#but if we keep shimmying

[sanyu-choi]

I have never transcribed a video before, but this one feels too important not to.

Transcript:

"Hi, I have a degree in political science with a concentration in politics of different regions of the world, but I don't need these credentials to be able to explain to you why saying "both parties are bad" in this election in particular is wild.

Full disclosure, I was like a C student, I spent most of my time doing Theatre Club at the Air Force Academy - as you can see, I followed my bliss.

And listen, to preface, I've already told you about my experience in the military (for context, she has separate videos about her time in the military under Trump), I told you about how the climate in the military changed once the Tangerine was elected - such as the trans ban, such as getting rid of diversity and inclusion, such as the number of members from certain types of groups joining the military increasing, and that y'all should care about how it impacted the military - whether you like the military or not - as it is a group of American citizens that the president has direct control over. It is a preview of what he would do if he had direct control over the civilian population.

And for accounting my experiences and giving all of these facts as to why it would be dangerous to let this guy back into the White House again, some of the DMs I received were spicy.

Some person in particular called me a house slave.

They were not black.

I'll leave you to that.

And, uh, that person was not right wing either.

Very interesting to see what people have become comfortable with saying to us lately, and I'm a little heated, my hand is shaking cause I just read a little piece of Project 2025. So let's get into it.

Also, if you have anything to say about me being a black veteran, a former military member- I got something for that ass and I will embarrass you. Don't do it to yourself.

Okay, "Both parties are bad! Both parties are bad!" So I'm a political scientist, I understand. I realize that both main parties pander to marginalized groups, usually as a tool to get elected and nothing more. I know that candidates from both prominent parties very often make promises during their campaign that they don't end up keeping in their term. In the past elections people have used this as an excuse to stay home and not fucking vote.

Here I would like to introduce a term that I learned in dialectical behavioral therapy called Radical Acceptance. Radical Acceptance means observing the facts, examining your feelings about it, and realizing that you have to make choices based on how things actually are, not how you wish it were right now. It doesn't mean lying down and giving up on a different or better solution - it means you're gonna have to do the best that you can do right now.

In a given election you are never going to get to choose between Superman and Lex Luthor. The nature of politics is grimy. Even if a viable third party just rose out of the ground at some point, it will also never be delivering you your picture-perfect-morally-pure candidate.

I've been seeing a lot of content over the last few months about how a lot of far left rhetoric mirrors evangelical Christianity. I feel like this is kind of an example. Your Messiah is not coming. Sometimes you're going to have to choose between Lex Luthor and the Joker. If those are the only two viable options, guess who I'm voting for. Lex Luthor may be corrupt, but the Joker blows up hospitals.

Also hot take - given that the nature of politics is grimy and dirty; given that the United States of America has accumulated a lot of sins over the course of its existence; given that the nature of geopolitics is complicated and we are living in a world that is basically held together by the promise of mutually assured destruction to its several nuclear powerhouses, each having the ability to clap this planet's cheeks with a push of a button - it's not exactly an environment where one country can just go and unfriend another country on Facebook and just block and mute on TikTok - given all of that, Kamala is actually a decent candidate. You don't have to like that, you don't have to like her, but that resume is pretty strong for this job application - including the part where she is the sitting vice president.

By the way, this is not candidate worship, by the way. We really need to do something about the collective brain rot that has made people somehow unable to understand the concept of nuance- a word that makes me lose 10 brain cells every time I have to say it on this app, cause people love to engage in bad faith. Perhaps y'all have just become accustomed to seeing how the members of the Tangerine Club act; now you think that it's that or nothing at all.

You are allowed to be excited about a candidate. You are allowed to support a candidate and also be a little skeptical and also hold them accountable. Oh, you're allowed to have expectations of them and then when they get into office and if they don't meet those expectations, you're allowed to be disappointed. Showing support for a candidate does not mean that you have now joined a Scientology-like cult that you just can't get out of. You're allowed to change your thoughts on things as time goes by as you get new information. That's how people that voted for the Tangerine last time are gonna vote for Kamala this time. You know how that works?

Oh it's comical to me when people come into my comment sections about videos that have, actually, nothing to do with politics and they'll be like, "oh you voted for Biden, you voted for Biden! How's that going now, how's that going now? Do you regret it, do you regret it?"

No.

No. Me voting for Biden did not automatically anoint him as Jesus Christ, just that I had to choose between him - who had been the vice president of the United States before - and the guy that literally threw our country into a trash fire for four years and is a criminal and a predator. Yeah, that was an obvious choice for me.

Even though identity politics have not been part of her campaign, she has laid out her policies pretty clearly, but y'all are gonna say identity politics anyway because a black person- a black woman existing in any other context that a- any other kind of person exist can, just, automatically be seen as political. As a black woman, I'm allowed to be excited about the prospect of the first black woman President of the United States.

When Obama got elected, I was a teenager and I was being raised by a conservative, black, self-hating father who was a preliminary member of the Tangerine club - I was not allowed to be excited about that. It was not safe in my father's house to be excited about that. And his reasoning was actually, comically, the same as a lot of far leftist reasoning, that "it's not enough to just put a black person in there if he's not a good president, then it just doesn't count, it just doesn't count. If it's not perfect, then it's not really progress." Yet it's a standard that no construction paper colored man has ever been held to in pursuing this office. Another mirroring of toxic evangelical Christianity - moral purity.

You can hold space for both skepticism and excitement. You say you stand for progress, but then you turn around and do exactly what the far right does - hold people of color to an impossibly higher standard.

I'm gonna hold space for both skepticism and excitement and I'm going to allow myself to be excited about this - no one's taking that away from me again.

Dad if you can hear me from down there, I hope that just gave you heartburn.

"Oh both parties are bad!" I'm so glad that we still live in a reality where a qualified black woman can be considered as an equal choice to an unqualified Tangerine - but originally construction paper colored - predator, felon, treasonous orange, with no qualifications for the job, but alas he was given the job before anyways - because construction paper colored men - and sucked at it.

And y'all were all there.

The repeal of Roe v Wade, Covid- we were all there, we all saw the same things, did we not? He has literally laid out every terrible thing he wants to do if you allow him to have this job again. And some of y'all are really like 'mwemeh.'

Some of you may be too young to remember when it was actually sane to be able to say "oh both parties are bad" in an election. The impact that this guy has had over politics over the last few years - We are in distress!

This is a code red - Do you understand that? We don't have time for this.

During the Obama and McCain race, obviously those who were left leaning - "oh you want Obama, you want Obama, right?" - But no one was talking about leaving the country if McCain won!

You get what I'm trying to say here?

Pessimism is not only annoying- it is not productive. It is dramatic and unfruitful.

"Voting doesn't work anyway" - voting doesn't work as quickly as you would like it to. It's something that you have to continue to do over time to affect change, you have to have a consistency.

If voting doesn't do anything, well I guess that our ancestors who fought and died for us to have that right just died for nothing, right?

Okay!

Last point - if all of this seems a little too 'kaka!' to you, let me submit to you this: the United States is the biggest military power in the world. It is a lethal weapon, a missile, a bazooka. Whether you decide to get your ass off that couch and participate in November or not - that bazooka is going to be handed to somebody in January. Like it or not, there are only two actual options of people to hold that bazooka. Who do you want holding that bazooka? Hmm?

Keep in mind that one of those people wants it to be an option to be able to turn that bazooka onto us.

I just can't stop thinking about the things that black women have been called over the past few weeks. I can't stop thinking about somebody calling me a house slave. How, pray tell, do you expect to be able to keep on bullying black women into being beasts of burden for every single one of your social justice issues if we have less rights of Protection than we already do now?

Food for thought."

We don’t have time for “both parties are bad” this time - Nicque Marina

You can't build a better country or world, solar punk or otherwise if you don't have the freedom to do so. Citizens of the United States of America are responsible for the impact our policies have on the world. The previous Republican administration dismantled the government organization focused on dealing with pandemics and then COVID spread and killed so many world-wide. That is just one of millions of reasons to vote against the Republicans. It's easier to focus on mutual aid and community gardens when we aren't living with long COVID and burying our family and neighbors. Vote blue 🔵 and buy humanity a little time.

[pineappical]

he loved the book!

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

~ Dancing Noodle Boys ~

Bonus:

[catsnuggler]

.

[emmyrosee]

and then when tattoo artist sukuna and reader start dating🤔🙏PLEASEEEE

By the time you start dating, you’ve got more than enough piercings done by him, a few pieces of ink that decorate your skin, and when you come in for an appointment, he can barely keep his hands off of you, kissing your neck and jawline and running his hands up and down your back before and after because who is going to question the big, bad, Sukuna about PDA? No one. That’s who.

He’s all for the PDA, all for flaunting you around, and who are you to complain? But even without you there, he’s got evidence of your presence covering his body- he’s got your name on his collarbone, a wavelength tattoo of you saying “I love you” along the other ink of his neck, and a kiss mark on the inner part of his wrist. He wants to do the bite mark on his chest, next to the other dark ink littering his skin, but you tell him to wait until you catch up.

More often than not, your appointments lap over others because you’re just in his room talking, he loves to hear you talk about anything and everything, he’s enamored and obsessed with you that when he’s got you plopped onto his lap while he sketches with his chin hooked over your shoulder, those are his little slices of heaven- until someone interrupts it with a knock about his next appointment.

“I’m fucking busy!” He snarls.

“No, baby, they’re right,” you mewl, scooting out of his lap and trying not to find amusement in the way he groans in agony at the loss of you. “You’re working. I shouldn’t be here-“

“You’re supposed to be here,” he grumbles. “We made an appointment for us to chill, this is your appointment!” He’s pouting. Actual, literal pouting, and you coo and cup his cheeks to plant a kiss on his lips.

“You coming by after work?”

“Fuck kind of question is that, of course I am,” he scoffs.

“Good.” You watch him carefully as you reach into your bag, and his eyes bulge in annoyance.

“Do not.”

“Do not what?”

“If you try to leave me a tip, hand to god-“

You say nothing, but you throw a wad of cash folded neatly onto the chair in his office, giggling as you dash out of the room and shimmy through the waiting area. “You’re going to pay for that, shithead!”

“Love you, baby!”

[ddejavvu]

I just saw an ad Instagram for a thong that said ‘all you can eat buffet’ on it and I am BEGGING you to write James reacting to r wearing it 😭

this post is 18+, minors dni.

It's a gag, nothing more. The block letters are ugly, big white shapes that are already cracking on the surface of the red fabric. But their message is worth it: ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFET'.

An ad for the thong had jumped out at you during your nightly social media scroll only a few weeks ago, and you'd ordered it while James was snoring beside you. He appreciates a good joke, but he's also been known to appreciate a good meal, and you wonder if the manufacturer had made them personally for you and James.

You wear them beneath the little sleep shorts that drive James crazy, the ones that are so loose he can always catch a glimpse of your underwear beneath them. You're just tucking yourself beneath the blankets, keeping your thigh purposefully visible, when James stumbles into the room with a hand buried deep in his curls, scratching away at them.

He's mid-yawn, and you're slightly taken aback when he refrains from making a comment about your attire. He's usually all over you, and you have no doubt that he'll be nearly on top of you when you're both beneath the covers, but you can't believe he managed to keep a crass comment out of his mouth.

"Sirius wants to try out a new bike repair shop tomorrow," James mumbles, clearly tired as he shucks off his joggers and heads for bed with only his shirt and briefs remaining, "'Says the place opens bloody early- six I think? Closes at nine. So I've gotta haul my ass up before then."

"Oh." You retort, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice as you settle, "Sorry, Jamie. We can sleep early tonight."

He hums encouragingly into the sheets as he gets situated, reaching immediately for you just as you'd known he would. His large hands gravitate towards your waist, and even if he's too tired and responsible to think about sex tonight, his hand snakes into the waistband of your shorts for safekeeping.

He feels the blocky, stiff cool of the lettering on the front of your thong and you feel his brows furrow where his head is pressed into your shoulder. He peeks over it now, stretching the waistband of your shorts open and keeping the blankets lifted so that he can see what you're wearing in the dim lights you have yet to turn off.

"What-" He squints, trying to read upside-down without his glasses, but it's a hopeless case. You're already halfway towards a fit of giggles, and you shimmy out of your shorts to stand proudly on your knees close enough for him to see.

"All you can eat buffet," He reads, murmuring the words while his face lights up and a hearty laugh escapes his throat, "Darling! That's cheeky, where did you get that?"

"I found it online." You giggle, and he braces a hand on your thigh to admire it. He studies you for a moment, still chuckling, and then he moves to sit up, staring at you expectantly.

"Well lay down, darling." He invites you, "Let's see this buffet."

"No, James, it's alright!" You insist, "You have to be up early for Sirius. It can wait, I'll wear them some other time for you."

"No," He whines, sounding petulant, "Your terrible jokes and impulsive financial habits have charmed me. On your back, darling."

"James, you don't-" You shake your head but he takes your face in his hands, pressing his head closer to yours so that you're pushed back and subsequently laid down, "-you don't have to do this, we can-"

"God, you make eating pussy sound like a chore." He mumbles between kisses, kissing next at your chin, then the pudge beneath it as you lay on the bed, "Relax, darling. All-you-can-eats are my favorite, and I've just realized I'm hungry."

[rafesangelita]

farmer’s!daughter!reader surprising rafe with her cheerleading costume!

warnings: cowboy!rafe, sexual innuendos, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl, use of the name ‘daddy’ (just once), pet names, slight praise, cream pie

a/n: you can find the halloween costumes for all my !reader’s here <3 thank you for your req!

“okay! you promise you won’t laugh?” rafe sat up against the headboard of your bed, waiting in anticipation as you hid from him behind the bathroom door. “i promise, ‘darlin, just come out.” he watched as you stepped into his view, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. there you were, the prettiest girl he has ever known in a cheer costume get-up. “..well?” you smiled, shimmying the pom poms at him as an amused expression took over rafe’s features.

“woww,” he nodded approvingly, “do a spin for me, doll face.” you giggled, bending over slightly for him to get a full view of your ass peeking out of your shorts. he clenched his fists at the sight. you were just too dang perfect. his eyes ran down your form, a deep breath leaving his lips when you stepped closer to him. “does this cowgirl like reverse?” he raised a brow at you. leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his lips before whispering; ‘mmhm, she loves it..’

shortly after you said that, rafe had you bouncing on his cock, his large hands squeezing the flesh of your hips where he fucked into you with vigor. “fuck, baby,” his forehead rested on your back as you moved on top of him, “riding your favorite cowboy, hm?” you cried out, nodding even though he couldn’t see your face. “mm, f-fuck— yes, ray!” he grunted, fingers snaking down to stroke your sensitive clit. your nails dug into his thighs, your pom poms long forgotten on the floor.

you looked so sexy, your needy pussy swallowing him whole with every deep stroke. “goddamn, you’re taking it like a fuckin’ champ.” he landed a hard smack to your ass, shushing you when you cried out at the stinging sensation. “nghh— you feel so good, sweetheart, holy—” you sat back on your hands, grinding on him slowly while resting your head against his chest. “wanna make you cum so bad, daddy.” you whimpered, letting him litter your neck with wet kisses.

rafe couldn’t think straight. with the way your cunt had a death grip on his cock, he found it nearly impossible to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. balling one of your pigtails around his fist, he yanked you down, using you as leverage to thrust into you at an unforgiving pace. your tits bounced with every snap of his hips, your hand holding onto the nape of his neck for balance. rafe felt your walls flutter around his length, a telltale sign that you were going to cum soon.

“s’my little slut gonna cum?” he rasped in your ear, the pads of his fingers rubbing mercilessly on your swollen bud. you hiccuped, a gasp leaving your lips when he licked a stripe up the column of your throat before kissing you sloppily. rafe groaned inside your mouth, the build up of his peak beginning to take effect. “please! want you to fill me up..” you whined, his large arm wrapping around your torso to keep you close. soon enough, you were shaking in his embrace, your thighs threatening to shut around his hand.

“doing so good, baby, m’gonna fill you to the brim.” he bear hugged you against his chest to keep you still, spilling inside of you as you squeezed around his length. he was panting against your skin, trailing kisses up your shoulder. “m’tired now.” you mumbled, letting rafe take what was left of your costume off. “i know we don’t celebrate halloween, but damn we need to do that more often.” he laughed tirelessly, stroking your cheek.

[inkdrinkerworld]

soft dom! remus calls reader a good girl just in like a very casual everyday public scenario and she’s like 😳 and he goes “u ok” and she’s like “no not rly can we go have sex now” 💀

Smut: 18+ only p in v penetration, oral (fem receiving) fingering, I’m a little rusty but I like the way this came out!

“Good girl,” Remus murmurs as you show him your graded paper and you frown. “M’proud of you.”

You’re in the living room, James and Sirius on the love seat as you sit with Remus on his recliner.

“Remus.” You grumble, body hot as his hands slip around you and adjust you in his lap.

“Yes, my love?” You rest your chin on his chest and look up at him through your lashes.

“You can’t just say that.” You whisper, Sirius and James paying you both no mind- they’re used to all this by now.

Remus laughs, lips pressed to your cheek when he calms down. “I’m sorry baby,”

You shake your head, “Can we go to the room?” Remus smirks as you wiggle a bit in his lap.

He spares a glance to Sirius and James, both of them looking comfortable and about ten minutes from sleep. Then he looks back at you, with your pupils blown wide and your near breathlessness.

“You’re incorrigible.” He murmurs, standing his his hands under your thighs- your paper long forgotten in the space you’d occupied.

“You’re dogs!” Sirius calls as you and Remus disappear, a blush taking over your face as Remus kicks your bedroom door shut.

As he lays you down, you can’t help but fidget. Remus looks down at you, his hands trailing your thighs.

“Don’t tease Remmy.” You whine chips bucking into his hands making him smirk.

“I’m not,” he shimmies your skirt and underwear to your ankles, swearing when he finds you soaked already. “Dove, this is a little embarrassing.”

You whine, sitting up on your elbows to watch as he lowers himself to his knees. Remus’ eyes go hungry the minute you part your legs, a swear leaving his lips softly before his fingers slide up your slick.

“Remus please.” You’re breathless already and it makes something more than pride and ego swell in his chest.

Remus doesn’t speed up his actions, he only takes his time in sinking a finger into you. Your hips buck a bit and he has to bite back a laugh as his other hand slings along your torso to keep you still.

“I have to get you ready, dovey. Don’t want you hurting too bad.” God your stomach tightens- you’re not sure how your reserved boyfriend has such a silver tongue but it drives you crazy.

Remus peppers kisses along your inner thigh as he fingers you, adding a second one when you let out a particularly pleased whine.

“Remus I need you.” You cry, hand over your mouth as his fingers push a little deeper, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

“You have me, baby.” He doesn’t move a bit, only doubles down his efforts and when he feels the tremble in your stomach, his lips replace his thumb.

Your fingers thread through his hair instantly, holding him in place as your elbows give out under you and your head is flung back.

“Close,” you breathe, it’s more like a harsh puff of the word but Remus hums and pushes his fingers deeper and you let go.

You bite into the heel of your palm, muffling the whine that bubbles out of you. You don’t let Remus waste any more time, pulling him away from your center and closer to your mouth.

“Easy,” he whispers against your lips, amusement colouring his tone. Remus pushes his sweatpants down, his cock springing free and his other hand guides it to your entrance.

“Please, Remmy. Please.” Your hands anchor themselves to his shoulders as he sinks in, your breath caught in your chest.

“Breathe, dove.” His lips trail a path from your jaw to your collarbones, his hips moving only a little as you adjust.

Remus’ hips snap slowly at first, a motion that has you locking your legs around his waist. “More,” you beg and he finds he can’t deny you anymore.

Your belly burns with need, your face tucked away in his neck. Soft puffs of your breath warming his skin.

“Feel so good,” Remus murmurs, kissing your cheek and pecking just by your chin as he sneaks a hand to your clit.

His movements are measured and deep and as you get closer Remus has to put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“I know baby, I know. Just let go f’me.” He groans, legs quivering a little as he feels the force of your orgasm against him.

You hold onto his wrist as you come, your eyes crossing and back arching off the bed as Remus works you through your high.

He doesn’t take long to finish inside you either, a few sharp thrusts and he’s there, holding your hips still as he rides out his own orgasm.

“Better?” He asks as he pulls out, kissing your chest when you mewl. You nod, reaching for Remus as he reaches into your bedside table for wipes.

“M’right here, dove. It’s gonna be cold okay?” He warns you every time and every time it makes your heart flutter.

After he’s all done cleaning you up, Remus fits you into the sweater he’d been wearing and a clean pair of panties.

“Coming to get something to eat?” He’d leave you in here by yourself if you want to, but he never really wants you alone after.

“Do we have any more of those fruit snacks? The watermelon ones?” You let Remus pick you up, hissing a little as you wrap your legs around him.

“We should, you can also have some of the leftover spring rolls and a soda.”

Sirius looks at you both in faux disgust, James asleep in his lap.

“Dogs!”

[guiltyc0nscience]

⋆˙⟡ surf curse, chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis. in which you convinced chris to do the latest tiktok trend with you.

warnings. i don’t think there’s any

authors note. this is so cute

after ten minutes of convincing chris to make this tiktok with you. which took a lot of pouting and puppy eyes, you finally got him to do the newest tiktok trend with you.

“okay. so what do i do again?” he asks standing in front of you, looking down on you.

“so basically. you just point your arms down, then to the side, up to the sky then down to your chest then you move. i’ll show you other people doing it before we do.” you explain while doing the actions before grabbing your phone and showing chris the tiktok.

chris rewatches the video a few times before nodding, “okay. i got it. i can do that. easy peasy.” he says rubbing his hands together as you prop your phone up on a cup which sits on top of a shelf.

“you ready?” you ask chris, looking over your shoulder. seeing him nod in response you then press the three second timer before standing in position.

you and chris stand face-to-face with a little gap in between you two. as you hear the song begin to start, you look chris in the eyes before letting out a giggle as he sticks his tongue out at you.

you give chris a nod when you move both of your arms down by your side, pointing to the ground. chris mirroring your movements. both of you then move your arms outwards, then upwards before bringing them back down and holding them in that position for a split second before chris shimmy’s his body backwards and you shimmy yours forwards.

as yous shimmy forwards and backwards you both begin to let out loud giggles, barely being able to hear the music before going back to standing up straight.

then you repeat the same arm movements again before shimmying yet again, but this time you went backwards and chris went forward.

as soon as the tiktok finishes chris launches himself forward and engulfing his arms around your small frame before throwing you over his shoulder. the song playing on repeat in the background.

“chris! put me down. now.” you giggle between your words. chris begins to walk forwards towards the sofa before launching you down onto the plushy sofa.

you went down with a ‘mmph’ and a giggle. chris looks down at you with a grin before turning around behind him and walking towards your still playing phone and grabbing it.

he looks up at you, keeping eye contact with you until he is standing right in front of you. he then flops down next to you and leaning his head on your shoulder and moving your phone into both of you so you can both watch the video.

you both watch the video twice, both with shit eating grins on your faces’. the end of the video shows chris running towards you before it cuts off which brings a massive toothy smile onto your face.

“we fucked that up” chris said before pressing the ‘post’ button then switching your phone off and throwing it behind him. he then brings his legs up onto the sofa before flopping his head onto your lap and snuggling into your thighs.

you sit with the same smile on your face, still thinking about the tiktok. you bring your hand down into his fluffy brunette hair and begin to lightly massage his scalp.

“i fucking love when you do that shit” chris hums out and closing his eyes. you lean down just enough to press a kiss to his temple before leaning your head back on the couch and closing your eyes with a grin in your face.

[revasserium]

beloved - Tsukishima and being soft for you and only you

prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed

beloved

tsukishima; 1,787 words; fluff, established relationship, no "y/n", soft!tsukki, kissing and banter, tsukki being... tsukki

summary: 5 times tsukki is soft just for you and 1 time when he doesn't care that everyone else can see

a/n: this is an ancient req but... welp, here we are! u__u

01.

in the middle of the night, his eyes still marred by sleep and the lack of glasses, when the world is a watercolor haze of shapes and softness — he feels you tug away from where you’d been curled up against his chest, shifting under the blankets. he groans and tries to pull you back.

“kei… what’re you doing?”

“don’t go… i was warm.”

there’s a whine in his voice you’re certain he’s never let anyone else hear before, no one other than you and the silent, watchful moon, swinging low in the mid-autumn night.

“i’ll be right back — i need to pee!”

“well pee quick,” he says, voice gravely from sleep as he shoves his face back into his pillows and tries not to mourn the you-shaped emptiness in the bed next to him. he wonders briefly how he’d lived so many years, slept so many nights just by himself in this bed, his body and no one else’s to keep him warm.

he counts backwards from twenty, knowing that by the time he gets to about seven or six, you’ll be crawling back under the blankets, nuzzling into his side. he gets to eight, seven, six —

“there, see?” you shimmy back into his arms and he sighs a sigh that could be misconstrued as exasperated. but you know him well enough (and he knows you do) to know it’s nothing short of absolute contentment.

“mm. sleep,” is his only mumbled reply as he once again buries his face into the soft bend of your neck and breathes.

02.

out shopping, even though he’d made such a fuss about not wanting to go, about how it’s nothing more than a pointless endeavor and only contributing to the economic monster that is capitalism — but the way you press a sundress to your front in front of a full length mirror, the light in your eyes, the bright smile on your lips — it stirs something inside him. it inspires quiet; it inspires… admiration.

you spin around, laughing, clearly delighted to have caught him staring.

“what do you think? does it look good?”

tsukishima purses his lips, schooling his expression back into a frown as he scoffs and casts his eyes up towards the ceiling.

“’s all the same to me.”

“aw… c’mon, you don’t mean that,” you say, twisting back around to tug at the dress, contemplating if it’s worth trying on.

“sure it is. i mean — i’d like you in whatever, so.”

and silently, he thinks that the way you blush at his words is worth the trip… and all the bags he has to carry along the way.

03.

over strawberry shortcake, with two steaming caramel lattes — you humming happily to yourself as you snap one picture after another of the delicious-looking assortment.

“camera eats first!” you declare, snapping your phone shut and reaching out to pick up a fork. you pause over the petal-pink of the shortcake, decorated with three glistening strawberries, the soft white cream light as clouds.

you bite your lips, “ah… it looks almost too good to eat!”

at this, tsukishima sighs, reaching out to stab straight through a strawberry, despite your squeak of indignation and alarm. he wordlessly presses the strawberry to your lips, smirking to himself as he watches the buttercream smear across your mouth before you have the sense to open it and take a bite.

“mm! it’s good!”

“hn. i’d hope so — it was 2,000 yen.”

tsukishima scopes another bite for himself before pausing, his eyes caught on the languid sweep of your tongue across your lips as you try to catch the remaining cream. and, thoughtlessly, almost as if driven by nothing more than instinct and that strange, animal magnetism, he leans forward to swipe a thumb across your lips, pressing the excess into your mouth.

slowly, you close your mouth around his thumb, and he feels the slight pressure of your tongue against his skin. he swallows; you suck, letting his thumb go with a slip pop that leaves tension swelling in his chest like an overfilled balloon.

later, caught just outside the cafe, with his fingers curling into your hair, tilting your head up to meet his — tsukishima thinks that there are some things, perhaps like the strawberry shortcake, too lovely to devour. and then — there are some things, perhaps like your lips, entirely too lovely not to.

04.

after practice, when the moon hangs heavy in the mid-summer sky and the cicadas are singing loud enough to shake loose the stars — tsukishima leans back against your legs, his head falling into your lap as you reach down to slip off his glasses.

“so… how was the training camp?” you ask, tracing your index finger along the high bridge of his nose.

“tiring. the little orange dolt thought it’d be a good idea to break in —”

“break… in?”

“yeah, he just showed up and — i dunno — prayed that no one would notice that he wasn’t invited. idiot.”

your laughter is summer-sweet and full-bellied, and it has you tipping back on your couch with your fingers still tangled in tsukishima’s slightly shower-damp hair.

“it’s — it’s not funny!” tsukishima twists around, frowning hard enough for you to burst into another fit of giggles, reaching forward to run your thumbs along the ridges between his furrowed eyebrows.

“i mean… i think it’s pretty hilarious. that takes balls, doesn’t it?”

tsukishima huffs, swiveling back around, shoulders hunched as he grabs for the remote and clicks on the tv, switching through channels at light-speed. his glasses lay forgotten on the sofa next to you.

“or he’s just too stupid to think about the consequences.”

you reach forward with an indulgent smile, looping your arms around his wide shoulders.

“oh, c’mon… cut him some slack. not everyone can be as tall, handsome, and talented as you are, right?” you say, nuzzling into his cheek even as he swats half-heartedly at you.

“quit it.”

you giggle, hugging him all the tighter until he spins around, pinning your wrists above your head with a speed not usually associated with someone of his height. he hovers over you, his head cocked to one side.

“oh yeah? and what’re you gonna do for your tall, handsome, talented boyfriend to make him feel better after such a stressful day at camp, hm?”

you hiccup, lashes fluttering as he bears down over you.

“i — ts-tsukki —!”

“hn. wrong answer — two more chances.”

you press your lips and glare at him with what you hope is a reproachful air. tsukishima only smirks, shaking his head even as he bends down to press into your space, your chests pressed, his body covering yours and then some. his lips brush the lobe of your ear and he revels in the way you shiver.

“fine line between stupidity and courage, i’d say… don’t you agree?”

05.

before the game with shiratorizawa, with his brand new glasses, and his head bowed low.

“don’t be scared,” you say, reaching down to link his fingers with yours. they’re so long, so strong. the palms peppered with calluses.

tsukishima scoffs, “i’m not scared.”

you smile, rocking up onto your very tip toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. luckily, tucked behind a large column, around the corner to a deserted corridor, no one is there to see.

“you’re not a very good liar,” you say, falling back onto your heels, peering up at him as he stares down at you with slightly narrowed eyes. then, he bends forward to trap you against the column, his breath hot along your lips.

“and you’re gonna make me late for warmups.”

he pulls back at the last second, leaving you breathless. but the smile that dangles from his lips is less sanctimonious than usual. he reaches up and flicks at your forehead when you make no move to follow him.

“i’m not scared, i’m nervous. but… i guess seeing you in the stands would make that a bit better.”

you bite down on your bottom lip, linking your hands behind your back.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

06.

after the shiratorizawa match, when everyone is still running high on adrenaline, puffy-eyed with happiness, you bound down to meet him, skidding to a halt just outside the giant gymnasium doors. there are bandages on his fingers and sweat dripping down the tip of his nose.

his cheeks are pink with exhaustion, but his eyes are clear and bright and wanting.

“guess you didn’t have any reason to be nervous after all,” you say, trotting up to meet him as the rest of the team parts around the pair of you like water around a river rock. yamaguchi glances over his shoulder even as he herds hinata and kageyama away, the pair bickering over this or that.

tsukishima crinkles his nose, but his eyes narrow at the sight of the redness beneath your eyes. he reaches up his uninjured hand to trace along the dried tear-tracks along your cheeks.

“what’re you crying for?”

you sniffle, shooting him a glare.

“just because you weren’t scared doesn’t mean i wasn’t either — but you won — so that’s all that —”

he quiets you down with a kiss, standing there, in the open gymnasium hallways, the chattering of hundreds of students ebbing around you both. distantly, you can swear you hear tanaka whoop, only to be cut short by what sounds like sugawara smacking him painfully upside the head.

tsukishima frowns as he pulls back, “y’know… i’d prefer if your mind wasn’t on other things when i kissed you.”

“wh-what — i wasn’t —”

his lips thin into his trademark smirk as he tugs your chin towards him with two fingers, his hold more gentle than it looks.

“hm… seems like you’re not a very good liar either but… guess i don’t really mind that much.”

your retort dies on your lips as he leans down again, and this time, you don’t think about how the pair of you are still standing in the middle of a very visible hallway, how people are probably starting to stop and stare.

this time, you kiss him back like nothing else matters in the world except for his lips and how perfectly soft they are on yours.

[luveline]

I know you’re asking for Spencer fics… While I adore single dad!Spencer… How about some single mom!reader and Spencer? 💕

You and your daughter work your way into Spencer’s life one chess game at a time. fem, 1.3k

It all starts with, “Hello.” 

Spencer looks up, and he finds any word he could’ve said dead on his tongue. You smile at him oddly gentle, and he assumes he’s got something on his face your afraid to point out.

“Hi,” you say, unperturbed by his lack of response. You keep your head ducked but seem friendly enough as you lick your lips. “I don’t know if you’re busy, but I was wondering if you’d play chess with my daughter. You don’t have to say yes, but she’s really polite and she won’t cheat, and she really wants to say hi.” 

Spencer looks behind you, where your daughter stands a ways away pretending not to watch. She could only be three of your years old —if she can play chess, she’s a prodigy. She has on stripy tights and a dress, a vinyl coat open over the top, her hands wringing together. 

“Okay,” Spencer says. 

Your smile is even nicer, then. Relief and thankfulness aimed fully at him. “Thank you.” 

You meander back to your daughter and bend down to whisper instructions too quiet for Spencer to hear. Shy, your daughter shimmies forward, then walks proper steps when you encourage her with your hand behind her shoulder. “It’s okay,” you whisper, “let’s say hi.” 

The chess boards are built into the tables at the park. Spencer sits on one stone stool, and your daughter makes herself comfortable on the opposite one. You kneel beside her without worry, knees on the dirty floor. 

“Hi,” your daughter says. She has a high voice, reedy, like she needs a drink. 

You rub her arm. 

“Hello,” Spencer says. “Have you played before?” 

“Me and mom play.” 

“So you know the rules?” 

“Some,” she says. 

Spencer’s only human. He does think about the horror of being trapped opposite of a toddler for the next half an hour bumbling through the steps, but it’s not as though he has other things to do, and, really, he loves people. He’s scared of talking, that’s all. 

“We play a lot on my phone, where it tells her what moves she can and can’t do,” you say. “But it’s okay. I have practice, I can be the phone.” 

Your daughter laughs like this is the funniest thing on the planet. “You don’t look like a phone,” she says. 

“That’s nice of you, but that’s ‘cos you’ve never seen my wires.” 

She laughs again. 

“I know all the rules, too, don’t worry,” Spencer says. “Are those your pieces? Or we can play with mine?” 

“Sofie has her pieces, it’s okay, we don’t wanna lose yours.” 

You let your backpack slip down your back and unveil a chess board box with sellotaped corners. The sleeve inside is unhurt, and you put it in the middle of the table. Spencer takes initiative and grabs the purple ones. You and Sofie arrange the pink ones in a mirror. 

Sofie is surprisingly good at chess, considering her age. Sometimes Spencer ends up playing against you, your advice murmured in her ear, and every time you smile at him he feels a little nauseous.  

He lets her win, of course. The first few times, at least. Over weeks, you and Sofia occasionally see him in the park playing chess, some days in the middle of a game with someone else, other times alone. Sofie comes up to him increasingly confident to ask for the next game, and Spencer realises he’s somehow made two friends. 

“Spencer!” Sofie shouts, tumbling over the grass bank to stop on the end of the retaining wall bordering the chess tables. You’re just behind her, looking tired. 

“Sofie, hi!” 

Sofie jumps down off of the wall before either of you can stop her. “Spencer, where have you been?” She rockets toward him. He stands, worried she’ll fall flat on her face, but she continues to race toward him until she’s throwing her arms around his legs. “I missed you.” 

“Well, I missed you too,” he says, surprised. He gives her back a tentative pat. “I’ve been learning new techniques.” 

“But where did you go?” she asks. 

“I went to Alaska. It was super cold.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you greet, flushed as you plop down on the stone seat opposite him. 

Believe it or not (easily believable), Spencer didn’t ask you your name the first time you met. Or the second. On the third occasion you met, you actually apologised with too much sincerity and said, “I’m so sorry, I never asked what your name was. I can’t believe it. I’m Y/N.” 

So now you’re introduced, and Spencer has a raging crush on you. 

Spencer grins as Sofie sits on his seat, shuffling over so they can sit together. “What, you’re on my team today?” he asks her excitedly. 

“Yes!” She pats the chess board. “Mom, my pieces.” 

“It’s okay, we can use mine.” Spencer’s are already out on the table. He’d been hoping to see you both. 

“I won’t lose them,” Sofie promises. 

“I might. Where have you been, Spencer? Sof made us come here four times last week, we had to play chess with Melinda.” 

“I was working,” he says. “We’re always going somewhere far away, I didn’t realise we’d be there for so long.” 

“‘Cos he’s a special agent,” you whisper to Sofie. 

She puts a finger over her lips, “Mom, don’t so loud!” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” You nudge a King back onto his square. “Did I blow your cover?” you ask, your voice a rolling murmur.

Spencer holds Sofie’s back reactively as she wiggles on the seat. He has an answer. He should play along —he’s been reading up on how to flirt like he’s not a lonely weirdo and that’s with confidence and running jokes, but the way you’re looking at him stops him in his tracks. 

No one ever mentions the panic of a shared smile. 

“What happens if people find out?” Sofie asks worriedly. 

“Nothing happens, Sofie, I’m the boring kind of special agent where nothing I do is a secret.” He winces at her crestfallen expression. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can have a secret mission together? Me, you, and mom?” 

“Really?” you ask, surprised. 

Spencer nods enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, of course.” 

“Like… dinner?” 

Spencer bites the tip of his tongue, to an immediate sting. It’s not the first time in his life a conversation he’s in has occurred without him: you’re shared smile was you flirting first. His reciprocation, while not intended, has served as flirtation. 

He didn’t mean to do it, but he doesn’t care, he won’t mess it up, “If you want to?” He clears his throat, his voice returning to a more acceptable tenor. “We could go for dinner… tonight.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Not tonight. Not… unless you want to?” 

“We didn’t have dinner yet,” Sofie says helpfully. 

Your gaze falls to the chess board. “I don’t think I’m dressed for dinner. I had such a long shift.” You’re shrugging, minimising yourself. 

Spencer moves his and Sofie’s first pawn. “You always look beautiful.” 

He cannot look at you after he says it, but he doesn’t need to. 

“Mom, you're doing that smile like when Mr. Mailman brings our letters.” 

“Thank, Sofie,” you say. 

Spencer sneaks a glance at your smile. It’s decidedly shy, and if he were to touch your cheek, he guesses he’d find your skin warming. “What does he do when he brings the letters?” Spencer asks. 

You pin him with wide eyes. 

“He says she’s pretty with a big ‘p’,” Sofie whispers. 

“She is pretty,” Spencer whispers back. 

You move a chess piece with a breathless laugh. “Okay, then let’s get dinner after I wipe the floor with you both.” 

Spencer decides now is the appropriate time to reveal that he is very good at chess. He and Sofie win in ten moves. 

[pucksandpower]

Favoritest People

Charles Leclerc x Reader x platonic!Max Verstappen

Summary: drunk you tends to get quite a bit emotional and clingy … even with your boyfriend’s rival-turned-friend

The bass thumps through your body as you sway on the dance floor, cocktail in hand. Monaco’s most exclusive club is packed tonight with beautiful people laughing, drinking, and dancing. The flashing lights cast colorful shadows across gleaming skin and expensive clothes.

You grin dopily at Charles, reaching out to straighten his shirt collar. “You look so handsome tonight, babe.”

He chuckles, taking your hand and spinning you into his arms. “And you look gorgeous, as always.” His voice is low in your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

Giggling, you loop your arms around his neck as you sway together to the rhythm. “I’m having such a good time. This is so much fun!”

“Good, I’m glad.” Charles presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumb stroking along your jaw. “But maybe take it easy on the drinks, yeah? Don’t want you getting too sloppy.”

You roll your eyes dramatically. “I’m finnnne. Don’t be such a worrywart!” Sticking out your tongue, you spin away from him and do a clumsy shimmy, nearly sloshing your drink all over the both of you.

Charles just shakes his head fondly, steadying you with a hand on your waist. You catch Max’s eye from across the dance floor and wave enthusiastically. He lifts his glass to you with a lopsided grin.

Abandoning Charles for the moment, you weave through the crowd toward Max, stumbling a bit in your high heels. By the time you reach him, you’re slightly out of breath but beaming. “Maxieeee!”

He raises an eyebrow at your drunken exuberance. “Having a good night, I see.”

“The best!” You throw your arms around him for a tight hug, getting some of your drink on his expensive shirt in the process. “I just love you so much, you know that?”

Max laughs, patting your back. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

Pulling back, you grab his face between your palms so he has to look you in the eyes. “No, like, I really really love you. You’re the sweetest guy ever and those stupid fans who boo you are so messed up. If I ever hear anyone booing you again, I’m gonna fight them! With my bare hands! I’ll claw their eyes out!”

Your earnest defense of him only makes Max laugh harder, lines crinkling around his eyes. “Wow, my very own bodyguard. I feel so safe now.” He shoots an amused look over your shoulder at where Charles is hovering uncertainly.

“I’m serious!” You insist, giving his cheeks a shake. Tears are starting to prick at your eyes, a side effect of how emotionally open you become when intoxicated. “You’re just … you’re the best, Maxie. The absolute best. Those people don’t deserve you. You deserve the world.”

Max’s gaze softens as your alcohol-tinged words slur together. “Hey now, no need to get all weepy on me.” He uses his thumbs to wipe at the dampness on your cheeks. “I’m good, I promise. More than used to a few boos by now.”

You hiccup, arms tightening around his neck as you bury your face against his chest. “Still shouldn’t happen. You’re too precious for this world.”

A warm hand settles on your back. “Alright, alright, I think someone’s had enough fun for one night.” Charles gently tries to extricate you from Max’s embrace.

“Nooo!” You cling stubbornly to your friend. “I’m not done telling Maxie how much I love and appreciate him! Don’t take me away!”

Max snorts, wrapping one arm around your waist to keep you from toppling over. “It’s okay, Charles. She’s not bothering me at all. I think it’s sweet.”

“That may be, but we both know how much of a sloppy drunk she can be.” Charles glances pointedly at the damp spot on Max’s shirt. “I don’t want her embarrassing you or getting sick all over the place.”

You finally lift your head to pout at your boyfriend. “I would never! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As if to prove your point, you sway unsteadily on your feet, having to clutch at Max’s biceps to stay upright. Both men eye you skeptically.

“Sure, ma belle. Just let me get you home before you really make a scene, okay?” Charles reaches for you again, more insistently this time.

Evading his grasp, you stumble back a step, shaking your head adamantly. “No! I don’t wanna go home yet! The night is still so young!”

You spread your arms out, twirling in a wobbly circle that has both Charles and Max tensing like they expect you to topple over at any second. When you come to a halt, Max’s chest is suddenly right in front of you.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck and plant a smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving a ruby imprint of your lipstick behind. “I love you, Maxie!”

“Whoa, okay!” Max goes cross-eyed for a second at your proximity, hands fluttering uncertainly by his sides. “I, uh, I love you too, but — Charles? A little help here, mate?”

Charles is at your side in an instant, trying to unwrap your limbs from around Max with minimal grabbing or yanking. “Come on, mon cœur, let’s go. You’ve had more than enough fun tormenting poor Max for one night.”

“M’not tormenting!” You protest, slurring. You pat clumsily at Max’s face, smearing more lipstick in the process. “Just telling the truth! My favoritest person!”

“We both know that’s not true,” Charles says with a squeeze of his eyes, finally managing to dislodge you from Max. He sweeps you into his arms bridal style. “Say goodnight to Max, chérie.”

“Nooo! Put me down!” You kick your feet halfheartedly, craning your neck to mouth “love you” at Max one more time over Charles’ shoulder.

Max just waves, that amused grin still playing around his lips as Charles carts you away. You pout, collapsing back against your boyfriend’s chest with a grumpy huff of, “You’re the worst.”

“So you keep telling me.” Charles presses a kiss to your slack mouth, not seeming bothered in the slightest by your drunken ire. “But you’ll thank me for this tomorrow when you don’t have a raging hangover.”

Since Charles is clearly intent on removing you from the club no matter how much you protest, you decide to bask in the warmth and closeness of being carried. Nuzzling into the curve of his neck, you mumble, “I really do love Max so so so much though.”

“I know you do.” Charles’ thumb strokes over your cheek, touch unbearably tender. “In your own weird and oddly endearing way.”

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut against the harsh lights of the club’s entrance as Charles carries you outside. “M’not weird! Just honest when I’m drunk!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, amused.

The sounds of thumping bass and crowd chatter fade as he deposits you carefully in the backseat of the waiting car. You immediately curl onto your side, blinking up at him owlishly from the leather seat.

Charles brushes the hair back from your face with a soft smile. “I really do adore you, you know? Even when you’re sloppy drunk and mauling Max with affection.”

Biting your lip, you grab his hand and turn your face to press a kiss against his palm. “I adore you too, Charlie. The mostest.”

His dimples appear and he leans down to catch your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, he looks almost dazed for a moment before giving himself a shake. “Get some rest, mon ange. I’ll get us home safe and sound.”

You hum agreeably, already feeling sleep start to tug at your eyelids. Just before you drift off, you slur one last thing.

“Y’know you’re still my favoritest person though, right? Always an’ forever, baby.”

Charles ducks back into the car to place one more tender kiss on your forehead. “I know. Always and forever.”

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade's life and his mental health issues a lot, and I just thought about this. Not only being abused, but his entire brain being made out of cancer, and the fact that oxygen was physically taken from his brain over the course of 2+ days multiple times?

We see him coloring a lot and claim multiple times that he doesn't/ can't read (this is probably a bit, I guarantee he can read), but it had me thinking what if some days were more childish then others as part of his coping mechanisms?

At first, Logans was really confused about why Althea puts up with it until he realizes that it's extremely good for him to just... be taken care of? Praised and given affection for the bare minimum? He thinks it's weird. This wasn't the same man he was fighting with yesterday.

Coming into the living room, he sees Wade sprawled out with crayons and markers all around him with multiple pictures already coloured, his notebook having pages ripped out of it as he kicks his feet and hums.

On the tv, there are cartoons playing. Once in a while, he'll look up at the tv and then go back to coloring. "What are you doing??"

"Hi wolvie. 'm colouring."

"He's behaving, so don't ruin it." Al says. There's pictures by her, and she is holding a box of cereal.

"O..kay??" Sitting down, he's almost too curious to just walk away, picking up puppins so she doesn't ruin his drawings, petting her confusedly.

Sometimes, Al will hold out some cereal in her hand. "Wade." And he will see him shimmy over and take the cereal. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby."

As hes scooting back to his color spot he stops and watches the tv for a bit longer then usual.

"...What.. the fuck." Logan says to her and she gives him a brow raise. "What?"

"What is he doing?"

"He's coloring. And I thought I was the blind one."

"No no I mean.. those aren't murder plans. That's puppins."

"Yes? And?"

"And.. what did you do to him?"

"Treated him like a human being. Give it a try once inawhile." She says, and he comes back with more pictures, climbing in between them with no regard for space as he leans into her.

"Oh thank you. What is it?"

"It's you."

"Oh? How sweet. Do I look good?"

"Mhm!"

"Im glad. How about you show our friend here your amazing pictures. And he better be nice!"

So wade turns and now is leaning on logan as he points to a different picture. One of Logan with Puppins on a leash with a sun in the corner and crappy grass, a hearts all over the place.

At first he wants to tell him to get off of him, but seeing the pictures and how excited his eyes were to show him, it hits him and he understands.

".. uhm.. thank you?" But he puts it back in his hand. "Oh- you want me to keep it?"

Wade nods and starts cleaning up his crayons.

Logan turns to whisper to Al "How long does this go on?"

"About 2 hours or so."

"Why?"

"God only knows, but it helps with his nightmares."

"Colouring helps with his nightmares??"

"Its more then that. Hey sweetheart? Why don't you bring your ponys out."

"Theyre horses."

"Oh im sorry, my mistake. I think logan here wants to play horses."

Logan gives her a look like excuse me? When did I sign up for that? "No.. uhm.. I think im good."

Wade gets this look of sad innocence but goes to get them anyway, beginning to play by himself, brushing them and making them talk to each other quietly. As if he speaks any louder, he would get hit.

Logan groans and is like "Gimme a fucking horse.."

From then on, Logan is quick to understand what's happening and is much nicer to him, starts giving him snacks, buying him actual coloring books, and has pinned his drawings to the fridge each time he's gifted one. His horses name is Buttercup, by the way.

[alleiwentcrazy]

“Wait,” Steve propped himself on his elbow, getting into a half-lying, half-sitting up position, “you’d do that for me?”

“Yeah man,” Eddie replied. He shimmied a little bit closer to the middle of the mattress and snuggled to his pillow. His eyebrows furrowed as he yawned. “I mean, I kind of did that already, didn’t I?”

Steve just kept on looking at him, stunned. It felt so strange to be cared for; to be remembered, known. He’d never had been, not like that—with Robin, sure, but that was different. He’d never felt like that with Nancy. With anyone. He hadn’t had to try and make out someone’s silhouette in the darkness, just to read their face and decide whether they were just selfless and nice or doing something for him. Truly for him, for the sake of doing it for him. It had never been an issue, because there had never been anyone about whom he’d had to wonder things like that. It had always been an exchange of sorts in this context.

But not with Eddie.

Steve’s head started to spin.

“Honestly I can’t wait for you to see it. You know she’s not really my type, but even I can see how fucking cool this car is. It felt a little like tuning my guitar or—”

Steve didn’t even register it when he reached for Eddie’s face, his consciousness wasn’t in the room when he lowered himself down and sank even closer to the boy who’d put his heart in a wrench. He just kissed him, and when he did – momentarily, it was a complete bliss. As long as his lips were gently pressed to Eddie’s, no matter how hard his heart was beating, it felt like he would be okay after all. Nothing else was important; he was kissing Eddie. He felt warm and cared for; he was kissing Eddie. 

Eddie.

Steve felt a finger hook at the rim of his shirt, he felt himself being pulled closer.

The panic came approximately three seconds later.

Their lips parted with the softest tsk, but Steve heard it several times louder. His senses were screaming at him, all alarms set off; the smell of Eddie’s shampoo lingered around his face, the sensation of chapped lips lingered against his, his fingers were tingling where they came in contact with Eddie’s slightest stubble.

It was curious how much Eddie reminded him of a cat at that moment. He was rigid, but ready to spring into action whenever, and his eyes were ridiculously big, almost fluorescent in the dim moonlight that was seeping through the trailer’s curtains. The longer Steve looked into those eyes, the more he felt like he might have fucked up. Bad.

“Should I—I should, I mean I…” He trailed off, getting a little further away from Eddie with every word. “I should, yeah, probably. Go.”

He practically jumped out of the bed, and it pained him how cold it was without Eddie close to him. He’d gotten so used to sleeping here, just sleeping, whenever Wayne was out and no uncomfortable questions would be asked, so that they both could feel a little less alone.

“I’ll take the van, we’ll exchange cars later today, alright?” Steve looked for his change of clothes in the darkness. They were, as usual, neatly stacked in his designated space at Eddie’s desk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I mean, I did, but I’m, uh. I’m…” He trailed off, his cheeks getting embarrassingly hot and pink, he supposed, even though he couldn’t see himself in the mirror.

It felt wrong to say he was sorry. He was, obviously, he just kissed Eddie out of nowhere, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. His lips were still warm. He wanted to purse them tightly to keep the memory of Eddie’s lips on his firmly in place.

“We should do it again.”

Steve froze.

“What?”

He turned back towards the bed. It was much easier to make out Eddie’s form now. He was sitting up, chewing his thumbnail, his eyes barely flickering to Steve. His hair stood out against the white-ish wall and Eddie’s gray T-shirt. The waves were quite disheveled, but still cascaded beautifully over his shoulders.

Damn, Steven.

“We should do it again. If you’re not sure, we should do it again.”

Not sure about what? Steve did not dare ask. Eddie looked so nervous, maybe even more nervous than Steve felt. Both of their breaths were coming short now, as if they’d just run a marathon.

Apprehensively, Steve sat back down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped underneath him and he swayed a bit forward.

“We should kiss. Again?” That really was what it was, right?

Eddie nodded his head quickly. Steve’s breath hitched when the smell of Eddie’s shampoo reached his nose once again.

There were very few thoughts in Steve’s head. There was just Eddie, right in front of him, chewing his nail, nodding away. Wanting to kiss him, again, having been kissed once already. Steve was confused and more than a little queasy, but his willpower wasn’t quite strong enough to get him questioning things.

“Okay,” he mumbled. Eddie finally looked at him, lowered his hand to his lap and nodded.

Some sort of nervous sound rumbled in the back of Steve’s throat. Okay. It was okay. He leaned in—and Eddie leaned in at the same time. Warm breath tickled Steve’s lips, and he stopped just before meeting Eddie half-way.

“Are you su—”

Eddie was kissing him before the sentence got out of his mouth in its entirety. Really kissing him, not just pressing their lips together, kissing him, still incredibly stiff and distanced, but kissing him. Oh, with something more than just curiosity, Steve could tell. He let out one heavy breath through his nose and felt Eddie relax right away with him. Their lips were in perfect harmony; Steve’s chest tightened. His stomach felt heavy and full and squirmy and for some reason Steve had never felt better than in this moment, even though his eyes stung and he could barely breathe.

His hands acted on their own accord, one settling on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on his cheek, keeping him close, closer, closer still.

Their lips parted. Steve felt the loss immediately.

“I’m gonna…” Eddie whispered huskily, untangling his legs from the cover and shifting his position. It was funny how one of his knees kind of hovered over Steve’s lap in silent question – it was even funnier how long it took Steve to process that.

“Yeah, feel free, please.”

What the fuck, Steven.

Eddie straddled his lap and leaned right back for another kiss, pressing their chests together. Their hearts kept thump thump thumping loudly against their chests, and Steve was kind of actively losing his mind over that. Eddie, in his gray T-shirt and stupid plaid shorts, was straddling his lap, kissing him, making him believe that he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. Was it even real? Could Steve touch him? Would it really be alright? He laid his hand on Eddie’s thigh, feeling hair and goosebumps underneath his fingers. Another conclusion from that night: Eddie was hot. Steve kissed him harder, and he reciprocated, grabbing Steve’s neck.

Steve had no idea for how long they had been kissing, until Eddie swayed dangerously close to the edge of the bed and Steve’s neck started to hurt. It wasn’t nearly enough, but that was it.

For now, hopefully.

“It’s getting late,” he mumbled against Eddie’s lips, “and you’ve got to be at the shop at 8 sharp tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said and stole one more peck. “You wanna sleep?”

Fuck me if I can, Steve thought, but nodded yes.

“But let’s talk tomorrow? Okay?”

Eddie’s hands were still cupping his cheeks. His lips seemed sleek and shiny, shinier than his eyes, even.

“We must,” he replied. They both nodded. For some reason Steve’s heart started beating even faster now.

Eddie scrambled from his lap, cleared his throat and rearranged the covers, getting back into his favourite position. Steve followed suit. The gap between them seemed enormous and immediately got filled with anxious energy.

Steve reached between them hesitantly. For a few seconds his hand just lay there, empty and suddenly very cold. Eddie’s open palm touched his. He let out a big breath.

They would figure it out. For sure. Tomorrow.

[scarlethexelove]

Growing A Family

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Milf!Reader

Word Count: 1451

Warnings: Smut, Intersex!Natasha, P in V, Nat really wants a baby, a bit of a breeding kink, Belly bulge, kitchen sex, Unprotected sex obviously, maybe other things.

Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4

A/n: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Just Nat being cute and deserving a family. This is just nice and cute and soft. Did I mention Nat is adorable.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Your soft hums fill Natasha’s ears as she enters the kitchen. She leans against the door frame admiring your form as you clean up. Your jeans hugging your hips perfectly, your plush thighs, and how they accentuating your ass deliciously. You haven’t even noticed her return as your mind stays focused on the task in front of you. Nat pushes herself off the frame and makes her way over to you. She tightly grips your hips as she presses her front against your back. You gasp in surprise but relax in her hold. “Mmm your ass looks delicious in these jeans.” Nat kisses your shoulder as she pulls you impossibly close. “Thank you baby.” You giggle as a blush spreads across your cheeks. 

Nat has just returned from dropping off your daughter at Yelena’s place wanting to give you a break and spend some quality time together. Setting her plan in motion. Her lips trail to your neck nipping at the skin as her hands slide up under shirt cupping your clothed breast. “Natty.” You try to swat her away but the moan you let out as she sucks harshly on your pulse point has you faltering. “Have a baby with me.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls your bra down causing your breast to spill out giving her access to squeeze them. 

A whimper falls from your lips but you try to compose yourself. “N-Natty. We talked about t-this.” You stutter slightly. You two have had this conversation before, no kids until she retires. You’ve been a single parent before and said you wouldn’t add another child to your family if you had to do it again. Nat understood this and accepted your conditions. She wasn’t ready to give up that life before but now she was ready. She wanted to settle down with you and raise a family together. She loves your daughter as if she was her own and wanted nothing more than to give her a sibling. 

“I had a meeting with Fury this morning.” Nat mumbles against the skin of your shoulder. You give her a hum, encouraging her to continue knowing she is leading this somewhere. “I’m done detka. No more missions, no more being gone for weeks on end. I want to be here with you, with Elizabeth, to grow our family. He offered for me to train recruits as needed, so I’ll only have to be there a couple days a week.” She kisses your shoulder softly as she speaks and softly massages your breast. You try to turn around in her hold, but she holds you tighter, pushing you further, pinning you between her body and the counter. 

“I’m going to put a baby in you.” Nat bites down on your neck. You can’t help the moan that slips past your lips wanting nothing more than to feel your wife filling you up. You can feel her already hardened cock pressing against your ass. “Please.” You whimper. One of Nat’s arms wraps around you tightly as the other moves down. Her fingers find the button to your pants and undo them, the zipper following soon after. Her fingers hook into the waistband of both your jeans and panties as she pulls them down. You help shimmy them down until they are around your knees. 

Nat then moves that hand between your bodies, pushing her sweatpants and boxers down to her thighs. She nips and sucks at the skin of your neck and shoulders. Her cock slaps against your ass before she humps you slightly. Her cock already getting coated in your arousal as she does so. “Fuck printsessa you're so wet for me already.” You nod. “Please Natty want you to fill me.” Nat groans. “Oh detka I’m going to keep filling you until you're pregnant with my baby.” She lines her member up with your entrance slowly pushing into you. 

When the head of her cock fully presses in, Nat moves her hands back cupping your breast in each hand. She tweaks your nipples the further she presses into you. Both of you moan at the feeling of her filling you up. “Always so tight for me printsessa no matter how many times I fuck you.” Your walls deliciously squeezing her the further she pushes in until she is fully sheathed inside of you. You let out a gasp at the feeling of being so full. 

Nat lets you get used to her size as she continues to massage your breast. “Fuck I can’t wait to see these grow. Your belly swollen with my baby. You will look so fucking hot.” Nat mumbles against your skin. You nod along with her words. “F-fuck, please Natty want it so bad.” You start pressing back into her letting her know that she can move. She starts to slowly pull out before pushing back in. Her thrust starts off at a slower pace as she builds up speed. You let out small gasps and whines as her pace builds. 

You let your head fall to the side giving Nat more access. One of your hands moves up and behind you as you lace your fingers through Nat’s hair as she litters marks on your skin. Her thrust finds a steady pace as her cock plunges into your hole. Your walls are sucking her in with every thrust of her hips. Your moans grow louder as they bounce off the walls of the kitchen. Your body is still pressed against the counter as Nat holds you up. “So good.” You slur your words as the pleasure courses through you. Your grip on Nat’s hair tightens, causing the woman to moan and bite down harder on your skin. 

As Nat thrusts into you, you press your body back into hers, matching her pace. Her cock reached depths that you didn’t know where possible. One of Nat’s hands slides down your stomach until she feels how her cock fills you up. With every thrust pressing lightly into her hand has her moaning loudly in your ear. She presses down on the spot causing a gush of arousal and your mouth to hang open in a silent scream. “Feel how deep I’m inside you. My big cock filling your tiny little hole to the brim.” You nod and moan. “Y-Yes, fuck.” She smirks. 

The closer you grow to your release, your walls squeeze and suck Nat in. Her thrust are starting to become more erratic as she chases her high. She presses down harder on your abdomen, causing your grip on her hair to tighten her scalp, burning with a mix of pleasure and pain. You don’t know how it is possible as her thrust speeds up. Your orgasm is quickly approaching, and so is Nats. “Mmm wanna cum.” You whine already teetering on the edge. Nat’s thrust are sloppy and you can feel her cock twitching inside of you. “Hold it printsessa.” She murmurs in your ear. 

It takes everything in you to comply with her words. You're so close to letting go that you don’t know how it hasn’t washed over you yet. Nat keeps thrusting as your walls clamp around her, desperate for release. It doesn’t take long before Nat is also on the edge. “Cum detka.” She presses down again on where her cock fills you causing you to let out a scream of pleasure. The pressure causes you to release all over her cock. Your whole body trembling in her hold as the powerful orgasm washes over you. Her hips stutter at the same time as she releases inside of you. She paints your walls white with her cum, filling you even fuller than you already were. She groans as your walls milk her dry. Nat ruts into you to prolong both of your orgasms. She slowly comes to a stop when you whimper a bit from how sensitive you are. She doesn’t pull out wanting to keep her cum inside of you for as long as possible. 

“Are you okay detka?” Nat asks as she holds you gently in her arms, keeping you upright as your legs shake. You hum as your head falls back on her shoulder and you relax back into her. She peppers you with soft kisses as you both calm down. “I love you.” You mumble tiredly. Nat smiles. “I love you to printsessa.” 

A peaceful bliss washes over you as your mind wanders to the future. Growing your family with the woman that you love seems to come at the perfect time. A new journey for you to take together, but you're both excited for it. To finally have all that you could have ever wanted with the perfect woman.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

summary: joel secretly watches you shower.

warnings: 18+ mdni. older!joel miller x afab!reader. dubcon -> reader has no idea. reader has a bush but no other physical descriptors. male masturbation. joel is a conflicted, dirty old man but we love him so. w.c: 1.3k

author's note: the title is way too sweet for this. thank you @ghotifishreads for looking this over!

Part 2 — heavenly bound

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel is a bad man. 

A very, very bad man. 

Still, he couldn't think of a reason to stop as he gripped the base of his cock and began to stroke while he watched you dance like a sprite under the flowing stream.

It was a miracle the two of you stumbled upon a YMCA this far from the city. Joel figured it'd be swarming with people or worse, but it was oddly barren aside from crawling vines and small critters living in the alcoves. 

It was even rarer that the water would still be working, but after you begged him with those big doe eyes, Joel checked it out. 

You wait anxiously on a pathway in the center of a large washroom, shifting back and forth on your feet between the shower stalls while Joel stands in one of the less scary cubicles. The room was a mess. Mud cakes the floor and walls; once pearly white tiles are now smeared with dirt. Various tiles and mirrors are splintered and broken. 

"'ere goes nothin'." Joel turns the knob, and the pipes behind the wall make a slew of thuds and loud creaking noises before a rush of water flows from the tap like a waterfall spilling over the edge of a cliff. 

"No, shit." Joel curses in shock and tests the water's temp. "S'ice cold." he hisses before stepping out of the tiny stall. 

You squeal elatedly. Uncaring about the cold, you move closer and cup your hands under the stream. You let out a soft moan at the frigid temperature. The unruly summer days were doing a number on you both.

Joel swallows hard at the sound and shifts his eyes to the floor before spying a few bars of soap a few feet away. He grabs two and tosses you one. "I don't know about you, but I'm taking a shower now," you announce, dropping your bag into the path between the stalls.

"Guess I should, too," Joel says, looking at the other, relatively clean stall across from yours. 

"You definitely should." You quip and playfully wrinkle your nose as you shuck off your shoes.

"Shut up." Joel bites back with a sly grin. He takes a few short steps and turns the shower knob. Sure enough, crystal clear water streams freely from the head.

"See ya when we're clean." you send him a smile before tugging your curtain closed. 

Joel shifts on his feet in the small space as he watches you pile your clothes on top of your bag from behind the curtain. He should keep guard and give you some privacy, but all coherent thought evaporates when he sees and hears you step under the stream.

Sunlight pours down into your stall from a window above, creating a tempting silhouette as you shimmy in the water and let loose an unrestrained moan. The sweet sound echoes off the washroom walls and slithers into Joel's brain. It races down his spinal column, and reaches home in his groin. His cock fills with blood instantly, forcing him to bite his cheek and mute his own moan.

"Ah, what the hell," he mumbles, setting his pack next to yours and closing the curtain to his stall. He's out of his clothes quicker than he remembers moving, chucking them carelessly on the other side of the curtain. His cock stands hard and raging, but he ignores it, choosing to step under the freezing stream with the hope it'll curb his arousal. 

"Fuck." Joel groans when the cold rains down on his sweltering body.  

"Told you." he hears you tease.

Joel shakes his head with a smile. It was by chance that your paths crossed. He wasn't looking for anyone to share in this new way of life, especially after Tommy left, but as luck would have it, you stumbled into his world at the right time, and now he's not quite sure he wants to live without you in it.  

He'd kept his distance over the last few months. He was too old to get caught up in sappy feelings and didn't need the distraction when life was on the line. However, that raw, gnawing need never went away. It took him a while to relax and feel secure enough to get off, but when he did, he was able to let go and succumb to the urges he remembered enjoying so much before the outbreak. 

He scrubs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, across his broad, hairy chest, expelling dirt and grime from his skin as it swirls down the drain. His erection still hasn't faded; if anything, it's even harder now as your airy singing fills the room. 

He teethes his bottom lip as he succumbs to the urge once more and curls a soapy hand around his twitching length, circling the girthy base with a tight grip. Blood pulses in the crown— a desert sunset red, throbbing and weeping.

Joel knows it's wrong, but he's past the point of caring. With his left hand, he eases the curtain to catch another glimpse of your inviting silhouette but gets more than he imagined.

A breeze from the open window above your stall must have pushed the curtain open without you realizing. It was no bigger than a small gap, but it exposed enough of your body to Joel's prying eyes.

His jaw clenches tight as his deviant gaze travels along the wet, soapy expanse of your body. Water drips from your hairline, over your clavicle, between your breasts, and trickles down your soft belly. A mess of droplets and soapy suds cling to the patch of curls that covers your mound. Joel's cock throbs at the sight of your bush; he always loved the taste of a sweaty, hairy pussy.

You wash yourself, utterly unaware of his stare. The knot in Joel's abdomen twists, an unyielding cramp cinching ever tighter. He swirls his large, slick palm over his drooling tip, expertly moving with the right touch, trying his quickest to get off before the floor opens up and swallows him whole.

His sac tightens, drawing up as an intense wave burns through his gut. He watches with shameless infatuation as you run your soapy hands around your breasts and between your legs before rinsing away the filth. He roughly thrusts into his grip, imagining it's your cunt as it hugs and swirls around him while he greedily fucks into your warmth. He wants nothing more than to feel you under him, writhing from his illicit and soothing touch. 

His spine curves as he hunches over and leans one hand on the wall for support as he comes with a mess of deep, broken grunts. Fingers scratch the tile, body quivering with searing pleasure as thick white ropes splash against the dingy tile; he pictures you gasping for him while he fills you to the brim.

Shame creeps in, swarming hot and fast like the midday sun after a summer rainstorm. He yanks his hand from his cock like he's been burnt when you suddenly appear on the other side of the curtain.

"Are you almost done?" your voice cutting through the white noise of the shower stream. Joel peers around the side of the curtain, eyes piercing yet sorrowful. "Yeah, gimme a minute."

For now, Joel shakes off his shame. He cleans himself up and haphazardly splashes the wall with water, washing away any evidence of his perverted seclusion.

"Here," he hears you say as you hand him his clothes. He opens the curtain a bit and notices your eyes are cast downward. Joel instantly feels the sharp fangs of regret sink into his flesh; you must've heard him. 

"Thanks," Joel mutters. His fingers brush yours as he grabs his clothes, making your big eyes snap to his before they curiously travel down over his bouldering, sun-kissed shoulders. He watches your jaw drop with a silent gasp, and your knees slightly buckle at the dewy sight of him.

"Be right out," he smirks when you forget to let go of his clothes, forcing you to mumble a mortified apology before he closes the curtain.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he's not as bad as he thinks, and just maybe he might have a chance with you.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

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