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mattysketchup · 10 days ago

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nerd!matt giving brat!reader head

100 follower special !!

warnings… oral (f receiving), matt the munch, soft dom!matt, swearing, slight degrading, hair pulling?, edging, pet names

my first actual smut fic, mb if its ass but enjoy

(masterlist) (taglist)

“so if a dataset has a mean of 50 and a standard deviation of 5, what percentage of the data falls within one standard deviation of the mean?” matt asks.

you groan as you fling your head back. “matt c’mon, we’re not gettin’ anywhere with this”

“alright jus’ this one question.” matt says as he acknowledges your whines. matt was smart, like really smart, and it was noticeable to anybody who saw him.

the collared shirt, big glasses, and the awkward persona were enough to give it away.

“matt” you complain. “we’ve been at this for hours… can we just wrap it up? my brain isnt working anymore.”

“c’mon sweetheart…just a couple more questions, we’ve almost finished reviewing this unit.” he said, trying to get you to cram for your exam tomorrow.

“ugh fine. one more question” you say, only agreeing because, truly, how could you say no to him?

minutes pass and all you begin to think about is the growing heat between your legs.

you uncomfortably try to adjust your legs to make it stop, but nothing works. you start to zone out, your mind racing with all the things the man in front of you should be doing.

sure, you’ve noticed how stunning matt is, i mean you are “dating” him.

you look around his dorm to try and find anything else to focus on.

but his messy hair, shirt pulled up to see his veiny arms, and the raspy voice were enough to make a woman go wild.

“hellooo? y/n?” matt calls, causing you to snap out of your trance. “hey?” you respond.

“i asked you a question- you’re not listening are you.” he realizes.

“matt ‘m sorry, but i just don’t understand this and i’m so tired” you whine.

“sweetheart, you have your exams tomorrow. if you don’t revise and study you won’t do your best on it.” he warns.

he knew you weren’t the smartest person, well at least not compared to him, but he knew that it was probably your daddy’s money that got you a spot at a prestigious university.

“just two more-” he starts, but notices the pout on your face and your crossed legs and chuckles.

“oh sweetheart, you couldn’t even wait ten minutes for us to finish this?” he says, mumbling a small ‘pathetic’ before moving closer to you.

“please matt” you whine.

“please what?” he smiles, his hand on your knee.

“pl-please touch me” you pout, knowing he wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“oh, you poor thing” he coos with faux sympathy laced on his tongue.

he rubs a hand up and down your knee, your plaid skirt you wore to tease him now sliding up your thighs.

“fuck- matt don’t tease…” you mewl, your arousal now practically dripping in between your legs.

he smirked at you, loving the way you reacted to the slightest touch and the simplest of words.

“take this off f’me, yeah?” he basically whispers, running his hand over your skirt.

you do just that as he points over to the bed. “sit” he commands.

you’re now sitting at the edge of the bed in your baby blue lingerie, waiting for matt to touch you.

he gets down on his knees, slowly kissing your now slightly shaking thighs.

your pussy aches for this man, wanting him to just touch you.

he slowly takes off your panties, disregarding them on the floor as he softly spreads open your legs.

he wraps your thighs around his head, looking up at you with those submissive ass eyes.

“matt- please i need you” you beg, your fingers intertwined in his brown locks.

he smiles at the amount of power he has over you, kissing your pussy before slowly licking your clit.

you slightly moan at the sudden pleasure, your mouth agape.

he continues this subtle yet effective movement, earning more and more moans from you.

he begins to lap his tongue around your hole, causing you to grab his hair.

his tongue moves faster and faster as your hips buck against his tongue.

“y’like that sweetie?” matt asks, moving his tongue faster (if possible.)

“oh fuck- yes matt” you whine, your brain foggy. “m’gonna cum”

“ah ah ah” he tuts, stopping his movements. “i’ll tell you when you can come doll”

this only made you whine more, since you were used to getting your way.

“f-fuck matt… i can’t take it” “oh but yes you can doll. you practically begged for it, you’re gonna take it.” he commands.

you were a moaning mess on his bed. eyes rolled to the back of your head, legs shaking, and your hands gripping at matts hair in an attempt to make him go faster.

“h-holy shit” you moan. “please i need to cum”

“hmm… have you been good?” he asks.

“yes… please matt” you groan.

“atta girl, cum on my tongue babydoll” matt’s words, tongue, hands travelling your body, and piercing blue eyes were enough to send you over the edge.

you felt your body relax and the knot in your stomach snap as you released your arousal on his tongue.

“this gonna help you ace your exam tomorrow?” matt asks jokingly, as you playfully smack his shoulder.

tessa’s notes… THANK YOU ALL FOR 100 FOLLOWERS !!! i truly didn’t know how fast i could grow over the span of 3 months, but you all made it happen and i’m so grateful for every single one of you💋. guys i literally HATEEE writing smut so i do apologize if it’s terrible, js wanted to try smth different to express my gratitude for all of you !!!

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mooooonnnzz · 5 months ago

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This is kind of cringe but can you write a fic or make a headcanon list of Stan/Fords daughter getting a partner and how the dads would react? I love your work btw it's great!

2010 Toyota Corolla

Stan + Ford HC's of their teen getting a partner!

⟡ 1,5k words

⟡ gender neutral reader!

⟡ guys i think im going through a writers block can u tell

⟡ i was doing so good too omg

⟡ i couldnt figure out a title so i used a song i was listening to ths is a song i swear

⟡ cute lil simple hc of of the oldmen!!

⟡ if u wanna be added to my taglist dm or comment!

⟡ i might like take a two day break from writing to get it working again ngl

Stan

♡ Stan is extremely protective of you. He never shunned the idea away of you having a partner, but he never really encouraged it. He told you that it was “a waste of time,” that finding a partner at such a young age isn’t really necessary until you’re older. You didn’t bother protesting against him because at the time you hadn’t found your person yet. But when you did, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous to tell Stan about it. You knew he wasn’t going to be overly mad, but he was going to be slightly against it knowing his views on you having a partner. “Dad?” You nervously fidgeted with your fingers. “Yes, pumpkin?” You inhale, mustering up all the courage to tell Stan. “I have something to tell you…” You draw out. Stan’s face lightly drops, already having a feeling of what this “something” is. Pausing his TV show, he loudly gulped. “I’m dating someone!” You blurt out. Stan stares at you for the longest time, the gears in his head turning as he processes what you said. “You? Dating?” He sits up from the couch. “I need a moment…”

♡ After he recovers from the initial shock, he’s bombarding you with questions, such as; “Who are they?” “Do I know them?” “Are they smart?” And so on. You had no problem answering his questions and he had no issue giving you questions with how rapidly he shot them at you. Whenever you answered his questions, you could see the wrinkles in his forehead deepen the more you open up about your partner. This was definitely going to take some time for him to get used to. “Thank you for at least telling me, pumpkin.” He says after finishing up the whole Q&A.

♡ Meeting your partner was a must before he’d allow you to hang out by yourselves. When they came over to the shack, Stan had this whole gruff persona. He didn’t show much emotion and when he did, it was to show his distaste for what your partner said. “How long have you known [Name] for?” He interrogated, flashing a bright light to their face. “For a year now, sir.” They responded, shielding their eyes from the shining light. “Sir? I like that.” He mumbles to himself, scribbling +1 point on a notepad. When he turned over to you, he gave you a big thumbs up and a crooked smile. You couldn’t tell if it was going well. “Why do you want to date them?” Stan raised a brow, tapping the pencil on his chin. “Because I fell in love with them, sir.” Stan let out a loud “hmm,” and scribbled down, ‘very straight to the point’ on the note. After the interrogation was over, he ripped the note and gave it to your partner. “This is your score.” He said. “I guess you did good.”

♡ He pulled your partner into a room and had a serious “talk” about something you didn’t have a clue about. But when they came out of the room with a horrified look on his face while Stan was proudly smiling to himself, you had a tiny idea of what he said. They turn around to Stan and Stan twiddles his fingers, his other hand sliding across this neck threateningly. “Dad!” You smacked his arm.

♡ Even after Stan approved of your partner, he still wasn’t fully swayed by them. Whenever they’d be over, Stan would send death glares behind their back when they weren’t looking. But you would always catch them and when you did, Stan would sheepishly smile at you and make a heart gesture and point at your partner. He only ever came around them when Stan noticed them staring at one of the monster tourist attractions. “Whaddya lookin’ at, kid?” They began explaining how interested they were in the craft of making these grotesque monsters and Stan was more than happy to tell them the process. “Glue and staples come in handy, kid. I’ll tell you.”

♡ It wasn’t after that, you’d find your partner and Stan creating all kinds of monsters while cackling and talking. Stan saw you walk in and his face brightened up. “Pumpkin, look at what they made! It is disgusting.” He pointed a glue covered hand to the little ugly statue of a half chipmunk and fish. “Oh? Isn’t this something…” You poke at the monstrosity. “Isn’t it amazing?” Stan laughs, impressed with your partner's handiwork. “Oh, yeah. This is amazing.” You plainly said. “I’m going to leave you two be…” Conversation erupted between the two while you walked away with a big smile to your face.

♡ “I like that kid.” Stan says, a pleased look on his face. “Oh, I can tell, Dad.” You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey! They’re a great person. Perfect fit for my little [Name].” His fingers reached out to pinch your cheeks. “Oh, stop!” You push his hands away. “I’m just messin’ with ya, pumpkin.” Anything will and can make this old man laugh. “You might as well steal them from me.” Stan’s perked up. “Really?” He overplayed his excitement. You send him a dirty look while he barks out in laughter. “You’re gross.”

Ford

♡ He never really thought of you ever dating anyone. Romantic partners didn’t exist to him considering how terribly alone he is. The only thing he ever said about you dating was; “Uh, yeah?” and carried on with his work and that was a good enough answer for you. Ford found out about your partner when he walked in on you and your partner cuddling on the couch. “[Name],” He clears his throat awkwardly, pointing at your partner. “Who is this?” You introduce your partner to Ford and he’s genuinely speechless. “Since when?” He whispers to you after pulling you aside in the kitchen. “Since like, last week?” Ford’s jaw falls open. “And you never thought to tell me?” You shrugged. “I asked you and you said you were okay with it.” You tell him. “When?!”

♡ He would be so awkward around your significant other. “So…What is your name?” He’s tugging at his turtleneck, silently dying from how silent this whole exchange is. It takes him a lot of time to warm up to them, a lot of hangouts with the three of you together so he could be comfortable with them. He also uses this as an advantage and studies how they treat you and what they should improve on to make you happier. At the end of the hangouts, he’d slip in a note in their pocket. “If you want to stay with my child, you need to read the note.” He didn’t mean for it to sound menacing, but it was unfortunately received like that. “[Name], I think your dad hates me.”

♡ Like Stan, there’s an interrogation but it’s not as serious as Stan’s. Ford would have called them over and told them to sit down. He begins asking questions and writing down their answers. “What are you hoping to do with [Name]?” Your partner blushed. “To marry them hopefully.” Ford nodded his head. ‘Disgustingly cheesy.’ He wrote it down in big words. “If I ever wanted to conduct experiments on you, would you allow me?” You jump in at the mention of that. “Okay! I think they’ve answered enough questions, Dad!”

♡ He deep cleans the areas where you and your partner hugged, kissed and cuddled in. “Dad, what are you doing?” He has a mask and a plastic protective layer of armor around him. “I’m cleaning all the gross teenage bacteria!” You had to walk out after that. “Is this something you’re seriously going to keep up?” Even though Ford is the smartest man alive, he has trouble understanding the true nature behind relationships. “Yes, Dad. This isn’t a one time thing and we’re over. It’s a relationship.”

♡ Oddly enough, they bonded over their shared interest in researching the wonders of Gravity Falls. You’d often find them outside, Ford kneeled down to the ground, inspecting something while your partner has a notepad in hand, printing down whatever Ford is telling him to write. “Hey, what are you–” “SHHHH!” You looked at them with a confused look. “We need to be utter and total silence.” Ford held out a finger while he whispered notes for them to write. “Why though?” Ford pointed at a sleeping little fairy that was blanketed in a leaf. “Leave the fairy alone!” Ford opened his mouth to argue back, but his nose twitched and before he could react he sneezed, blowing the little fairy away. A silent tiny scream could be heard. “That was awesome, Mr. Pines!” Your partner held a hand out for Ford to high five but Ford was too sad to high five them back.

♡ “Final opinions on them?” You ask. “They aren’t too bad. They could be a good research partner.” You smile. “Just don’t take them from me.” You say, nudging him gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

#gravity falls #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #stanley pines x reader #ford pines #ford pines x reader #stan pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines x daughter!reader #ford pines x daughter!reader #ford pines x child!reader

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nicksbestie · 9 months ago

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can you do a fic of little! matt where in one of their vids he gets hella anxious and as soon as it ends he just needs you and needs to be in little space

Recording - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Sometimes being in front of camera is just too much to handle.

Warnings : mentions of anxiety, crying,

Word Count : 1438

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

As someone who already struggles with severe anxiety, the automatic pressure that came with sitting in front of a camera and having the knowledge that it was going to go out for millions of people to see was amplified by ten. There is a lot of expectation on Matt’s shoulders every time they get ready to film, and while the majority of the fanbase don’t mind when he’s more quiet in the content that they post, there is always a nagging feeling in the back of his own mind that it’s bothersome, not entertaining enough, that his personality needs to change a bit, and those strings of thoughts do get to him. Not often, but sometimes it is enough to cause some issues during, before, or after filming.

His brothers often cracked small jokes about him never talking, and while he was generally a quieter person, there was a part of him that was silent because of the fact that he was sitting in front of a camera, and anything he said would be on the internet forever, and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. Sure, they had a lot of stupid content out there, but that didn’t mean that the anxiety didn’t grab him by the throat every time the camera started rolling. He was doing better recently, it was not as bad, but he still had his moments.

Today was one of those days, where he felt like he couldn’t breathe as soon as the light on the camera let them know that it was recording. He had tried to fight through the massive lump in his throat, hoping that they would get enough good footage that Nick could cut out all the bad clips of Matt looking like he was about to cry, which would serve as taking out two birds with one stone, because then he wouldn’t be seeing any extra sad edits of himself in the driver’s seat all over his recommended pages. As much as he loved all of their fans, sometimes seeing how depressed or anxious or sad he looked made it worse because it reminded him that people really were watching his every move in those videos.

Matt really did love his job. He found it incredibly rewarding that he got to not only entertain but also bring comfort to people through just hanging out with the people that he had been around his entire life, and he wouldn’t want to change anything for the world. But he definitely wished that he could drop the crippling anxiety part of it, especially after such a bad recording day. Both Chris and Nick had noticed that he was off, more quiet than his normal persona on camera, and had tried to question him about it after they had stopped recording, but he had just brushed them off and told them that he was tired. He could tell that they didn’t believe him, but they didn’t push him any further.

While he normally let his brothers help him where they could, there were a couple times every now and then when he just wanted to keep to himself. This always had the potential to be self destructive, and in the past, it had been, but at this point in his life he had gotten to the point that he was asking someone to come over and spend time with him if he had turned his brothers away. It was the same person every time. It was always you. Sometimes you were there with his brothers, if they had called for him, or if he had opened up enough to let them in too after you were already helping him. He wasn’t always wanting his brothers to see exactly what goes on in his most personal moments, because he held a lot of fear over their potential reaction if they saw what he really used to calm down.

You were more than just Matt’s partner. You were also his caregiver, the person he trusted with the most vulnerable parts of him. You absolutely adored him, and had never once taken that trust for granted. You had no intentions to ever do so. Neither of you could deny the fact that Matt’s way of coping was unconventional, not as heard of as some others, but also infinitely more helpful to his mind than other things he could have chosen. He had already known he was a little before he met you, and while it was a terrifying thing for him to talk to you about, he didn’t think he could be in a relationship with someone who wasn’t open to being his carer, especially knowing he would probably be regressed much more often in a comfortable relationship.

Luckily, you had already known what he was talking about, and had been a carer in the past. You were more than open to loving that side of your boyfriend, and the relief that washed over his face when you told him that both made you smile and hurt our heart, knowing exactly how difficult it probably had been for him to tell you. Matt’s persona as a little was not very far off from his persona outside of his headspace. As you grew to learn his mannerisms and behavior, you recognized that he seemed to be basically the same person, just younger, smaller. He hovered around a toddler age, but he wasn’t chaotic. He was quiet, reserved, and didn’t talk much, but he was incredibly affectionate. When he was interested in something, you never heard the end of it, but he was content to just sit in your arms silently for a long period of time.

However, the already small amount of talking completely disappears when Matt is pushed into his headspace from a negative force, like his anxiety. When it gets too bad, he cries a lot, doesn’t speak much, and stays absolutely glued to your side. You normally come over to find him staring in silence, not little, but as soon as you’re hugging or talking to him, he’s crying and it pushes him right in. If it gets terribly bad, it can push him into a younger state, but that is normally when the entire day has been absolutely brutal. Today hadn’t been brutal, but it hadn’t been great either, so you could tell you’d have an upset little when you received the text asking you to come over, and quickly.

He never really wanted to talk when you got there, so you never pushed him. If he wanted to open up he would, and you knew that if he felt comfortable enough to slip into his headspace around you, when he wanted to talk, he would feel comfortable enough to do so. It didn’t take you long to get there, potentially speeding by more than you should have, but you easily entered after pulling into the driveway, using the key Matt had given you a couple of months ago. You greeted Nick and Chris quickly, moving up the stairs to Matt’s room. You could find him in this house if you were blind, but you still knocked on the door to let him know that it was you outside of it before entering.

Opening the door, your eyes were met with a scene that was unfortunately fairly normal, but it still broke your heart every time. You immediately sat down next to him, positioning yourself at the base of the headboard, pulling him into you, a gentle pout forming on your lips when you felt his shoulders shake against you. You whispered comforting words for a long time, softly rubbing his back and running your hands through his hair, two things that often proved to be very effective in relaxing and calming him down. You could tell by his body language when he slipped, as his shoulders relaxed, and his arms held you a lot tighter, as if you were going to fly away.

Comforting an upset little could sometimes be chaotic depending on the level of upset, but Matt normally just cried. It was often just sad to see how much pain he was in, but his littlespace really did help him. He didn’t hide his feelings and was much more open and willing to tell you what was going on, wholly trusting you with his entire being. But despite everything he had deal with so far that day, he knew that once he was wrapped up in your arms with his comfort items and a show playing, he was going to be just fine.

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

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etoilesombre · 4 months ago

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Hi im a new here i finally watched black sails after someone convinced me. And im changed. I'm. Yeah. I'm not who i was before. It's a bizarrely good show?

I'm so so so glad that so many ppl on ao3 agree with me that flint and silver need to fuck. Have fucked. Will fuck.

This will be all i think about for the next month or so.

If you have fic recs do let me know. I'm in dire need.

Hi my friend and welcome to hell! It's the best, right? ("Month" is a HIGHLY optimistic estimate about how long this will consume your brain...)

So honored that you asked for recs! I don't think I've ever compiled a general list of favorites, I had a great time and I think I'm happy with the results. This is by no means comprehensive, and obviously HIGHLY reflective of my own tastes, which are... uh.. I am known to not enjoy nice things very much. I invite others to reblog with their own favorites. Here we go...

Notes: These are in vaguely chronological order. I'm including word count and brief descriptions so you know what you're getting into but no warnings or anything, that's all on AO3. They are all silverflint and all explicit (I think, there might be one or two 'mature' in there but, this is the they need to, have, and will fuck list.) I didn't include any of my own work because presumably that's how you found my blog so you're aware, but I do have a pinned list, and if you want recs for mine or to talk about any of these just message, I will talk about silverflint all day.

Overall Recommendations:

The Most Unexpected Things by forbiddenarchives (~20k words) I think this one is a great starting point. It is very.. fic flavored fic, if that makes sense, in a great way. Hits the spot. The author's description is "season 2 if everyone were 5000% hornier" and that is accurate. Note this is marked as unfinished, but the place it wraps up feels totally reasonable to me.

As Good as Gone by spinninginfinityboy (~5.5k words) Complicated hot weird semi-hate sex on the way to Charles Town. A thing with a Spanish Dubloon that is emblazoned on my brain forever.

Combat by equestrianstatue (~10k words) A two part series, which I think captures the push-pull early frenemies vibe of s1-2 perfectly. Also the writing itself is stellar.

All alone in a moonlit shanty by PrimalScream (4.3k) Celebrating a good day hunting, Flint gets very drunk and tells the crew a dirty story. Silver tries to put him to bed, but he has different ideas. By far one of the lighter things on this list.

after the winnowing by princesskay (~14k) Set after Silver loses his leg, early in his recovery. Silk pajamas, multiple orgasms and overstimulation as well as their usual codependent fuckery.

What It Feels Like Not to Hurt by Robotboy (~9k) Another recovery fic. As the author says, it's 9k of slowburn watersports but really it's about Silver's pain and autonomy and humiliation and. Just. Even if it's not your usual cup of tea it's hot, give it a try.

vigia by doomcountry (~3k) A short, perfect rendering of their dynamic during early s3 raid times. Heartwrenching character study, excellent porn.

The Sack of James Flint by princesskay (~107k) So, yes, this is a novel length sub!Flint cock and ball torture series. I would make the argument that it is one of the best character studies in the fandom, for real. Absolutely worth your time, but fuck, it hurts your heart as much as your captain's balls in the end.

Concurrence by ember_firedrake (~2.5k) Mid s3. The first time they call each other by their first names. Now, that's not actually a thing I think they do, but, good porn and lower angst.

appreciation by nysscientia (~8k) Flint cultivates a certain aloof persona, but Silver sees right through it, and eventually they kiss about it.

Don't Fear The Ships (Fear The Black) by Farasha (~10k) - Silverflint use learning to sail as a coded way to flirt and talk about feelings (and eventually they kiss about it).

A Ship Is A Republic by Robotboy (~20k) A slow burn fic set during the inter-season sword training times. Love this dynamic, this author does power bottom Flint and sub Silver so fucking well.

deliverance is ours by the light of the stars by piratecaptainraven (3.1k) Flint sees Silver and Madi together, and doesn't stop watching when he should. They don't technically fuck in this, but its SO much pining, and the writing is poetic and gorgeous.

frail and fragile bars by ajaxthegreat (~21k) Possibly the hottest thing I've ever read, this rewrote my brain chemistry. Slow burn-ish. It captures that late season love and dependence and resentment and power struggle.

Cold, Dark, Depraved by notfelix (~10k) When fucking fixes absolutely nothing. This hurts in a way that feels, to me, similar to canon. I hate it (affectionate).

Opportunist by anonymous (~6.1k) This was part of the kinkmeme event (see below) and it fucking changed me. If I recommend one fic and only one fic to process the ending, it's this. It's awful. It's necrophilia and light cannibalism. It's the only thing I can imagine happening after, if Silver actually shoots Flint on that island. It makes me feel bad in the best way.

hand in unlovable hand by brinnanza, Jaynovz (~9.9k) Affectionately known as the worst ending AU, this is actually a great followup to the last one. How Silver copes, after Skeleton Island.

Bonus: AUs. I don't generally read AUs, but these two worked for me, in very different ways that still felt very silverflint.

did the twin flame bruise paint you blue by Jaynovz (138k) Novel length mod AU where silverflint broke up, and we see their relationship along two different timelines, before and after. Toxic fucked up goodness, lots of BDSM dynamics, bonus silvervane! All set in NYC.

holy ghost fire by ajaxthegreat (~52k) Appalachia horror au! The author clearly knows the area, and silverflint is already a ghost story, so it works really well. If you've ever been there you'll know how right it feels, if not, just trust me.

extra bonus: fic event collections and rec lists

kinkmeme

built on sand

beach blanket black sails

@jaynovz has also compiled a number of much more specific rec lists, which can be found at #jay's esoteric rec lists

#this was a really fun project thanks anon!#black sails #fanfic #black sails fanfic #silverflint #fic recs #asks #anon asks #answered

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antimony-medusa · 7 months ago

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*I emerge from several weeks of talking about conceptualizing my cubitos and who else populates their world and what the precise nature of the character is* Hello. Hi. It's time for my twice-yearly thoughts on RPF.

Okay so I was one of the people who was emailing Ao3 about it when we had all of MCYT wrangled into VBRPF going please please please please can we have our own server tags pleeeeeeease I promise it's not just video blogging rpf pleeeeeeease my streamer doesn't have wings in real life pleasssssseeee— and my general stance is that writing about Dream SMP characters is writing about characters, it's not RPF.

Not quite. It's not quite RPF. There is a meaningful distinction there, but it's not a really huge one. That distinction exists and is important to me in how I conceptualize those characters and whether I'm mentally going "okay I need to study lore streams for vocal patterns" for voice research or if I'm going "okay I need to pull up technocord logs " to get techno voice right. What I consider the authoritative canon "character" is a rp guy who spawns withers, not a real streamer in california with a little white dog.

But like I do multifandom exchanges and I wander into them with my cubitos clutched tight in my palms, and I see what other fandoms look like— and importantly, I see what other rpf fandoms look like— and guys, I think that line is legitimately blurry and I think that's literally fine. If I walk into a mulltfandom space with my guys they're going to squint at me and go "rpf fandom— kinda, I think" and I can go "hahaha, not quite", but also I do not blame other people for thinking this is RPF cause like— there are a lot of similarities!

What MCYT tends to classify as "RPF" is directly stories operating in a world where the characters are streamers, they post on twitter, they have lunch with the CEO of twitch. And anyone not writing that, is obviously not writing RPF. And that is not untrue, up to a point, but there is a broad category of fics that tend WAY harder into the pure fictional that are still considered RPF fandoms, if you actually check what other RPF fandoms are doing. There are 599 works in "Demon Shane Madej", many of which are in AUs that have no connection to the real world other than the character relationships, and they're still officially considered RPF.

I have a friend who's in a c-drama rpf fandom that has a rpf ship they really like, and a really popular thing is to take the various characters these actors have played (totally fictional characters from various media) and ship them together. And that's just a crossover of two fictional mediums, but because the thread connecting them is two guys in real life, that's considered RPF.

The banddom tags are absolutely COMPLETELY full of aus that are not set in the real world at all, no connection to the music industry, and what the people in those fandoms will say is like yeah, I have no idea about the real guy, I'm working with a character/persona who's put on for the stage and interviews and personas, and that guy is not REAL, who knows what the real guy is like, but like, I like the persona, I deal with the persona, and then they put that persona in an au where he kisses other personas— and this gets considered RPF.

Wrestler RPF is directly dealing with invented characters who are beating the bloody snot out of each other (hot), they have names like "the undertaker", dealing with scripted storylines, but it still get considered RPF.

And like, I look at myself as I am entering my third year of writing Technoblade most of the time, and what I'm doing here and— there are a lot of similarities in what I'm doing to what other RPF fandoms are doing. I'm a fan of the DSMP character but I'm also a fan of the guy, so I want to play in this extended universe, so I want to include nods to his other stuff. So I will pepper in a cheeky nod to the potato war here, I'll mention hypixel there, etc, kind of make an extended Technoblade universe. And I think that's not RPF (quite) because I'm working from a fictional canon that includes references to the potato war and hypixel etc, I'm just expanding on it, but like, this is literally what my friend in c-drama rpf does as well when she's writing aus about her guy. It's kind of close to RPF. That line is not really obvious to the casual viewer.

So I do not blame anyone else if they look at what we're doing and they go ah, nods wisely, you are a rpf fandom, I've seen this before, and we go um actually, hahah, you'd think that, but no, and then they nod and clearly do not understand how it's not a RPF fandom.

But the thing is it's literally fine if people think that, I think. RPF is not the end of the world. It's just a bunch of people working with people's various performancesonas and worksonas and having fun with it. Spoilers for mythbusters in the real world, but we now know that by the end of mythbusters adam and jamie were not really friends, but most of the mythbusters rpf keeps them as friends because that was the professional persona they provided for the camera, and that was the fictional world the writers wanted to live in. I don't think it's a problem if someone wants to write straight up streamer fic, you do you, and that's unequivocally RPF, but once you start getting into AUs and extended universes and bringing emduo content into qsmp and writing fic based on GIGS streams, the line legitimately gets WAY more blurry.

I think a bunch of fic (including my fic) can start to exist in a "both things are true" state where it's drawing from direct fiction but it's also drawing from a lot of stuff that other fandoms would consider RPF sources, and like, I don't mind this. I don't think it's bad if you're doing this too. We're not getting more DSMP content, the fandom police are not gonna turn up at your house if you want to pull strongly from minecraft monday for your fic. Do schlackity on QSMP. Do a DSMP extended future where tommy gets tubbo to marry him for a bit and then tubbo immediately demands a divorce. The canon of material we have to draw on is not something where big obvious lines exist between "rpf content" and "pure fiction" if you step at ALL outside of canon-compliant. Like fuck, in my very first DSMP longfic I included all these hermit cameos and mcc references which would make it RPF in any other canon, but also I was pulling mainly from the prison arc lore and beats and relationships for the core, which is NOT rpf, and at this point it is not worth the hassle in my head to draw a strong distinction between them.

It's kinda RPF. It's not quite RPF. It's fictional. It's based in the real world. It's all personas. it's drawing on off-lore-stream dynamics. It's drawing on scripted scenes where my streamer had his camera in lore mode. It's COMPLICATED to unpick and I legitimately think that's fine. RPF is literally fine, some people are gonna think we're writing RPF, it's not the end of the world. Just have fun with it.

#fandom meta #dsmp

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sidekick-hero · 5 months ago

Text

First Love, Second Chance (Part 5)

(steddie | explicit | @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt "make up sex" | tags: exes to lovers, canon divergence (Eddie lives), future fic (set 2001), Top!Steve, Bottom!Eddie, emotional sex | Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Find the whole thing on AO3

“Eddie,” Steve half-laughed, half-gasped, “Eddie, come on, let me open the door before we get arrested for public indecency.”

Eddie groaned against Steve’s neck, where he’d been busy leaving a trail of marks, but he loosened his tight grip just enough for Steve to fish his keys out of his pocket. It took him a few attempts—Eddie’s hot mouth biting and licking along his skin made it hard to concentrate—but with a triumphant little “A-ha!” Steve managed to push the door to his apartment open. The two men stumbled inside, into the darkness of the hallway.

For once, Steve was grateful that Robin had moved in with her girlfriend about a year ago, leaving him to find an affordable place on his own. If they were still roommates, he and Eddie would have had to come up with some other plan for alone time after sneaking out of the event.

A pang of guilt hit him for leaving his date behind so abruptly. Lisa had been great—a woman he could have seen himself with if he hadn’t just realized, with absolute clarity, that his perfect match was standing right in front of him. He silently vowed to ask the agency to send her a gift with a note that read something like, “I’m so, so sorry for being such an ass, but the love of my life came back, and I couldn’t let him slip away again.”

Before he could finish the thought, he was slammed against the wall with a soft “Oomph!” The impact knocked the breath out of him, but Steve barely had time to inhale before Eddie’s mouth was on his again, eager and demanding, lips soft and tongue insistent. Who needed air, anyway, when he had Eddie Munson’s kisses to keep him alive?

They kept kissing, the only sounds in the dark hallway their ragged breaths and the soft, wet glide of their mouths against each other. Steve had missed this—not just the physical attraction or the raw, undeniable chemistry that made every moment with Eddie electric, but something deeper. He'd had plenty of sex with plenty of people before and after Eddie, some of it really good, even great. But it almost felt unfair to compare anyone to Eddie.

Because what he missed most was the way Eddie made him feel.

For most of his life, Steve felt like he was just playing a series of roles: the obedient son, the all-American golden boy, the Casanova, the babysitter, the chauffeur. All these personas crafted to win attention, admiration, maybe even affection. Some kind of love.

But with Eddie, none of those roles mattered. With Eddie, he was enough. More than enough. He was everything. He could feel it in every touch, every brush of Eddie’s fingers along his cheek and down his neck. He heard it in the way Eddie’s breath hitched whenever Steve touched him back. He tasted it in Eddie’s fervent kisses, the way he couldn't seem to stop himself from claiming Steve's mouth, over and over again. Most of all, Steve could see it in Eddie’s gaze—a gaze that found him like a compass needle pointing true north, no matter the room or the crowd.

To feel Eddie’s undivided attention on him again, after being deprived of it for so long, was almost overwhelming.

When their lips finally parted to gulp down much-needed air, Steve rested his forehead against Eddie’s, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. He stared into Eddie's eyes, illuminated faintly by the light filtering through the street lamps outside. He hadn’t even had time to flip on the lights before Eddie was on him, and it felt like they were teenagers again—caught in that intoxicating swirl of hormones and love, a heady mix that made him feel drunk on desire.

"Are you sure?" Eddie whispered in the tiny space between them. At Steve's soft, questioning sound, Eddie nudged his nose against Steve’s and clarified, "I feel like if we keep going, we're headed straight for a home run. And I'd love that, Stevie, more than anything. But only if it’s what you want, too. Whatever happens next, I’m all in—completely and enthusiastically. If you send me home right now and tell me to call you tomorrow, I’d go, and I’d spend the whole night thinking about everything I want to learn about you and your life here, everything I want to share about mine. If you asked me to come to bed and just hold you, I’d feel like the luckiest bastard alive."

Eddie finally drew in a breath, like he’d been holding it in since he started speaking. Then he gave Steve that smile—the one Steve could easily fall in love with if he hadn’t already been there for years.

A giddy laugh escaped Steve, unable to help himself. "How could you not know?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow, amused. "Know what?"

"I’ve been sure since the first time you kissed me," Steve replied, "and then tried to bolt in a panic—until you realized you still couldn’t walk very far and fell down like a baby giraffe."

Eddie snorted, joining in the laughter. “You make me sound incredibly suave and sexy.”

With a grin, Steve tugged Eddie closer by the lapel of his coat and kissed him again, keeping it sweet and teasing. “Oh, you are, baby. So suave. So sexy.”

Eddie placed a hand over his heart with a mock-offended look. “Now you’re just mocking me. I’m mortally wounded—the knife twisted by the very man who owns my heart. Et tu, Brutus—”

Steve decided to silence Eddie’s theatrical rambling with another kiss, deeper this time, while pushing Eddie's coat off his shoulders. Eddie’s words melted into a pleased hum as Steve’s fingers moved deftly, unbuttoning Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure,” Steve panted against Eddie’s lips, pausing just long enough to look him in the eye. “I want this. I want you. We’ll figure out the rest, step by step.”

“You have me, sweetheart, for as long as you want me,” Eddie vowed, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m done running.”

“Good,” Steve whispered, his voice quiet but sure. It felt like time had stopped around them, the air between them thick and heavy like warm honey. Suddenly, Steve wanted nothing more than to see Eddie clearly, to look into those familiar brown eyes that always gave everything away.

Steve quickly shrugged off his own coat and pulled his shirt over his head. He couldn't help but smirk at the soft groan Eddie let out, his hands instantly finding their way to Steve’s chest, fingers threading through his chest hair. “God, I missed this. My precious.”

Steve chuckled, hooking his fingers into Eddie’s waistband and starting to tug him toward the bedroom. “I see your weird obsession with my chest hair is still going strong,” he teased.

Eddie followed him eagerly, his hands roaming over Steve’s skin like he was trying to memorize the feel of him all over again. “Can you blame me?”

Finally reaching the bedroom, Steve wasted no time pulling Eddie toward the bed, pushing him down onto the mattress. Eddie bounced, laughing with delight at how the scene felt like it could be from a cheesy porno. But his laughter quickly faded when Steve flicked on the bedside lamp and let his hands drift down his chest toward his waistband, making a show of getting undressed. Steve popped the button on his jeans, his hips swaying with a teasing slowness. His hands slid down his muscular thighs, accentuated by the tight fit of his Levi’s, before moving back up to tug at the zipper.

Just as Steve grabbed the waistband to pull his jeans down, Eddie slid off the bed, dropping to his knees in front of him in one fluid motion. Steve caught the slight wince that crossed Eddie’s face.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asked, concern threading through his voice. He knew Eddie had a habit of hurting himself in the name of sexiness.

Eddie chuckled, nodding. “Just my knees reminding me of the inevitable passage of time.”

Steve’s fingers threaded through Eddie’s curls, still as full and dark as they were the first time he’d done this. “Is that your way of telling me I should go easy on you, old man?”

He wasn’t prepared for Eddie’s response—a swift, almost desperate yank at the back of his thighs that pulled him closer, Eddie’s face nuzzling against the hard length straining against the metal of his open fly. The wet heat of Eddie’s mouth through the thin fabric of Steve’s boxer briefs was enough to draw a low, needy moan from his lips.

“Easy on me?” Eddie rasped, his voice already rough like he’d spent hours worshiping Steve’s body. “That’s the last thing I want. I want to make up for every single day we lost. I want you to claim me all over again, and then I want to return the favor. I want to forget there was ever a time I didn’t belong to you.”

With that, Eddie tugged Steve’s pants and underwear down in one swift motion, leaving him completely bare under Eddie's ravenous gaze. Eddie licked his lips like a starving man eyeing his favorite meal. The intensity in Eddie's eyes sent a wave of heat through Steve, his body already trembling with anticipation.

“You know, the first time I saw you naked, my first thought was how fucking unfair it was," Eddie murmured, almost sounding offended even as his gaze raked over Steve's body. "How can everything about you be so goddamn pretty… even your dick?”

His voice was thick with admiration, his long, dexterous fingers wrapping around Steve’s hard length in exactly the way Steve loved. Steve opened his mouth to respond, but the words got lost in his throat as Eddie, wasting no time, sank his mouth down over Steve’s cock. The wet heat, the sensation of Eddie's lips and tongue, overwhelmed him, making his knees nearly buckle.

In the five years they'd been together, they had learned each other inside and out, knew exactly how to make the other come in mere minutes, how to touch and kiss and lick and fuck until the other was a trembling mess. So it didn’t surprise Steve that Eddie still knew every single thing that drove him mad with lust. Eddie’s clever tongue focused on the head of his cock, teasing the slit, swirling around it, before suddenly sinking down in one smooth move until his nose was buried in Steve’s pubic hair.

“Fuck,” Steve hissed, doubling over as his hands gripped Eddie’s curls tightly, anchoring himself in place. He felt Eddie smirk around him, clearly proud of the reaction he’d provoked. But Steve couldn’t even begin to care, not when Eddie started moving up and down his length, his tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, tracing the vein, humming with pleasure every time he hit the back of Eddie’s throat. It was the sweetest kind of torture, Eddie’s mouth working him over with practiced ease while he gazed up at Steve with those dark, adoring eyes. Like blowing Steve was a privilege, like Steve himself was a wonder Eddie had been lucky enough to find.

It wasn’t like Steve had lived like a monk all these years. If anything, his stamina had only improved with age and experience. But somehow, with Eddie worshiping him on his knees, he felt like he was seconds away from the edge, like he could come just from the way Eddie looked at him.

“Baby, if you want a home run tonight, you gotta stop,” he managed to gasp out, his voice breathless as if he’d just finished a marathon — though, knowing from experience, marathon sex with Eddie could be even more exhausting than an actual marathon.

Eddie reluctantly pulled off, taking a moment to catch his breath before playfully biting Steve’s hipbone. “Remember when we could go several rounds in one night?” He sighed with mock wistfulness, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

“Actually, Robin and I decided to repress the entire era when Reagan was president,” Steve replied with a grin. Then he carefully pulled Eddie back up to his feet, mindful of his knees that had seen better days. No one warned them that hitting their mid-thirties would feel like this. His respect for Hopper, Joyce, and even Murray had grown exponentially since getting closer and closer to the age they were when they first battled monsters from the Upside Down. Some days, he didn’t even feel like running to catch the bus.

They shared a kiss that started almost chaste — if not for the lingering taste of Steve on Eddie’s tongue. “Catcher or pitcher?” he asked, a playful edge to his voice.

“Huh?” Eddie looked dazed from the kiss, swaying forward like he was chasing Steve’s lips. The sight was impossibly endearing.

Steve chuckled softly. “You wanna catch or pitch? You know, for our home run.”

To Steve's surprise, Eddie let out a pained groan at the question. “I hope you know I blame you and only you for the fact that I even get that fucking metaphor, let alone finding it as hot as I do.”

Smirking, Steve reached out to cup the bulge in Eddie's pants. "Hmmm. I don’t know, this doesn’t feel like you’re all that mad about it, Munson." He squeezed, delighting in the way Eddie twitched beneath his hand. "And you still haven’t answered me. You wanna spread me out on my bed and make me take this," he said, stroking Eddie through his jeans, "inch by inch, feel me squeeze tight and hot around you?” Eddie’s hips jerked into Steve’s touch, a needy whimper escaping his lips at the image Steve was painting with his words.

“Or do you want me to undress you slowly," Steve continued, "lay you down, lick and finger you open until you’re begging for me? Let me give you everything you want, take you apart and put you back together? Hold you down and fuck you so good you forget everyone else who ever touched you but me?”

Steve had never been one for sharing, and while he didn’t hold it against Eddie that there had been others while they were apart — he had been with other people too, after all — a darker, more primal part of him wanted to remind Eddie exactly who he belonged to.

His hand never stopped teasing, and by now Eddie was clutching Steve's forearms tightly, his hips undulating, seeking more friction, more pleasure. "This. That. What you just said. Please, Stevie. Want you to."

“Want me to what?” Steve demanded, his voice low, rough with need. He wanted Eddie to say it. He needed Eddie to say it.

“Want you to show me I’m yours,” Eddie breathed, eyes dark with desire.

And who was Steve to deny them what they both so obviously wanted?

He kept his promise and undressed Eddie slowly, his hands trembling with the need to explore every inch of the beloved body beneath them once more. He found new tattoos, but also a few more scars that hadn't been there the last time they were like this. Steve made a mental note to ask Eddie about them later. Right now, he simply pressed soft kisses against each new mark he discovered, silently vowing to love them as much as he loved every other part of Eddie.

Once they were both naked, Steve murmured for Eddie to get onto the bed on all fours. Eddie obeyed without hesitation — a miracle in itself, showing just how much he needed this, needed him. Steve took a moment to gather the lube and condoms from the bedside drawer. He took a moment to mourn the fact that they had to use a condom, wishing he could feel Eddie bare, skin to skin, but he knew it was the right thing to do. At least until they could talk about being exclusive again and get tested.

When he turned back toward the bed, Steve's breath hitched at the sight before him. Miles of pale skin stretched out before him, adorned with black ink and pink scars, old and fresh alike — testaments to the battles Eddie had fought and survived. His body was leaner, his shoulders broader, his arms more defined, but he still retained that wiry frame that always drove Steve wild. Eddie's cock hung full and heavy between his spread legs, his back arched in a way that put his ass on perfect display, open and inviting, ready for Steve to take.

"You should take a picture, might last you longer," Eddie teased, glancing over his shoulder with a wicked grin.

Steve chuckled, momentarily caught off guard by the idea. He still had a few grainy, clandestine photos of Eddie from back in the day, capturing their moments in bed, raw and unguarded. The thought was tempting, and he mentally filed it away for later. For now, he put the lube and condoms within reach and settled in behind Eddie, his hands moving instantly to the soft flesh of Eddie’s ass, stroking and squeezing, relishing the heat and softness under his palms.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, unable to keep the awe from his voice, feeling Eddie shiver beneath his touch.

Determined to show Eddie exactly how much he meant every word, Steve leaned in, diving between those enticing cheeks without hesitation. His tongue, wet and insistent, teased at Eddie's rim, making a point to keep it as sloppy as possible. He knew how much Eddie loved the filthy, wet sounds and the sensation of spit trickling down to his balls.

Eddie’s hoarse moans, punctuated by his breathless mix of praise and pleading, were like music to Steve’s ears. One of his favorite things about sex with Eddie was how unapologetically loud and expressive he was — just as passionate in bed as he was about everything else in life. For Steve, his partner's pleasure had always been paramount, and knowing he could make Eddie feel this way filled him with a deep, satisfying pride.

It had been a revelation for Steve when he realized that his talents with his mouth could be applied to a man just as effectively as with all the girls he'd been with during his days as King Steve. Back then, his oral skills were the stuff of legend, and when he figured out how to use them on Eddie, they’d both reached new heights of sexual fulfillment.

“Oh my god,” Eddie gasped, voice raw and strained as he pressed the words out between desperate moans. “Your fucking mouth.”

Steve chuckled against him, tongue still buried inside, amused by the way Eddie unknowingly mirrored his own thoughts. He knew he could make Eddie come like this, with just his mouth — he’d done it many times before — but tonight, they had something different in mind. Reluctantly, he pulled back, biting playfully at the plush curve of Eddie's right cheek before grabbing the lube from the pillow beside Eddie’s head.

His first finger slipped inside easily; Eddie was already stretched by his tongue, his body pliant and eager. Steve could feel the heat and tightness around his finger, and as much as he wanted to draw this out, to tease Eddie until he was a trembling mess, his own need was overwhelming. He wanted to be as close to Eddie as humanly possible, to feel every inch of him, to erase every bit of distance that had ever been between them.

One finger was soon joined by another, Eddie’s body yielding easily, drawing Steve in. “Taking it so well, baby. So eager for me to fuck you, huh?”

“Ye-yes, fuck, please, don’t need another finger, just you, I—” Another moan, high and needy, slipped from Eddie’s lips. “I can take it, you know I can,” he babbled, hips pushing back against Steve’s hand, fucking himself on his long fingers. Eddie was right; Steve knew he could sink in just like this. They’d always used their fingers to drive each other wild, not because they needed the stretching. When they were too impatient or time was scarce, they’d often skip the foreplay altogether.

Steve had wanted to take his time, to make up for all the days and nights they’d missed, but he realized there was too much pent-up desire, too much yearning for each other. The need to be close was overwhelming in its intensity. They could take their time later, once the burning urgency had softened into something slower and more languid.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” Steve promised, stroking Eddie’s trembling back like he was soothing a skittish animal. He could feel the tension in Eddie’s body, taut and electric. “Eddie, baby, can you turn around for me?” His hands continued their gentle path, trying to calm whatever had Eddie on edge.

Eddie turned slowly, reluctantly, until he was sitting in front of Steve again. He was still hard, his skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, and his dark eyes were wide and uncertain. His bottom lip, red and swollen from his own teeth, trembled as he avoided Steve’s gaze.

“What’s going on? You seem nervous. Do you want to stop?” Steve asked, his voice filled with concern. Eddie had been so eager, so hungry for this — but what if he felt pressured, like he had to do it just to keep Steve?

Eddie shook his head but kept his eyes downcast, something clearly weighing on his mind. Steve reached out, lacing their fingers together, and brought Eddie’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “You can talk to me. Whatever it is, it’s okay. Remember what you said? Whatever happens next, I’m all in. We can stop right now; I’ll make us some cocoa or tea, and we can cuddle or talk, whatever you need. And I’ll still want you just as much.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say because Eddie squeezed his hand, thumb brushing over Steve’s knuckles as he finally spoke. “I don’t want to stop. I want this… I want you… so much. That’s the problem.” At Steve’s confused hum, Eddie continued. “I’m scared, Stevie. It’s stupid, I know, but… God, I’m so fucking scared.”

“Scared? Of what? Of me?” Steve asked, his heart tightening in his chest.

Eddie finally looked up, and Steve’s heart broke at the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “Of how much I want you. How much I need you. It’s terrifying. I feel out of control, like I’ll break apart if you stop touching me.”

Steve’s heart clenched at Eddie’s admission, feeling the weight of every word settle between them. Eddie’s eyes, so wide and vulnerable, flicked up to meet his, and Steve saw the fear there — not of him, but of the intensity of what he was feeling. It was like a tidal wave, something too big to contain or control. He tightened his grip on Eddie’s hand, drawing him closer, feeling the heat and tremor of his body.

"Hey," he murmured softly, "it's okay. You're safe here. I know it feels like too much right now," Steve continued, voice low and soothing, "but it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to rush this. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for."

“I am ready,” Eddie insisted, the desperation in his voice making Steve's heart twist. "But it feels like — like if I let go, I’ll lose myself. Or worse, you. And I can't… I can't lose you again. Not when I just got you back."

Steve shifted closer, cupping Eddie's face with both hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "You’re not going to lose me," he promised, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie’s breath hitched, his eyes searching Steve's, and Steve leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips. He kept it soft, reassuring. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against Eddie’s, his hands still cradling Eddie’s face. “We’ll go as slow as you need. We have all the time in the world now. And if you need to stop, we’ll stop. But if you want me to keep going, I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

For a moment, Eddie just breathed, like he was soaking in Steve’s words, his promises. Then, he nodded, a small, tentative smile breaking through the anxiety in his eyes. "I don’t want to stop," he whispered, voice steadier now. "I just… needed to know you’re with me. That you feel it too."

“I do,” Steve replied, brushing a kiss to Eddie’s brow. “Believe me, Eddie, I never felt like this about anyone but you.”

Eddie swallowed, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Okay,” he breathed. “Then… don’t stop. Just… hold me while you do. Please.”

Steve's smile was gentle. "Always," he whispered, pulling Eddie closer, as if holding him while making love could ever be anything less than a joy.

The next few minutes felt like a dream. Steve never stopped touching Eddie, and Eddie never stopped touching him, their hands and bodies in constant, tender contact. Eddie rolled the condom over Steve’s length, slicking it with lube, while Steve kept caressing Eddie’s thighs, kneeling between his spread legs.

And then, finally, with Eddie on his back and Steve poised above him, he sank slowly into the familiar heat of Eddie’s body after years apart. Every movement was slow, deliberate, filled with care and affection. Their gazes were locked, fingers intertwined beside Eddie’s head, and it felt as if time had ceased to exist. Steve leaned down to capture Eddie’s lips in a tender kiss, hips flush against Eddie's, and they kissed again and again, the earlier urgency softened into something gentler, more profound.

When Steve began to move, his hips rolled languidly, their mouths never more than a breath apart. Eddie’s grip on his hands was firm, as if Steve were the only thing anchoring him to the present, holding him together with touch alone. Maybe he was. Steve certainly felt the same way about Eddie.

Their bodies fell into a rhythm that only they knew. They were pressed together from head to toe, chests flush, Eddie’s hard cock trapped beneath Steve’s stomach, Eddie’s legs wrapped tightly around Steve’s waist. It felt like they were caught in the eternal dance of the moon and the sea, Steve’s hips mimicking the ebb and flow of the tides, pushing into Eddie again and again. Beneath him, Eddie met every thrust with his own, welcoming Steve home with a smile Steve could feel on his lips.

“I love you,” Steve whispered against Eddie’s lips, aware of how insane it might sound to anyone else, but knowing the truth of it deep in his heart. The last ten years had melted away the moment their eyes met again. After learning what had caused Eddie to walk away all those years ago, and knowing Eddie had missed him just as much as he’d missed Eddie, those old feelings that had never quite disappeared resurfaced, filling his heart until they overflowed from his lips, just like they always had.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, his grip tightening almost painfully. “Steve—”

“You don’t have to say it back, but I needed you to know. I never stopped loving you, Eddie. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Thank God, because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you, too.”

Steve captured Eddie’s mouth in another passionate kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into it. He knew that this moment would forever be one of the best of his life.

Confessing their love seemed to ignite the earlier fire between them, bringing a fresh urgency to their lovemaking. Suddenly, all Steve wanted was to feel Eddie come because of him, to see him unravel from the pleasure he gave him. His hips picked up speed as he sought the perfect angle to hit Eddie’s prostate with every thrust, each raspy ah, ah, ah from Eddie like a siren’s call he followed, focused entirely on Eddie's pleasure.

Not to be outdone, Eddie began whispering in his ear, telling him how well he was fucking him, how perfect Steve’s cock felt, how Steve was made for him, making him feel like no one else ever had. Eddie’s voice, breathless and raw, promised he couldn’t wait for Steve to fuck him bare again, his cum dripping from his used hole, wanting Steve to push it back in, to mark him as his, and his alone.

Even with the way both of them focused on chasing heights of pleasure, Steve’s orgasm still snuck up on him, the only warning the tight coil in his belly that suddenly twisted painfully. “Fuck, baby, you’re making me come.”

“I’m close, so close, I just—I need—” Eddie’s voice was husky, desperate, and Steve knew exactly what he needed.

It was a tight fit to get his hand between them—neither of them willing to have any space separating them—but Steve managed, wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s cock. It was slick with precum and sweat, easing his strokes.

The keening moans falling from Eddie’s lips told Steve just how close he was, so he allowed himself to chase his own orgasm, thrusting into Eddie with short, forceful movements while stroking him just the way he knew Eddie liked it.

And when he felt Eddie clench around him, cum spilling between them and down his fingers, Steve finally let go. He came with a low, guttural fuck, his hips stuttering, his body tightening as he pressed in as deep as he could, filling the condom.

His arms gave out beneath him like a puppet with its strings cut, and he half-sank, half-fell onto Eddie, who let out a soft oof at the weight on top of him.

“Too heavy?” Steve asked, hoping for Eddie to say no so he could stay just like this.

“No,” Eddie replied with a soft smile, probably reading his mind, “stay. Please.”

“For as long as you want me to.”

He was rewarded with a kiss that felt like both a confession and a promise. “How does forever sound?”

“Perfect,” Steve whispered. “Forever sounds perfect.”

#steddie #steddie smut #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiesmuttyseptember #my writing #nsft

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angellayercake · 4 months ago

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Oh well @sakuraspoke if you insist on me rambling about Terzo who am I to refuse? ☺️

We know from some interview snippets about him that by the time he becomes papa he is bitter and he hates himself and he is somewhat of a recluse which is clearly a massive contradiction to the caring, entertaining, silly, sexy charmer we see on stage. That man seems a lot more in keeping with the description we see from Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis who describes Terzo during his time as a Cardinal. As being a visionary who cares for his flock and revels in sin.

So how did he get here and how does that relate to this song?

I think we can all agree that his hopes for what he would achieve during his reign as Papa were squashed very quickly. He clearly put up a fight and was starting to gain momentum by the end where perhaps he thought it might be possible (hence why he was dragged off stage, humiliated and murdered) but we can see that nothing really went to plan and this is what probably sent him down the spiral of depression and self hatred.

But to bring it all back to 'We'll never have sex'. He created a very specific persona that was very likable and charming and I have no doubt that those are aspects of his personality and he had no lack of partners within the Ministry and without. But they ONLY wanted the Charming Papa™ and when his darker side would reveal itself, his self loathing and dissatisfaction they would run for the hills, if they even stayed long enough to see it. Because he is Papa right? Sex god leader of the Satanic Church, champion of the female orgasm, he is above wanting to be loved or cared for.

He is lonely, depressed, hopeless and desperate for some connection. So he keeps up the facade, keeps accepting the one night stands and casual propositions just to stave off the loneliness for a night or two until he just can't anymore. He closes himself off and comes to terms with the fact that no one will ever want just him.

This is all my standard headcanon for him in general and most of my fics unless otherwise stated but this also leads specifically into banchetto so I will put that under a read more in case anyone doesn't care about that bit 😁

This is basically where he is emotionally at the beginning of Banchetto underneath the hurt about his removal from his position and his brothers interference etc.

So why does he do what he does to poor reader? Well I think personally he has forgotten how to relate to people romantically other than sex. He hasn't had a traditional 'relationship' for many many years probably since he was a very young man and first learned about falling in love and heartbreak.

When he realises that reader is attracted to him he also finds her a distraction from wallowing in his depression and even though he had grown to hate no strings sex he falls back on that easy seduction to give him that taste of connection he craves. That is until he realises how much he hurt her by playing with her and that's when he realises

1. He may have found someone who really does care for HIM not what they can get from Papa. She has seen him at his worst. Complete rock bottom and still she cares?

2. He is beginning to care for her too. He looks forward to seeing her everyday and the light she brings into his life. He wakes up earlier so he can be up as soon as she arrives and he wracks his brains for question after question so he can justify following her around as she works. It's only when she disappears for that week after he cornered her that he realises this though.

And this is why they are taking it so slowly (aside from the fact she really does have a job to do which he tends to forget and at this point has completely forgotten). She has picked up on the fact that this is unfamiliar territory for him and really there is no need to rush right? What could possibly bring their happy little domestic bubble to be popped??? 😈

On that note I will leave it there. If you have got this far I love you 😚😚

#terzo #headcanon #the band ghost #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #banchetto #a little bit #Spotify

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rubra-wav · 10 months ago

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Why So Blue? Vox x Reader

[ Part 1 - A Like Morning Unlike Others ]

A/N: I have a kind of loose idea of where I'm maybe taking this one, but I am very much open to any suggestions.

People asked to be tagged in what was going to be part 2 to the oneshot. My ideas changed a bit with this tho, and it's being rewritten as a fic from the start - sorry if this isn't what you really had in mind w that request 😭

[ Taglist ] @gigglesandshits @serendipitous-fernweh @valentinosbabycakes @ seriouslyaverage (won't let me @ ???)

[ part 2 ] >>

Cw: SFW, Gn!Reader, slight staticmoth reference

The morning you first showed up was like any other for the Video Star.

As always, Vox awoke at 7:00 am on the dot, staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds as his system warmed up properly for the day ahead.

After the 'sleep' cleared from his mind, he sat up and then climbed from his bed to quickly change before swiping his phone off his nightstand as he walked to the personal kitchen in his part of the building (he had it installed so he didnt have to see his colleagues before his persona was up to snuff) and began scrolling through his emails.

He opted for those from Carmine rather than Velvette or Valentino.

It was frankly too fucking early to deal with whatever bullshit they were yelling about on seemingly all of his socials in his mind. (a decision he'd come to regret rather soon)

Last night's hangover still clung to him, but he pushed through it. He was rather happy all things considered. Carmine's email confirmed that she was on board with partnering up for personal surveillance systems without much questioning, thankfully.

He was about to get even fucking richer.

He grinned widely at the prospect as he leisurely made his coffee - black, naturally - fantasising about how he'd be able to spy on hell's citizens even more with them literally installing surveillance cameras into their own homes for security purposes.

Those poor, desperate idiots practically exploit themselves!

Vox chuckled at the thought, humming as he walked in the direction of his broadcast room, scrolling to look over the email Carmine sent once again to fully understand all agreements. To try to see what he'd be able to push her into doing potentially.

The hatch to his lair broadcast room opened loudly and closed just as loudly behind him as his footfalls echoed in the silent room against the cold tiles.

Vox didn't look up once as he made his way to his seat.

He didn't need to.

He knew where everything was in here as nobody else was ever in here. And if they were?

Well, those demons wouldn't be 'employed' much longer, we'll say that.

His seat squeaked as he sat on it, sipping his coffee as he swiped through some more notifications.

He glanced at his monitor momentarily as he took a deep sip of coffee that would gross anyone else out, then promptly choked on it, gracelessly spitting some onto his keyboard and lap.

He felt truly chilled to the bone for the first time in a long while.

Wide, red eyes watched in horror as a very drunk version of himself from last night met him. In the video, he was shaking his hips from where he stood on a bar while singing (he assumed) shittily if his memory served right.

The video was muted from where it played on the screen of every monitor in his room, but he expected it.

His frozen present self watched himself in the video as drunk Vox stumbled and then proceeded to topple off-camera to the ground.

His instant assumption was that Valentino or Velvette had posted it online, but that was quickly off the cards when he noticed that not only were both of them watching him while laughing with no phones in their hands, but it was posted from his own fucking Sinstagram account.

It already had over a million likes, and it'd been up for only an hour at this point. His colleagues wrote surprised comments underneath, asking if he meant to post it. Valentino adding that Vox looked cute in it either way.

He could feel his fear and anger rising, loud zaps of electricity emitting from him already as his claws dug into either armrest of his desk chair, leaving long scratch marks on them which exposed the padding within.

Then he read the bottom caption of the looped post of himself and fully lost it.

'For someone who talks so big about being ahead technologically, it was awfully easy to hack old Boxy here.'

Vox lets out a loud, enraged yell, slamming his fist on his desk, promptly causing himself to Bluescreen and knocking out much of Pentagram's electricity in the process despite not being plugged into his set-up.

On the other side of the city, you laugh loudly as you watch the press conference where the Tech demon overlord fought to clean up his image.

It began just a few minutes after you were exposed to Vox's rage in the form of your lights shutting off.

It didn't affect your setup, of course. A certain someone you knew had helped you craft it, and it ran on a different server.

While others were still waiting for their shit to get back in order after Vox stopped plastering his rather strained grin on every screen, you were watching the press conference in one window while admiring how quickly his men raced to try and patch up the code you'd gotten through last time in another.

Of course, it hardly would do anything for you the next time around you decided to clown on him.

You shifted into a cross-legged position on the floor, glancing between the mess of old and new monitors surrounding you all interlocking with equally messy and tangled cables.

You passively wondered if anyone had been killed during all this, expecting yes, but not paying much attention to it. You couldn't do anything about what he decided to pull in response to your attacks.

Anything for your entertainment.

You cracked your fingers loudly as you began to prepare for the next bag of shit you'd be leaving on his doorstep.

Snickering with a smile, you watched his hypnosis ability activate, manipulating everyone watching outside of your own eyes.

They would forget this, but you wouldn't. And neither would Vox. You'd make sure all of them remembered you eventually.

Snorts and giggles echoed out in the silence of your small, shitty apartment as you mulled over all the things you had planned for the next few months.

Jesus christ, this would be fun.

Yeah, this reader isn't a good person either. They just wanna fuck around with Vox as much as they can and don't care much who becomes cannon fodder in the process.

I was considering also writing pt. 2 into this as well, but I figured that I would do this as just a taster for this series starting for the first post. Pt. 2 will be soon 🙏

Why So blue Masterlist (not much here yet obv)

Main Masterlist

#hazbin hotel #vox #vox x reader #vox headcanons #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox fanfiction #why so blue fic

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familyabolisher · 1 year ago

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haphazard assortment of thoughts on the unwanted guest:

firstly, it really does have to be said—crazy good, probably my favourite of all the tlt short pieces, and i say that as someone who lost my mind over as yet unsent for like a week. excellent conceit and excellent execution, just a really gorgeous piece of writing. the play format of course reminds me of what abigail says to harrow in htn—that the river bubble is a ‘play [she’s] directing’—the inside of one’s head as a stage in which other actors can intervene & whereby mileage can be gotten out of Symbolism as immediately “real,” tangible presences that the kind of realist baggage that a more quotidian prose form would usher in would probably falter in accomplishing. it’s a lot!! i think even if i wasn’t already a tazmuir writing style defender (contra the insistence that she’s yknow homestuck fanfiction serial numbers filed off hack) then this would have had me floored anyway.

the play format also works in the way that muir’s general dexterity in form and willingness to really make use of craft as a technical space where discourse can be generated always works—i’m talking about the ‘fanfictiony’ voice in gtn which manages to say something both about fanfiction and about the text itself, the use of the dramatis personae as a space where atmosphere can be established and plot points hinted towards (thus blurring the lines between what is and is not diegesis), the drastic shifts in style between different close thirds, the shifting from third- to second- to epistolary first-person, the use of poetry both diegetic and not (the noniad, the epigraph poems…), the mimicry of the ‘voice’ of the king james bible in the nona epilogue—she never stays in one place for too long and she never seems to stick to one central style or form, and it really works in her favour. insofar as tlt as a whole is a very ‘patchwork’ kind of work, building itself up from its big big index of references and intertexts and memes with hugely variant levels of ‘prestige’ or legitimacy attached to them, the ‘patchwork’ use of form really works in muir’s favour. however i am also fuming because i was right in the middle of writing a tlt fic which jumps into a play format two-thirds of the way through and now my idea doesn’t look ORIGINAL but ANYWAY—

& i really do need to flag my good friend vee’s mercy/augustine fic, which makes use of a similar conceit and pulls it off masterfully—i am deeply jealous of vee’s talent and i think the unwanted guest makes this piece (from 2021!) shine even more, if anything.

i am DYING to see where muir is going with the use of hamlet, of all things—dulcie quoting it to palamedes immediately catapulted my mind back to abigail’s reference to ‘that undiscovered country’ in htn. obviously muir likes to drop contemporary (or contemporarily canonical) references and turns of phrase all over the place, but the attention drawn to the quote as diegetically referential (“I like that. Is it from something?” / “Yes. It’s complicated.”) has me wondering about a) the survival of ‘pre-res’ literatures ~over the river and like WHY and b) what a thematic interlocking of tlt and hamlet can do, here…….real aveheads remember cytherea ophelia theory where i tried to use ophelia as a point of reference for teasing out some arguments about cytherea and death and aesthetics and white femininity and whatnot. all of which is to say i need to sit with this hamlet reading a lot more but i love it, i am so here for it.

of course ‘kissing or feeding, we can’t be sure’ calls to mind ‘how meat loves meat,’ alecto biting harrow’s mouth by way of a kiss…and the general thematic throughline of, you know, certain practices of love as practices of consumption, naberius later being figured as the ‘meat’ in question contains echoes of this eroticism which ofc guides the contours of the necromancer/cavalier dynamic, eroticism as a currency of power, we know all of this stuff because it’s all over the text but i am just thumbs-upping it from the sidelines

the coffins had me thinking of utena’s black rose arc, which is a fun link to make considering the equivalent moment in the main body of nona is also referencing utena, ie. with the ‘rules’ of the duel being that cam has to get the handkerchief out of ianthe’s pocket as kind of an equivalent to skewering the rose. i feel like the tlt/utena overlap is pretty self-explanatory but it’s just fun to see the fingerprints all over lol

i think a lot of this was treading old ground thematically (erotics of consumption, dog motifs, we’ve seen it already!) but i will say that i did Yell Out Loud over ‘who's she got dawdling behind her but that creature—tugging visibly at her leash like an overeager dog.’ reminded of the other memorable use of ‘leash’—’even the devil bent for god to put a leash around her neck’—and, of course, the endless parade of commonalities between gideon & alecto. anyway there’s not really anything in this line that we didn’t already know about gid as a character, thematically speaking, but i point it out because it inflicted +100 psychic damage when i read it. gideon as a ‘creature’ is particularly slimy, & sort of puts me in mind of ianthe's tendency to talk about what appears to us as 'butch masculinity' (as opposed to the more effete masculinity of augustine or even babs) with a notably derogatory slant (the 'hurtful threats of sexual violence' line comes to mind); i don't know that i have much to say about it here specifically but it's an interesting one that i think informs the kirianthe dynamic pretty heavily (especially when held up against, like, harrianthe ... ianthe has a kind of respect for whatever harrow's gay and stupid gender is Doing (at least insofar as she can mould it to her own desires; i'm thinking of the dios apate forcefemme scene lol) in ways that i don't think she has for kiriona? but this is v off-topic, lol).

i have never been especially taken by dulcie as a character but i think this may finally have forced me to fold and admit that she’s great. her haters!!! her agonies!!! camilla would have to cook!! the balance between levity and sincerity was really well-managed. & i love the double meaning of “unwanted guest” as both palamedes intruding on ianthe’s mind palace and naberius setting up shop inside of her.

i need a week to sit with where this idea of the consumed soul as being literally ‘digested’ such that it can begin to ‘inhabit,’ however immaterially, the host body, or like to alter the characteristics of the host body such that to carry out such a consumption is to kind of kill yourself as well, slots in with lolita theory. or like, i need alecto right now. i am however reminded of chew, a short story that muir wrote in 2013, which also plays with these ideas of sexual assault as a forcing of a part of yourself meaningfully ‘into’ another person, and cannibalism as the reenactment of such a process, figured in the story as kind of a reclamation or at least an assertion of permanence—“I was always going to be in the ground with him in me,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure, that’s all. I just wanted to make sure.”—which the unwanted guest seems to kind of, play with in reverse? i don’t know, but i’m interested—as ever—in where muir wants to take these ideas of rape and consumption and absorption that she’s got in her hands.

i keep returning to…i hesitate to say ‘parallels’ because i think that imposes a narrative onus that i’m not actually that convinced by, but these, like, commonalities between babs and gideon. gideon is played off against so many people (cristabel, loveday, alecto being the big ones) that it feels kind of inane to add another person to the pile, but like…they’re the two who get got in canaan house, they’re both ironically ‘false’ cavaliers and expressions of the ‘truest’ or most paradigmatic form that cavalierhood ‘can’/’should’ take, they both have unconventionally gendered names (‘babs’ is a shortened form of ‘barbara,’ it is a typically feminine name imo) and (by our standards) somewhat unconventional genders (gideon is butch, babs effete)—and of course the unwanted guest places a lot of emphasis on the coercive ‘making’ of cavalierhood (the reference to babs being ‘fixed’ were he to have a disability! ianthe’s glib ‘society really is to blame’ comment—ironic, obviously, but not wholly untrue) not dissimilar to the emphasis that gtn puts on cytherea moulding gideon into the state she comes to be in at the end. babs and gideon as the two possessed corpses in nona, obviously. two wildly diverse but ultimately converging trajectories! a dialectical tension between their fundamental ‘opposition’ (as by-the-book cavalier vs whatever gideon is doing) and their fundamental ‘sameness’ whereby the dialectic is resolved in their mutual deaths. also just, of course, continuing the throughline that muir has had going for a while now, of gender/gendering as a set of coercive enforcements loyal to a hegemonic structuring of the world.

that’s all i’ve got, i think. just. really good everyone say thank you tazmuir

#.txt #tlt #the unwanted guest spoilers #this was originally bullet points but tumblr's formatting is bad and i can't be bothered editing to improve the flow here. so.#rape cw

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tmwcs · 1 year ago

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HI REINAA!! sorry if im bothering you since ur busy w the series fics!! But i would really want to req another fic of sunoo hahaha. So reader is 8th member and pleeeaaadseee make it rlyy smutty!! It could be where yn teases sunoo during dinner and he gets hard then... but plsss make sunoo a sub in this thanks <3 (Fyi ur literally the best writer ever idk how u manage to write these so descriptively and managing to make me feel things LMAOO the other accs i follow wont reply my asks ☠️) thanks alot like alooottttttttt though!! <33

”Sunoo Baby.”

part 2 of “Ddeonu”.

Warnings: Sub/switch!Sunoo, Dom!Reader, unprotected smut, creampie smut, oral (both male and female receiving, demeaning behavior, submissive demands, ball tapping (you already know...), whining, hair pulling, smut dialogue, reverse psychology (not really but i dont know what else to call it.....you'll see what i mean) if you squint, there's a breeding kink....i think that's it.

You and the boys decide to grab a bit at a local hot pot eatery. No one knew of the event that unfolded the week prior of you and Sunoo's 'talk', and believe you, there were many more that followed suit.

.................................

"Look at how cute you look when you take in so much muscle."

"You look so cute when you cry."

"Get up, cutie."

..................................

You had to admit, Sunoo opening up and becoming fond of you allowed for a whole new version of yourself to rise. You loved his sassy and demeaning manners, the way he called you 'cute' and revealing how the more feminine side of your nature was something he had been wanting to see ever since the group had debuted. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders once you realized that all it took was for you to lighten up on your tomboyish persona, and be...well, a girl, for once.

But now you were comfortable. You gained closure and have little reason to expose that girlish nature, such as crying in the middle of the night, all because you thought a certain someone didn't like you. Well you were partially right, there was definitely a dislike, but it wasn't you, just your lack of girly attributes, and the reluctant hesitancy of doing what is the most commonly, demanding act in the industry, the 'ayego's.

Throughout dinner, you observed the way his sharp eyes flickered back and forth between black and hazel under the heat lamp. He was so beautiful. He told you of how important it was to not let anyone know of the secret love affairs that had been ongoing, so naturally that only meant he had to play the part well in acting out as a very nonchalant bastard. Trust you to say, he played the part well.

He'd glance over from time to time, even winking while everyone was nose deep in the menu's, but for some reason, you weren't feeling terribly satisfied. Sure it was nice for him to 'like' you now. One could even say that he cared a great deal for you, considering what he's said to you in bed. But there was something about him that you had wanted to pin down and crush; you're not exactly sure why, but now that there was closure between you two, you felt the need to establish yourself as the equal, especially since he caught you crying.

You ignored his advances, and even rolled your eyes at one point. He took note of your rather obscured behavior, and furrowed his brows in worry when no one was looking. You flared a side shoulder hunch while looking at him directly, mouthing the whispered words of "I'm going to destroy you."

Now Sunoo had an attitude of his own, but there was something rather peculiar when it came to someone matching his level. It's never happened before, yet he had to say, he was kind of digging it. He reaches below the table to gently tap his fingers along your kneecap, only for you to slap his hand way so roughly. Wincing slightly, he nearly gasps after witnessing your response to his touch.

"How could she?...."

He reiterates his action, only for yo to repeat your previous response and slap his hand away once more. Confused, Sunoo couldn't tell if he should have been offended or desired more of whatever game it was you were playing at. Something told him that it was the latter, and that 'something' was hardening under his trousers.

"Oh God..." he whispered under his breath, trying to shake his legs out strategically without anyone noticing. Nothing helped, even the cold ice water that he had 'accidently' dropped on his lap. The car ride home had to be the longest drive he felt in so long...

Once you all got back to the dorm, you bid goodnight and head to your room. Everyone else did the same, and went to sleep with fully tummies. Sunoo, on the other hand, was still hungry, and the way you had been treating him at dinner, he was famished.

Knocking on your door, he enters. "What's up with you? What was up with dinner?"

"Never mind. I'm going to bed."

"Why are you being so---"

"So what?....Cute?" you scoffed out as you raised a brow his way. "I'm glad we got to clarify our feelings, I just wish you could embrace my tomboy-ish ways just as you can with my feminine manners."

Sunoo gulps down a lump of saliva. "Well then...show me."

"What?"

"I got a taste of it at dinner...and....not gonna lie, I kind of want more." he admits, side-eyeing the wall out of embarassment. You never saw him this way, but considering he's loved on you for over a week now, maybe he really did see the light in all of your attributes, to include your non-girlish ones. Just to be sure, you put it to the test.

"Come here." you speak out in a rather high pitched, yet demanding tone. And just as you had suspected, he did exactly what you commanded. "Too easy..."

Grabbing onto his copper red hair, you pull his head back and expose that delicate throat of his. He gasps out with a masculine moan, yet it was as sweet as fruit nectar. You stick your lips onto the soft spot, and sucked profusely, just until a nice mark was left. "My territory." you exclaimed. You thought he would have bit back, yet you were somewhat surprised when he breathed out heavily and bid you to, "do more."

That was all he needed to say, and the tomboy sense in you reacted by pushing him down on your bedspread. You crawl atop of his broad frame, and perched yourself nicely on his groin. He whimpers out in feeling your pelvis grind against his sensitive member. "Aww...what a sweet face." you remark as you drag your finger down his cheek. You stand back up and with your arms crossed, you tell him to undress you...with his mouth.

You guide him with your words to start from the top, and work his way down. He removes your blouse, by kissing your belly button and grabbing hold of the material with his teeth, dragging it upward as he finishes in removing it. Your bra came off immediately after; your jeans were already removed before he entered your room, leaving only your panties remaining. Aiming to remove the last piece of cloth on your body, you tell him to...

"Get on all fours and take it off with your tongue."

He looks up rather bewildered and shocked, his eyes wide with a sense of wonderment. Nodding, he feeds his tongue in between where the cloth meets the plush lips that cradles your opening. God, it felt so good to feel that slick muscle squirming through, finding leverage to pull the material down.

Once he managed to find a way, he drags your underwear down your legs, the flat surface of his tongue grazes against the skin of your inner thighs and calves. Fully removed with you bare, you push him back down made haste as you crawled back on top, only this time, you didn't settle for his groin.

"Clean me real good."

Sitting on his face, his nose rubs the bud of your clitoris while his tongue shoves its way into your opening. He loops his hands up and over your thighs, grabbing hold of your derriere. You could tell by the way he slapped his palms on the cheeks, he was starving for you. You grab the front pieces of his hair and buried his face in deeper as you grind away, riding his tongue with a waving motion that made ocean water look stale.

"Oh my God! Keep going! Don't--don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

You incorporate a slight bouncing motion as you felt his tongue thrusting in and out. You reach behind and pin his hands onto your lower back, continuously coasting his mouth, leaving him no chance to rest.

"Oh fuck I'm going to cum!" you whimpered out as you glazed his entire face. He licks it up, starting with soft and tiny licks, resembling a puppy. "Lick it all up for me." you tell him, at that point the slight bit of his dominant side comes out, the side you were familiar with. You watched as he narrows his eyes, watching how the puppy grew into a fox and emitted harsh, long licks from top to bottom.

You adjusted your position and became parallel to his frame. Grabbing hold at the base of his shaft, you whipped his length around, tapping it roughly against your tongue. He winces in a mixture of discomfort and pleasure; the sensitivity was almost unbearable, and though it would have been pleasing for you to handle him gently, there was something about feeling the sting of this sensation that made him crave more.

"Ah!" he hisses, indicating the pain overriding all other sensations. "Wan't me to return the favor, 'cutie'?" your tone was somewhat condescending, yet he didn't care. He needed the release so badly, and you were the only one that could give it to him. Nodding frantically, he begs you to give him what he needed.

"Beg some more." you coarsely tell him.

"Oh fuck! Please....pl-please....please, y/n....I'll do anything, just...just fuck me to pieces already!"

You gave off small, subtle licks on the shaft, placing soft kisses up and down while twirling your tongue around the bulbous tip. "Whose the cutie now?"

"You are...AH!"

It was rather bold of him to be so daring, yet a quick slap of your palm reminded him that you weren't playing anymore games. After all, dare he tell others that he didn't like you? He barely knew you! How dare he cause you to cry? Then all of a sudden became our knight in shining armor and came to your aid. How dare he...call you 'cute'?

"One more time, who is the cutie now?"

"Fuck! ah! me....it's me!"

Another slap to his ballsack did him in, and you felt delighted upon hearing him say it. "Still want me to destroy you?"

In a flickering moment, his eyes narrowed down even more, like tight slits, they were sharp enough to cut steel. "Oh yeah..." in a blink of an eye, his deep tone loses all whine and desperation, his arm loops around as he nearly picks your entire form up in the air and slams you down on the bed, tumbling over you. The tables had turned.

"Should of destroyed me when you had the chance, cutie."

"Stop calling me that!"

You fling your hands up, yet he pins them down in an instant, allowing the masculinity of his boyish nature to come through. "Cutie, cutie, cutie. I'm gonna fuck you...cutie."

Your eyes widen upon feeling him rushing in. He didn't even take the time to ease his way through, instead, you felt the shoving thickness and length tapping in, breaking through your walls as the stretch causes your back to arch.

"Yeah...I bet that feels so good..."

"S-slow....slow...d-down......slow down!" you barely could catch your breath, yet he remained ignorant to your words and kept up with his momentum. "But you're so cute when I fuck around with you."

The moment he was all in, you swallowed your words as the new pace he took on made his previous one seemed much slower and easy. Bringing back his whiny voice, he whimpers out in a begging tone, yet still maintained control. It was all so conflicting the way he spoke with his actions not at all mirroring his tone.

"Oh baby...please...please let me feel good....let me cum."

"W-what....Ssssunoo......what....what are you doing....to me!?" you gasped out, a roaring and thrilling sensation of ecstasy punctures your gut each time he thrusts in. "Oh baby....cute baby....I wanna cum so badly....I wanna cum inside you.....I'll be a good boy."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear his desperate please, yet he continued to fuck you like a raging bull. You couldn't make any sense of it, but it didn't matter. Between hearing his high pitched cries and feeling his cock rupturing your entrance, you could feel the eruption of a bursting orgasm reaching through, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Oh! I'm....oh my God you're going to make me cum!" you gasped out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you furrowed your brows and looked up with both worry and desperation, expressing both fear for pregnancy and hope that he would not stop.

"My girl, let me cum! Please let me cum deep inside, I promise I'll be a good boy, okay? Just please let me put it all in..."

"Ah! Sssssunoo! Baby!" you felt your cavity flooding out as a rush of warm liquid splashes against his thrusting member, squelching against your skin as he continues to move in and out.

"Please baby! I...I can't hold it in much longer!"

"No Sunoo don't!" you pleaded, yet your heart wasn't all in. You wanted him to, you needed him to do it. There was just something so enthralling about having your words flaring the opposite of your heart's content, much like what he had been doing.

"Oh baby I can't help it! I'm going to cum!"

"Oh please! Sunoo don't! You're going to get me pregnant!"

"Baby I can't stop!"

"Sunoo!"

Your thighs vibrate as you feel the warm liquid seep deep inside your wet muscles. Pleading him to stop, yet wanting him to give you his all had brought about the most intense sexual vigor that you never though existed.

"Oh fuck baby.....cutie....my cute girl...I'm cumming....I promise to be good, just please let me cum inside you everyday, okay?"

Kissing your forehead, he rode out his high and kept up with the psychological collision of being verbally submissive, yet physically dominating. Perhaps to others it wouldn't make sense, but for you and him, it was your own love language that you both developed and embraced.

"Fine...." you caught your breath and speak in a soft tone. "I'll let you do it, but you have to promise me you'll be a good boy, and listen to what I say."

"Yes...my cute girl"

"Don't call me cute...Sunoo."

"Then don't call me 'baby.'"

Rolling your eyes, you both chuckle as you nod in agreement.

Your bodies remained plastered as you both felt the strength of fatigue kicking in, knocking you both out. Just before you drifted off, you took one last look at him. "Sunoo baby...my Sunoo..."

Asleep, you lay soundlessly as he opens both his fox eyes, hearing you mumble those words in secret. "My cute girl."

-Fin

Authors Note: @sunoosrightbuttcheek , i hope you dont mind, i added a little bit of a flare to the sub!sunoo and made him into a little bit of a switch sub/dom, just to make it a little more interesting for you 😏

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

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andypantsx3 · 10 months ago

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omg so this is just an existential ramble, pls feel free to skip past but the topic of "niceness" vs "kindness" is heavy on the mind today!! (take a shot every time i say "nice" or "kind" below lol)

i saw this tiktok about the queer eye drama that is going on right now (which i do not know much about bc i've skipped past most of it). it was about jvn and the basic premise was like "people whose brand is niceness are always doomed to fail" and in some respects i think that is true, because people conflate niceness with kindness, and misunderstand both.

to jank definitions from this huffpost article, "niceness" is "about being polite, civilized and demonstrating high levels of social skills and etiquette", whereas "kindness is a deliberate action of friendliness or care that chooses to see others as if they were connected to you in some meaningful way. it is a choice to practice empathy, connection and generosity to meet the needs of another.”

this is just a personal take but i think people see social performances of "niceness" and sort of like, unthinkingly build up an image in their head of someone as kind or good, when the things they do are nice but not actually indicative of true kindness.

(also let's skip past the "brand" wording for now bc i have a million thoughts on public-facing personas vs like, actual branding, and it all boils down to authenticity i think. but that's for another time.)

to me, people often conflate what i think of as the "aesthetic of niceness" with genuine goodness, and while the actions taken are nice in and of themselves and are usually undertaken with no ulterior motive, they do not actually correlate to true underlying kindness. we can pick apart me as an example, as people have said i am nice and i do try my best to be both nice & kind, but i think the following things are not indicative of how i actually try to be kind!

the "aesthetic of niceness" is a social performance taken at no expense to the person doing it. these are things like sending cute messages to mooties to check up on them (again, done because i like that person, not because i have some ulterior motive lol), being nice to people who are nice to me in my inbox (so easily done, who doesn't want to be nice to people who are being nice to them?), reblogging pictures of soup or bread or whatever lol and telling followers i am wishing u garlic bread, etc. because i genuinely am.

but to me, the real test of someone's kindness comes in at moments where it is hard to be nice. where the world is testing you and you have to grit your teeth and scrabble and claw for some semblance of generosity towards a person who is being unkind to you (and also i would like to distinguish this from boundary setting or from reacting to bigotry bc let's be real bigots sometimes do not deserve kindness, please let them have it).

it is easy to be nice when the world is being nice to you, but it is so fucking hard to give people the benefit of the doubt and react to them with empathy and patience when they are being the hugest shits in the world, whether on purpose or by accident. and i don't think any one person is capable of always, always managing their emotions in situations like that, and that is why i think "niceness" as a facet of your public persona is always going to fail at some point.

i am aware of some people who project niceness but have sent hate anons behind the scenes, or project niceness but have plagiarized some people's fics and feel no remorse for it. and people would be shocked to learn that, because they do not know the difference between being nice & being kind; and/or have never had the opportunity to observe these people behind the scenes to know truly what underlays that niceness.

anyway all of this to say i think that it's nice to be nice and we should continue to do it. but we should understand that niceness is not necessarily indicative of kindness, and that in order to really understand how "kind" a person is, you need to evaluate their actions when shit hits the fan. (but also with generosity of spirit, hopefully, knowing that one failure to be kind in a moment of high stress does not mean they not will be kind in others, etc.)

uhhhh that's all. that was just on the brain this morning. thanks for listening lol.

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mickeytheticklee · 6 months ago

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MICKEYY YOUR TICKLE FICS ARE SO ADDICTIVE OMG. AND SINCE BOTH OF US ARE IN A RENEÉ RAPP ERA RN?! I BEG IF UR GONNA BE ACTIVE WRITE FOR LER!REGINA AND LEE!Y/N (THAT FIC MADE ME BLUSH SO MUCH😭😭)

I have been summoned for more fics (not rlly I'm bored)

You're like in love with me

Pairing: Ler!Regina George x Lee!Reader

Summary: Regina is randomly in a lee mood while being on her period

Warning: Tickles, mouth tickles, Regina being soft and clingy, my bad writing I should add

An: Anyone who's reading this deserves to be tickled by a mean girl who's secretly a soft lee

You play well to the act of people thinking you're the one obsessed with Regina. Behind closed doors it's another story.

It was a late Friday night. You two were bundled up in her thick sheets, watching cartoons during the night hour. Regina wasn't really into cartoons, she rather watch and disect any Real Housewives series, seeing which Housewife she can relate to. She said yes only for you, only because she had a habit of never saying no to you. She can say no to anyone if they were caught using her stuff, even Gretchen. Yet you ask and all she does is roll her eyes and say fine.

Regina was going to have a night out with her friends, partying and seeing which high school football player she might snatch next. But unexpectedly she started her period, so those plans were immediately thrown out the window. Regina isolates herself on her period, she rather eat spiders than let everyone see her in baggy sweats and no makeup. You knew she looked beautiful even on her rough days, you made sure to text her that whenever her self esteem was declining. Which explains why she'd invite her tonight, being vulnerable enough to snuggle next to her, caressing her hair after buying her chocolates and fixing up a cup of tea.

Regina was resting your head on your lap, her hand fitting perfectly under your shirt for warmth. Your lee demeanor was off so it didn't tickle. Although you wish it did by how pointy her nails were and how close it was pointing your skin. You ignored any tickle thoughts you had for tonight, knowing it wasn't right with Regina physically being in pain from the period cramps. She got up, immediately you were in your overprotective mode, asking if she needed anything or if her cramps were coming back.

“Babe what's wrong? Do you need your heating pad?", You ask, holding her waist in making sure she sits back down. She whines, which is the first. You thought Regina might be groggy from the tea or from the boring cartoons. Thinking it was her becoming tired she gets closer to your face, giving it tiny pecks until she reaches your neck. She straddles your waist, kissing your neck until you give in to the ticklish sensations. You were holding yourself together with how tense your body became. You let out a few respectable snickers, but those quickly turn into giggles by how her fingers started scribbling around your side.

“Babe let go- hehhehhHAHAHAHAHA!!", Even on her period she was strong, trapping you in her arms with side and back scribbles while still kissing your ticklish neck. You push away, not too much since you were secretly loving her tickles. But you needed her to stop so she can focus on resting.

“I'm serious babe you need to get some rest and try not to move so much."

“But I wanna give you tickles.", Regina says, her voice softening. It wasn't rare to see Regina in her clingy side. When she's on her period it's like a different persona overtakes her mean girl complex. Of course she's needy with you now but during these times she wants extra attention and extra love. Both you didn't mind, despite her barely being affectionate the height difference makes the hugs ten times bettee. But you've never seen her this clingy to where she's begging to tickle you.

“You can tickle me once you feel better.", You say but Regina is not listening. She sits her head on your tummy, drawing circles and pouting that she couldn't tickle you. She felt every twitch on your stomach towards every circle and star drawing she was making. You were holding back your laughter hard, inches close to just freely laughing and her taking the lead of all the tickles. But again, this night was about Regina, not you.

Yet her hand makes it away under your shirt, being sneaky and having her finger in your bellybutton. This time you did laugh, kicking your feet a bit and not making any sudden movement to your upper body. Regina may have been facing the TV but you can feel her smirking at you.

“Your belly is so warm, like a heating pad.", Regina says, continue to rest her head on it, the little hairs that sticks out tickling your stomach. Her hair was in a messy bun, probably even messier as she's been laying down the past few hours.

“Babe, why do you wanna tickle me so bad?", You say, trying to stop Regina's hands from creeping up on your sides again.

“Can't I reward my girl for taking such good care of me?", She looks at you with the up most smile. A natural adorable smile, not the fake smile she uses whenever she's with the plastics.

“You can't wait until tomorrow where you'll feel better?", You say, pouting back.

She sits back up, getting centimeters close to your face. You can feel the pink rush thru your cheeks over the intense moment. She was hating that I was denying her tickling me and had to use her flirting skills to the test. “You know what I'm craving right now? A delicious tummy with a side of ribs and raspberries. May even want your toes too. Now, care to be a good darling and lift up your shirt for me?", Regina's voice so hypnotizing you do exactly what she says. You slowly lift up your shirt, giving her access to a range of spots that she immediately puts her lips on.

“Be careful with the RIBS HAHAHAHAHAH!!", You laugh, but not too loudly, it's mostly squeaky laughter over the mixture of soft tickling and evil teases. She was nibbling at your ribs, not too hard, Regina isn't the type to be extremely hard to your spots. You were laughing, not necessary caring about the volume of the TV. You weren't squirming that excessively, you were afraid it bothered Regina by how uncontrollable your body was when being tickled. She then squeezed your tummy like a stress ball, making you scream with laughter and your legs kicking up in the air in a cartoonish way.

“HAHAGAGAHAHHAHHA!!"

You stopped to look at her, feeling bad for the extra kicking that shook the bed. “Sorry.", You apologize but Regina lays on her side, admiring your ticklish self.

“Its okay baby you don't have to apologize, it's cute what my tickling can do to you.", Regina says, stroking your hand. She brings her closer, still tickling your tummy while trying to figure out the plot for whatever cartoon you two are watching. You both weren't focusing, Regina was busy from watching you turn into putty from all the tummy tickles. You were too ticklish to focus on how the show might end.

“I think- I think heheghhehehe...", You keep trying to form a thought but the tickles keep fogging your mind. You were speaking in giggles as Regina nods, thinking she understands what you're saying. Acting like she wasn't scribbling all over your tummy and poking your ribs.

“Yea? So what happened next?", Regina asks, interested in what you were giggling out. When it was over and you finally had a thought about the show she surely again was tickling your tummy, squishing it like a stress ball almost. Like those ASMR slime videos. Your legs kicked back up in the air with screeches filling up the bedroom walls. Once the squishy tickles were finished your legs return back down, but once back up again as she continues them to tease you.

“This is so satisfying, I can feel my cramps going away.", You however might gain cramps for the amount of laughing done. She stops again, calming you down with pecks and tummy rubs. You kiss her, thanking her for the unpredictable tickles that came of tonight. You bring her back to the covers, bringing her back to your chest so she can sleep, even if you were the exhausted one from the tickling.

“Gosh, you're like in love with me aren't you?"

“Shut up."

#this fic is rushed and probably doesn't make sense #i just had this scenario stuck in my head for dayyysss #i need everyone to send their tickle crushes i need to figure something out #my tickle crushes have changed these past few months #mean girls #mean girls tickle #tickle fic #regina george #i finished this so quickly I'm sorry I'M SORRY

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