#This is just my personal taste to spice up the game.

[kp-studios]

Since I've been playing Evade the Others more recently, and heard of the update, had to address the small problem with the music. It doesn't have any variety! It's probably because of copyright-- but still! had to add something. (Rat chase isn't in here, I think the chase scene is fine as it is.) Also it doesn't loop, so when the music is done, it's not playing again until you finish the task. The chase music does loop, so there's that!

[cetoddle]

i love the sims 2 community so much. everyone is so respectful and truly kind

[hanaeriin]

Hi hanae (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I was wondering, what type of girl would Mitsuki, Suo and Kaji would fall for? Like, what's their type and stuff. I don't mind if you add someone else to the list but I was kinda just curious and thought I'd ask you! Thank you so much🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

DREAM GiRL. suo hayato ,, kiryu mitsuki & kaji ren x fem!reader ノ fluff, sfw & some chit chat about what the boys want in their ideal girl.

NOTE. i will admit, this one took an embarrassing amount of time of me just debating with myself cuz it's my first attempt at writing with i instead of you and on top of that, my own opinions !!?- i hope you enjoy this still despite the late delivery ><!!

“ SUO HAYATO.

❣ okie, i personally think he's the type who absolutely loves a girl who can put up with him, he's the kind of man who prefers being in control yet he likes being on the edge at times. i think his ideal girl would be someone who is daring yet he also prefers if she's very expressionate and is very easy to get flustered because i could definitely see this man will leave you hanging after a makeout session just to see you come running back to him hours later. he's a menace, don't say i didn't warn ya.

❣ if i had to put a ship dynamic for this, i would say opposite attracts because i don't know how to explain it...i feel like he's the kind of guy who loves the idea of bantering with his girl because it will give him an excuse to waste your time on him and let me tell you...this man is enjoying every single second of it!!

❣ he's the kind of guy who will accept all your flaws and almost anything just make you for who you are.

“ KIRYU MITSUKI.

❣ is it bad that i believe that he has a soft spot for girls with creative mindset like artist, writer and so on. the best way to explain it is that creative people tend to be more open-minded or so how i would like to believe, he would definitely like it if his girl is pretty chill enough to hanging out with the boys and someone who is pretty confident about herself because that's what he wants for you, who doesn't want a girl who can stand up for herself and maybe be a little unhinged too? he thinks it's a part of your unique charm.

❣ for ship dynamic, i would say carefree guy x chaotic girl, being the gentleman he is...he always let you do whatever you want because he thinks it's entertaining how chaotic you can get, he's like your personal cheerleader, he likes watching you being all happy despite the questionable things you do sometimes...

❣ whether you're a gamer or not, he would be so happy to have a gaming session just between the two of you. in his eyes, it's another date but virtually;; at home and being all cozy with each other. you two are practically inseparable.

“ KAJI REN.

❣ despite how he is, i believe his ideal type is a girl who is absolute sweetheart and is very friendly with those around her. basically someone who is the cheese to his spice if you get what I mean...he wants someone who is patient with him because he's aware that whenever he can't control his temper, he is easily blind by rage. i think he also wants a girl who can appreciate music and it's even better if she has good tastes on songs, and don't tell him that i'm telling you this...but i think he would absolutely love the idea of his girl singing or even humming to the tune, he thinks it's adorable.

❣ the ship dynamic for this is... the grumpy and the sunshine, i mean it's pretty obvious but you know this guy will never admit it out loud... he's a natural protector and while he might not have the brain but i believe standing next to him will make you feel safe, but please keep him on a leash though because he will definitely punch a random dude that was bothering you, his fists are yours to use.

❣ he has a soft spot for his girl, if you ask him for his stuff, he will give them to you no question ask. he will literally do anything for you... even if it's a bit embarrassing sometimes.

© HANAERIIN. please do no repost, translate, copy or use any of my works on any platform/train ai.

[shoutydwarf]

veilguard spoilers !

literally None of these characters are above b tier for me except davrin and that's carried by him being a grey warden that doesn't need me to therapy speak him into being fixed.

sorry to be a toxic origins bro on main but my favorite characters are always the ones that don't recognize me as the player character pressing the buttons. their development isn't contingent on me making choices for them. they have opinions i don't agree with and which i can't change their mind on, a la vivienne/anders. alistair is one of my top companions because he has LINES in the motherfucking SAND. he will be your brother and/or your lover for the entire game but if you don't put his vengeance above your duty to the wardens, he will leave, if not attempt to seize power and force his ends. same for most all other origins and 2 companions (and inquisition to a lesser degree) - A. the option EXISTS to fundamentally piss them off to the degree they will want to kill you, and B. some of them literally WILL try to kill you. that's how roleplaying games are supposed to work. i am supposed to be a person in this world surrounded by other people in this world and i expect it to feel like that. moreso, i know they CAN make it feel like that, because they DID that in all 3 previous games.

there is no way to fail loyalty missions in VG. characters are so lukewarm that the guild of looting, pirating thieves exercises ethical tomb raiding and does monologue you about it. not a single one has any opinion that beckons you to use your brain cells. these characters do not evoke any emotion from me. i could write whole think pieces on why vivienne has the disposition that she does, why she thinks she's right, why i fundamentally disagree with her but still greatly empathize with her and consider her the best option for divine (out of 2 other companions that are just as complex). i have NOTHING to say about the veilguard companions. there is NOTHING to talk about here.

every single one of their villains are entirely one dimensional and unforgivable. THAT is the true disney aspect of the game. loghain, meredith, samson, calpernia, bhelen, branka, the architect, celene and gaspard, even fucking HOWE all have nuances and complexities to them that, even if you still end up at the conclusion that they're awful, you still have some things to think about. there are reasons leading up to their descents into cruelty and madness beyond just "me wanted power :p for fun :p"

this is also part of why davrin is the only memorable character for me; his villain was someone i knew and, frankly, the only interesting one out of the entire lot but only because she had an entire book's worth of setup. harding's was also great but because of the larger issue with zero catharsis for the titans, i have to kick her down several tiers with the rest of Mid Town.

don't get me started on the hardening system and how it can literally only happen to a single companion as a consequence to a single choice in the entire game. and then that 'hardening' actually has no bearing on their loyalty missions or, in neve's case, their romance.

the game does not make me think at all. it is designed to be consumed but not digested. there is nothing beyond the curtains. there is nothing to discuss. there is no nuance, no spice, no complexity, no grey areas. all that exists to talk about here is "i liked this part" and "i didn't like this part".

it is, like too fucking much of modern media, brain rot soup. and it doesn't even taste good.

[vibingandsimping]

Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.

Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!

Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.

Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash

Astarion,

If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.

He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.

He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.

As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.

He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.

A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.

Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)

A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.

We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.

As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.

He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.

He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.

Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)

Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.

He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.

Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”

When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.

[azrakaban]

I love the Smiths - Mattheo Riddle

A/N: It's short. I know. I'm just in shock. #4 in jkrowling?! HELLO? TYSM I LOVE YOU AAAALL

Summary: Mattheo finds a non depressing person who listens to the same depressing music as him

Music suggestions: Back to the old house (2011 remaster) - The Smiths, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - The Smith

Warnings: Mentions of drug use (not Mattheo or reader), cursing, fluff

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT DO DRUGS. I never have and never intend to, all descriptions of the effects of weed are brought to you from compulsory PSHE lessons (That's all I'm basing it off of so may be inaccurate) :) 

Pronouns mentioned: The reader has she/her pronouns, but feel free to change it in ur mind, it's not plot relevant xxx

...

Mattheo's POV

Sometimes all you need at the end of the bad day is rain and a smiths vinyl.

And fortunately for a certain younger Riddle son, that's exactly what he had. Well, that and a pack of cigarettes. 

He lit one as he sat back against the cracking stone bricks of the tower walls, just as A There Is Light That Never Goes Out came on. He exhaled the smoke, feeling partially guilty about the health effects he'd been so dubiously warned about by the posters plastered across the school walls. 

It's not like professor sprout didn't mean well by growing medicinal cannabis for some students, it's just that some slightly more raucous Ravenclaws and Gryffindors saw it as a personal invitation to get high. 

Not Mattheo though - he didn't like the stuff, knew it fucked with your head in the worst way possible, so he steered clear of it. He stuck to depressing 80s music to keep him happy. Ironic really. 

He looked up at the stars, trying to spot patterns before drifting off into his mind. 

'Because it's not my home, it's their home

and I'm welcome no more...'

"I love the smiths." Came a voice from the doorway, and Mattheo spun sharply. "What?" He said quietly. 

"I said I love the smiths." Came the voice again, and this time it registered with him that it belonged to a gorgeous girl standing in the doorway.

He grinned, returning the nervous smile on your face. "Yeah?? Well, you've got good taste then." He said, taking a puff of his cig. You flicked it from his hand with a small smile. He looked up at you, confused. 

"Why-?" He said, raising an eyebrow. 

"I heard you complaining about it in transfiguration earlier. At least, I think it was you. Sounded like your voice. It was a deep voice, whining something like 'Theo I wanna quit but you keep putting them on my bedside so I caaaaaan't.'" You imitated him perfectly, and Mattheo laughed. 

"Yeah, sounds about right." He said, smirking to himself. 

You laughed with him. "I imagined you looking at him the way a toddler looks at you before asking if you have games on your phone." You admit, smiling as you sit beside him. 

Mattheo stifled a laugh. "Really? I think I was more looking at him like how a kid looks at their parent before they ask them to watch them do something really bad, like a backflip that turns into an A&E trip." He replied, trying to light another cigarette. You flicked that one off the tower. 

He nodded, mouthing a quick thanks. You laughed. "I'll take those." You stole the cigarettes from his pocket, leaning across Mattheo. Instinctually, he sniffed, smelling your shampoo. You pulled back, looking confused.

"Did you just sniff my hair?" You said, half laughing. He flushed. "It was right there! What was I gonna do? Smelt good though." He acknowledged. "Some kind of spice?" He guessed. 

"Cinnamon." You replied, smiling. He ah'ed in acknowledgement, before he looked up at the stars. You mirrored him. 

"Look. Taurus." You pointed up at a cluster of stars. Mattheo looked up, not seeing anything. "Is it really?" He replied, raising an eyebrow. You giggled. "No idea, but it could be. Why, did it make me seem smart?" You replied, looking over at him.

"Will you push me off of here if I say no?" He laughed. You gently pushed him. "Debating it. If I push you I can steal your vinyl and player." You smirked. 

"Ah, but without me, you'd have no-one to listen to them with." He gently shoved you back. 

You nodded, agreeing with him. "True that."

He smiled, and you sat in silence for a while, before he broke it. "So, what brings you up here at midnight?" He queried, looking at you with a strange expression. 

"Friends. They're driving me insane." You replied, laughing a little. He nodded with you. "Same here." He sighed. 

You looked at him. "What did yours do?" He laughed. 

"Nothing much... they have good intentions it's just..." He grimaced.  "They're trying to set me up with this girl I've never met. She sounds great it's just... I want to know someone before I ask them out, you know? God that sounds corny." He groaned, and your mouth quirked, eyes seeing the stars but not registering them.

"No, I agree. Blind dates are awkward." You shuddered. "Have much experience?" He teased. You shook your head, smiling. "I'm going off of several cheesy rom coms." You shrugged.

"A romance girl hmm?" He smirked. You shoved him. "Loud and proud, tease me all you want, at least my standards aren't the bare minimum." He looked surprised. "It's not a bad thing you know. In my cheesy romance movies, the romance book girls tend to be the best love interests." He shoved you back gently as you gasped. 

"You watch romance movies?" You said quietly. "Don't give me that look, Blaise's mum loved them and I spent summers with them. You learn to tolerate them." He chuckled. You smiled.

"Do you have a favourite?" He gave you a look. "Don't be ridiculous."

You gave him puppy eyes and he relented. "10 Things I hate About you." You smiled happily. "Good choice." 

And then something hit you. "Did you call me a love interest?" He looked confused. "What?" 

"You said the romance book girls are the best love interests are the romance book girls directly after i said it. Do you see me as a love interest, Mr Riddle?" You teased, and he flushed again. 

"You know who I am?" He said quietly. You nodded. "Then why for Salazar's sake are you still here?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"You didn't ask me to leave, so why would I go?" You looked confused. He shook his head. "If you know who I am you've probably heard the rumours about what I'm like. That I'm like... him." You got the implication. 

"Well, you haven't tried to kill me, and you've had plenty of opportunities to push me off the tower, so I'd say you're pretty good in my books." You smiled. He gave you a weak one, clearly still processing. 

"So, do you see me as a love interest?" You repeated, smiling as he blushed slightly again.

"Maybe I do." He murmured. You smiled. "You're cute when you blush." You kissed his cheek before you stood. "Where are you going?" He said, looking crestfallen.

"I prefer to get to know people before I cast them as my love interest." You replied, smiling. 

"See you in transfiguration." And with that, you made your dramatic exit. 

He smiled to himself as you left, and sat there for a few moments in contemplation. What in the fever dream?

...

Mattheo was just leaving charms as he saw a head of (y/h/c) hair leave the history of magic classroom. He looked closer, spotting your gorgeous eyes that he'd been lost in the previous night. And then, in horrifying mortification, he realised he didn't know your name. 

"HEY! SMITHS GIRL!" He yelled, pushing past people to catch up with you, you span around, smiling. 

"Hi." He said a little breathlessly, and you giggled. "We umm, only listened to Side A of my vinyl last night, you wanna do Side B tonight?" He asked, crossing his fingers in his robes. You nodded, smiling, as his friends caught up. 

"I'd love to. But i don't want to keep you from your friends. Hey Theo." You waved to the guy standing behind Mattheo. Mattheo froze as Theo smirked. "Hi n/n. Mattheo, this is the girl I was telling you about. Y/n, Mattheo, Mattheo, Y/n. Though it seems you two are already aquainted?" He raised an eyebrow. 

You flushed. "A little." You murmured. Mattheo nodded sheepishly. "See you tonight, Smiths Girl." He smirked. 

"I have a name!" You called as he left with his friends. "SEE YOU TONIGHT Y/N!" He yelled back, laughing. Theo smirked at him. 

"Don't."

...

Over the next few weeks, you two grew incredibly close. Yapping about people, buried trauma... everything and anything that came up under the moonlight. 

"I love the moon." You said after a particularly deep talk, which had Mattheo nearly on the verge of the tears for the first time in he couldn't remember how long. He turned to you, giving you a sad smile.

"Why's that?" He murmured, watching your features illuminated by the light. 

"It's known you your whole life, through every bad fringe, through every cringy Twilight era, and still loves you. It still doesn't go away, except during the day, which is when the sun watches you. You don't need it then. But as soon as you do, it's there. It only goes when it has to, not because it wants to." You said thoughtfully. Mattheo chuckled slightly.

"Sure you're not over personifying it there?" He whispered, gently nudging you. You shook your head. 

"Look at that and tell me you don't think it can feel." Mattheo looked. And this time he saw. 

He saw what you saw in the moon. He saw what it represented in you. And he decided in that moment, he would stay. He would be your moon, if you would be his sun. But how could he tell you that? He couldn't, god no. 

So he just let his hand inch closer to yours, getting close, so unbearably close and then moving away, like magnets. 

"Y/n?" He murmured. You turned to look at him. "Yeah?" You whispered. 

He swallowed the words he wanted to say, instead opting for something that wouldn't probably make you turn and run away from him. 

"Thank you for telling me about you. And thank you for hearing about me." He said, giving you a small smile. 

"Don't thank me for something I'd willingly do whenever." You replied, watching the stars, and Mattheo wasn't sure if something inside him healed or broke. 

"You'll be the death of me." He chuckled lowly. You smiled. 

"I'd rather be the life of you." You replied, giggling before standing and going to leave. He reacted on instinct, grabbing your hand and pulling you back. 

"Stay? Please." He murmured, pulling you back down. You let him pull you, and found yourself sat between his legs, back against his chest, watching the stars. 

Another song came on, and you smiled. "I love this one!" You said, and stood again. For a moment, Mattheo panicked, before you held out a hand for him. 

"Dance with me?" You whispered, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Well, to Mattheo, your eyes sparkled all the time, but more under the starlight. 

He stood, smiling as he took your hand and fake bowed, wiggling his eyebrows as he gently rested his hands on your hips, pulling you a little closer. 

You smiled, dancing  in silence for a while before he spoke. "It's a little cold." He said, and you nodded, shivering a little. "Mhm." You said. Damn, you should have brought a jumper. He noticed you shivering. "Come here, y/n." He murmured, outstretching his arms for you. 

You hesitated, and he worried that he'd pushed you too far, before you conceded, moving into his arms. He rested his chin on your head, happy to be a source of warmth if it kept you happy. You snuggled into him and Mattheo physically felt his heart ache, like it wanted out of his chest and into yours. 

"Honestly, fuck you." He said, groaning. You looked up, seeming surprised. "What?" 

"You come up here, where I was fine alone, and share all these things, and  that make me share things that I haven't told anyone before, and what's fucking more, you don't make me feel bad about it, you help me, and suddenly I'm not fine alone, and I need you."

"And I don't like needing people, it just gets you hurt, but you're not like other people, and I'm okay with needing you, because everytime I see you, you heal some tiny part of me, and fuck you because I am so hopelessly, desperately, in love with you." He said, walking back and forth infront of you as you tried to process. 

"I'm sorry." You whispered, smiling. He groaned. "And now you're apologising for it, and you look so fucking pretty and all I can think about it how much I want to kiss you." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, damp from the rain, and a raindrop fell down his face like a tear. 

"You should. Kiss me I mean. I'd like that." You whispered, and you were barely through with your sentence before his lips were on yours, and you were kissing him, and his one of his hands was cupping your face and another one held your waist.

Mattheo kissed like a man starved, but oh god was it amazing. He kissed you, because you were his oxygen, his everything. 

When he finally broke apart from you, he grinned, then laughed softly, and so did you. 

"Merlin, I love The Smiths." He exhaled, still laughing quietly. You giggled. "Me too. But they share my heart with this one guy, can't think who." 

He laughed at that too. "Can't imagine who you'd be talking about." 

You smiled. "Yeah, it's this stranger I met on the astronomy tower, who likes the same music as me, and is super nice when you get to know him, and who i think loves me too. Oh, and he's also really cute." You added as an afterthought. 

"He's definitely in love with you, given he's usually a little shit to everyone else, including his best friends. OH SHIT. Theo. He's going to be so smug. We CANNOT tell him. I'm begging you." Mattheo fell to his knees, pleading with you in  mocking way. 

"Tell him what?" You smiled innocently, and Mattheo rolled his eyes. 

"That I am yours, Y/N, if you want me, and you are mine if you want that." He replied. 

You nodded. "I want that."

Mattheo kissed you at that, and before you left the astronomy tower, and before he said goodnight to you.

...

The next day, Mattheo saw you outside his charms class, and you shot him a smile. He gave up at that, walking over and giving you a short kiss, smiling into it when you kissed back before the two of you pulled apart. 

"What happened to staying secret?" You murmured, giggling at the surprised expressions of your friends and the surrounding students. He shrugged. "I love my smiths girl." There was a cough behind you, and you turned to see Theo smirking. 

"HA." Theo coughed loudly, his smirk growing more cocky by the second. 

"DON'T." Mattheo glared. 

"Okay, I won't, jeez." Theo put his hands up in mock surrender. 

Mattheo relaxed. 

"Just call me cupid." 

"SON OF A-"

A/N: WOAH. Azra uploaded twice within a month, is she okay? NO GUYS. I have a new crush. YIPPEE. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this crack fic and didn't cringe too much reading it. xxxx

REQUESTS STILL OPEN FOR ALL CHARACTERS <333

K THX BYEEEE

[random-fanfiction]

World Champion

Pairing : Max Verstappen x Black! Reader

Warnings : 18+ , Oral (Male Reciving) , Vaginal Penetration , Mild Name Calling , Under the table support

Summary : Max is streaming and you want to tease him.

Word Count : 1245

Notes : I have not reread this. Read at your own risk.“Possible grammar mistakes at every turn.” I honestly can’t reread my work and grammarly hates me so there will be errors.

Two weeks ago the 2024 season ended. Two weeks before that, Max won World champion, for the fourth time. Now it was time to be at home. With his girlfriend and relax. There wasn’t much to do so today he planned to stream after dinner.

His girlfriend on the other hand wanted to spice things up. She made dinner that night before Max got on his stream. They ate in a comfortable silence. They spent most of their day in bed together watching movies and after they finally got up Max lingered around while he waited for her to finish up in the kitchen.

You cooked silently, glancing up everyone and then to look at max. He was sitting at the kitchen island going through his phone.

“Hey baby, come taste this for me.” You singled for max to come over. It was a pasta day and you were trying to make a sauce you learned how to cook from one of those cooking shows you binged while he was away.

Max placed his phone down and walked over to take a sip from the spoon she held out for him. It was a cute moment between them. A few words were exchanged before eventually it was dinner. They ate in a comfortable silence.

It’s started with you running your hand through Maxs hair during the stream, your nails briefly shining peaking out that were inspired by the “M4X” design after he won the championship that you had yet to remove. The colors of dark blue and gold shone through and the chat blew up commenting your nails. They couldn’t see your face but everyone already knew, your dark skin and simple dress wear alerted everyone exactly who it was running their hands through Maxs hair.

You weren’t really paying attention to what he was playing, your eyes were on his hair and the small smile that was on his face when you started touching him.

“What game are you playing baby?” You’re voice was soft but even though you asked you were still mainly paying attention to him.

“Just FIFA,” he looked up at you just a little and leaned into your hand. “Why?”

“No reason.” Your eyes went to the chat box, reading what people were saying. As a person of color dating a Formula One driver was not easy. Some people hated you and some loved you. Some WAGs understood that more then others, but you got a heavier side. Its not that you were problematic, or messed but in that past, you were just black, and thick.

[username1]: Show us your nails!

The comments rolled in, that’s one catching your eye specifically, at first it the was the positive message, they couldn’t see you face still but you smiled. Scratching Maxs head before pulling your hand out of his hair and placing it on his shoulder so they could see your nails.

You liked the tints, Max was still oblivious until the current game was over and he looked over at the chat, a chuckle left his lips as he read through them. Until he straightened up and shook his head.

“We don’t do that here. Be polite.” His voice was lower. You could tell it was something that was going to upset you. You squeezed his shoulder before leaning down and speaking into the mic, a smile wide on your face.

“Let them talk, at the end of the day all that matters is what we think. Mwah, [username2].” That’s all you said before backing up smirking. “Have fun with your game baby.”

With that you walked away, or at least Max thought. His face was scrunched up as he went back to paying attention to the screen infront of him and not the side screen with the chat. You on the other hand sat on the couch off to the side behind him, waiting for him to be in the middle of a game before you could start your plan.

A few minutes by before you realize, it’s time. Getting up silently you move over by his desk, his eyes lasered in on the screen as you drop down to your knees and crawl under the desk he streams on. Your hands slowly slid up his thighs over his basketball shorts. You could feel Max jump slight but you couldn’t see his face at the angle you were.

A grumble could be heard from Max before he scooted his chair all the way forward leaning his arms on the desk as you pulled the front of his shorts down along with his boxers. He was already getting hard. His attention span on his game was getting shorter by the second especially when you finally wrapped your hand around him.

That’s when it happed a ragged deep breath escaped his lips. His eyes zoned onto the screen before quickly going to mute his mic, when he spoke his voice was low, “What are you doing?”

You hand moving in slow strokes as you chuckle slight, “Just pleasing you, baby.” It came out playfully but you were serious.

It progressed this way, until you could feel Max relaxing again, that’s when you decided to take it up a notch. Lifting your body to lick a stripe up his cock. That received a moan in response, so you did it again before light sucking on the tip. That was Max Final straw, after a hushed moan and a mild grunt he turned his mic on to announce his early and unexpected leave before shutting down his stream and making sure everything was off before pulling back from the desk and looking down at you. Rested on your knees under his desk looking up at him with wide eyes and a wicked grin.

That’s how you ended up face down on your knees in the middle of you bed. At this moment you were both completely naked. One of hands was pushing you down and the other was attached to your hip as his thrust only sped up. You moans were slowly filling up the room as Max started to talk to you, the first words since he told you to to strip.

“You like that? You like being used? As my slut.” His voice was low as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. “Want everyone to know what I look like while you suck me off?

A whine escaped your lips as you tried to nod. You were getting overstimulated, Max had taken it as his turn to tease you. Edging you on until now, he was finally giving you what you wanted.

“Speak.”

“Yes, Sir.” It was quiet and hardly audible once you pushed the words out but he understood.

“Good girl.” With that, he moved his hand that was pushing you down and started stimulating your clit.

The knot that was resting in your stomach was starting to unfold, but you knew better waiting for his permission, a little whisper in your ear telling you to go ahead was all you needed before you coming around his cock.

Max let you ride out your orgasm before he had both hands on your waist and continued his thrust until he was was nearing his own end. Pulling out as he released onto your ass and lower back. You both collapsed onto the bed and laid there in silence until Max got up to get a cloth to clean you.

[prolix-yuy]

Olive Branch

Pairing: Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: If Frankie doesn't like olives, then what does he like?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: T, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use, incredibly tame for me, hints of spice. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I was challenged by @happypedrohours to write a story involving Frankie and olives, and what do you know, these are two of my favorite things! I was snickering to myself the entire time as the olive metaphor rolled out, but what the hell, we're gonna keep it in! Enjoy my friends, and Happy Pedro Hours!

Cross-posted on AO3

When it slides in front of you, you know it’s a good one. You watched the bartender make one at the end of the bar and it was just how you like it. Dry, cold, three olives on a hardy metal toothpick. You were practically salivating by the time you ordered your own and it slid in front of you, shining like the Holy Grail.

“Didn’t know you liked martinis.”

Head whipping around, you stutter out a laugh as Frankie slides in next to you. He perches an elbow on the bar, free shoulder coming close as the crowd tucks you into each other. Your eyes dart to his crinkled brown ones, then to your drink, and back again to distract from the proximity. His hand is tucked into his faded jeans, but it wouldn’t take much to cup your elbow or wrap around your waist. 

“On special occasions,” you quip, tossing your head at Will and Tatiana surrounded by your friends. She’s showing the girls the ring, the men clapping hands on Will’s back and making him laugh. The air holds the fresh taste of new beginnings.

“Never had much of a taste for ‘em. Just gasoline in a glass,” he replies. Your face must be ten levels of indigent with how quickly his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do I look like a car to you?” 

Frankie’s eyes twinkle, and it flips your stomach.

“Definitely a hot rod.”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. He’s never serious, after all. He likes to ply you with compliments just short of flirty and leave you high and dry at the end of the night. The first time it stung so hard you didn’t go out with the boys for weeks. 

“He’s just a little fucked in the head, don’t take it too personal,” Santi told you when he finally wrestled the reason for your absence out. “Can’t stop chasing anything messy with two legs. Last girlfriend was a cokehead, even worse before that. He likes ‘em pretty and crazy, and he bags ‘em left and right. They always leave him worse for wear.” Santi’s eyes narrowed over his knowing smirk. “So now you like him?”

“Fuck no,” you spat out, arms folded tight. “I don’t deal with boys who play games.”

Yet here you are, again, with Frankie, ready to roll the dice yet again. At least he doesn’t know you’ve still got a soft spot for him ready to land.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you called Hendricks gasoline,” you scold, sliding your gleaming prize closer on its soggy black napkin. “There’s also vermouth, and olives.” You take a sip, the warmth of the gin and sharp salt of the charcuterie mainstay sweeping across your tongue. Frankie’s eyes drifting down to your lips on the rim of the glass.

What a cocktease. At least most men who eyefuck you actually follow through.

“Shaken, not stirred?” he quips in a rough approximation of a Scottish accent. You snort, instantly regretting it as the burn of brine and alcohol decimates your sense of smell. Trying to hide it under a tiny cough, Frankie’s face turns to the bar.

“Not much of an olive guy either, so you're 0 for 3 on convincing me.” 

You don’t know why, but your stomach sinks briefly as you gingerly twist the glass stem between your fingers. 

“Perfect, more for me then,” you shoot back brightly, but he looks back a fraction too soon before the disappointment flits away. 

“C’mon, you know you were never gonna change my mind,” he teases, jostling you with his shoulder as he motions for the bartender. 

“Never said I was,” you add absentmindedly. 

Frankie will never be an option. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t choose you. But sometimes, when you let your mind drift, you think about how it could happen. Some dark room where he finally finds something he’s been looking for. The brushing of noses and near-misses before one of you finally acts and you’d know what his lips feel like. Then he would lick into your mouth and his flavor would dance with acidity and botanicals on your tongue and he’d moan at how good you taste.

But he doesn’t even like olives. Or you.

Frankie’s drink is a golden lager, malt rising to your nose. You like beer too. You like a lot of things. You could sit at this bar and talk about your favorite drinks for hours. You’re not just the martini girl. You’re so much more. 

You need some air. Your daydreams are getting in the way of enjoying the night and Frankie’s none the wiser, so best keep it that way.

“I’m gonna bring my gasoline olives back to the party,” you say, ducking out from Frankie’s body without waiting for a reply. Maybe catching a glimpse of surprise, you strut back to the girls. The warmth of their excitement and enthusiasm reinvigorate your tight throat. 

Your drink dwindles slowly, savoring the clean flavor and crushing the olives one by one between your teeth. One of the girls tries the dregs of your glass and wants one of her own, so you weave back to the bar so you can help her order. A holler rises from the boys around Will, and when you look you catch Frankie’s face again. He’s all beaming smiles, eyes barely visible from behind his crows feet and gleaming teeth. He catches your eye and his smile softens, and over the din of the bar he mouths “you good?”

You nod. Of course you are. What would Frankie know about that?

The drinks come, followed by cheers and hums of contentment. You will definitely be tipping well tonight. Before you can make it back to the group Benny cuts off your path, swooping one arm behind your back and your free hand into his. 

“No no no, Benny, I’ll spill!” you shriek, feeling the telltale wetness of a sloshed drink over your fingers. “Shit, I think I got it on the back of your shirt…”

“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Benny says, mock-dancing with you to the barely audible music. 

“How’s Will?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder to snag a healthy sip of the martini. Now a more manageable level, you let Benny lead you away from the bar.

“So in love it makes me sick.” You raise an eyebrow. “In a good way!” he adds, turning you so the man in question is visible. Tatiana’s tucked under his arm, and his mouth drifts to kiss the top of her head.

“You know what, I get it,” you agree, the both of you snickering as the tempo of the music changes. It might be a Hozier song? It’s hard to tell over the babble of voices.

“How are you?” he asks, feigned innocence a red flag flicked in front of your eyes.

“Peachy. Why?”

Benny’s hand squeezes yours in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Fish mentioned you seemed down. Something about olives?”

The flash of heat rocketing to your face has to be combatted, so you choose comedy.

“Oh yeah, the fact that they never give me enough in my damn drink. Could drive a woman to tears!” Your put-on mid-atlantic accent doesn’t sell it. Benny chews on the inside of his cheek before leaning to bring his mouth to your ear.

“I know you’re gonna tell me to fuck off…”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

“...but you and I both know this ain’t about olives.”

You lean back, jaw set and eyes cool.

“You’re right. It’s about absolutely nothing.”

“Hey…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Benny lets go and you down the rest of your drink. It burns and you hate yourself for it, but it feels good to let liquid frustration carve through the center of you. 

“It’s late, and bar snacks aren’t gonna soak up the hangover I’ll have tomorrow. I’m gonna say bye to Will and Tatiana, get a cheeseburger, and go home.” Benny puts his hands on his hips, blue eyes filled with a brotherly care you know better than to try and tamp down.

“And it’s not about olives?”

Plucking the toothpick full of metaphor out of the glass, you point it at him.

“It’s not about olives.”

Benny relents, and walks you over to the happy couple. Promises of more drinks and a bachelorette party are half shouted before you pick through the crowd and exit the front of the bar. 

The air is just starting to get cool, alcohol thrumming in your blood. You love the way a martini buzz feels, your mind crystal and your body sharp as glass. It’s different from the smoky haze of scotch or the sluggish thudding of beer. Martinis make you diamond.

Which is why you notice Frankie immediately upon his exit, even though you can tell he wanted to go unseen for a few moments longer. He fumbles his hands into his pockets, ambling up to stand beside you while you glare at the Uber app.

“Got a ride coming?” 

“Eventually.”

He nods and stares at the toes of his boots, which you observe surreptitiously. The progress bar keeps filling and emptying as the silence stretches. 

“I’m sorry for shitting on your drink.”

You can’t help but snap your face to him, eyebrows raised.

“I sure hope you didn’t shit on my drink.”

The poor choice of words quirks the corner of your mouth as Frankie tries to recover.

“Jesus Christ, I mean…you know what I mean! I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says, now contemplating the sky with resignation. There's still a fight in you, but you try to meet halfway.

“S’all good, I shit on your terrible beers all the time. We’re even.” You glance back at the app and shut it out of frustration. You’ll try again in a minute. 

“I don’t hate olives, either,” he rushes out. You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping. God, could they just let this go? You’re embarrassed enough about it. Before you can make another joke, another deflection, he barrels on.

“To be honest, I’ve never tried…olives. I see them all the time - at parties, at the bar, at friend’s houses - and there always seems to be some reason not to try them. I’m always having something else, or just had something, and I don’t want to…I’m afraid if I try the olives, I’ll really like them. And I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. And that’s been scaring me off from even trying.” 

Frankie looks up at you, mouth parted and brow furrowed, as realization rises slow and fizzy.

“Because I think I could really, really like them. Enough that I’d want them all the time. But I’ve never had anything like that before. And I don’t want to hurt the…olives.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears, lower lip close to a betraying tremble before you force it between your teeth..

“You don’t want to hurt…the olives,” you parrot back and Frankie sighs, lifting his cap enough to rake his fingers through his hair before resettling it. 

“Fuck it, you know what I mean, right? It’s not about…it’s not about the fucking olives,” he says, and one of his hands wraps around your shoulder. It’s hot and strong and your chest swells at the touch.

“If it’s not about the olives,” you say, tentative, voice dropping into a lower register. He’s closer, almost as close as in the bar, thumb worrying back and forth over your shirt. “Then why don’t you show me what it is about?”

You expected more hesitation, but with that permission he lunges for you, cupping your face with both hands as he crashes your lips together. It’s fast and messy, teeth pressed against your lips and his tongue slipping in to taste. He groans and your knees go weak, head spinning worse than any drink could hope to do. You clutch the lapels of his canvas jacket and pull him closer, sweeping strokes of your kiss filling your mouth with bitter hops. With a lurch he pulls back.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against your lips, but he continues to clutch at you, arm banding around your waist to keep you snug against him. 

“For what?” you tease, sliding your nose along his proud profile. 

“Takin’ so fuckin’ long.” His teeth graze your jaw lightly, heat pooling in a place that’s demanding a more private location for proper penance.

“I think you owe me a lot more than one very good kiss, after everything you’ve put me through,” you contemplate, his grip tightening. 

“Still waiting for your ride?”

Your fingers wander to the nape of his neck, and his curls are just as soft as you imagined.

“No.”

A gentler kiss follows, broader, somehow still able to make your head spin.

“Good, you’re coming home with me so I can properly apologize.”

The next morning as Frankie opens his front door for his breakfast delivery, he finds a pristine jar of olives resting on his welcome mat. The scrawled note - better start getting a taste for these! - is clearly in Benny’s handwriting. The memory of your body, soft and sleeping in his bed, pulls him back inside. 

After everything that got him here, he could learn to like olives.

END

"This is where righteousness ends It’s a relief to wave this overdue white flag and My blind spots have tortured you enough How much salt could I pour in To think that I called myself a friend."

Alanis Morissette, Olive Branch

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's hanging out with Steve at Family Video when Robin stomps in like a whirlwind.

"Oh, god, I did something so dumb. You have to help meee."

They straighten from where they lean over the counter towards each other, and Eddie takes a big step back, sure that all his big gay feelings for Steve are on display.

"What did you do this time?" Steve smiles with exasperated fondness.

"It's so bad." Robin faceplants with a dramatic wail.

"What happened?" Eddie asks

"I--I'm so sorry!" She looks at both of them, and a tingle of panic works it's way up Eddie's spine.

"My parents started going on and on about me and Steve and why we won't just admit we're dating, and I started to freak out because they won't accept that we're just friends, and I'm not ready to tell them that I'm a lesbian, even though I think it would be okay, so, I told them you were dating someone, Steve."

"Well, that's not so bad, Rob. So, what, they think I have a girlfriend? Who cares."

Her shoulders slump and she frowns. "I wish that's what they thought. They kept asking who, and I panicked!"

"Robin." Steve looks alarmed now, his pretty mouth pulled into a grimace. "What did you tell them?"

"Okay, please don't hate me," she begs. She's looking at Steve, but then she's looking over at Eddie. And oh, god, oh fuck, this can't be happening.

"You've got to be kidding me, Buckley," he says. He keeps his voice light but the touch of panic has become a punch.

"Wait. How do you know--how does he--? Who am I dating?"

"Me, Harrington. She told them you were dating me."

"Oh," Steve shrugs. "Sure."

Eddie chokes on air, plays it off. "For you maybe, Stevie. We in the Munson household have standards."

Steve doesn't meet a beat. "I'll have you know, Edward, that I am a catch."

"Yeah, for the lovely ladies of Hawkins," Eddie winks, even though every word, every gesture aches.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm a great boyfriend. Defend me here, Robin"

Normally, Eddie finds these antics to be charming, but confronting his crush on Steve so forcefully has ruined his mood.

"Need a cigarette," he says to escape.

He's only alone for a few minutes before Steve is sidling up next to him.

"What's she need us to do?"

"Dinner."

He grimaces, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'm so bad at meeting the parents."

"Shut-up." Steve pokes him in the chest. "Everyone loves you. It's kind of obnoxious, actually. Plus, I think this'll help her feel more comfortable about coming out."

He snorts if only so he doesn't have to think about Steve talking about him and love in the same sentence.

"Fine. For Buck, I'll do it." But he doesn't know how he'll get through pretending to date his biggest crush with out spontaneously combusting.

"Love the enthusiasm," Steve laughs. "You know I'd treat you right, Munson."

The blush that rolls over his face is crimson. "Alright, big boy, calm down. We're not actually dating."

The bark of laughter Steve lets out is a burst of pure adrenaline to Eddie's heart. This is going to be a disaster.

---

The night of the dinner arrives and Eddie almost blows the whole game when they walk in the Buckley front door and Steve's arm wraps around his waist. The night is all casually intimate touches and Steve leaning into his personal space; calling him "baby" in a soft, warm voice; eyes drifting to Eddie's lips as they flirt and banter.

It's almost like they're a couple; almost like Steve could love him.All of his senses are overwhelmed with Steve Harrington and it fucking hurts. But Eddie lets himself indulge, finally running his fingers through Steve's gorgeous hair, tracing the moles on his face and neck, outlining the sharpness of his perfect jaw, calling him "sweetheart" with heartbreaking fondness.

It's intoxicating.

They're helping Mrs. Buckley with the dishes when it happens. When Steve leans over and casually presses his lips to Eddie's, tasting like vanilla ice cream and spiced apples and something indefinably warm. Eddie is helpless not to crumple, leans into Steve, wraps fists into the perfectly fitted polo, drawing them closer.

The night ends and Eddie thinks he's finally free, except the Buckleys love them. Keep inviting them back.

He goes for Robin, he tells himself, but he knows that it's for the hope of it. Knows that he's a ship breaking himself against the rock that is Steve Harrington, and god help him, he can't stop.

---

Of course, of course, the wires get crossed. The kids have a pool party, leave Steve and Eddie to ice cream clean-up duty. Of course, he can't stop himself from smearing some melted mint chip down Steve's face, and Steve retaliates with chocolate sauce.

They giggle and flight and make mess until Steve's eyes are bright, cheeks red, and Eddie can't look away. He clocks Steve's eyes drifting to his mouth, is helpless as the distance between them closes, as Steve captures his lips.

It's not the brief, chaste things from the Buckley's; it's hot, all tongues and teeth and desire, and it's not fucking real.

Eddie lurches back, making Steve stumble. "Stop," he snarls.

"Eddie--" Steve's eyes are wide.

He's panting, can't catch his breath. "You can't just fucking kiss me like that when it doesn't mean anything to you."

"Please," Steve begs. "Let me explain."

"Save it. We're done with this. Robin is good now. And I'm out."

He turns away, heads towards the front door, but Steve pulls him back.

"Let me explain. Please. Please, Eddie. I didn't mean--"

And it's too much. Steve's plaintive voice, his big eyes wet with tears.

"Of course you didn't mean it," he spits. "It's nothing to you, pretending to date me. Touching me. Kissing me. Acting like you love me. It doesn't matter to the Heartthrob of Hawkins. But have you or Buckley ever taken the time to think that it's everything to me?" Hot tears spill down his cheeks and he can't even be embarrassed because all of this has been so humiliating.

Steve gapes at him, face slack and stunned. "Eddie, I--I'm so--"

"Don't. See you around, Harrington," he says. Then he runs.

---

He doesn't leave the trailer for a week. Refuses to pick up the phone.

It's Saturday, early evening. Wayne just left for his shift when there's a knock on the door.

Eddie is content to ignore it, to wrap himself in a quilt on the couch, but the knocking doesn't stop.

"Eddie, I know you're in there. Your van is here. The lights are on. I can hear you," Steve calls.

Longing clenches at his heart, but he's not in the mood for the gentle let down.

"Go away, Harrington." He starts towards his bedroom, thinking maybe he can lock Steve out.

"Please, Eddie."

"I don't need anything from you, Harrington."

It's silent for long enough that Eddie thinks it works. And then, " I have so many things I should tell you, Eds. If you still hate me at the end, I'll go. I'll never bother you again. But please, please listen."

Resigned to having a conversation he never wanted, Eddie opens the door. "Okay, Harrington."

Steve steps inside, twisting his hands for a few seconds before blurting out, "I've had a crush on you for months."

The confession briefly steals Eddie's breath from his lungs before he scoffs, "and you never said anything? C'mon, Harrington, when have you ever hesitated to ask someone out?"

Steve blinks a few times, before he answers. "I've been terrified to say anything because I didn't want to lose my best friend."

"And what, Robin asks us to pretend to date and you think that's the perfect time to make your move?" Eddie grips at his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

"Yeah, a little bit!" Steve raises his voice. "I tried but I was terrified you only wanted me as a friend."

"You know I'm gay, Harrington!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Of course I wanted you!" Eddie's yelling now, has closed the distance between them so they're almost nose-to-nose.

"I didn't know! How could I? You could've said something!"

"I thought you were straight! Fucking look at you! You've slept with 75% of the available girls at Hawkins High!"

"Who cares about them, Eddie? I want you!"

"Funny way of showing it, Harrington."

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Cause I am."

"Is that why you kissed me at your house? Making your move?"

"It wasn't supposed to be. I got--" Steve's throat bobs as he swallows. "Caught up in the moment. I know I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I know."

"Then why did you?" Eddie's voice breaks. "Why then? Why not any of the other nights we spent together?"

"Because that's when I realized that I'm fucking in love with you!" Steve shouts.

They're both breathing hard by the end, Steve's eyes too bright, face too flushed. They stare at each other, unmoving, Steve's confession ringing in his ears.

"You done?" Eddie's voice waivers, his heart pounding, stuttering, flipping in his chest.

Steve nods, but Eddie doesn't give him a chance to move. He brings their mouths crashing together, Steve not even hesitating to slip his tongue between Eddie's lips. They kiss hard enough that they draw blood, but that just makes it more frenzied. Eddie grips Steve's hip, presses him against the trailer door, grinding against him with abandon.

Eddie breaks the kiss to finally pay some attention to the delightful moles on Steve's neck, working his way up to his jaw. "I'm going to have so much fun taking you apart, sweetheart," he whispers, mouth pressed to Steve's ear, delighting in the way he shivers at the words.

[llamagoddessofficial]

You don't have to read this, but I've been thinking about ways to escape that situation. I would consider this a test run because we don't know their hunting strategies. Instead of focusing on running away, I would focus on understanding their patterns, as we know they are Mafia workers who search for people, and we don't know what kind of roles they have in their search. I'm considering whether or not to tell Dust about something, but I'm worried that he or my home might be bugged. If I do decide to tell him, I'll write a note explaining my reasons and wait for Horror to watch over us. While I wait, I'll inspect the garden for any weak points in the walls and observe the usual guard shift times. I might also pretend to have trouble sleeping and ask for some sleeping medication. I know Nightmare would attempt to help me, but he can't be available 24/7, and he won't be there every night, and I would ask for some sleep medication. And when it's Horror's turn I will dump the appropriate amount in his food or drink to mask the drugs when adding drugs to food or drink, I would use sugar to mask the taste and spices to cover up the smell. He is the main person hunting us down, and it's frustrating for Killer and Dust because they primarily used him to track us from the beginning. I will use the tough fabric of our curtains to tie knots and cut them to make a makeshift rope. Then, I will hail the nearest taxi, pay in cash, and instruct the driver to take us to the docks. I would take a boat tour to travel to the other side of the lake assuming that we live near one. They usually don't ask for ID, but I would choose a cheaper one just in case. I would be willing to pay extra if they do ask for it. Once I reach the other side, I would go to one of the destinations and start my new life without them.

An admirable attempt, to be sure. And there's a genuine chance you could get some distance away before they find you, which is no small feat. But there are some pitfalls you might have overlooked.

Guard shifts overlap. Nightmare has been in the game long enough to know the common breaks in armour. He's not just keeping you in; he's keeping his enemies out.

The boys might be dumb, but they're not stupid. They're incredibly observant. They would be able to tell that you're watching the guards.

Nightmare will be able to smell mounting anxiety about an escape attempt.

Where would you get the cash for the taxi? Additionally, you are really throwing the dice by getting a cab from outside Nightmare's home. Good luck finding a driver that isn't on Nightmare's payroll. In fact, good luck finding anywhere in the city where there isn't anyone loyal to Nightmare. There's a reason Dust was so agitated by Nightmare liking you... there's a reason he told you you can't leave.

You're gonna need a lot of fucking sleep meds to knock Horror out for any significant amount of time.

Horror is the fastest at finding you, sure. But if he's out of action, Nightmare will happily take his place on the hunt. And that isn't a good thing for you.

Also... perhaps the biggest issue.

You know food is sacred to Horror right? Incredibly sacred. To him, it's synonymous with love, with care, with connection. Food sharing in the Underground was how you told someone you valued their life. And accepting food was how you expressed the ultimate vulnerability. Horror doesn't accept food from just anyone.

Not only did you tamper with his food, you offered it to him under false pretences. You took advantage of the fact that he cared for you enough to eat/drink whatever you offer. I hope you realise you've absolutely shattered his trust.

He will never believe you, or let his guard down around you, ever again.

You monster.

[abucives]

𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒚

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝑺. 𝒙 𝑩𝒍𝒌!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Warnings: 18+, porn with little plot, no penetration, under the table

A/N: My first ever fanfic let alone spicy fanfic! pls be nice!!

It's a warm June Wednesday, and Connie is in his usual spot, gaming at his desk. His tall, lanky frame is hunched over his keyboard, eyes glued to the screen as he barks commands into his headset. He's in the zone, fingers flying across the keys as he dominates in his favorite online game.

You, on the other hand, are feeling a little frisky. You've been watching him play for a while, your boredom growing as the game drags on. You're dressed comfortably, your dark skin glowing softly in the light of the room, your long black hair cascading over your shoulders. You decide it's time to spice things up a little.

Slowly, you crawl across the floor, your movements silent and graceful. You position yourself under Connie's desk, your eyes locking with his for just a moment, a silent communication passing between you. He pauses, a small smile playing on his lips, before returning his focus to the game.

You know what he wants.

Leaning forward, you wrap your soft lips around the tip of his throbbing cock, sucking gently at first, tasting the familiar saltiness of his pre-cum. Connie lets out a muffled groan, his hands pausing on the keyboard as he feels your warm mouth enclose around him.

"Fuck, girl," he mutters, his voice hoarse as he adjusts his microphone. "Keep that up and I won't last long."

You look up at him through your dark lashes, a shy smile playing on your lips. You pull back, letting his thick length slide from your mouth with a slippery pop, before leaning forward again to lick and suck at his sensitive glans. Your tongue teases the tiny slit, lapping at the bead of pre-cum that forms there, savoring the taste of him.

Connie's chair creaks as he shifts, adjusting his position to give you better access. "You're such a good girl," he growls, his eyes never leaving the screen, his fingers moving deftly as he continues to play. "Suck my dick like a good little slut."

His dominant tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you moan softly, the vibrations of your voice buzzing against his hardness. You take him deeper this time, relaxing your throat to accommodate his girth, your hands reaching up to cup his heavy balls, massaging them gently.

"Oh yes, just like that," he encourages, his voice harsh. "Take it all, you dirty girl."

You obediently swallow him down, your nose pressing into his pubic hair, his scent filling your nostrils. You hold him there, your throat working around him, before pulling back and swirling your tongue around the crown, marking him with your saliva.

Connie's breath quickens, his gaming now forgotten as pleasure takes over. He leans back in his chair, one hand resting on the headboard, the other threading through your hair, guiding your pace. "That's it, fuck my dick with that pretty mouth," he urges.

Your shy personality disappears as you become lost in the moment, your confidence growing with each of his praises. You hollow your cheeks, sucking strongly, drawing him further into your wet warmth, your fingers gently scratching at his balls.

"Goddamn, I'm close," Connie warns, his hips beginning to buck gently, his breathing becoming more ragged.

You sense his impending release and slow your pace, milking him with gentle suction, teasing him, drawing out his pleasure. "You want my cum, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod eagerly, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. You want to taste him, feel his hot seed hitting the back of your throat.

"Beg for it," he demands, his hand tightening in your hair, tugging gently, guiding you off him momentarily.

"Please, let me taste you," you whisper, your eyes pleading. "I need your cum."

He groans at your filthy words, releasing your hair, and urging you back onto his aching cock. "Take it then, take my load," he says, his voice commanding.

You do as he says, sucking hungrily, your mouth working frantically as he explodes onto your tongue. You swallow greedily, savoring his flavor, your hands gripping his thighs as you ride out his orgasm with him.

Finally, he softens, spent, and you sit back on your heels, a satisfied smile on your face, your lips glistening in the light.

"Fucking hell, that was incredible," Connie breathes, his fingers reaching down to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

[ponett]

Whenever I complain about graphic or dark content in media I watch, I keep hearing people retort with this apparently very popular opinion that people who enjoy comfy, wholesome things are actually more likely to be raging assholes than people who love things like death metal and gore. As someone who seems to enjoy comfy, wholesome things yourself and likely met many others who enjoy similar such things, do you agree with this opinion? If so, why do you think this happens?

So I've been sitting on this ask for like a week, not knowing whether or not I wanted to touch it because it kind of feels like being handed a live grenade

For one, I don't like being pigeonholed as someone who just likes "comfy" or "wholesome" things. Yeah, I enjoy My Little Pony and Animal Crossing. I made a game with cute furry characters and lots of bright colors. I also enjoy things like Berserk and Chainsaw Man and Doom and violent crime dramas and punk rock with vulgar lyrics and porn. Variety is the spice of life

Anyway: I generally don't think it's a good idea to make sweeping statements about peoples' moral or intellectual character based on what genres of story they enjoy, regardless of what direction you're coming at it from. But this is a very leading question that kind of skirts around the root problems

There's frequent (perhaps a bit exaggerated) pushback these days against people who prefer their fiction to be a warm blanket, a form of escapism meant to distract you from the real world. In particular, the dreaded "person who only watches kids' cartoons" is a form of this that gets brought up a lot. I don't think the root problem here is what media people enjoy or don't personally enjoy - taste is subjective, and I don't think it's a moral obligation for everyone to have diverse tastes in TV shows - but I do think some folks should try to get out of their comfort zone a bit more. Sometimes stuff that seems like it won't be for you on a surface level will really end up speaking to you, but you won't know until you give it a shot. Trust me, I've been there many times

It becomes a problem when people demand that media ONLY cater to that "warm blanket" attitude. And I think that's part of the reason why that stereotype you mentioned about fans of ""wholesome""" media being assholes exists. People who view dark or violent content as an inherent flaw because it's not what they like. People who yell at creators when they make bad things happen in their stories, because how dare you do this to my comfort characters? People who say movies should never have sex scenes. People who want "problematic" moral complexity stripped out in favor of black and white moral instruction. People who seem to hate any sort of interpersonal conflict in fiction at all

These attitudes can be the result of many different cultural factors, factors that can't all be traced back to Tumblr or what shows you like, but sometimes it's definitely because of that lack of broader perspective on media. You can tell when someone's opinions on The Right And Wrong Ways To Write Fiction were shaped almost entirely by, like, Steven Universe discourse. (Yes, this is a jab at Lily Orchard.) And when these people are very loud about their opinions, well, it becomes a trend people notice

Like. I don't know you. You sent this anonymously. But when you say you "complain about graphic or dark content in media you watch"... that could mean a few wildly different things! Maybe you're just venting about something that unexpectedly triggered you, and that's totally fine. But the wording could also imply that, like, you take issue with these things being present at all, and that you expect a person who likes "death metal and gore" to be more of a "raging asshole" than someone who likes the "wholesome" things you like. So... well, maybe you're more dismissive or judgmental of things outside your comfort zone than you realize?

Unfortunately, in case it's not already obvious, on the internet this shit quickly becomes a proxy battle over dozens of intersecting cultural issues at once where everyone is kinda just talking past each other. So it gets messy

For example, I have no reason to believe that the people who run the "Wholesome Games" showcases have anything against games that are dark or violent or contain adult themes. (They've outright said they don't. Many times!) But when you see people going "why is Spiritfarer allowed in the showcase? That's a game about DEATH and that's NOT WHOLESOME, why would you make me think about death?" or "Ugh, why does Disco Elysium have to be about a cop? Why can't we apply these systems to a game about a young witch who's trying to find a lost cat in an idyllic village instead?" it... Well, it makes me sympathetic towards the indies who don't feel comfortable with the "Wholesome Games" label and consider it limiting. But it also doesn't make me think that devs catering to a demand for more chill, nonviolent video games are categorically facilitating fascist censorship from the Christian right

It's complicated! The written word is imprecise and the internet is a nightmare

I've kind of gone off on multiple tangents here. Basically: I do think that people can kinda turn fans of "comfy" media or "adults who only watch Bluey" into an overblown boogeyman these days. I think people online generally have a habit of swinging too hard in one direction or another in their stances on certain things, overcompensating based on what group of people online are currently annoying them the most and turning said group into like The Main Problem With Society Today. But I also think that boogeyman only exists because of very real examples of people demanding that everything cater to their narrow comfort zone. Go like what you like, but also, y'know. Don't be that person

[mossplot]

Mouth washing character headcannons: :D

TW:MENTIONS OF ASSAULT AND NSFW

CURLY:

-has a CRIPPLING fear of letting people down.

-runs left and right and up and down, all over trying to please everyone.

-due to this, he gets burnt out fast.

-gives amazing advice to others, but (stereotypically) cannot follow the advice himself.

~”He said WHAT to you? You absolutely do not deserve that!”

~”Okay, yes. Jimmy did say that to me, but that’s different!”

-we all know Aussie Curly.😏

-i believe his accent would only be think and noticeable when showing a lot of emotion in his voice.

-he seems to be the pinnacle of health with all his weightlifting and snow sport hobbies!

-with that being said, I believe this man 100% lectures the other crew members about their health, eating habits, exercise regimens, ect…(yes, even Anya🙄)

-he does this out care! He’s not trying to be a stickler.

-100% smells of sweat and cheep yet fairly good smelling cologne. Working at Pony Express can’t afford you brand name things.



ANYA:

-Anya 100% enjoyes mint ice cream.

-also oddly specific, but I get the vibe that she’d enjoy peanuts but dislike peanut butter, claiming “it tastes totally different!”

-we already know she’s a try hard at board games, but don’t even get her started at team games like charades or Pictionary.

~”Daisuke HOW DID YOU GET HELICOPTER FROM THAT?! I WAS LITERALLY PRETENDING TO SWIM!!!”

-I also feel like she’s an Ambivert, it all just depends on the situation and who she’s around.

-also isn’t a huge fan of physical touch unless she’s close with the person. If she is, she’s constantly touching them in some way 24/7.

-a gentle hand on their shoulder, feet touching as they lay at opposite ends of the couch, holding hands.

-she just really loves her friends.

-a huge girls girl.

-bi, with a huge leaning towards women, to be precise.

-gets overwhelmed very easily.

-has a very distinct laugh, a laugh that when you hear it-it is funnier than the joke that was told.

-originally wanted to be an astronomer and stayed up late looking out her bedroom windows connecting the stars in new constellations.

-closest to Daisuke.

-smells good, like lavender and rosemary-very earthy but it’s faint and not pungent.

SWANSEA:

-finds lint in his bellybutton 24/7.

-would lay in his recliner at home and not like what was playing in tv, but would also be too lazy to get the remote and change it, subsequently falling asleep instead.

-It’s obvious that he’s not great at expressing his love, this is shown by his interactions with Daisuke. This extends to his family too.

-was never able to offer more than a loose arm around the shoulder of his daughters or wife and a “Cheer up, it could always be worse.”

-despite this, the gifts (very personal and thought out I may add) he comes home with for them prove his love to them.

-used to be incredibly fit.

-secretly thinks Curly is a pushover and dislikes him for how he lets Jimmy treat him.

~”Now a REAL man woulda socked him something good!”

~”Please, Swansea. I can’t go assaulting my own crew!” (Ironic)

-his daughters and/or wife would periodically wake up to him stomping through the house, coughing, burping, farting, pissing loudly…basically all the things dads do.

-would always only walk around in underwear and shirt. (Not in a weird way)

-daughters would be MORTIFIED when they had friends over and they see Swansea waking up from his midday nap walking past scratching his ass in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.

-is one of those old fashioned dads who threatens his daughters boyfriends.

-absolutely LOVES asparagus.

-one time “accidentally” hit Jimmy in the nuts pretending to swat a bug away.

-also doesn’t smell bad: a little like tabaco (I believe he smokes) and alcohol, but also a lot like motor oil and old spice.

DAISUKE:

-also a huge girls girl!

-100% has nipple piercings and you CANNOT convince me otherwise.

-had an Emo phase in middle school.

-is incredibly lucky at only board games. Anything else? Absolutely the worst luck ever.

-was generally liked throughout his schools due to his easy going and goofy nature.

-his guilty pleasure is Southpark and huddles away on the ship to watch it on his game boy (somehow).

-has jailbroken all his phones only to need to buy new ones to AGAIN jail break those ones.

-has a speed run channel on YouTube where he is actually really good and holds several records.

-did gymnastics as a kid and is incredibly flexible.

-loves playing board games with Anya just to see her get pissed off.

-will sit in medbay yapping to her for hours on end, switching from topic to topic with really no direction.

-draws little characters of all the crew members and hides them on the ship. Anya and Curly thought it was endearing, Swansea would never admit it but he did too, and Jimmy did NOT like Yimpy.

-loves watching asmr, especially scalp and hair play and jumps at the opportunities where Anya offers to play with and/or do his hair.

-despite being goofy and easygoing, he’s not stupid. He had decent grades in high school and continues to in college and can be serious when need be.

-I head cannon him as a big brother, who absolutely adores his little sister.

-oh! She wants this? He’ll buy it! She wants to go here? He’ll come with! Someone’s picking on her? He’s already taking care of it. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

-this man smells of sweetener. He must’ve rolled in a pile of of it because he reeks of it.

JIMMY:

-100% has and still does jerk off to photos of Curly WHO SAID THAT?!

-had an okay childhood to a single father.

-has a tramp stamp curly convinced him to get when he (Jimmy) was drunk back in college.

-also weight lifts with Curly.

-has UNNECESSARILY hairy feet. Like, all over him is hairy, but his feet are just big bushes.

-actually fairly agile.

-is obviously a Brony (duh). Curly needed to borrow his laptop one time in high school and…never again.

-his best class in high school was art! Can do fairly decent sketches and enjoys it a lot.

-really, really likes newports.

-snores loudly. To the point it will wake up people on the ship and they’ll come complaining to him. He obviously doesn’t give a shit.

-ran a Reddit account back in high school posting r/im14andthisisdeep.

-regularly tried to steal or drive away Curly’s girlfriends in high school and college, claiming he knew what was best for Curly and they were taking advantage of him.

-takes a little less care of himself than the other members, so he smells a little worse. As an aroma of musk and sweat, along with Curly’s cologne because he can’t be bothered to buy his own. (sharing is caring, right?)

BIPPIE!! I MADE MY FIRST POST ON HERE! :D

[estapa-edwards]

pookie saw you were taking requests and that plus your amazing work had my brain working,, I loved your grumpy fic,, and as self-proclaimed menace to society, I would love to see Connor with a full on chaotic dramatic mess of a person,, very orange cat coded 🙈🙈😋

CHAOTIC - C. BEDARD

paring: Connor Bedard x reader

word count: 875

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Y/n has a larger-than-life personality reminiscent of an orange tabby cat, with a penchant for drama that could rival Broadway's finest. Their life is a constant whirlwind of spontaneous adventures, dramatic outbursts, and laughter that echoes through the halls. Y/N is the kind of person who can turn the most mundane moments into unforgettable memories, leaving a trail of chaos and joy in their wake.

Then there's Connor, the epitome of calm in the storm, whose presence exudes a quiet strength and determination. As a rising star in the world of hockey, his days are filled with rigorous training sessions, media obligations, and the pressure of living up to lofty expectations. Yet, amidst the chaos of his professional life, Y/N is his anchor, a source of light and laughter that brings balance to his world.

----

Armed with a recipe they found online, Connor and Y/N eagerly embark on a culinary adventure, determined to whip up a romantic dinner together. Their differing personalities complement each other perfectly, turning the kitchen chaos into a delightful symphony of laughter and love.

“How much salt did the recipe say to add?” Y/N asks, stirring a pot on the stove with a flourish of dramatic flair.

“It says just a pinch, but I think you might have gone a bit overboard there,” Connor replies with a gentle smile, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Y/N's animated gestures.

“Oops. Well, they do say cooking is all about experimentation, right?” Y/N laughs, their vibrant energy filling the room with warmth.

As Connor watches Y/N taste the sauce, he can't help but admire their zest for life. "I hope it's not too salty," he says, his voice steady and reassuring.

Y/N's face lights up with excitement. "Hmm, it's definitely... bold," they say, their eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe a sprinkle of paprika will give it that extra kick?"

Connor nods, impressed by Y/N's creativity. He reaches for the spice rack and adds a dash of paprika to the sauce, marveling at how effortlessly they transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.

As they continue to cook, Connor marvels at the way Y/N moves around the kitchen with grace and confidence, turning simple ingredients into a culinary masterpiece. Meanwhile, Y/N admires Connor's precision and attention to detail, grateful for his calming presence amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, Y/N accidentally knocks over a jar of olive oil, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. They freeze, their eyes wide with shock.

Connor rushes to their side, his concern palpable. "Are you okay?"

Y/N bursts into laughter, their melodramatic reaction adding a touch of comedy to the situation. "I'm fine, just a little clumsy," they say, wiping away tears of mirth.

Connor joins in their laughter, relieved to see Y/N's spirits lifted. Together, they clean up the mess, their laughter echoing through the kitchen like music. 

--- --- --- 

Y/N arrives at the hockey arena, her excitement palpable as she bounces on the balls of her feet, a whirlwind of energy in the midst of a sea of fans. Her outfit is a riot of colors, a mishmash of patterns and textures that somehow come together in a chaotic symphony of style. She cheers loudly, her voice rising above the crowd as she waves a homemade sign emblazoned with Connor's name.

As the game begins, Y/N's enthusiasm knows no bounds. She jumps up and down, her hands flailing wildly in the air as she cheers on her beloved Connor with unwavering support. Her antics draw the attention of nearby spectators, who watch in amusement as she becomes increasingly animated with each play.

When Connor scores a goal, Y/N leaps out of her seat, cheering at the top of her lungs and showering the ice with confetti from a hidden stash in her bag. She dances in the aisles, oblivious to the stares of the other fans as she celebrates with reckless abandon.

But amidst the chaos of her celebration, disaster strikes in the form of an overenthusiastic high-five that sends her drink flying, drenching the unsuspecting fans seated in front of her. Y/N gasps in horror, her face flushing with embarrassment as she frantically apologizes and offers to buy them new drinks.

Despite the mishap, Y/N remains undeterred in her support for Connor, cheering him on with even greater fervor as the game progresses. She waves her homemade sign like a flag, her voice hoarse from shouting as she urges him onward to victory.

As the final buzzer sounds and the crowd erupts into cheers, Y/N rushes down to the edge of the rink, eager to congratulate Connor on his stellar performance. She wraps him in a tight embrace, her messy hair and smudged makeup a testament to the intensity of her support.

"Congratulations, Connor!" she exclaims, her eyes shining with pride. "You were amazing out there!"

Connor smiles, his heart full at the sight of Y/N's unbridled joy. He pulls her close, grateful for her unwavering support and the chaotic energy she brings into his life.

"Thanks, Y/N," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I couldn't have done it without you."

sorry its so late, ive haven't been up to writing recently! hope you enjoy!

[bleach-your-panties]

Tapping in for the v-day event…can I get tsukki for letters E, I, M and L pls🤭

For Tsukki-poo, you sure can, bby!🧡

(I love this gif of him - that's when he felt it. That's how it feels to be a winner, boy!😤)

❥⋱Kei Tsukishima:

❥⋱E - Entice: What scents turn him on? Your perfume/cologne maybe? Does he like scented candles, incense, etc.?

Tsukki would love strawberry-scented candles because he loves strawberry shortcakes. I can see him liking any candles that smell like a bakery: vanilla, cinnamon, chocolate, pumpkin spice. He likes those candles that smell exactly like cupcakes.

But on YOU, he likes only vanilla scents. 

“Smelling so damn good, making me think I should just eat you up. Maybe I will.”

He will bury his face between your neck and shoulder and kiss/lick you there to see if you taste as good as you smell. Which will then probably lead to him eating you out, claiming he needs to test his ‘theory’ in other areas of your body.

❥⋱I - I Love You: When did he first say ‘I love you?’

Now, with him, you know it took him some time because he’s a difficult bitch. Also, he didn’t really believe that someone like you could love someone like him because of his rude, snarky personality.

It’s true; when you met him in high school, you couldn’t stand him at first because of his attitude. The teacher assigned you both a group project and you both were thinking the same thing about each other: ‘they’re going to try to make me do all the work’

He didn’t like you, either, because you made him feel things other than irritation and self-doubt. That scared him.

Tsukki also had problems with trusting people due to his issues with his self-esteem and self-confidence. When you started showing interest in him, he just assumed that you were ‘trolling’ him. So, surprise surprise, when you told him that you liked him, he didn’t believe you.

After a while, once he saw that he wasn't getting rid of you anytime soon, he began to believe in the idea of someone genuinely loving him in a romantic sense.

You were the first to make the confession, to which he smirked cockily and put a hand atop your head.

"I love you, too, shrimp."

❥⋱M - Marry: How does he feel about marriage?

He wants to get married, but doesn’t feel like he’ll be good husband material; it’s difficult for him to express his emotions, okay? Tsukki knows that he loves you and you love him, but despite his aloof demeanor, he feels an immense feeling of insecurity when it comes to his love life. 

He feels that honestly you could probably do better than him, but after a while of dating you and spending nearly every waking moment together when he’s not studying or at volleyball practice, he begins to really see just how much you truly care for him.

Which is why after he scored the winning point for his end-season game as middle blocker for the Sendai Frogs, he bent down on one knee right there in the middle of the court. Everyone was already watching him anyway, so why not?

He debated waiting until after you both graduated college to ask you to marry him, but he figured why wait when you’ve remained by his side, supporting him and encouraging him for all of high school and then the majority of your college years?

You could hear his friends, teammates, mother, and especially his older brother, Akiteru, in the background cheering:

“That’s my little brother! The tall one, with the glasses! My little brother is getting married!”

❥⋱L - Lotion: Massage time! What kind of lotion, how does he massage you, or you to him!

Now you know if anybody is going to be massaging anybody, you're going to be massaging him!

His excuse is that his muscles ache after practice and he's not going to let anyone other than you put your hands on him in such an intimate manner. He also refuses massages from the team's specialist, which has gotten him scolded a couple of times.

Why let a stranger touch him when his beautiful fiancee can do that? Plus, afterward, he gets to fuck you. Win-win for him.

He'll probably choose just a simple massage cream with a neutral scent or one of your vanilla-scented body lotions since he likes them so much.

While you're massaging him, he'll be smirking and making perverted little comments to make you flustered, especially when you get to his thigh/groin area.

"Getting a little close to my dick there. Is someone needy tonight?"

----

valentine a-z © bleach-your-panties 2024. do not steal, repost, or upload my shit to tiktok! comments appreciated. reblogs always welcome.

[sakuraryomen01]

I'm horny so I'm writing about my thoughts.

warnings: nsfw, fem reader, mdni, blowjobs, sex in different positions, some size kinks, nipple play, possible breeding, man handling if u squint

words: idk I didn't count but it's a lot

ft:: yuji, kuroo, bokuto, and sukuna

Yuji Itadori🐅

He's been brain rotting for a while and it's annoying how much I think about him, but I love him too much to make him move out.

I love thinking about how heavy his cock must get when he's hard, and ready to come. It'd probably tilt with a thick vein pulsing along the underside so it makes him × 10 more sensitive when you suck him off. He's probably not super long like kuroo would be, but he'd definitely be on the thicker side.

I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be ashamed about being average, but I'm drooling over that stretch baby boy dw 🤤💞

He'd definitely taste.. interesting. I don't see him tasting super sweet like gojo or something, I see him tasting like a savory meal if that makes any sense?

Something like a meal you'd never want to forget or finish early. If yk what I mean, ty. 🙏

He'd definitely try and be gentle during sex and hand/blowjobs. Yuji knows he's a strong boy so being careful of his grip and thrusts is something he has anxiety about often. When he's close though, he'll be in cloud nine and forget what he's doing.

Bucking his hips while his thighs tense and practically vibrate as his climax nears. Praising him is such a great way to tell him "I'm okay" even though his cum's covering your face and lips.

Different positions he loves: doggy, reverse cowgirl, and missionary

While Yuji does think that your sex life needs lots of spice, he's really willing to do whatever it takes to make you cum! He loves the simple things, but watching you masturbate in front of him gets him drooling and hard.

Kuroo Tetsuro🐈‍⬛

He definitely makes me want to scream daddy at the top of my lungs but then want to cuddle him and kiss his forehead for hours while reading my favorite book or watching a horror movie.

Daddy? I'm sorry. Daddy? I'm sorry.

I get the vibe from kuroo that he lives to eat pussy to relieve his own stress.

Work getting too much? Eat pussy. Staying up too late fucking? Eat pussy + the cream pie. He'd like a girl that'd know how to edge and tease him, even though he'd flat out deny this.

He'd feel hot and heavy over constant teasing remarks or suggestive compliments. Offering a massage during a game would also make him want to kiss you and cuddle you for hours.

Kuroo loves spice.

He'll bring in some kind of toy like a vibrator or ask to fuck on the couch instead of in the bedroom.

(I wouldn't doubt he'd try role-playing.)

Kuroo's just above average with a slimmer cock, but it's big no matter how you put it. He's probably not a sweets guy, but I'd end up making him something like strawberries to make him taste like candy.

Kuroo himself probably tastes like bokuto and yuji since all of them are incredibly athletic and active in their daily lives. He's not ashamed of himself either and probably grooms regularly to keep it "presentable."

Positions and places he adores: the hook, standing doggy, anything that involves a counter

He'd probably try doing role plays that involve his job or his past. Like, volleyball coach fucks captain or something. He's a wildcard tho so I can't say for sure 😃

Bokuto Kōtaru🦉

A owl man that's energy is so contagious and sexy I'd like to eat his ass like a fucking meal— he's the obsession, he's the moment, he's a himbo sweetheart.

Bokuto doesn't hate his ass or his massive man tits, but he doesn't like that they steal the show. We all know that his ass was stolen from a bakery and that those thighs are illegal.

This might, or might not, be an unpopular opinion BUT I would eat his ass any day. I love this man's body sm it's like a plus with his sweet and energetic personality.

He'd be so touchie when it comes to sex, and he probably has a cute nickname for it tbh. He knows that his thighs are a weakness so he'll use them to slick up your pussy and panties while he's busy playing with ur tits and neck.

"feel good baby? Like my tongue?"

Verbal, loud, fast, and rough.

Bokutos strength shines through when the bed's creaking, your ass is jiggling beautifully on his pelvis, and your screams are nothing short of gorgeous. Bokuto loves to use your tits and hips as his personal love handles.

Massive calloused palms that are rough to the touch but feel amazing rubbing and flicking at your nipples.

His moans r loud but so hot. He'll also chuckle in a low tone if you cum more than once around his cock in the first round. (I would, I have.)

Positions? Yes: doggy, missionary, against the wall, in his lap, mating press

His cock is a proud 8 with a thickness that makes u think he stole a muffin or two to feed it. Damn does that stretch hurt but it sounds really good in your pussy!!!

Sukuna Ryomen😈

A devil in life, a devil in the sheets. He'll break your back and break you in one sitting but torture you with his many tongues. It's funny to think about Sukuna being disappointed when he first reincarnates since he doesn't have those swoll coc—

Sukuna is so wild during sex it's like a ride of its own. I'm basing this more on how he is in the manga and anime rather than a romantic version. So, let's begin shall we? ^^

Lord Ryomen does love a little challenge even though it thoroughly annoys him. Having a woman that's fully submissive for him and only him but will get on his nerves regularly makes him want to make sure you know your place over and over.

What better way than to fuck you with his monster cock(s)?

The Vessel version of him is definitely rougher than the true form. True form is bigger, but has a little patience in my opinion. Vessel version has none and since he only has one, he'll make another just to punish you.

My own personal favorite part of Sukuna isn't the tattoos, surprise surprise! I love them fucking biceps and that face. Both true form and vessel.

Tracing my fingers along them as a past time yes, but I'll be holding onto those arms for dear life while burning his face into my brain. Seeing how his eyes will shine while forcing my pussy to accommodate him.

Positions or mild suggestions?: Anything that allows him to fuck your pussy(and asshole let's be honest), does enjoy a show so maybe cowgirl, cuddle fucking when he's lazy or tired

His cock(s) have a powerful taste seeing as he's a cursed spirit rather than a normal human. I doubt he'll taste any better than what it normally tastes like, but I'd still suck it like my life depends on it 😭

Sukuna doesn't have an official size in his vessel for seeing as he can just change it to what he wants. But in true form, he is definitely over 8 inches and thicker than anything.

Take a Coke 2 liter bottle and imagine Sukuna's cocks. That's probably about accurate.

Loved writing for my favorite boys, and I honestly loved imagining them. I'm tagging some ppl I think would enjoy this, but if you want to be removed for any reason pls lmk!!❤️

Tags: @yuujispinkhair, @xxnghtclls