will be mean and sarcastic but dick warned you and you understand where dami's coming from. So you kindly and patiently deal with him and dick obviously doesn't let Dami cross the line when it comes to you.

One night dick had to rush out for a really scary mission and told you to stay at the manor because its the safest place to be.

Damian was the only other person that was left behind since the mission required everyone else on the team and bruce did not think damian was ready for such a high risk mission just yet.

so damian was really frustrated and also worried for the rest of the family. you walk past Dami's room to see him staring off in the distance while fidgeting or biting his nails. You ask alfred for a chess set ( or any other board/card game) and bring it to dami's room. While playing , he opens up about his frustrations and you patiently listen . Not a lot of people in his family are as warm and caring as you are ( maybe dick but even he is really busy)

After that night the roles are reversed. Now damian thinks dick is undeserving of you and his snarky comments are directed to him. You just find it funny while dick is left confused. "I thought he liked me more man, why the sudden switch?" " he got enlightened dickie boy muhahah" " you are mind controlling him arent you"

One-on-one time in the manor- haha dick wishes. So he tries only calling you when dami is at school or training or patrol. ofc you and dami catch on soon which means you and dami chasing him with katanas.

talking about katanas, dami loves showing you his art and his pets and if you share an interest in either of them he gets even more excited.

you and dick become dami's honorary parents. might as well adopt him since bruce and talia are obviously not doing a very good job ( in most comics) .

whenever dami is mad at bruce or simply upset or bored he comes to you and dick's apartment. You and dick are the fun warm loving couple that spend the night playing board games and watching stupid movies . you introduce him to all the major pop culture shows and movies and dick teaches him how to just dance randomly. your apartment is so different from the gloomy , filled with blood stains, fights and training manor. its filled with music and love and warm lights cooking together in funny pjs and dancing badly to pop songs.

it is watching you and dick that dami realizes what love is supposed to look like. and what a normal household looks like( sort of normal) and it affects the way he grows up. I wont be surprised if he comes to you for parents teacher meeting days or to sign his field trips or for advice on normal things

and the canon where dami is being bullied in school, while you go full on protective mode ,dick tries teaching him how to be better in social situations.

overall dami is just counting down days dick marries you and you'all unofficially adopt him.

[prettyoatmeal]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons While You're Dating

I figured this would be kinda cute since I've only written for König. Switching it up just a little bit since I think the 141 boys are cuties <3

I know this is quite long too, I'm sorry I had a lot of thoughts I wanted to get out!!!!!

There will be both SFW and NSFW with a GN reader (they/them pronouns) ^^ Enjoy!

GENRE: Fluff, smut after NSFW cut

WARNINGS: Mentions of Ghost's childhood

Masterlist here!

***************

You'd needed to be the one to tell him how you'd felt first. Simon wasn't one to open up about his emotions and mostly tried to ignore and bottle up his feelings, so he never would've been able to gain that courage to tell you first.

When you did tell him, he became super flustered behind that mask of his. You normally called him by his alias and never really used his actual name, so he knew what you were going to say would've been serious.

"Hey, Simon? I think I like you. And I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just figured I should tell you sooner than later."

...

"Simon..?"

He would let out a flustered grumble of "Yeah yeah,, I like you too." and you two would slowly, but surely, warm up to each other more.

He'd be a very gentle lover. Just the thought of him hurting you, even by accident, made him violently ill.

Ghost wouldn't be one to be touchy very early on in you guys' relationship, he kept a lot to himself and you respected that. At times you would hold back from trying to hug him, or hold his hand, or anything, but you didn't mind. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable.

He'd soon realised you were the cuddly, touchy type, so he'd begin making moves like wrapping his arm around your waist or linking his pinkie with yours while you were walking. Just those small touches alone would make your knees weak.

Simon faced a lot of trauma in his childhood so he had trouble opening up to you at first. Once he did start opening up to you, he realised he didn't need to ignore his feelings for once. You made him feel safe.

>:'(( he loves you so much.

He'd call you all the usual pet names such as 'my love', 'darling', 'sweetheart', etc.

You'd often be the only thing on his mind when he'd be on missions or back in the barracks.

He'd always keep a printed photograph of you in a pocket somewhere so he could remember who he was fighting for.

When he'd be upset, he'd always pull that photo out just to look at it. Just seeing your face brought him immense comfort.

His love language would definitely be acts of service. He'll gladly cook a nice meal for you, or tell you to sit down and relax so he could take care of the cleaning.

However, it goes both ways. You'll pack him a lunch for the day He'd be on his knees. Make his bed for him if he were to be too busy? He'll completely melt. It's those little things.

His father didn't care all that much for him as a child coming from an abusive household, essentially needing to take care of himself. Having that someone to pack him a lunch and look after him in such a way made him feel loved and safe.

Of course he'd never take his mask off in front of you. He never took it off for anyone, there were no hard feelings. He preferred his anonymity and you are completely okay with it.

You never asked to see him without the mask because

well,

you just didn't. That was his privacy and you weren't one to invade it unless he would offer or if he were to be ready.

You two were both very patient with each other and that helped build a healthy and trustful relationship.

You also didn't mind not knowing what he really looked like. You first fell in love with who he was as a person, not his physical attributes.

When he did show you what he looked like unmasked, it was ironically during a make-out session.

(He low-key planned it out)

"Bloody hell, this thing is getting in the way." He'd say as the balaclava kept slipping down and shielding his lips from yours.

Thats when he finally pulled the felt which covered his features off, taking you by surprise.

The face-paint was still there, but his beautiful features were completely exposed to you.

He definitely got flustered at just how much you were examining his face.

"You look like you've seen a Ghost, darling."

That snapped you out of it, earning a chuckle from you before you two were sucking each others faces off again without that irritation from the fabric.

While nothing was said in the moment, by the time you two were done, you'd already begun to gush about how handsome he looked. You'd cup his face in your hands like he would to you and place kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks, everywhere. He'd just look away in embarrassment.

"Yeah, yeah, take a picture, it'll last longer... PLEASE DON'T-"

The hard, confident Simon you knew became a blushy idiot and you loved it.

He was your Simon

__________________

NSFW

Before you two had any 'alone time' together, he'd always make sure there's a large water bottle or an electrolyte drink on the bedside table because, man, his guy has a lot of stamina and a high sex drive.

He could easily shoot a some loads into you over the course of a couple of hours.

You couldn't count how many times he'd make you cum over those few hours as you'd be a babbling mess by the end of it. No thoughts, just getting dicked down.

He wasn't exactly rough, but definitely not gentle. He'll be pounding into you like it was your last nights together for a while. And yeah, sometimes it was, so you two would need to make the most of it.

He wasn't one to inflict physical pain to you either unless it was the occasional slap on the ass or thighs.

He was one to grab onto you though. He'll grab onto any piece of your body he can.

Doggy? Bent over a table? Riding? He'll be digging his fingers into your fleshy hips.

Steamy make-out session? Or just feeling possessive? He'll gladly grab onto your thighs or wrap his arms around your waist.

The boy loves holding onto you, especially when he's in heat, leaving maybe just a few red marks from him gripping onto you so tightly. Maybe even a few scratch marks.

Missionary would definitely be his favourite position.

He'd be able to stare into that pretty face of yours for eternity if his life depended on it.

Missionary also lets him hold your hand as he pounds you into the mattress. The feeling of you squeezing his hand as tightly as you can while you cum makes him go absolutely feral.

Simon wouldn't make all that much noise in bed. Though when he's feeling desperate, he can't shut himself up. He'll let out soft moans and groans and growls into your ear just to let you know how good you're making him feel.

He also would love seeing your mouth full of his cock. The faces you'd make up at him as it slides down you throat could make him cum instantly.

Moan his name and he will also cum instantly.

"Oh, fuck- Simon~!"

He'll start pounding into you like never before, chasing both of your orgasms.

He’ll always make sure that you’re left satisfied. No point in pounding into you if you’re not going to be enjoying it the entire time.

He'd probably cum a lot too. Thick strands would shoot inside you or into your mouth, struggling to stay inside. He'd probably have a thing for pushing his fingers inside your hole to make sure his cum stays inside you.

He's a top and a soft dom so he'd have a bit of trouble getting used to bottoming and/or subbing. He wouldn't turn it away, not for you. But it would need some getting used to for him.

If he's subbing, you could very easily get him to start begging once he gets lost in the pleasure. Though he'd definitely feel embarrassed after. He's a grown, dominant, military man who engages in the most brutal and gore-y activities. He wouldn't have ever believed himself a couple of years back if the future Simon had told him he'll be begging his partner to let him cum as they jerked him off in the slowest, most torturous way.

If you two hadn't seen each other in a while, he'd be pushing you against the wall in an instant with your thighs on either side of him. He'd be practically begging you again to let him fuck you, and you'd of course let him.

Breeding kink? For sure. He LOVES to cum inside you and fill you up.

"F-Fucking hell, look at you, doll, completely stuffed." He'll say as he cums into you for the third or fourth time that night. Your entire body would for sure be shaking at that point.

Of course he’d be affected by the overstimulation as some point as well, he’d begin stuttering every now and again each time his cock would throb inside you.

He'd slam into you with such force, you'll be sobbing tears of pleasure by the time you two were done.

You'll often become extremely tired from sex from the sheer amount of stamina this man has, it can't be said enough.

This man will gladly take you to your limit, but the moment you show signs of passing out or feeling unwell, he'll stop and make sure you're okay, giving you some water and something to boost your blood sugar so you’re not passing out on him. He's not one to take such advantage of you while you're unconscious, and you respect him a lot for that.

Post-sex includes so much cuddling. He'll apologise for accidentally hurting you or if he was too rough and make sure you're all cleaned up and had water before you two head to bed or for a nap.

Post-morning-sex would include him bringing breakfast to you in bed which you thought was the most adorable thing ever.

Your legs would be jelly by the time you two were done, so just trying to make it to the bathroom would be a whole challenge.

Simon would always either carry you or provide you will that stability, it was sweet. He'd hold onto your waist as tightly as he could to make sure you wouldn't fall while your knees would give in.

He was very buff so it would be pretty easy to keep you from falling to the ground.

He'll make sure you're all squeaky clean, hydrated, and fed before anything else.

He truely was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

***************

I loved writing this so much, I'm about to go scream into my pillow. Goodnight, everyone <3

[eddiernunson]

Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

Prev | Next

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which just so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), multichapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, no use of y/n, use of marijuana, perv!Eddie, this chapter has some forced proximity, tension and uh oh feelings.

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin colour, body shape/type

Word Count: 3.7k (it’s the shortest one, I promise I’m so sorry 😭)

Chapter 2

The first thing you did when you got into Eddie Munson’s little red corvette was peel the window open, claiming you had just needed some fresh air. It was true, as his scent had choked you as soon as you sat down on the dark gray leather seats. It’s strangely intoxicating, an odd mix of smoke, woodsy, and pure man that has you wanting to take a big whiff like some little pervert.

Strangely even from the window of a rockstar’s corvette the little town looked no more glamorous than it did from your beat up car, the small town feel of it all suffocating as you fill with gratitude you managed to get out. He finally pulls in front of a three story apartment, white walls and balconies so small they make you claustrophobic.

“Uh, how are we supposed to fill this small car with all your uncle’s stuff?” You ask, peering into the backseat as you undo your seatbelt.

He smiles, his eyes momentarily switching between the backseat of the two door car and you. “My van is in the resident’s parking lot, it should have plenty of room to move stuff over.”

“So, donation, your place and your uncle’s place, I’m guessing?” You ask, walking a step behind him to the front door of the building.

“Pretty much. It just comes down to going through it which I know, will be a fucking pain.” He reaches your eyes, giving you a small smile. “Thanks for coming.”

You didn’t have much of a choice.

“Not that you had much of a choice,” he adds as he opens the apartment door, a small bout of laughter filling the halls.

Okay, that was weird.

His uncle lived on the first floor in the corner room in a furnished spot, so all it came down to were the knicknacks he had collected over the years. You didn’t think that’d be so bad until you walked in, your eyes landing on wall to wall collections of mugs and hats and other tiny sentimental things.

“Pretty sure we’re going to end up donating most of the mugs, he doesn’t use them anyway, it’s the hats he’s been fighting tooth and nail for,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing a moving box you haven’t noticed from a stack in a pile against the wall.

“How’d those get here?”

“My assistant brought them with the van,” he explains, setting the box up. “He’s hanging out around town until we pack the van up.”

“Must be nice to have an assistant to take care of that shit,” you muse, your voice only the teeniest bit bitter about it.

He passes you the box, his shoulders shaking in laughter. “I’m aware it sounds pretentious. I only hired him when I kept losing track of which fucking thing I had to do next. Interview, show, interview, photo shoot…it was fucking never ending at times. Sometimes I needed a reminder to fucking eat.”

You grab the box from him, ignoring the twinge in your gut as you walk up to a bookshelf in the corner of the small living room containing many little things. You know time is of the essence, but you can’t help yourself, leaning over to analyze the display his uncle had created. There’s a photo in the center in a simple wooden frame, a gruff older man who you supposed would be Wayne standing arm in arm with Eddie, a much younger, freer Eddie, at least, standing outside in front of a forest area.

Eddie has his hand on his hip, squinting his eyes against the sun with his uncle's arm wrapped around his shoulder. If you’d looked closer, you’d see their reddened faces, blotchy from tears shed but both gritting their teeth for the picture.

“That was the day I left for LA,” you jump at his voice, holding your chest tightly as you turn to look around to face him.

He’s still across the apartment, wrapping the mugs and storing them in a tupperware box. “I have never seen him cry like that in my life. I was scared shitless.”

You avoid his stare, the starry eyed version of him something you’re not quite used to, something stirs deep in your gut that you find oddly unsettling.

In an attempt to ignore it you look closer at the knick knacks surrounding it, suddenly realizing it was just Corroded Coffin merch, tickets, and even demos. “These would be worth a pretty penny,” you turn over the tape in your hand, imagining a rough draft of Eddie’s untuned, inexperienced vocals. “To you, they must be priceless.”

“I could release them if I’d really wanted to, but the songs suck and my voice was even worse,” Eddie shrugs, still moving mugs into their different boxes. You notice how much fuller the one on the left is, Eddie making actual progress in comparison to your dilly-dallied snooping.

“I bet Wayne still wants this.” You sigh, placing the memorabilia gently in the cardboard box, admiring the faded ink from ticket stubs over twenty years ago. The following shelf had a full row of dark fantasy novels, every spine cracked to oblivion with yellowed crinkled pages. “Do you want these?”

Eddie looks over, absentmindedly wrapping a mug when he double, triple takes, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas. “Oh I thought he threw those away!”

Suddenly the scent of his cologne invades your nose again as he leans right next to you, grabbing at one of the books on the shelf with a giddy grin. “I used to reread these all the time.”

“Princesses needing rescuing in some odd faraway land?” You tease, turning the dark green book over in your hand.

“Usually with some kind of twist,” he hums, analyzing the back of his paperback as he squats his ass an inch over the floor. “Dragons being in cahoots, noble knights acting selfishly, evil kings turning out to be righteously good… there was always some sort of twist,” his narration turned dramatic as the sentence moved on, a story teller’s voice.

It reminded you of one specific fun fact. “Uncle Dustin said you were his dungeon master in high school, were these any inspiration?”

Eddie’s brows furrow deeply, jerking his head as swivels sharply upward. “Somehow it’d slipped my mind that you would know Dust.”

You nod absentmindedly, taking in the fantastical names in the description. Lysandra the princess, Eletha the fae, King Alistair… “Unfortunately.”

“Hmm,” he peeps, fluttering through the pages. “Aah, Sorceress Nyrinn teaching Lysandra basic magic, this takes me back.”

You smile down at him, how his dimples are deeply embedded in his cheeks and his front canines peek from behind that wide grin as he skims through his harlequin equivalent chock full of fantasy and adventure.

“Any of these girls you’ve ever fantasized about rescuing?” You tease him, starting to toss the books in a box labeled Eddie Home. He remains silent, even a pink tinge dusting his ears. “I was joking, sire.”

“Just keep packing,” he grumbles, tossing the book carelessly into your very organized box. “I’m gonna go take a quick smoke break.”

You find yourself fallen into an easy pattern, having figured out what Eddie’s looking to keep very early on. He’s even willing to go through the boxes that have been long stored at Wayne’s apartment, insisting they don’t need any dead weight, not in Wayne’s small sized room, and not lugged across a few state lines back in LA.

One of the boxes stored in Wayne’s closet seems like it was just thrown together until you realize they were all belongings of a teenage boy. A soft smile graces your face as you imagine Wayne unable to part with the little part of seventeen year old Eddie he still had with him, even if it’s his messy room thrown into a box.

You pick up a small shoe box, the items clunkily jumping about when you shake it. It’s only logical that the box should hold a few dozen player’s dice and painted figurines. The box’s heavy weight is largely contributed to by the worn out and outdated version of the player’s manual.

You take note of the sticky notes curled and faded peeking out of the pages, messy scrawl noting a page Eddie must’ve used for referral once or twice.

One set of dice had a familiar red and plank pattern, painted to look like his prized guitar. You smooth your thumb along the ridged paint, putting the box aside for Eddie despite the protests he will so obviously yelp out.

He deserves to be a bit more forgiving of that side of himself.

There were a handful of items you picked up and put aside for donation, a few old music tapes, a guitar string placement poster, until something catches your eye; a well loved classified notebook.

Now, you might’ve been wrong, but you always had the feeling that Eddie wasn’t too interested in his school work, all items from his locker having been tossed in the garbage the moment the last bell rang each year. As you tentatively open the book, you realize it was probably the one thing that kept him going back.

Each lined paper was filled with his messy scrawl, an intriguing combination of cursive and print, extensively detailed plans for his run as, so Dustin called him, a vindictive and tyrannical dungeon master. Across the scrawl were doodles, well shaded pencil drawings of creatures and classes alike. One page caught your eye towards the end, a full page of scattered doodles that seemed eerily familiar to you.

“Wow.” You look up to face Eddie leaned against the door frame with his arms across his chest, his eyes trained on the notebook in your hands. “I haven’t seen that in a while.”

You glance back down to the page and its doodles, still trying to make sense of where you could’ve seen it. As if plucked out of thin air, a song starts playing in your head and it clicks. “Hey you used these doodles on an album cover.”

He nods, watching your hands gently touch the graphite on the paper. “You could totally donate these to a rock and roll museum; they'd think it's dope.”

Eddie shakes his head, as if the idea was ridiculous. “No one wants to see my ratty old notebook filled with my dateless evenings. There’s not even a single lyric in there.”

“But this is on one of your albums, isn’t it?”

He nods, smiling softly at the abstract doodles before glancing up to you. “I don’t want it, I would never look at it. Take it, if you want.”

You were already tempted to steal it, the notebook having a scent that’s so specifically Eddie with an added elixir of teenage boy added to the mix making maybe your one true Kryptonite. “Whaaaaat? Why would I take it?”

“Steve said you’re a fan of our music, yeah?” You nod meekly, still tracing the graphite. “Well if not, it's going in the trash.”

You put it in your purse.

Since your father left that morning, so did the tether that kept your head on straight, any lingering ideas kept at bay as you kept a safe distance. It was gone.

Keeping a safe distance as an act of self discipline all but seemed moot when your dad offered your services, now stuck in a tiny apartment working around Eddie as his gentle voice hums to the music blasting through his phone.

Maybe a dress isn’t the best choice to wear for manual labor such as packing and moving boxes, the length obviously not long enough to cover the bright underwear. Maybe it's the little allowance you give yourself to indulge in defiance against your own rule. Regardless, it was safer to stay as far away as possible.

Fate proves herself to be a cruel mistress as you find yourself on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab something on a shelf you wondered why someone elderly had a shelf stored so high on the wall, and you smelt him before you felt him, reaching to the shelf’s level to grab it for you.

“Why the hell did he have a shelf this fuckin’ high for?” He huffs, tossing the hidden box onto the bed.

He steps away as fast as he came, leaving the room with a few boxes you had packed and ready. The moment clouds your brain, his strong torso completely against your back, his hot breath on your neck as he stepped away. What the hell?

Your heart pitter patters, your whole body frazzled while you put a few more boxes by the door.

As you’re leaning down to pick up another box you hear Eddie swear loudly down the hall in disgust. He uses the lord’s name in vain several times, rubbing his hand on his pants as his face twists up in utter revulsion when you peek out to see the culprit.

“Somethin’ gross? I don’t see anything wrong with this picture,” you comment, looking around his setting for what might have set him off.

“Don’t–” his hands fly up to prevent you from taking another step. His overly wide eyes and panicked state would usually have you laughing if you weren’t so curious to what could possibly send him into this frantic state of disgust. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

“Now I really do want to know,” you insist, still scanning the room.

“No. You don’t.” He shakes his head solemnly, his foot slowly shuffling slightly to his left. “Seriously.”

“Can I at least have a hint?” You plead, knowing the possibilities will drive you crazy all day.

“I just found a box of my old clothes,” Eddie starts, gesturing to a kaleidoscope of different shades of black with an occasional band font, unfolded as if thrown in a hurry.

He obviously is hinting towards something, but you need some more exposition. “...Ok?”

Eddie pauses to think, hands on his hips as he racks his brain for something. “Think of it this way. Think of the one item of clothing you don’t want to find under a teenage boy’s bed, twenty years later. Especially twenty years later.” He shudders again.

The one thing…oh. “Oh my god,” you giggle, hiding your obvious glee over his disgust behind your hand. “A…sock?”

Eddie nods slowly, nodding his head in what must be mortification. “Uh huh. I am burning this whole bucket of clothes that just–” he shudders, his left foot inching towards where you had to now guess what must be an absolutely petrified cum-sock lies, “marinated in it.”

A bout of laughter passes through your lips again, disguising the odd intrigue you found yourself in. You might be more perverted than even you initially realized.

No, put away the thought of inhaling in the 20-year-old musk–

“Hey, do you mind helping me with this box? It’s ridiculously heavy,” Eddie gestures down the hall to a tote seemingly filled to the brim with random shit, the sock supposedly tossed into the garbage by then.

“No problem.”

“You want me to walk backward?” He offers, reaching your eyes as you both bend over to grab at the awkward edges.

“Yeah that’d be great,” You cough, failing to ignore the cigarette on his breath just barely disguised by the mint.

Step by step you help him around the corners until you help lift the box into his van, refusing to allow yourself more than a singular moment lingering on how his arms bulge through the lift.

Wayne had a bedside table he hadn’t gone through, filled with momentums over the years. You grab one of the smaller boxes from the living room to hold them, wanting to take care of the things that Wayne had cared for. There were a few photos, Eddie in scattered years from an angsty teenager to a rowdy kid with a missing front tooth. It was obvious everything in his bedside would be moved back to Wayne, allowing him his precious memories of the boy he cared for.

Allotted between the table and the bed is a photo album, something you suspect is cover to cover filled with more photos until you get the glimpse of a brightly coloured pape, just a millisecond but enough to peak your curiosity.

By the second page you’re in tears, softly sniffling at messy scribblings with silly puns and elaborate doodles.

“Hey, when you get a sec–” Eddie stops mid-sentence, taking you in on the bare bed as you weepily turn a page. “You okay?”

“Oh,” you wipe away the tear that was shed, embarrassed. “I’m fine. It’s just— it’s so obvious he went through this a lot, some pages are worn out.”

“Let’s see,” he holds his hand out for the photo album, a drop of weight on the bed as he peers shoulder to shoulder with you as he reads over the pages in front of you. “Oh, wow.”

You put the book in his outstretched hands, watching his expression turn misty as well. The deceitful photo album is an album of father’s day cards, about twenty of them all lined in a row with Eddie’s well wishes in each one.

“I started sending them when I was 25,” he mumbles, his voice wet as he turns a page. “I figured since he raised me n’ all, he deserved the title and the recognition.”

“Seems like he felt honored,” you comment, watching page by page.

“I picked these cards out in less than a second but he puts them in a pressed fucking photo album,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Wayne is ridiculous. But he’s always been my biggest supporter.”

Impulsively, you nudge your chin on his shoulder affectionately, watching him flip through the last through the final few pages. You wondered if his vulnerability making you even crazier for him would be an isolated incident.

God sure had a sick sense of humor when he tied emotion and lust for women.

Turns out, you two work remarkably well together because by the time Eddie places the photo album in the box with a not so subtle sniffle, Wayne’s room, kitchen, and livingroom are all packed up and ready for distribution. The things going home with Eddie and to Wayne’s room are in the van stacked like tetris with your very ‘helpful’ commentary and the donations are piled up by the front door waiting for their collection.

The little red corvette has been sitting in the hot sun for a few hours by the time you’re back into it, ready for a night off your feet.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Eddie comments, taking a turn away from your house.

Your stomach growls at the mention of food, still only two slices of toast being the one thing used to sustain your appetite for the day. “I could definitely eat.”

“Good, I need to thank you for your help.”

You avoid his intense gaze from the corner of your eye, staring holes into your thighs. “It was nothing–”

“What’s your favourite spot in town?” Eddie seems to be ignoring your protests, meeting them with an exaggerated huff as if you were acting foolish.

“I don’t mind if you take me to the nearest one, Munson. I’m starving,” you insist, laughing at the manic shaking of his head.

“I’m not taking you anywhere except your favorite spot,” Eddie insists right back, without missing a beat.

No wonder he and Steve had managed to stay friends for so long, he matches your stubbornness step for step.

“Fine! Take me to Miss.Tina’s I haven’t had their burgers since I’ve been back,” you think back to their fully stacked burgers paired with their crinkle fries drizzled in mustard. You still haven’t been able to find a burger from a local restaurant near your campus that even rivals Miss.Tina’s recipe.

“Oh, I know you’re fucking with me,” Eddie laughs, taking the left turn at the traffic lights.

“Nope,” you inform him, shaking your head slowly. “It’s always been my favourite place in town.”

“Well call that dumb luck, because it’s my fuckin’ favourite place, too.”

“I take it back.”

You laugh at his deadpan, noting the new decor around the walls since the last time you’ve seen it.

“It’s not that bad.” It is, you’re just hoping he doesn’t leave because of the change.

“Are you shitting me?” Eddie deadpans, glancing around to the updated insides now turned into a hollow husk of a restaurant. At least, it certainly felt like the funeral march of your once beloved restaurant. “It’s a horrendous study in interior design. Who the hell paints the inside of a restaurant bright orange?”

“Ok, it’s that bad, but I just need a damn good burger.” You lead the way into the line, noting their updating point of sale. Last time you were there the employee had still been using a notepad, this time an iPad had been stationed on a stand.

The employee now wears some updated uniform barring the design, a bright smile on her face as she greets the two of you. Definitely not the deadened stare you were used to.

The mustard packet you received was a third of the size of what they used to be. It seems Miss.Tina’s has finally met empty corporate capitalism.

The decor might’ve changed, but the recipes remain as always untouched, a collective groan in satisfaction in your first bites in the tacky booth confirmation that Miss.Tina’s still fucks.

“If they change their recipe they are so screwed,” Eddie says exactly what you’re thinking between bites, wiping his face from the sauces that splatters his lips. As he wipes it off, you start to think of making out with him in the booth and lapping up and cleaning his messy face for him. Some real good messy make outs.

You nod, taking a sip from the large soda that must be at least 5 ounces smaller. “Oh, they’d shut down within the week.”

“This was one of the only few places where every group in Hawkins High could be seen, because they didn’t care when we loitered and Miss.Tina treated us like her own.” Eddie glances upward at a sign right by the table, NO LOITERING.

“That’s kind of really depressing,” you sigh, munching on your fry through a fucking wooden fork. “I am not sure I want these fries lathered in mustard enough to also add the taste of wood to it.”

“Plenty of wood has been tasted in these walls before,” Eddie smirks, raising his pierced brow when you choke on the following fry.

It’s like he prides himself on how he manages to make your brain short circuit so easily. Thankfully, years of being raised in the Harrington household has trained a keen sense of wit into you. “Judging on those princess books, Munson,” you take another sip, letting the beginning of your sentence settle in, “doesn’t seem like yours was one of them.”

The fry that bounced off your forehead the moment after was worth it, and the rosy pink that bloomed across his cheeks was even more so.

-

I have 99% done at this point I’m so excited for y’all to read it!!!

Main taglist: @arlxt @alastorssimp @mmunson86 @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

Taglist for Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways To Torture Him: @emxxblog @transparentenemypenguin @stylesxmunson @ali-r3n @mediocredreams @miaajaade @dreamerjj @prestinalove @pretty-pink-princess @alesiaaa @moonisu @love-anonymous-writer @marlena-marlena @bl1ssfulbaby @kellsck @rockmusiciscalming12 @eddie-munsonsbitch

[redr0sewrites]

Striker x Reader General Hcs

guysguysguys plsssss hes soooo- cowboys r a guilty pleasure of mine

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!striker, riding + face riding, oral, somno

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

striker never expected to have a real, long term partner, especially with his line of work

sure he's had hookups and flings over the years, but you really threw him off his feet

there was something about you that really dazzled striker, and he knew that you were the one

he dates to marry, and that is truly reflected in how he treats you

striker is a gentleman when he's courting you, he'll do the basics like holding the door for you and giving you gifts, but he somehow always finds a way to take it a step further.

you're both walking down the street and you have to step over a puddle? no need to worry, striker will scoop you up and carry you right over. you ran out of your favorite food while you're craving it? don't fret, striker will run to the store and grab it for you without a second thought

this is all before you both are even together! hes truly a sweetheart towards you, and it shocks everyone how you've managed to tame the wild assassin

striker definitely has a lot of nicknames for you, all circulating around his western class

poppet, sugar, darlin', doll, sugar, and lil' lady (if ur fem) are all ones you'll definitely hear

when talking about you to others, he'll call you "the apple of his eye" or other sappy things like that

he knows how dangerous his job is, and being associated with him can put you in danger. because of that, hes a little reluctant to court you, so he may give slightly mixed signals at first when hes feeling anxious about your safety

it wont take long for him to decide what he wants, but striker definitely wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself

even before you're together he offers you self defense lessons, and is always trying to keep an eye out for you to make sure you're safe

hes protective, but he also trusts you a lot and won't try to interfere with your life or anything, he just wants to make sure you're okay

underneath his tough persona, striker definitely has a soft, domestic vibe. as previously stated, he's the type to want to get married, and even if you don't, he still wants to have a good bond with you

hes a really great person to live with, he def is the type to cook and clean for you and overall carries his weight around the house

he sees it as a respect thing more than anything, and wants you to know how devoted he is to you and that he doesn't expect you to take care of him

he never forces you to do anything though, you can't tell me that he wouldn't absolutely despise people who force their spouses to cook and clean for them. he thinks relationships should be equal, and that you both should share the weight of household responsibilities

i dont think striker is the type to expect much from his partner if that makes sense? he would never want to put pressure on you to be with him or to carry any burdens. he knows how dangerous his job is, and will occasionally ask you if you're still comfortable with him and everything he does

everytime you say yes, he gets this wide eyed grin and ruffles your hair. a part of him is always afraid of pushing you away, its not easy to date a literal assassin, but the fact that you love him and that you want to be with him amazes striker every time

hes def an acts of service guy through and through, striker's actions always speak louder than anything

because his job is so busy, he sometimes works super late or has to get up ridiculously early. striker often feels pretty bad about his crazy working hours, and always dotes on you if you stay up late waiting for him and kisses you on the cheek everytime he has to leave

HE LIKES TO PLAY MUSIC FOR YOU ON HIS GUITAR AND HE'LL SING SONGS FOR YOU

striker also really enjoys dancing with you, and you two r definitely the type to slow dance in the kitchen sorry i don't make the rules

you're one of the few people he lets touch his cowboy hat, and also the only person who has ever ridden Bombshell besides him <3

he keeps a photo of you in his wallet/jacket and looks at it after rough missions

nsfw

yk the phrase "wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy"? or "save a horse, ride a cowboy?" yea those both were made for him btw

the cowboy hat stays on during sex, but not on him /hj

seriously tho, he loves the sight of you wearing nothing but his hat, and its one of the quickest ways to rile him up

striker LOVES and i mean LOVESSS when you ride him

theres something so exhilarating about seeing you on top, and after a long, stressful mission, there's something so pleasing about just letting you take the reins and ride him senseless

his fav positions are cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, face sitting, missionary, mating press, pretty much anything where he can see your face

striker is big on eye contact, whether hes top or bottom he loves the intimacy of eye contact

he memorizes everything about your body, what makes you tick, where to touch you that will make you moan loudest, your most sensitive spots, he has pleasuring you down to an art

def into bondage and shibari, whether its you tying him up or him tying you up, he loves it

striker likes the intricacies of shibari, but will always check that the ropes aren't too tight (unless you want it that way... in that case he'll indulge you ;)

he is soooo talkative, he loves praising you and degrading you and he talks you through every orgasm

when hes dom, striker is more of a groaner, he'll let out these throaty, deep rumbles and groans while whispering about how fucking good you make him feel in the deepest, most delicious voice ever

when hes in a more submissive mood i think hes a little quieter, he'll let out some breathy pants and moans but won't be super vocal

hes into (consensual) contact play and doesn't mind being pushed around. i also think he'd have a gun kink and would face fuck you with a gun (never loaded tho, you're far too precious to risk hurting)

ORAL FIXATION.

striker loves giving, like hes def a giver 100% and loves it when you ride his face

he wants you to SIT on his face, in his opinion his face is your throne and it doesn't matter how big you are, strikers a strong guy and will take all of your weight without a second thought

hes a gentleman, he makes you cum at least twice during foreplay before he even actually fucks you

striker is into somno, you both have def had convos about him fucking you in your sleep before

he comes home so late for work sometimes, and the sight of you sleeping on the couch, waiting just for him is so adorable

he likes teasing you and hearing you're unfiltered gasps and moans, the way your body responds to his simple touches without even being awake turns him on a lot

striker also loves it when you moan his name in your sleep, he has a secret possessive side and the fact that you're thinking about him even in your dreams is just so hot to him

sometimes though it'll be the other way around, he'll collapse into bed after a long mission, passing out in mere seconds. meanwhile, you creep into bed with him and give him a handjob, watching as he moans and whispers your name like a prayer. he'll hump into your hand, and sometimes he'll cum so hard he'll wake himself up

when you ask him what he was dreaming about he'll chuckle, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away

when hes sub, striker is like the male version of a pillow prince sometimes. he just wants to lay back and be pampered, theres a part of him that just wants to be loved and taken care of

....mommy/daddy/master kink... what? u hear sum?? i will write ab this...

hes a bit into semi-public sex, but wouldn't ever let anyone actually catch you both. you're body is for his eyes and his eyes alone

striker takes his time undressing you and kissing every inch of your body before the foreplay even starts, and sometimes his tail will rattle a little as he does so. hes just so enamored with you, he can't help it

guysgys GUYSSYYSYSYSYSY RUGERHEHEHSSBSSHSH I FUCKING LOVE STRIKER SM HES MY FAVVV!!!! ALSO HELLUVA BOSS IS OPEN FOR REQS !!

im not gonna make a separate masterlist for helluva boss im just gonna add this to my hazbin masterlist ahshsh

[barcaatthemoon]

"How about a kiss for old time's sake?" with Diana Taurasi please?

see you again || diana taurasi x reader ||

your time at uconn was often forgotten. it had been your ticket into the wnba, but it was your break from being a benchwarmer that solidified you as a household name level player. you went straight from uconn to san antonio. that was the only team you had ever played for, and when they made the switch to vegas, you followed.

the end of your career was coming, and you could feel it. the aches were getting to be overwhelming, but you had given it your all. you had sacrificed a lot to play basketball, and the announcement hadn't really shocked anybody who knew you. you had broken off the bench under the tutelage of becky hammon, and now you were retiring with her as your coach.

"i come back from winning a gold medal, and all i fucking hear about is that you're quitting." diana sounded bitter, and understandably so. aside from games, the two of you rarely spoke with each other. there was no interaction, nothing reminiscent of how you had been in college together. "fucking rookie."

"i'm nowhere close to being a rookie anymore di," you sighed. diana refused to look at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off of her. "i'm sorry for announcing when i did, but it would have come out eventually. i didn't mean to steal your thunder, it was supposed to be a quiet release."

"yeah, like the end of the wnba's ultimate underdog story could ever be quiet or subtle. you were the last one, who the hell am i gonna shoot shit with during games now?" diana asked. you knew that it was more than trash talk that she'd miss. the two of you never recovered from your breakup, not fully. the two of you still kept different friend groups with very little overlap because of how things had ended.

"the new girls are good, and besides, you should start looking to coaching at your old age," you teased. it wasn't completely a joke, not like it had been whenever you had first burst onto the wbna scene. diana had been your favorite senior during your first season at uconn as a freshman, so she had a few years under her belt when you were wallked on.

"shut the hell up. i heard your knees the whole game, sounded like a damn rusty door hinge." diana shoved you playfully. both of you laughed a little at her comment, easing the tension a bit. "i gotta get out of here now. how about a kiss for old time's sake?"

"find me when you're not mad at me anymore, okay?" you grabbed onto diana's jaw and pulled her in for a kiss. it wasn't quite the same as what you remembered, but there would always be an addictive familiarity when it came to diana for you.