#got off track again in the tags lol

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[robo-dino-puppy]

here's a return to sunfall (and blazon arch and the two carja gates near it)! the mod has been updated so there were no more endless loading screens when i recorded this :D makes exploring much more fun!

i'm not as excited about this thumbnail but it took a lot of super annoying work to set up so here's a(n unfortunately small) version without text:

[yusufstits]

thinking about nile having nightmares and not being able to sleep post london and then being very tired during the day and taking naps on whoever's around

[coridallasmultipass]

You're having a better day than me.

[fluffyblue-multifandommess]

i hate this thing some people in fandom do - probably especially younger fans - where they take a character who is a bad person and will just. attribute random Bad Actions to them with absolutely no thought to character consistency.

and like. it's just fandom, it's just headcanons, etc, it doesn't really matter. but I think it's another symptom of the black-and-white thinking a lot of younger people fall into, and I really wish it would just stop.

[nereidprinc3ss]

fixation

in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.

18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D

Spencer is reading. 

He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway. 

Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...

And... that's enough.

Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior. 

“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg. 

“Hi.”

For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm.”

His brow darts up. 

“With what, baby?”

Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy. 

Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly. 

“Um…”

Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—

You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp. 

It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out. 

“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout. 

“I was.”

Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”

“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He  cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin. 

“Don’t make it about me.”

You allow a minute to pass in silence. 

Fine.

“I liked it,” you say shyly. 

Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”

Like he couldn’t tell. 

“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”

His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”

You make a face. “Shut up.”

“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”

“Is that the saying?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”

“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”

Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck. 

“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”

His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”

It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”

“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”

“It was mean.”

“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’ll let me do it again?”

Spencer pulls you back into another kiss. 

“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?” 

When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly. 

“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”

You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward. 

“You’re so nice, Spence.”

“I thought I was mean.” 

“Now you’re nice.”

“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again. 

[deerlino]

Hey hey hey

Can i please request producer!grumpy! Chan x producer! Sunshine! Reader? Enemies-to-lovers?? Like chan has a bad first impression on reader and doesn't like her but like they get put together for work and he falls in love?? Can you make it really fluffy and domestic at the end (like they're in a r/s and like they kiss and cuddle alot????)

thawing the ice.

bang chan x fem!reader / at first, chan really didn’t like you and had a bad first impression of you. but then, you got teamed up for a project. spending time together changed everything, and he found himself falling for you.

additional tags / grumpy producer chan x sunshine producer reader (i mean… i tried. 😭), fluff, domestic fluff, forced proximity, mutual pining, workplace romance, love confessions, love-hate relationship, dislike to lovers — 1.5k words in total.

content warnings / kisses, smooches, and cuddles

authors notes @ anon / hey heyo anon <3, thanks for the awesome request! loved writing this. you asked for enemies to lovers, but the enemies part kinda fizzled out while i was writing—not my strongest trope, lol 😭 still, hope you enjoy it !! <3

You glance at your watch, groaning internally. It’s barely eight in the morning and you’re already heading to the studio for another day of work. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that you were going to be working closely with Chan. Again.

It’s not that you dislike Chan. Honestly, how could you? He’s talented, driven, and ridiculously handsome. But from the moment you met him, he’s been nothing but cold and dismissive. It’s like he’s made it his mission to make your life difficult.

As you walk into the studio, you see him already there, his back to you as he fiddles with some equipment. You take a deep breath, plastering a smile on your face. “Morning, Chan!”

He doesn’t turn around. “Morning.”

You suppress a sigh. Another day, another brush-off.

You set your bag down and get to work, trying to ignore the icy atmosphere. The day drags on, the silence between you both filled with nothing but the hum of electronics and the occasional muttered curse from Chan.

Finally, after what feels like hours, you manage to get him to talk. “Hey, Chan, can you listen to this track? I think it needs something, but I can’t figure out what.”

He looks up, eyebrows raised. “You want my opinion?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re one of the best producers here,” you say, trying not to sound too sarcastic. He might be a jerk, but you still need his input.

He listens to the track, his expression unreadable. “It needs more bass. And the vocals are too soft. They need to be more upfront.”

You nod, making notes. “Got it. Thanks.”

The rest of the day goes by in much the same way, but you notice something strange. Every time you ask for his help, he gives it without complaint. And every now and then, you catch him watching you, a strange look in his eyes.

***

As the weeks go by, things start to change. It’s subtle at first. He starts offering his help without being asked. He brings you coffee in the mornings, saying it’s just because he’s getting one for himself anyway. He even starts making small talk.

One day, as you’re both working late, he surprises you. “Hey, do you want to grab some dinner after this?”

You blink, taken aback. “Uh, sure. That sounds great!”

You end up at a little diner, talking and laughing like old friends. It’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile, and it takes your breath away.

“You know,” he says, looking down at his plate, “I don’t actually hate you.”

You laugh, but it’s a little shaky. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He looks up, his eyes serious. “I’m... I’m not good at this. At feelings. I’ve liked you since the day we met, but I didn’t know how to act around you. I thought being distant would make it easier.”

Your heart skips a beat. “You like me?”

He nods, looking almost shy. “Yeah. A lot.”

You reach across the table, taking his hand. “I like you too, Chan. A lot.”

***

From that night on, things change even more. You’re not just coworkers anymore. You’re friends. And, slowly, you become something more.

There are late nights at the studio where he pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly as you work.

It’s nearly midnight, and you and Chan are the only ones left in the studio. The room is dimly lit, the glow from the computer screens casting a soft light over everything. You’re both exhausted, but there’s still work to be done. You’re hunched over your laptop, tweaking some last-minute details on a track, when you feel his presence behind you.

“Hey, take a break,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky from hours of talking and singing.

“I just need to finish this part,” you reply, not looking up. “Almost done.”

He sighs, but there’s a smile in his voice. “Alright, Miss Perfectionist.”

You hear him move around, and then suddenly, you’re being lifted out of your chair. “Chan!” you yelp, but he just laughs, pulling you into his lap as he sits back down.

“Relax,” he says, his arms wrapping around you. “You’ve been working too hard.”

You lean back against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“I know,” he says, his lips brushing against your ear. “But you need to take care of yourself too.”

You tilt your head, looking up at him. “And what about you? You’ve been working just as hard.”

He grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m taking care of myself right now.”

You smile, your heart fluttering. “Okay, fine. Five-minute break.”

“Good,” he says, his lips trailing down your neck. “Because I need more of this.”

You close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips on your skin, the warmth of his arms around you. In that moment, all the stress and exhaustion melts away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

Then, there are lazy Sundays spent cuddling on the couch, watching movies and stealing kisses.

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re both sprawled on the couch, watching a movie. Chan’s arm is draped over your shoulders, and your head rests against his chest. The movie is some cheesy rom-com, but neither of you are really paying attention. You’re too busy stealing kisses and laughing at each other’s jokes.

“Hey, pay attention,” you say, swatting his hand away as he tries to tickle you. “This is the best part.”

“Oh, really?” he teases, his fingers brushing against your side again. “What happens?”

You laugh, trying to squirm away. “Stop! You’ll see.”

He grins, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

You settle back against him, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. It’s moments like this that make everything worth it. The late nights, the long hours, all of it. Because at the end of the day, you have this. You have him.

“You know,” he says suddenly, his voice soft, “I could get used to this.”

You look up at him, surprised. “What, lazy Sundays?”

He shakes his head, his eyes serious. “No. Us. Being together like this.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Me too.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. It’s slow and sweet, full of all the things he can’t put into words. And you know, without a doubt, that you feel the same way.

Then, there are also mornings where you wake up tangled together, his arms around you and his breath warm against your neck.

The first rays of sunlight are just starting to filter through the curtains when you wake up. You’re tangled in the sheets, Chan’s arm draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. You can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, his body a comforting weight against yours.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to see his face. He looks so peaceful, so different from the grumpy, guarded man you met months ago. You reach up, brushing a strand of hair away from his face, and he stirs, his eyes slowly opening.

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you reply, smiling. “Sleep well?”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do when you’re here.”

You feel your heart swell at his words. “You’re sweet, you know that?”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “Only for you.”

You laugh, rolling over to face him. “Lucky me.”

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes soft as they meet yours. “Lucky me.”

You lean in, kissing him softly. It’s a slow, lingering kiss, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You smile, your heart feeling like it might burst. “I love you too.”

And as you lie there, wrapped up in each other, you know that this is where you’re meant to be. With him. Always.

***

One evening, as you’re sitting on a bench at the park together, he turns to you, his expression serious. “You know, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You make me want to be better. For you.”

You smile, your heart swelling. “You already are, Chan. You always have been.”

He kisses you, and it’s slow and sweet, full of all the things he’s never been able to say. And you know, without a doubt, that he loves you.

As the months go by, you can see the change in him. He’s still grumpy and a little rough around the edges, but there’s a softness to him now, a warmth that wasn’t there before. And you know that, no matter what, you’ll always have each other.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you turn to him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Hey, Chan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we ended up working together. Even if you were a jerk at first.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Me too. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For being a jerk.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You’re forgiven. Just... keep being you. That’s all I need.”

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, you know that you’ve found something special. Something real. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

© deerlino (est. 090624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Ending One: Queen of the Jungle

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: For Tumblr, the mature version of the endings (the afterendings) will begin sometime after I finish all the normal endings.

Note 2: Sorry this is short, I wasn't sure how to write this one lol.

In each hand you carried a bucket, filled to the brim with steaks. It was kind of nostalgic of your first time in the exhibit. It was hard to believe it wasn’t that long ago.

You hummed to yourself as you approached the lions’ area. You furrowed your brow- the rocks had been rearranged in nearly a complete circle, with just enough room for you to walk inside and approach the king of the jungle’s sunning rock.

“Hey, Leona!” you called out to the lion halfling lazily regarding you from his perch, “Dinner time!”

The pride’s leader leapt down from his resting spot and casually approached you, his movements lazy yet filled with grace. His eyes, intelligent and painfully sharp, never left you as you entered the circle of rocks.

The other lions were nowhere to be found. Confused, you searched for them in the shade of the rocks, but there was no one there.

As you reached the middle of the circle, something occurred to you. The usually-cackling hyenas were unusually quiet. The hairs on your arms stood on end. Something’s wrong.

You turned to face the circle’s exit and, within an instant, strong arms had wrapped around your stomach, pulling you back against a solid chest. You gasped and dropped both buckets as you struggled to break free. The grip did not budge no matter how hard you fought.

“Shhh, easy there, herbivore,” a voice murmured in your ear, low and gravely and filled with amusement.

Your heart jumped out of your chest. It was Leona who had spoken, but it wasn’t the Leona you knew. It was the Leona whose gaze had started to linger too long for your liking. The Leona who had always seemed too much like a predator than a human.

But he wasn’t alone. 

Now facing the circle’s gap, you saw Ruggie, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he blocked your only exit.

“Gotcha!” Ruggie snickered, “Took you long enough.”

“What… what are you doing?!” you cried, trying to twist out of Leona’s grasp, making no progress whatsoever on escaping.

Leona’s breath was hot against your neck, “You spend too much time with those other exhibits,” he spat out the word like it was a slur, “You must pay more attention to us.”

Ruggie snickered again and leaned casually against the towering rocks, his eyes tracking every movement you made, “You ignore us. Not fair, y’know? You must remember your real favorites.”

Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay calm, “This isn’t funny- let me go.”

Leona chuckled, the sound vibrating through your back, “We’re not joking, herbivore. You play with fire, you get burnt. We don’t like to share.”

“Share?” you echoed, voice shaky with fear and confusion, “What do you-”

“You’re ours,” Leona interrupted sternly, “You have always been ours.”

Ruggie pushed off the rock and sauntered over, his sharp-canined grin widening as he got closer, “You should have seen this coming. We dropped hints. You’re just too silly to notice.”

Leona’s nose brushed against your hair, inhaling deeply, “We’re tired of waiting around. You stay here now.”

You began to thrash desperately in his hold, but he held you effortlessly, like a mouse in a cat’s jaws.

“You’ll love it here!” Ruggie cooed, “No more zoo. No more stress. Just you, us, and the savannah. We will keep you cool. It’s perfect.”

The reality of the situation hit you all at once. They weren’t going to let you leave. They were deadly serious. The playful smile Ruggie wore was just a mask for the possession lurking beneath.

It was too much for you, and as hopelessness began to sink in, you began to cry, “Please just let me go, we can forget this ever happ-”

“You will not leave,” Leona growled, “You are our mate. And if anyone tries to take you away…”

You gulped at the insinuation. 

Ruggie moved closer and brushed a stray tear from your cheek, “Don’t cry. We take good care of you, promise. You won’t worry ever again.”

The vast savannah, once one of your favorite parts of the zoo, now felt like a huge, hot cage.

You were no longer a researcher to them. That much was clear.

And there was no escape from the lion’s den.

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 3 | long (and a little bit of mutual pining but the kind when they're literally dating which i think is even more pathetic)

tags: modern day, famous au, actor!steve, rockstar!eddie

Eddie stayed longer than he should have. 

He was supposed to leave Chicago with the rest of the band yesterday after their show at Credit Union 1 – opening night for a year-long national tour.

Eddie didn’t leave yesterday though. Instead, he insisted on spending one last night with Steve, one last morning pretending like they would actually get up and go to that breakfast spot they like even though they both knew they’d be spending the time wrapped up together in their bed, in the home they share, refusing to disentangle themselves until they had no other choice.

No other choice meant Eddie waited so long to leave that he ended up on a flight which would get him into Ohio with barely enough time to make it to the venue in Cincinnati before showtime (and he was missing soundcheck completely – sorta shot himself in the foot with that one, in Steve's opinion, though he won’t be caught complaining).

He won’t be caught doing anything – not publicly, anyway.

Steve and Eddie’s relationship is kind of in the halfway-stage between secret and private, where Steve posts vague, faceless photos of the two of them every now and then but still deflects questions about his romantic life during interviews because – look. He and Eddie are both at weird high-points in their careers at the moment, and that means there’s a lot of eyes on them whether they like it or not. Steve had a public relationship turn sour years ago and there is no way in hell he’s letting it happen again.

Not with Eddie. Not when it counts.

There are speculations, obviously (and after Steve dropped Eddie off at O'Hare, he posted a photo of the Kiss n’ Fly sign to his IG story with the caption i hate this place :( – mostly for his own amusement at the specific way his notifications implode afterward), and they’ll probably get around to an official hard-launch someday, but for now Steve likes that they’re keeping things to themselves, especially when they don’t get to make that choice with much else.

Steve gets a just landed text from Eddie a few hours after he boarded his plane.

(Steve knew. He’d been tracking the flight).

Before he could respond, Eddie added, miss you so fn much

i miss you too, Steve texted back, and before either of them could wallow in it too much, he sent, gonna make it on time?

probably, Eddie answered. Then, getting ready in the car lol

He goes quiet after that (the getting ready, presumably), which is fine.

Steve gets it.

He’s busy too. It’s why he’s not following along on Eddie’s tour like some glorified groupie, and it’s not like the distance is anything new. On the contrary, it’s been an element of their relationship since they met at an awards show after-party four years ago. It’s more that this time around, they were supposed to only have four-and-a-half weeks together before Steve headed off on a press tour for the movie he filmed last year, but then that got pushed out a bit further, and so that four-and-a-half weeks together turned into a glorious nine, the longest Steve and Eddie’s calendars had ever been aligned without some serious planning beforehand.

He just got used to it, Steve supposes.

He got used to having Eddie around all the time, under his fingertips, under his skin. He got used to saying goodnight in person, in their bed together instead of over phone lines, got used to waking up in Eddie's arms and hearing sweet nothings whispered in his ear rather than reading the texts Eddie would leave for him to wake up to when they were apart.

He'll adjust just like he always does, and the worst part will be over tomorrow morning – that moment right between sleep and wake when Steve will realize Eddie isn’t in their bed with him.

Like it or not, the distance is their normal and they make it work (except it’s not even making it work, because it’s not like that. Any situation, any set of circumstances will work without question because it’s Eddie).

The start time for the Cincinnati show comes and goes. A few minutes into the opening act and while Steve is mindlessly flitting between Instagram and TikTok waiting for the algorithm to fill his feed with clips from the concert (ones of Eddie, preferably), his screen lights up with a call.

“Hey,” he says the second he slams his thumb on the green accept button.

“Hey,” Eddie replied, his tone nothing short of grim.

“You geared up for the show?” Steve asked.

“No,” Eddie answered, “I’m quitting.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I need you to come tuck my pockets in,” Eddie said, and it’s a goddamn wonder Steve didn’t break down then and there, because Eddie always managed to tug his pants on in a way that made the front pockets stick out just a bit, and throughout their years together Steve had gotten into the habit of tucking them back in for him, squeezing Eddie’s hips a little when he was done and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Yeah,” Steve manages a wet laugh, “I – fuck, man, I wish I was there to tuck them in for you.”

“I want you here so bad, Steve," Eddie says, "I really, really miss you."

“I miss you too,” Steve nodded, even though miss isn't a big enough word for the homesick feeling in his chest, “Only a week until the Indy show though. And I’m coming with you for the Michigan one after.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, and if he sounded a little morose about it, Steve was right there with him. Sure, it’s a comfort knowing he’ll be seeing Eddie again so soon, but when those two days are over…yeah, it’s gonna be a long goddamn while until next time, because Eddie will be playing the Midwest while Steve’s press tour is mostly on the East Coast this time around, and after that he heads up into Vancouver to shoot a period drama mini-series while Eddie plays the southern half of the US, and then…well, Steve could keep going. They’re both taking a short break for the holidays, but that and the rare weekend one of them can fly out to the other is about it for the foreseeable future.

Which, yeah, Steve loves acting, loves that he gets to make a whole career out of it, and he knows that Eddie feels the same way about his music, but…the love he has for Eddie definitely edges out the rest of it – enough that he feels the distance between him like a dull, ever-present ache whenever they’re apart.

Eddie only ends their call when his manager practically has to yank the phone out of his hand and shove him onstage, and then Steve settles back into bed, back into scrolling mindlessly on his phone waiting for his finely-tuned algorithms to do their jobs.

Sure enough, it takes less than thirty minutes for Steve’s FYP to start showing him TikToks from Eddie’s show, and amidst all the hair and leather and silver chains and chunky rings and eyeliner and manic energy, Steve sees something else, something that has the hurt of missing Eddie increasing ten-fold, something that has him seriously considering taking an ax to all his contracts and his career and his livelihood and getting on the next plane to Cincinnati.

Eddie left his pockets untucked.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hello! I've been seeing a lot of smosh vidcon content lately as well as rewatching shayne guesses and it made me brainstorm a bit!

How about a Spencer x reader where he freaks out about his favorite creator being at vidcon (the reader obvi) and the other cast members trying so hard to get them to meet and they hit it off? *you know Kiana would be allll over helping a bestie out lol*

or maybe even the same kind of thing but instead of meeting, reader is one of Spencer's fav youtubers in Shayne's guessing favorite youtubers video? Shayne immediately knows it's spencer and kind of outs his crush! reader is a big fan of smosh so she sees the video and it goes from there!

absolutely adore your work and keep it up queen! 🫶

See You Online || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you see a smosh video of spencer saying you’re one of his favorite youtubers, you begin to interact online. then, when you both attend vidcon (and spencer’s friends convince him to talk to you) you hit it off

word count: 2.6k

warnings: mild language

a/n: hey darling! so i kind of went with both of these ideas and i hope you like what i did 🤭 i included some fake insta/yt in this because it fit so this is partially a social media au. fem!reader. enjoy!!

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     “Well, this is obviously Spencer.”

     Shayne tapped his pen against the desk as he looked at the screen in front of him.

     Three YouTuber names had appeared next to him for the viewers to see. 

     “What makes it me?” Spencer’s teasing voice came from off camera. 

     “C’mon,” Shayne said. “We got Retro Game Corp, MandaloreGaming, and (Y/n) (Y/l/n).”

     He continued. “Everyone knows you love retro shit. MandaloreGaming sounds like just the kind of nerd thing you’d be into. And (Y/n)—that one’s just self explanatory. I mean, Spencer’s obsessed with (Y/n). Ask anyone in the office.”

     “Ok woah,” Spencer piped in again. “I don’t know about obsessed.”

     “Dude, you just told me yesterday that you watched her videos until two in the morning the night before,” Shayne addressed him.

      Then he faced back to the screen, to the viewers. “Spencer’s got a little bit of a crush on (Y/n). It’s uh, it’s honestly adorable.”

      A woman’s muffled voice came from offscreen. 

     Shayne laughed. “Kiana said Spencer would have (Y/n)’s babies.”

     “Dude!” Spencer yelled at Kiana offscreen. “What if she sees this!”

     “There’s no way,” Shayne laughed. “There’s no way any of the YouTubers from this video are seeing this.”

      “Imagine,” Spencer joked. “I’m like, ‘hey (Y/n), hit me up’, and then she sees this, bro.”

      “Hey,” Shayne raised his eyebrows. “You never know. I mean, I married a YouTuber.”

      “Just an excuse to bring up Courtney,” Spencer coughed.

      “Anyway,” Shayne put his hands on the table in front of him. “We’re getting a little off track here. We’ve established Spencer’s in love with (Y/n). Now—do I even have to guess?—show me Spencer!”

      He pointed to the side as an imagine of Spencer popped up on the screen. 

      “Well, thanks for that easy round,” Shayne joked. “Now, let’s see the next set of YouTubers…”

     And that was where you stopped watching the video every time. You’d seen the whole of Shayne Guesses Favorite YouTubers before, but when you went back to rewatch it, it was always this clip.

     You’d been sent this specific clip by hundreds of people. Your followers and subscribers on all different platforms. The comments ranged from ‘oh my gosh look at this’ to ‘you have to see this smosh video’ to ‘petition to get Spencer and (Y/n) to go out’.

     What they didn’t know, was that you’d seen it long before they began tagging you in it.

     You were a huge Smosh fan, and had been for years. Imagine your shock when you yourself were named in one of their videos. 

     You’d only been a creator for a little over a year now, but you’d quickly gained a following and were becoming more and more popular online. It still all felt so surreal, and seeing yourself named as someone’s favorite YouTuber—especially on one of your favorite channels—felt like a huge moment.

      That, and you were flattered by Shayne’s comments about Spencer. You thought it was sweet that he enjoyed your content and—you couldn’t stop the blush from spreading to your cheeks—you. 

      That was what prompted you to leave a comment under the video—a comment which Spencer responded to.

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Can Shayne Guess Our Favorite YouTubers? Smosh Games • 721k views • 38k 👍

comments 2.9k

yourusername ✓: does this count as being in the youtuber and the celeb crush vid?

♥️ by creator

spennser ✓: it was actually only until 1am i swear smoshyyy651: spensser LMAOOOO chumbawumbasnumbertwofan: the fact that (y/n) (y/l/n) saw this ✋😭 y/nstanforlifeee: oh my gosh my queen is here 👑 I love you and your vids (not as much as Spencer apparently asksfsk)

mya_sol: how many times have you watched 8:04? me: yes

yourfavoritepizzaplace: ‘spencer would have (y/n)’s babies’ KIANA THATS WILDDDD 💀

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    And from there, you began interacting. Leaving comments and likes on each other’s videos and instagram posts. Leaving fans to obsess over your every interaction, to make compilations, to wonder if you were dating.

     Because you’d be lying if you said you didn’t read most of the comments about you two. 

    You enjoyed your little online back-and-forth. You’d known who Spencer was before the Shayne Guesses video had come out. Watching Smosh on-and-off for years, you’d seen him in multiple videos.

     It still felt so unreal for him to know who you were—not only know who you were but like your videos.

     And now look at you, messaging him and liking his posts like you were old friends. Spencer pretty much liked and commented on every one of your feeds or stories or uploads.

     After your original comment on the Smosh video, things just…took off. You didn’t really know how it started, one comment led to another, and suddenly it was like you had always congratulated each other and left witty comments on each other’s pages. 

     You smiled as you stared at the screen of your phone, looking over your’s and Spencer’s latest interaction. You couldn’t deny that he was really cute. You’d always thought so. 

     You thought of Shayne saying that Spencer had a crush on you and you felt your smile grow bigger.

     Your empty suitcase caught your eye as you looked up, sitting on your bed and reminding you that you still had to pack.

     You set your phone down. Fangirling over Spencer could wait. You still had yet to pack for your flight that that was in two days, and you didn’t want to leave it ‘till the last minute—or, more last minute than it already was.  

     You had been lucky enough to be invited to VidCon this year, and you were thrilled about getting to go as a creator and meet other artists who had inspired you. You were less thrilled about the packing.

      You stood up and walked towards your closet, starting to decide which outfits you wanted to bring, daydreaming about what VidCon would be like. All while thinking about Spencer.

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yourusername

liked by hannahmontoya, spennser, and 21,449 others

yourusername: new vid up now !! 💌

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haleypham: about to go watch it right now xoxo love you

yourusername: stop ilysm 🤭

ynsgirlfriend: WAKE UP SHE POSTED 🙏

spennser: guess what i’m going to be doing at 2am

⤷ liked by yourusername

darlingdaisy: please do a grwm next i need to see your skincare routine!!

ryla768: we’re being fed well today 🙇‍♀️

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spennser

liked by yourusername, filmingamanda, and 17,914 others

spennser: it’s giving cat lady

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phatchanse: *cat queen

yourusername: my cat says to tell ur cat hi

spennser: my cat says ur cat’s pretty cute carmensanfransisco: LOL 😂🐈 urmom17: oh my gosh she commented spencer are you freaking out? spennser: urmom17 shitting my pants fr

jessicarabbitsimp: who else has noticed spencer and (y/n) all over each other’s igs 😏

smoshismylife: love you spencer 🫶

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liked by spennser, iamjordiofficial, and 32,712 others

yourusername: thx for 100k 🥂

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spensser: yay i contributed

⤷ liked by yourusername

yourusername: how’d you have time to create 100k accs tho? ⤷ liked by spennser

lucindajones101: congrats girlie!! you deserve it

ynfan7: my queen 🧎‍♀️

butterflyenjoyer: been here since the beginning 🥹 keep shining!!

getyninasmoshvideo: the way spencer makes an appearance on all her posts 😭

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VidCon was amazing. 

      Today was the first day, and you couldn’t wait for all the festive still to come. You had already seen so many cool presentations and been a part of so many workshops and met so many interesting people. 

      And now, as you stood at the table set aside for you, staring at the slowing line of people still waiting to meet you, you thought that this was definitely your favorite part.

     You’d gotten to talk to people who watched your channel and hear how your content had impacted their lives or inspired them to create. It really made it all feel worth it. It made you love your job and all of the opportunities it had given you.

     You’d been here for nearly two hours already, and still there were a few more fans waiting to speak with you and get a picture.  

     You smiled to yourself as the last of the people filed through, letting the momentary silence wash over you. You had just picked up your phone to take a quick selfie for a later post, when you heard a commotion to your left.

     You turned to the source of the noise and had to do a double take when you saw the entire cast of Smosh at a setup similar to yours, having their own meet and greet.

     You didn’t know why in all of your thinking about Spencer you hadn’t assumed that Smosh would be at VidCon. It seemed obvious now. They were YouTubers, weren’t they?

     Speaking of Spencer, you saw him talking to Courtney and your heart did a little flip in your chest. After interacting with him online these past few weeks, and watching his channel for these past few years, it seemed crazy to see him in person. 

     As if sensing your presence, he looked your way and you turned away in time so it didn’t look like you’d been staring. You didn’t think he’d caught you watching him. 

     “Wait? Spencer, is that (Y/n) (Y/l/n)?” Courtney’s voice carried over the several feet that separated you.

     “Oh, is it? I hadn’t noticed,” you heard him say sarcastically, even though your back was turned to him. You stepped a little bit closer to their location, pretending to be fixing something on your lanyard.

     “Dude, you have to go talk to her,” you heard a male voice—Shayne? You didn’t dare turn around—say.

     “No way man,” Spencer answered, “What would I even say?”

     “You’ve been commenting on each other’s instagrams for like a month, you’ll think of something,” Courtney said.

     “Yeah, but that’s different. This would be, like, a real conversation,” he answered. “I don’t actually know her. What if she thinks I’m just some creepy fan, and it’s like bro back off.”

     You bit your lip, stifling a giggle. Oh, what he didn’t know.

     Then the music in the venue picked up and you couldn’t hear their conversation for nearly a minute. You walked a few feet back over to your table, picking up and looking at a few of the gifts fans had given you, finding a new way to look busy. This went on for another minute before you heard a new voice say,

     “What’s this about Spence and (Y/n) (Y/l/n)?”

     “Just that Spencer’s going to go up to her,” Courtney announced. 

     “I’ll get the popcorn,” the voice said. 

     “No, Kiana,” you heard Spencer say. “That’s not what’s happening.”

     “You’ll regret if forever if you don’t go talk to (Y/n),” The voice—Kiana—stated. 

     “No way. That’d be like if I asked you to just ‘go up and talk to’ Darren Chris,” Spencer said

     “My favorite white guy,” Kiana joked.

     “Hey bro, I thought we established that was me!” Spencer said in outrage. 

     “You will be if you go and talk to (Y/n),” she finished. 

     “I will not be manipulated,” you heard him say, and you stifled another chuckle. 

     “No, but you will be shoved,” Kiana said.

     “Wait what?” Spencer got out, before you heard a scuffing sound.

     You turned around just as Kiana pushed Spencer and suddenly he was right before you. 

     “Hey,” he said, looking uncomfortable, shooting a glare behind him at Kiana. “I heard there was a meet and greet?”

     You smiled. “You just missed it, actually.” 

     “Damn, next year then,” he said.

     “I suppose I could make an exception,” you teased. “I wouldn’t want to be the one to take away anyone’s Favorite White Guy title.”

     Spencer winced. “How much of that conversation did you hear?”

     “What conversation?” You winked at him. 

     “I can’t remember,” Spencer said, smiling as he rubbed a hand along the side of his face.

     You were both silent for a moment.

     “So,” Spencer started, breaking it. “I would tell you that I love watching your content—until a very reasonable hour of the night, might I add—but you kind of already know that. And I bet you’ve already been told that by hundreds of people today.”

     “Not by anyone nearly as cute though,” you replied, before leaning in to mock-whisper. “And I don’t mind hearing it again.”

     “Also,” you continued. “I could say the same to you. I love Smosh—I’ve watched your channel for years. You guys are all so talented.”

     “Really? No way,” Spencer smiled. “You watch Smosh?”

     “Really,” you smiled back. “I did know who you were before the Shayne Guesses video, you know.”

     “Don’t remind me,” Spencer said, shaking his head.

     “I thought it was sweet,” you told him, laughing. “And if that video had never happened, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

     “Or at Buca Di Beppo tonight at 8?” Spencer said, with trepidation.

     “Or that,” you agreed, nodding. “Are you asking me out on a date, Spencer Agnew?” 

     You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. 

     “I guess I am,” he said. “Unless you’re going to slap me, in which case no.”

     “Only if the date goes badly,” you teased. “And if you don’t make 100,000 more accounts to subscribe to my channel with.”

     Spencer grinned. “Done. And I can introduce you to the rest of the gang.”

     “Are they good with me crashing your guys’ dinner?” You asked. You couldn’t believe you were going to meet the members of Smosh.

     You couldn’t believe you were going on a date with Spencer. 

     “Oh, they already know about it. They’re listening to every word of our conversation right now.” Spencer pointed a thumb behind him and you looked over his shoulder to see all of the Smosh cast watching you.

     They all waved at you.

     “Hey girl hey!” Kiana called to you, smirking at Spencer. 

     You waved back at them, grinning. 

     “Well, I don’t want to keep you from meet-and-greet-ing any longer,” you said, turning back to Spencer.

     “Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” Spencer joked, gesturing between the two of you.

     “Doesn’t count,” you said back. “Technically we’ve already met on the internet.”

     “Yeah, well, you’re much prettier in person,” Spencer said, as he backed up towards the rest of the Smosh cast.

     “Well then,” you said, only a little bit breathless. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

     “Unless I see you on the internet first,” Spencer said, turning around and walking away. 

     You couldn’t wait. Not only did you have your date with Spencer to look forward to, you also had the rest of VidCon to get to know Spencer better and hopefully hang out with him before all this was over. 

     You turned to leave as well, walking in the opposite direction of Spencer as you tried to think where you had to be next. It was hard to focus when all your thoughts were occupied by something else. Someone else.

     You were almost out of earshot when you heard Kiana’s voice, carrying over the crowds of people.

     “Get over here, loser. I’ll take my thanks in the form of cash and/or worsted weight yarn.”

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yourusername

liked by spennser, co_mill, and 41,813 others

yourusername: had the best time with spennser at vidcon ‘24 ❣️

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kianaparker: ok but i’m glowing (also yw 💁🏾‍♀️)

⤷ liked by yourusername

spennser: new phone who dis?

yourusername: definitely not your gf ⤷ liked by spennser materialgorl199: GF?!? AHHHHH heatherscandystore: wait they’re together? I’m so happy for them ily both sm 🤭

jessicarabbitsimp: I KNEW IT WAIT 😭

thirdcutestsmoshboy: i met both of them there and they were so sweet

ynislife: so are they dating???

angelagiovanagiarratana: GUYS 🥹

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you guys enjoyed this little bit of a different format. i had sm fun writing this. check out my other spencer fics if u want more like this 🎀

[kisseobie]

day 5 of piwontober 24’ ✶ “wine pon you”

prompt: food play/biting/marks/drunk sex with hwang intak

pairings: intak x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni), sex under the influence, dubious consent

word count: 5.1k

tags: alcohol use (only intak is drunk), clubbing, biting and marking, drunk sex, one night stand, stripper reader, smoking, infatuation, brief mentions of vomit, intak is whipped as hell lmaoo, rizztak 🙈, giggly sex, no attachment, pov switches, blowjob, vaginal penetration

a/n: hi everyone <3 i wasn’t expecting to take this prompt so i’m sorry if this sucks but hehe first kisseobie piwontober 24’ fic 💟 loveeeee me some sleazy intak so i hope u all enjoy! i didn’t use the foodplay prompt btw lol not my thing unfortunately..

sorry for posting so late by the way! :( i hope the unusually long length makes up for it :3

full piwontober 24’ masterlist here ❤︎ ིུ͠*:·.

buzzed bodies and a powdery scent of pungent perfume, it’s nothing out of the ordinary for intak, comforting even. he wouldn’t necessarily call himself addicted, but his feet drag him down a couple of blocks to the same strip joint more often than the man would like to admit. the establishment isn’t stellar in any means, nothing to write home about. the selections of liquor are not to intak’s liking, the rainbow lights flicker in a manner that’s almost nauseating, and the dj can’t bump a track for shit.

intak knows that an intense infatuation with a certain stripper isn’t necessarily something applaudable, and if anything, his roommate jiung would laugh his ass off at the revelation, but he can’t find it in himself to really care. not when you take the stage, chunky heels clacking against the shiny floor, bedazzled top hit with a beam of white light, cascading diamond-like forms across the walls. intak watches your every twist and turn so intensely, like the show was specifically crafted for his eyes only, a personal love letter addressed to hwang intak—signed xoxo, y/n.

intak watches as you slide effortlessly against the metal pole, the cool rod leaving a trail of goosebumps on the surface of your smooth skin. he likes that about you, that despite the fact that you’re just a mere fantasy for him, you’re human—something real. it presents itself in different ways, he’s been coming here long enough to notice the way your muscles sometimes tremble in exertion during a particularly difficult move, or how you subtly tuck away stray pieces of pretty hair that stick to the gloss on your lips. he notices it all. he wonders if you notice him too.

your dance routine ends and intak finds himself plopped on a lonely barstool, downing some bottom shelf bourbon—nothing out of his typical routine here, really. he can feel the blaring music, the thumping of the beat coursing through his entire being, only aided by the incessant hollers of drunk partygoers. it however, does nothing to distract his thoughts from you—pretty skin, pretty hair, pretty teeth, and a nice set of tits too. the man feels like a pervert, coming to the same shit club every weekend to get a glimpse of his sweetheart, the dreamy girl that most likely doesn’t give a damn about him. intak sighs, and then takes another swig.

“pretty boy is here again. sat right up at the front, probably trying to take a sniff at your panties or somethin’.”

“stop that. he seems nice.” you shoot back, but only snickers from the girls in the locker room follow. they think you’ve got some weird situationship going with the guy, you suppose.

you were aware of the mystery boy of course, he watched your every show without fail, drank his bodyweight at the bar, and ended the night by clumsily wobbling out of the club, only to come back the next weekend and follow the same tired routine. he is a pretty boy, you’ll give him that. dark eyes that twinkle ever so slightly, a lopsided grin permanently etched on his face when he watches you dance, lean body that accentuates his height well.

despite the fact that he’s charming, you don’t miss the way he adjusts his pants when you’re on stage, or how he sometimes leaves to the bathroom after you’ve finished, presumably to relieve the obvious tent in his pants when you roll your hips against the pole just right. he’s just another sleaze, a pretty one maybe, but a sleaze nonetheless. you sure aren’t fooled, even if his dedication to your performances is intriguing.

“hey y/n, if you don’t want him, i’ll take him. he looks pent up, the poor guy.” your coworker jokes, but you pay no mind to the teasing. you have a show to put on, whether the pretty boy watches or not.

meaningless conversation ends and you situate yourself on top of the dirty dressing room bench, slipping on your heels, a dazzling crimson red and eight inches tall. opting for no tights today, you examine how the shoe emphasizes the length of your shaved legs—in other words, you know you’re gonna make a few extra tips tonight. your mouth waters at the thought of buying yourself a nice breakfast in the morning, maybe a stack of blueberry pancakes with extra whipped cream?

after some waiting backstage, the club’s owner, a pudgy old man you’ve never quite gotten along with, announces your name with a cheesy slogan. a few men hoot and holler, clearly ready to eye you down like a fresh piece of meat for their tasting. the lights dim as the velvet cheetah-printed drapes part to reveal you in all your glory, dressed to the nines, even if the clothing you adorn is sparse. the music cues, and you walk, letting the crowd drink you in like a tall glass of wine. as you strut to the beat with a shimmery smile, you unconsciously scan the audience, eyes honing in on one man in particular. he’s here, of course he is, staring at you as if you hung the stars for him, and you might as well have, judging from the gobsmacked look on his face. you shoot him a sly wink before turning to the pole, gyrating your hips against the metal before latching your legs onto the very material. it’s exhilarating as it is exhausting.

a few dozen twists and turns on the rod later, your practiced routine finally comes to a close. the cheers are loud, they always are. you collect tips from wrinkly hands, blowing kisses and shooting winks at all sorts of men—married, recently divorced, rich, poor—it doesn’t matter to you, you aren’t one to judge. when you’re done collecting dollar bills and desperate notes with numbers scribbled across, your vision catches pretty boy making his way to the bar, greeting theo, the bartender always on night duty, like an old time friend.

“you come here often?” intak teases at taeyang, who stares back at him with his arms crossed, visibly unamused. the man gives it to intak straight, an admirable quality for sure, though some may call him too blunt for his own good. your show ended a few hours ago, and intak’s been perched on this very stool, drinking glass after glass, hoping it’ll clear his thoughts that seem to only focus on you.

“don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink? you look like shit. if you puke on my countertop you’re cleaning that shit up yourself.” theo scolds, but there’s no malice in his tone, a little bit of disinterest and concern maybe, but no malice. intak lazily raises his hand in the air with his head down, a nonverbal way of saying “i know, i’m gonna get going.” that taeyang can read every time with ease. the man with shoulder-length hair audibly sighs.

“she’s nothing but a fantasy man, let it go. you come here every weekend just to sit and watch a girl out of your reach. it’s getting pathetic.”

intak winces at the harsh words, but smiles nonetheless. he gets up with some effort and pulls a few crinkled twenties out of his pocket, slapping them on the table in between them with a, “always a pleasure talking to you, theo”. taeyang scoffs, grabbing the bills to place them in the register. “yeah yeah, get home safe.”

intak stumbles out of the stuffy club with a headache, already dreading the inevitable hangover he’ll have in the morning. he waves his arm around aimlessly, hoping to signal a taxi, eyes wandering around the street in boredom until they catch onto a familiar figure sat on the hood of a car. you’re wearing a fuzzy long coat, shielding you from the cold of the night as you cup your hand around a lighter. intak watches you take a deep drag from a lit cigarette, blowing the swirly smoke into the autumn air with an indifferent expression on your face. your hair blows in the wind, but you pay no mind to it, seemingly lost in thought. intak rubs at his eyes with closed fists to be sure you aren’t a figment of his imagination—he’s never seen you away from the limited space of the stage.

before he can talk himself out of it, the boy crosses the street, hands in his pockets as he takes slow, hesitant steps towards you. you’re even prettier like this, intak thinks, not faking a smile for some fast cash, wrapped up in a big coat that makes you look so incredibly small, scrolling on your outdated phone with sleepy eyes. he’s never seen someone so beautiful.

“hey.” are his first words directed at you, a little lame but they grab your attention nonetheless. you jump at his voice, clearly not expecting to entertain a conversation this late at night. intak waits awkwardly as you scan him from head to toe, a hint of what looks like recognization in your eyes. you give him a tight lipped smile, obviously nervous because of the sudden encounter. he can’t blame you, he supposes, not when you’re in this line of work. he probably isn’t the first man to approach you, and most definitely not the last either.

“hi?” is how you answer, hesitant but oh so curious. he’s always been a wallflower from what you know, watching from a distance but never one to approach. the change in routine is certainly sparking your interest, and you wait with bated breath for him to come clean, to reveal his true intentions towards you, good or bad.

“i’ve seen you dance a few times. you’re really good.” intak sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck all shy, as if he hadn’t watched you dry hump the floor half naked earlier. his timidness is frankly a bit refreshing, usually an attendee of one of your shows would have tried to get in your pants by now.

“thank you. i’ve seen you in the crowd, y’know. you never tip me, so i can’t be all that good, can i?” you tease, but the question does hold some truth in it. he hasn’t tipped you a single dollar since stepping in the club for the first time, another useless observation of yours.

“sorry.” he blurts out, cheeks red with embarrassment, like a kid who got caught stealing out of the family cookie jar. you hold back a snort at his flustered expression, you were merely teasing the boy. no hard feelings. “it’s all good. a bit curious as to why you come to see me every weekend though. or maybe you’re just here for the drinks, who knows.”

intak laughs at that. “when all the club supplies is whiteclaws and cheap bourbon? i could get better drinks at the supermarket.”

“well you’re right about that,” y/n affirms with a giggle. “so then, what is it? what draws you here every weekend, pretty boy?” you know the answer, but you’d like to hear it straight from the source. it’s more fun that way.

intak sighs, and then reaches his arm out to shake hands, to which you raise an eyebrow, but accept the kind embrace anyways. his hands are warm, a bit sweaty too. he sports no rings, and his fingers are a bit calloused, it makes you wonder what the guy does for work—welding, maybe?

“i’m intak.” a beat passes. you smile, all teeth and gums, and shake his hand in return.

“y/n. it’s nice to meet you, intak.”

intak’s room is warm, a welcomed contrast to the depressing weather outside. not the cleanest living space, with socks hanging from drawers and far too many lopsided posters pasted onto his walls, but strangely enough, it’s comforting. before now, hwang intak to you was always a man of great mystery, but his cluttered apartment humanizes him. there are a few framed photos propped up on his messy desk, old ones, showcasing intak as a young boy, smiley as ever with his arms draped over various shoulders of people you don’t quite recognize. he’s got some little notes written on the glass frames as well, one in particular catching your eye, a scribbled “my first drink EVER! it tasted like shit!!”. it makes you smile, similar to how the sight of an excited puppy playing fetch would.

as you snoop around intak’s bedroom, your thoughts start to wander to earlier tonight, when you took the stage and locked eyes with the man whose very space you’re currently occupying. his legs spread, chest puffed, jaw slack as he watched you perform with a needy look on his face, practically eye-fucking you across the dim room. it should have disgusted you, it definitely did with every other man who saw you as a mere object of their perverted desires, a sex symbol that they couldn’t live without. there was something different about the boy though, something that made you crave a single night with him. it’s why you accepted his offer to come over to his place with little to no deliberation, despite you swearing to yourself countless of times in the past that you’d never let a random man take you home.

intak’s currently in his bathroom, hyping himself up in front of his mirror as best as he can, fearful that he’ll screw this up and scare you away forever. he can be a bit clingy when intoxicated, sometimes sappy too—a fact that jiung can attest to. the boy would be absolutely mortified if his drunk tendencies landed him on the club’s hefty blacklist, so he takes a deep breath and gives himself an internal pep talk to loosen up: “intak, you’ve got this man. she wouldn’t have taken your offer to come over if she thought you were a weirdo. get back in there, bro.”

intak places a final kiss onto his flexed bicep as good luck, then cringes at himself before taking a deep inhale, brows furrowed in concentration. he walks out of the bathroom and opens his bedroom door, gasping aloud at the delicious sight he’s met with. you’re not wearing your coat anymore, nor your dancing heels, left very naked besides the crimson panties you wore for your earlier performance. your draped over his bed, leaning across the width of the mattress, supporting your weight with one hand planted firmly on intak’s bed, the other raised up to your line of sight as you examine your coffin nails before you take notice of intak’s presence. intak resists slapping himself across the face, not wanting to seem like even more of an idiot after you teased him just an hour ago for never tipping you during your shows. instead, he just stands and stares, gobsmacked at the view, you sat atop of his bed, perky tits out, nipples hard and waiting for his attention.

“you gonna stand there all night or..” is all you can manage to get out before the man takes fast strides towards you and pulls you into a desperate kiss. you moan into his mouth, tongue swiping against his, tasting nothing but bourbon and musk, the flavor provoking a throbbing heat to your core. his dominance seeped into the hot kiss, presenting itself in the way he grabbed at your cheeks roughly, how his tongue shoved itself in your mouth so sloppily, how his lips travelled to the nape of your neck, leaving bite marks in their wake. he was experienced for sure, and thank god for it, because the makeout sesh alone had your typically level-head clouded with yearning and lust.

without proper warning, intak’s calloused hands travelled to your boobs, the rough contact against your soft skin making you mewl. he groped at the flesh with eagerness, replacing his left hand with his tongue as he circled your bud with the wet muscle, flicking it with a deep groan. his mouth latched onto your left tit, suctioning the area with just the right amount of pressure. you let your hand slip into the tufts of his jet black hair, tugging at the strands every time intak bit at your skin. the boy maneuvered his head to give the same attention to your right boob, but not without replacing the left with his hand, his own spit thinly coating his palm as he squeezed.

a few minutes passed just like that, with intak worshipping your boobs like an artist intensely dedicated to their craft. the man unlatched his lips from your chest with a loud pop, placing a single kiss on each of your nipples before sitting back and admiring his work. your skin was now littered with red and purple marks, all from intak and none unwelcome. “pretty.” he remarks, staring at your tits like a man starved. the attention has you dripping, pussy weeping for contact, to which you subtly make an attempt at rubbing your thighs together to bring temporary relief to your aching cunt. intak takes notice of this, smirking at you, facial features sporting a knowing look.

“intak, wanna see you please.” you beg, craving to see what the man looks like underneath the thin layer of his clothes. “fuck, yeah, okay,” he responds, his voice breathless—all a result of you, only you. “it’s only fair i give you a show too, right?” he jokes, the lightheartedness soothing any nerves you may have had earlier. “right.” you affirm with a focused expression, before giggling back at him. intak steps a few feet away from his bed, eyes locked on yours as he cheekily pulls off his own coat. his black wife beater follows, giving you the liberty to drool at the view of his sculpted abs. your line of sight travels downwards, to where you can spot a prominent v-line, along with the beginning of a trail of pubic hair—not too long, but still present, not that you mind.

intak starts to tug at his belt buckle, but you’re quick to sit at the edge of the bed, feet tucked snug under your thighs as you replace his hands with your own. you free the boy from the tight constraints of his jeans, leaving him in only his boxer briefs. they’re red in color, almost matching the hue of your own underwear. you can spot the thick outline of his cock, already hard and practically slipping out of his briefs. there’s also a wet patch of precum oozing out of the elastic material, and you can’t stop yourself from drooling at the thought of tasting him.

before you free his girth out of its constraints, you leave a few sloppy kisses and kitten licks right on top of the cloth, his subdued scent and taste overtaking your senses. intak may be the only one under the influence, but you could get drunk just off of this, especially with the way the man bites his lip at your gentle contact, a strangled “fuck..” leaving his lips. you quit your teasing after a few more licks, pulling down intak’s underwear in one swift movement, almost immediately grabbing at his length with a closed fist and pumping at a steady pace. intak’s reaction is immediate, head thrown back with a loud groan, eyes momentarily rolled to the back of his skull as his hips buck upwards into your fist. you’ve barely done anything and the man already seems close to cumming—it’s as cute as it is dirty, the way he melts into your touch, so pliant and oh so desperate.

“y/n, let me fuck your face.” intak pleads, eyes as twinkly as ever. you reply by guiding his mushroom tip into your open mouth, slowly sinking your mouth onto his length as far as you can go. you look up at intak, mouth full of cock and tears threatening to spill from your lined waterline, silently giving the man a go at your throat. he wastes no time in thrusting into the heat, whimpering and swearing at the way you suction your lips. he speeds his hips to set a near animalistic pace, resulting in you spluttering on him as the force of his thrusts hit against the back of your throat. just as you’re about to tap out, pinch at intak’s thick thighs and catch your breath, salty seed slips into your mouth, coating your throat white. you pull off of him to cough and swallow, looking absolutely defiled in front of the man. for some reason, the fact doesn’t bother you one bit, instead, you only wish for him to rough you up some more, to give you his all, even if it’s just for a single night. even if come tomorrow morning, you’ll slip out of his blankets, leaving no signs that you were ever there.

intak hunches over your frame to capture your slick lips into a messy kiss for the nth time tonight. he can taste his ecstasy on your tongue, savoring the flavor far more enthusiastically than he would any drink served at your club. you loop your arms around his broad neck, pulling him closer and closer until you both are pressed flush against each other, with your back, a bit sweaty, meeting the soft fabric of his linen sheets. intak ruts his swollen, sensitive cock against your crotch, still shielded by your panties. despite the barrier of cloth, intak can feel how wet you are—he grins at that, knowing that he’s the one who’s making you all hot and bothered. he feels like he’s on top of the world, with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, occupying his sheets and pleading for his touch.

“jesus babe, you’re soaked. all this for me?” intak muses aloud, obviously proud of himself at affecting you just as much as you’ve affected him. if he wasn’t so worried about first impressions, he’d pump his fist in the air.

“all for you takkie, now help me get rid of these panties already.” you demand, followed by a flirtatious wink that almost makes intak buckle at the knees. the man drops his head to where he has the perfect view of your crimson panties, contrasting beautifully against your shiny skin. red had always been his favorite color, after all. intak mimics your tactic on his cock from earlier, placing feather light kisses on your inner thighs, and eventually on your clothed mound, too. you whine at his teasing, but it’s only fair he returns the favor, isn’t it?

your scent is heaven on earth to him. delicate and strong at the same time, flowery musk coating his nostrils—it’s so irrevocably girl. the boy takes his sweet time inhaling your smell, completely ignoring your protests. you beg a little more, and always one to please, intak latches his teeth onto the waistband of the silk, tugging it off with his canines while looking you right in the eye. he’s so sexy like this, you think, in between your thighs, already pussy drunk, but slow enough in his movements so the pair of you can properly savor the moment. you appreciate his pace; it’s rare when a man doesn’t insist on sticking it in as soon as you’ve been undressed. intak is kinder than that.

his teeth continue to tug your panties down the length of your legs, until they slip off completely, leaving you completely bare are vulnerable. intak sweetly folds your panties and places them at the edge of the bed, knowing that they must have costed you a pretty penny, before shifting his unwavering attention to your sopping cunt. he stares for a bit, making you a bit shy to the point where you start to close up your legs, but intak is faster, prying them open with force. the dominance that he now exudes is salivating, and you wait, curious as to what his next move will be.

“pretty face, pretty hair, pretty tits, pretty pussy. how are you real?” intak questions you, but his deep eyes are still glued to your cunt, throbbing and calling out for his touch. light and gentle or hard and rough, it doesn’t matter anymore. you just want him, willing to take anything he’ll give you with obedience and a smile. it’s been too long since you’ve been worshipped like a goddess, rather than painted as prey for predator.

instead of intak touching you where you need him most, he leaves scattered bites across the skin of your inner thighs, completely neglecting your cunny to mark you instead. in reality, intak knows that no amount of biting will make you his, and he’ll be back at the club next weekend, watching you perform once more with a glass of bourbon in hand. the realization sends a pang of hurt to his heart, but he bandaids the wound by showing you a good time—a great time, even. it’s all he can do, and do it right he will. so he ignores the ticking of his obnoxious alarm clock, redirecting his focus once more to your cunt.

his digits reach out to explore your pussy, swiping and swirling around the surface in a plethora of ways. intak gauges your reactions to each touch, quickly catching on to what sensations make your legs shake and bottom lip wobble. oh how he’d love to get his mouth on you right now, have you fall apart on his tongue, but his cock throbs as he ruts his hips against his sheets, urging him to slam into your heat as soon as he possibly can. if he doesn’t, he might die this very minute, and so he does. removes his skinny fingers from your puffy bud, stands up and plants his feet onto his carpeted floor, grips onto your thighs to pull your weight to the edge of his bed.

“intak. condom.” you gently remind. as nice as he is, sexy too, you’d much rather protect yourself from some sexually transmitted disease, or worse, an unexpected bundle of joy that you cannot afford to bring into this world. not now, at least, and not with pretty boy intak.

“shit, yeah. sorry, let me get one real quick.” intak responds sheepishly, embarrassed that he’d let his lust take over without taking the proper precautionary steps beforehand. intak walks over to his bedside drawer, pulling out a wrapped piece of latex as fast as he can, clearly desperate to bury himself within your walls as soon as humanely possible. he repositions himself in front of you, cock standing tall, the tip red from the previous attention you gave it. he rips at the foil with haste, almost dropping the condom like a fucking idiot. you don’t let him linger in embarrassment, wrapping your manicured hand around his forearm before gently consoling him with a, “intak, relax. ‘s just me.”

that’s the problem, the fact that it’s you, is what intak thinks, but your words do help him calm down, even if it’s just a bit. he takes a deep breath and slips the rubber onto his length, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort. there’s none, of course, just pure lust, and your ready expression convinces the boy to sheath himself into your tight walls, pushing in inch by inch with little to no resistance—perks of you being so incredibly wet, he guesses.

you both moan at the stretch, the feeling so intense that intak may as well have crashed on top of you. he has half a mind to grip an arm onto the sheets, right next to your head. the position is awfully intimate for a one night stand, but neither of you have time to dwell on it when intak pulls his hips back slightly, only to piston back forward with a level of force you weren’t quite prepared for. the boy is quite literally the definition of pussy drunk, setting a desperate speed from the get-go and tucking his face into the nape of your neck. his lips are right underneath your ear, making it impossible to miss each and every one of his pathetically beautiful noises.

after awhile, intak adjusts the angle of his thrusts just a bit, and you cry out at the way his cock prods at your g-spot with the perfect amount of precision and pressure. “oh! right there, tak!” you moan out, attempting to meet his thrusts by pushing your own hips downwards. you clench around him in a vice grip, embarrassingly close already. it’s the first time a man has been able to draw out so many sounds from you, you’ve never felt so good before. intak nods at you each and every time you gasp aloud, egging on your, and his, inevitable orgasm.

intak breaks eye contact to look downwards, groaning at how your walls suction him in and leave a frothy white rim against the base of his dick. his length is coated with a sheen, certainly your wetness, and it only makes it that much easier for him to thrust into your gummy walls. the room feels about 20 degrees hotter now, with intak’s sweat dripping onto your chest like a leaking water faucet. he can’t smell the powdery perfume and whiteclaw breath from the club anymore, nose just picking up the scent of you—y/n.

a thumb circles your clit in quick motions, the final tipping point sending you to the edge with a pornographic, “fuck!”. your cunt flutters against intak’s girth, your legs tremble and spasm uncontrollably, eyes tearing up once again, no doubt ruining your carefully applied mascara as intak just fucks you through the most intense orgasm of your life. he’s not far behind, only pistoning into you a few dozen more times before unloading his cum into the rubber of the condom.

the pair of you stay silent to catch your breaths, intak still tucked within your cunt as he collects himself. a few minutes later has him pulling out of you with a hiss, cock sensitive from all the exertion. he flops onto the empty space next to you, turning his head to face you, you doing the same. you both giggle, still a bit breathless and so very satisfied.

you almost say something in the heat of the moment, something you’re sure to regret in the morning, but as you turn to look at intak once more, he’s fast asleep. a definite effect of all the drinks he had earlier. you lean over to place a single delicate peck on his cheek, dreading having to leave his side in the morning time, but you couldn’t get attached, not in this line of work. so you tucked yourself away from the boy—cuddling him would make it that much harder to leave him.

morning comes, as it usually does. intak wakes a bit later than usual, sunshine leaking through his thin curtains to shine directly into his eyes. he groans, sits up and stretches his arms real wide to wake himself up faster. as soon as a yawn exits his mouth, the man is hit with an intense headache that prompts him to grip at his forehead in discomfort. the events of the last night are a blur, but his lips remember sloppy kisses, ears remember giggles and whines, cock remembers a fair amount of attention. and then it all comes back to him. y/n.

he turns to his right, but there’s only emptiness beside him. the sheets, however, are crumpled in a way that suggest someone occupied the space not too many hours ago. but it doesn’t matter anyways. one night is all he asked for, and one night he got.

a knock at his wooden door startles intak, and a sleepy jiung enters the room with uncharacteristically hesitant steps. intak watches curiously as the shorter boy seats himself at the edge of his bed. jiung sighs, and then stares as intak with an expression full of pity that he doesn’t need right now. or ever.

“she was here last night, wasn’t she?” jiung asks, and intak can already hear the unwanted lecture that is sure to follow the question.

intak inhales. “yeah,” he chuckles, “she was.”

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @dprvivi @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @jiungsdaisy @asianpenguin04 @lunepoesie @haku-s0ultrain @tkooooop @taehyux @peterm4arker

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

✶

[oneforthemunny]

round and round |boxer!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a snide, joking comment has you and eddie trying something new in the ring to spice things up. a ring girl, announcing each round you and eddie do. horrible fucking descript lol, but based off of this ask from the lovely @belokhvostikova

word count: 6k+

contains: boxer!eddie. mean-ish!eddie?? rough sex, but everything is consensual. idk if it counts as roleplay but i'll tag it just in case. mean, nasty sex lol. fem fingering, grinding, pinvsex, creampie. kinda aftercare? they're mean but it works ok? just filthy fun idk. smut. 18+ minors dni.

“Look at you.” Eddie grinned, arms hanging over the side of the ropes. “Do a spin for me, baby. Let me see the whole thing.” 

You rolled your eyes, pivoting in the tiniest twirl to show off your little outfit; a skimpy skirt that flounced with every step, a too tight top with a plunging neckline. It was a stark contrast to what you normally wore to Eddie’s practices, that is when you actually showed up to his practices. Typically opting for a track suit, maybe jeans if you were feeling especially generous, but this was a different practice today. 

What had started as a joke, a snide sneer of a comment, maybe stemming from jealousy at the way the ring girl looked at Eddie when she strutted away, batting her eyes and giving him a dazzling smile. You weren’t entirely upset at the jab his opponent gave him after that, he’d deserved it. 

“Maybe I should dress like her, hm?” You had sneered that night, grip tightening around his bicep when you passed the same girl after the match. 

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, shaking his head. “For who?” 

“I dunno.” You shrugged, lips pursing, eyes narrowing. “I guess for you. Maybe you’ll actually pay attention to me if I did.” 

Eddie scoffed at you, rolling his eyes so hard the throbbing in his left temple started up again. “Sure.” He pushed the door open to the back of the arena, letting you walk before him. “I don’t pay attention to them, baby. I’m in the middle of a fight.” 

You hummed sarcastically. “I’m sure you don’t.” 

“Maybe if you wore it, I would.” Eddie’s lips curled in a smug smirk that made you want to smack it right off his face. “Definitely would pay attention then.” 

You didn’t realize how serious he was about it until later, in your own home. Bloodied knuckles brushing over your chin, your cheek, swallowing you with kisses, fingers slipping under your nightgown. “Think you really should dress up.” Eddie muttered, steaming kisses trailing down your jaw, nipping at your chin. “Let me take you for a coupla rounds. See if you can take me.” 

Now, you wondered if it was still what he wanted, walking to the small practice ring, blistering under Eddie’s hungry gaze. “You like it?” You smoothed your hand over your tiny skirt. “Short enough?” 

“I don’t know, c’mere, let me get a closer look.” Eddie grinned, pulling the ropes up so you could duck under them. 

You hiked your leg up, turning away from him when you stepped under so he got a full view of your tiny thong underneath. Eddie smirked, swatting at your ass, smug at how you squealed. 

“You look…” Eddie leaned back against the ropes, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes rolled over your frame, taking in every inch of your body, leaving you burning with excited heat under his gaze. “Amazing, baby.” 

“Yeah?” You hummed, pulling your neckline lower, biting back a grin at Eddie’s laugh. “Look like the real thing?” 

“Better.” Eddie nodded. “You ready to go all six rounds?” 

“Six?” You gawked. “You didn’t say six.” 

“You said you wanted me to take it easy on you.” Eddie shrugged. 

“Taking it easy is six?” You lifted a brow. “Can you even last six rounds?” 

Eddie’s tongue rolled over his teeth, biting back a smirk. He wouldn’t snap back, wouldn’t huff and bitch at you when you tried to get him riled up. Oh no, he’d do what he did best, and take it out in the ring. 

“I think you and I both know I can.” Eddie countered cooly, pushing off the ropes. 

You hated the way your knees shook under his gaze, throbbing between your thighs. Eddie picked up the sign behind him. He had found it tucked in a storage closet, the letters fading from age, the perfect prop. 

“Make sure you hold it up high, alright.” Eddie grinned, patting your hip when he passed you. 

You looked over your shoulder, eyes batting sweetly towards him, nestled in the corner or the ring. “You ready?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded. “Ready when you are, baby. Show me your walk.” 

You swallowed the spit pooling in your mouth, shoulders rolling back before you lifted the sign, strutting to the edge and back with a dazzling smile, just like you’d seen the girls do a thousand times before. 

Eddie’s wolf whistle cut through the empty gym, clapping slowly at your finished hip pop, dramatic, a little silly. “How was that?” You asked, passing him the sign. 

“Best I’ve ever seen.” Eddie smirked, tossing the sign out of the way. “Now,” He lined himself up, toe to toe. “You gotta ring the bell.” 

“The bell?” You snorted, looking around. “What bell?” 

“Gotta ring the bell.” Eddie looked at you, down the slope of his nose. A darkness in those brown eyes you adored that had your heart skipping with fear, maybe excitement. 

“What? Like, ding, ding?” You scoffed, your eye roll cut short when Eddie grabbed you, two hands on your waist, spinning you and pulling you flush into his chest. 

You gasped, shocked, stumbling into his hold. “Wait!” Eddie ignored your cry, arm wrapping over yours in a tight grip, pinning you there. His free hand pressed to your lower stomach, right over the top of the skirt. 

You squirmed, feet digging into the ground, body wriggling in Eddie’s grasp. “Told you to stay on your toes.” Eddie hummed. 

“I wasn’t ready.” You snapped, arms wiggling by your sides where Eddie had them trapped. “You’re such a cheater.” 

“Oh? Am I?” Eddie growled, breath hot on your neck. You snarled, wrenching away. “I never told you this was gonna be a fair fight.” His free hand slid down the front of your tiny skirt, stopping just on your mound, pressing gently so you whimpered. “But something tells me you’re not gonna mind.” 

Your scoff was cut off by his hand slipping between your legs, pointer and middle finger pressed to the soft cotton of your panties. You melted into his broad chest, chin tucked to look down the valley of your squished tits. 

The whine you gave when Eddie circled over your clothed clit was music to his ears, electrifying him with a bout of energy. Teeth grazing over the shell of your ear, nibbling just barely, enough to have you squealing, squirming against him though he could feel you soaking his fingers through your panties. 

“C’mon, you’re just gonna give in that easy?” Eddie mocked. “I mean, I knew it’d be easy. Knew you’d be tapping out before long, but I thought you might try a little harder than this.” Fighting words. He knew it, lips pulled tight in a grin. 

Your body burned, hot with fury, with the pleasure he was giving you. Every atom in your body told you to stay, to let him pleasure you, give into ecstasy, but your pride wouldn’t let you. Heels digging into the floor, you pushed against Eddie, away from his hand that fought to keep you down. 

“Ooh, you’re gettin’ mad, hm? That made you mad?” Eddie snickered, grip tightening around you. “Already ready to tap out?” 

“Shut up.” You gritted, swallowing back a whine, body stuttering when his fingers swirled around your clit again. 

“I can already taste victory.” Eddie smirked smugly, fingers pressing into your slick, soaking the cotton of your tiny panties.”How about you?” His breath hot on the shell of your ear. “You want a taste?” 

Eddie lifted his fingers, sticky and soaked in your arousal, an evident string connecting in the middle of the two fingers. You blistered in heat, turning away from his fingers. 

“C’mon, open up for me. Have a little taste.” Eddie cooed, nearly taunting, free hand sneaking up your torso to grab your jaw, hold you in place. 

You whimpered behind a closed mouth, jaw hinged shut, his fingers digging into your cheeks holding you steady. “Open up f’me. Taste yourself. Tell me how good you taste, baby.” 

It was embarrassing, Eddie knew that. Of course he knew that. It was exactly why he teased you like this, because he knew how wet it got you. How badly you tried to fight it even when your body betrayed you, even when the evidence was right in front of you. 

A jerking twist of your body nearly had you getting away. Nearly. 

Eddie’s arms wrapped tighter around your torso, hugging you back into his chest. “Oh, c’mon. You know you gotta be faster than that, baby.” He shook his head at you. 

“Are you seriously going to do this the whole time?” You huffed, nails digging back into his hips. 

Eddie didn’t hiss, didn’t snap at you, bend you over his knee with your hands pinned behind your back to spank you. Instead, he moaned. A breathy groan behind closed lips that shook all the way down his body, vibrated onto your skin, left you aching to your core. 

That fucker. 

“Ugh, seriously, Ed. Just let me go.” You scoffed, wiggling against him, ass purposefully brushing against his crotch. “This isn’t even fun.” 

“Fun for me.” Eddie growled, hips rolling into the fat of your ass. “You’re not having fun?” 

“No.” You snapped. “No, I’m not.” 

Eddie tutted, tongue clicking sympathetically. “Aw, that’s no good, now is it? Can’t have that.” He cooed in that same mocking tone that had you wishing your arms were free so you could smack him. 

His hand moved back down the front of your skirt, sliding under the hem, back to your panties, circling over the same damp spot. Your knees buckled, brain bursting with numbing pleasure. “I’ll make sure it’s fun for you again.” 

Two fingers circling over your clothed clit expertly is how he won that round. You stuttered, squirming, grinding down into his touch until your body shook with pleasure. Your slick still covering Eddie’s fingers, he let you go, stumbling towards the ropes on shaky legs. 

Your chest heaving, you looked back at him with a glassy eyed glare. Eddie held your gaze, firm and commanding, taking his two slick soaked fingers in his mouth with a sigh. You ached at the sight. 

“Missed out.” Eddie hummed, spit clicking around his fingers when he pulled them from his mouth. “Taste damn good, baby.” 

Your lips twisted, gripping the ropes to steady yourself. Eddie shrugged, heavy steps back to his own corner, leaning over to get the next sign. “Go ahead.” He tossed it to you with a flick of his wrist, letting it scutter to the ground of the ring, sliding to your feet. “Next round.” 

“Seriously?” You huffed, lifting a brow. 

“I won that round.” Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“No, I have to- You want me to seriously do the sign every time?” You looked down at the large sign, mocking letters of Round Two. You were regretting agreeing to six. 

“Are you tapping out already?” Eddie lifted a brow, inked arms crossed over his defined chest. “That’s all it took?” 

“No.” You hissed, fiercely, reaching to snatch the sign, hoping Eddie didn’t see the way your thighs trembled when you did. “Just think it’s stupid you want me to do this.” 

“This was your idea, baby.” Eddie scoffed, giving you a pointed glare. 

“Yeah, and you were really excited about it, Munson. Don’t act like you weren’t.” You countered with the same bite in your tone. 

“Of course I was, but it wasn’t my idea.” Eddie shrugged, tongue rolling over his cheek in that same cocky manner that had you steaming with fury. “If it was my idea, I’d have you topless.” 

“Oh?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That right?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie smirked, eyes sliding hungrily down your frame. “Still could be. Go ahead and take that bra off f’me, baby.” 

“No.” You sneered, nose scrunching at the request. “You’re being gross.” 

“Yeah? ‘S alright. I’ll get it off.” Eddie grinned, dark and dimpled. You swallowed down a shudder. “On your mark, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes, putting the sign in your hands and lifting it half heartedly. “Oh, no, no, no. Nuh-uh.” Eddie’s tone was sharp, head shaking from the other side of the ring. “You’re gonna do this right, or we’re not gonna do it at all.” 

The threat in his tone had your spine tingling, straightening at his words. “Now, lift that sign up and do your little walk, or we’ll stop right here.” His arms crossed at you. “That what you want?” 

You huffed, nails digging into the sign before lifting it up high, putting on a fake, overly exaggerated smile and striding towards the middle of the ring. 

Eddie smirked. “Atta girl. Good choice.” He eyed your skirt as you turned back to your corner, petulantly throwing the sign down. 

“Alright, you know what you’re ‘sposed to do now, baby. C’mon, let’s get going.” Eddie jogged, bouncing on his toes, shaking out his arms, really putting on a show for you. 

You fought back a snort of a laugh, crossing your arms instead, still clinging to the ropes. “Ok, I’m ready.” You muttered. 

Eddie’s brows lifted in shock. “No, c’mon, why’re you being like this? Sore fuckin’ loser already? You still have a fighting chance, for now.” 

“You’re being mean, Ed.” You huffed. “This is supposed to be fun.” 

“Mean?” Eddie snorted. “You got to cum. I’m the one stuck with blue balls, baby. I should be the one bitching and moaning.” 

“You’re such a dick. Can you just play nice, for once?” You rolled your eyes, head shaking in annoyance at him. 

“You want me to play nice? Fine, I’ll play nice.” Eddie rolled his eyes right back at you, annoyed with your antics. “Ring the bell, baby. I’ll go easier on you this time.” 

You glared at him, holding him under your gaze for a moment before relenting. “Fine. Ding. Round started.” 

Eddie took a step away from the ropes, but didn’t move, hands over his chest, he waited for you. For you to take careful steps towards him, at a safe distance. Eddie didn’t move, he wouldn’t. He’d play fairer this time, let you have the first move. 

You finally took your chance, stepping toe to toe with him. Your gaze on his, the both of you looking unmovingly at the other, Eddie’s arms still crossed. You hummed in satisfaction, sinking to your knees with a tiny grin, fingers toying with the strings of his shorts. 

Eddie sighed slowly through his nose. He almost felt guilty. You looked so sweet, so smug, lashes batting towards him, fingers hooking to pull his boxers down slowly. Eddie almost gave in, let you have your way. 

Almost. 

“Hey!” You screeched, a hand knotting through your hair, pulling you back when you started to lean forward. “What the fuck, Ed?” You spat, glaring up at him, hands on his wrist. 

“Go ahead.” Eddie smirked, a steel hand holding you in place by your hair. “Go on, baby.” 

You leaned forward barely, your scalp screaming from Eddie’s firm hold. Every tug and pull with your movements had you frustrated. 

“Are you- Are you serious?” You growled, nails digging into his wrist, trying to pry his hand from your scalp. Eddie’s smirk made you even more furious. “You said you’d be nice.” 

“I am.” Eddie answered coolly. 

“You are not.” You sneered around a frustrated huff. “You’re being mean.” 

“Oh, this isn’t mean.” Eddie shook his head, unmoving elsewhere with his grip. “You want me to show you mean?” 

You frowned. “No.” You clicked in annoyance. “I’m trying to suck your dick.” You said bluntly, hoping for even a slight reaction. 

Eddie only laughed, soft, lips tugging in a smile. “So go ahead.” Eddie nodded down to you. “Go on, baby.” 

“I can’t.” You spat, still fighting against his hand. “You know I can’t.” 

“You can’t?” Eddie tilted his head to the side. “C’mon. ‘S right there.” He pushed his growing erection towards you, so close you could almost taste it. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You growled, sinking back on your knees. “Try to suck your dick and you hold me back? What is wrong with you?” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby.” Eddie tsked, sinking down to his knees in a crouch in front of you, his hand releasing its grip just barely. “I’m so mean, aren’t I?” That same mocking tone found its way back into Eddie’s words. You tried to hide the way it infuriated you. 

“Not giving you what you want. What a-” 

You didn’t let him finish his taunt. The second his grip loosened, you took your chance, tearing from his grasp, lunging forward to topple him over, pinning him on the mat. 

Eddie’s head hit the hard floor of the ring with a grunt, your nails digging into his bare shoulders, straddling his stomach. The fluorescent lights illuminated around you, a silver lining around your hair and features. 

“You are an asshole.” Your eyes narrowed, finishing his sentence from before. “A mean, mean asshole.” 

“That right?” Eddie smirked, swallowing thickly. He could feel your heat on his abdomen, the damp spot of your panties teasing him- driving him fucking wild. 

“Mmhm.” You nodded, grinning triumphantly. “And I’m not rewarding you for that.” 

“Oh?” Eddie laughed, brows raising amusingly. “You’re not?” 

You shook your head. “No, because you haven’t been very nice.” You tilted your head to the side. “I don’t think you deserve for me to suck your dick.” 

Eddie’s lips rolled, fighting back a smirk. You were so confident, so cocky, it was adorable. Adorable that you really thought you had him pinned. You should know better, know not to leave his hands free, but he’d let you continue your smugness if only for his own pleasure. 

You scooted back, shimmying down until your core was over Eddie’s throbbing bulge, grinding down over it. 

“Oh, shit,” Eddie groaned, head tipping back onto the floor of the ring when you started to grind slowly, painfully slow. Hips rocking in a circle, expertly rubbing him just the right way with every roll of your hips. 

You leaned your weight into your hands, pressing down on Eddie’s shoulders, palms digging into the etchings of skin- a dagger with a heart under your left, a flaming skull in the right. Under the inked skin, you could see Eddie’s own pale flesh tinging with a pink flush. 

“That’s it.” The sigh whistled through Eddie’s teeth like a hiss. He clenched his hands, fought to keep them from reaching up, sinking into your hips. 

“You like that?” You grin wickedly down at Eddie, hovering over him, hips rocking slowly. Enough that you know he’s enjoying it, you can feel every excited twitch from him under your hold. 

“Mmm.” Eddie nearly whimpers. “Fuck, you know I do. Feel good, baby.” 

“See? This is how you play nice.” You grin, leaning forward, catching his bottom lip between your teeth lightly, pulling back so you could see the inked letters- your initials on the inside in a gothic font. He’d gotten it on a rare drunken night in Los Angeles. You told him not to, told him it was stupid, but held his hand sweetly while the tattoo artist carved it into his skin. 

“Shit, baby, you-you gotta stop.” Eddie’s teeth clenched, vein on his neck bulging at the sensation. You continued your pace, nails digging into his skin. “Babe, seriously, I’m gonna fuckin’ bust if you keep this up.” 

“Oh?” You quipped, brow raising dramatically. “Is this a forfeit?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, scoff catching in his throat when you pressed your core further into his length, hips swiveling in a circle. Eddie swallowed a groan, jaw flexing under you. “Not a forfeit.” He shook his head. “But you…you- oh fuck me- you win this round.” 

“What’s that?” You tilted your head to his, mockingly. He fought the urge to flip you over, pin your hands behind your back and make a mess of you. Teach you a lesson. 

“You win.” Eddie growled, eyes dark and daring at you. “This round.” He added when your hips finally slowed. 

Your arousals mixing through the fabric left you and Eddie sporting matching wet spots on your panties and on his shorts. Eddie tracked you, chest heaving in a slow, deep pace through hooded eyes. 

A smug pep returned to your step, hips swaying back to your corner, bending over dramatically so Eddie could get a full view of your ass when you grabbed the third sign. His cock throbbed at the sight, swallowing down the urge to take you right there, over the ropes. 

Instead he stood, palming himself for a moment to release some of the ache in his cock, walking back to his own corner of the ring. You watched him, lips rolling in a triumphant smile. 

“We’re tied, Munson.” Your nails tapped on the sign. 

“For now.” Eddie nodded back coolly, leaning back onto his corner, arms draping over the side of the ropes. “Go ahead.” 

You lifted the sign high, eyes on him in a narrowed glare- challenging. Strutting into the middle, you spun on your heel, making sure to snap your hips with every step. You knew Eddie was watching you, eyes glued to your ass, your legs, mouth salivating at the sight. He wouldn’t last long, wouldn’t be able to resist, he was still just a man, afterall. 

“Are you ready?” Eddie asked, arms crossed over his chest, flexing. You fought an eye roll. 

“Are you?” You countered, brow lifted at him. 

Eddie snorted lightly, a puff of air falling from his nose. “I’m ready.” He nodded. “Ring that bell, baby.” 

“Ding.” You deadpanned, taking a small, creeping step from the ropes. 

Eddie took a wide step towards you, a chess match, every step you’d take he’d challenge. You were growing frustrated, shoulders rising and falling sharply, swallowing back huffs, hands raised slightly in front of you to keep him away, keep yourself at a distance. 

Adorable, Eddie thought. 

He didn’t look, didn’t give himself away or even give you a warning. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Eddie had your wrists in his hands, pulling them behind your back. 

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, fighting in his grasp, Eddie walking you towards the ropes. His sneaker propped on the bottom rope, grabbing your hands in his right, pushing the middle rope up while he dropped to his free knee. 

“No, no, Eddie.” You dug your heels into the ground, pushing back when he tried to haul you over his knee. “Eddie, don’t you fucking dare. I’m serious.” 

“Don’t what?” Eddie hummed, tugging you forward, your abdomen pressed over his thigh. 

“Eddie.” You hissed, cheeks burning with fury. “We are not playing like this tonight.” 

“What do you mean, babe?” You could practically hear Eddie’s smug smirk, content and happy that he was embarrassing you. “What do you think I’m gonna do?” His free hand brushed over the seat of your skirt, squeezing the fat of your right cheek. 

You huffed, wiggling and fighting to get out of his grip, his hand on the small of your back kept you in place. “Eddie, this is so not fucking funny. You better not.” You growled. “I did not say you could.” 

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dramatically. “Oh, you think I’m going to spank you?” Your body burned at the word, rushing with shamed excitement the same way you always did, thighs pressing together. 

“‘M not gonna spank you, baby, don’t worry.” Eddie smirked, patting the seat of your skirt lightly. “But I don’t know why you get so embarrassed to say it, baby. You certainly enjoy it when I spank you.” 

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You sneered, wrists jerking in his firm grasp. 

“Mm, not yet, baby. Have some patience, we'll get there.” Eddie muttered, fingers tracing the edge of your panties, fingers slipping inside. 

You tried to fight the shudder that tore through your nervous system, clouded your veins with pleasure when Eddie’s calloused fingertips slipped through your folds, circling, teasing your sopping hole. 

“You couldn’t do this without holding me like this?” You rolled your eyes, swallowing back a whine. “Seriously, Eddie, this is so uncomfort- oh shi-it.” A strangled gasp tore from your chest when Eddie pushed a finger in, curling expertly, a slow pump inside of you. 

“Uncomfortable?” Eddie lifted a brow, shaking his head slowly. “Just relax and it won’t be. C’mon, you’re not gonna win this round anyways. Just let me take care of you.” 

You’d blame it on your brain, still hazy from your earlier orgasm, that had to be the reason you didn’t fight him. The reason you didn’t snap at him, try to kick him, why you just submitted under his touch. Let him make you feel good, until you were squirming in his hold, toes curling at your fast approaching orgasm until it consumed you. Left you whining, body spasming with aftershocks of pleasure. 

“Hmm, who’s the winner of this round?” Eddie asked, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt, wiping your arousal on your ass, painting the soft skin with your sticky release. 

You didn’t answer, unsure if you could even if you wanted to. “Ooh, don’t be like that, baby.” Eddie pulled you up slowly, letting you settle onto his thigh, holding you to his chest. 

You rubbed your wrist, glaring at him though it was softened by the dazed, glowy look in your eyes. Eddie’s hand rubbed over your hip, lips pressing to your temple sweetly, much softer now. 

“You alright?” Eddie muttered, pushing the hair out of his view so he could see your face fully. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, rubbing your wrist gently, staring ahead. 

“You sure?” Eddie pressed, pulling back to look at you fully. 

Your head lolled to the side, a pout and scowl all at once- your signature look, Eddie always teased you about that. “My arms hurt.” Your brows furrow at him. “I can’t stand it when you do that. Your hands are so sweaty, Rubbed my wrists raw.” Your nose crinkles in disgust, just enough to have Eddie grinning. 

“Could’ve tapped out.” Eddie hums, nose nuzzling against the soft skin of your cheek. “Still can. Call it quits. Make me the winner.” 

You sighed, leaning back into his coaxing touch. “Where’s the fun in that?” You muttered, eyes fluttering open, met with Eddie’s wolfish grin. That was exactly why he loved you, head over heels even if he was reluctant to admit it. 

“Fine.” Eddie’s tongue ran over his teeth. “But I won that round.” 

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes, pushing off his thigh, wobbling slightly at the burn in your calves, thighs. “Two to one.” 

Eddie stood with a silent groan, stretching his leg. “Go get your sign.” He nodded towards the corner. 

You scoffed lightly. “You’re really committed to this?” 

“Yeah. I don’t half ass things, sweetheart, you should know that.” Eddie strode back to his corner. “Round four.” 

“I know.” You click, the fight returning back to your tone, dripping with annoyance. It made Eddie’s hands buzz, jittery with excitement. 

It was the same routine, holding the sign up with burning limbs, still recovering from being held into place. A strut that was more like a step now, a little shaky, though you tried to mask it. Eddie still tracked you, arms crossed, head tilted high and cocky, though his eyes were clouded with a darkness that made your senses jolt alive. 

“Ok,” You flung the sign to the side, shoulders rolling back. “I’m ready.” 

“That the bell?” 

“That’s the bell.” You nodded, pushing off the ropes slowly.

Eddie met you at the middle of the ring, the two of you circling around the other, prowling, waiting for the other to make the first move. You reached out for Eddie, hoping to pounce on him like before. He expected it this time, catching you by your waist. A hand cradled behind your head, pulling you down onto the ring with a huff, hand protecting the collide of the mat with your head. 

“Ow,” You hissed through gritted teeth at the sudden jostling.

“That didn’t hurt.” Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically. He knew it didn’t, he knew what you sounded like when you were hurt- he knew all your sounds, all your looks, including the one you were giving him. A glassy eyed glare, tired and ready to submit, ready to get what you wanted. 

“You’re being so rough today.” You rolled your eyes. “This is supposed to be fun.” 

“You’re not having fun?” Eddie huffed, straddling your hips, fingers teasing the edge of your panties, skirt flipped over your midsection. “C’mon, you know you’re having fun.” Eddie grinned. 

“Can we call it? Can you just fuck me?” You blinked at him, unamused. That same demanding look, brows pinched, furrowed in a defiant, demanding frown that had Eddie’s cock twitching behind the nylon material of his shorts. 

“Oh? What’s this? Thought I would be the one who couldn’t last?” Eddie snickered, mean and teasing, accompanied with a dimple grin that resembled more of a sneer. Your lips twitched in a snarl. His fingers curled, pulling around the tiny band of your panties. 

“You’re just being annoying now.” You roll your eyes, hips lifting so he could tug your panties off. “Just fuck me now. I know you want to.” Your hips raised again, bare crotch rubbing against his clothed one. 

“Hm, so I’m the winner? You sure? We still have, what? Three more rounds? Anyone’s game, baby.” Eddie balled your panties in his hand, fist closing around on the skimpy material. 

“Eddie, just stop.” You hated how whiney your tone was. “Just fuck me already.” 

“Nuh-uh-uh, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “Gotta announce my victory. C’mon.” He patted your thigh sweetly. 

“Eddie,” You groaned, the heel of your palms pressing to your eyes in frustration. He loved doing this to you, just fucking with you. Getting your head spinning, thoughts so bleary and distorted until you were seething with exasperation and desperation. 

“I’ll do it after, ok? You can have your little victory lap after. Just-Just please.” It hardly sounded nice, sweet and begging like Eddie would normally have you ask. On your knees, usually,  lip jutted, broken into submission for him, forced to use a sweet tone that was foreign to the both of you to persuade him to give in to you. 

“How do I know you’re not tricking me, hm? Fighting dirty so you get the win?” Eddie looked down the slope of his nose at you, eyes dark and borning, pinning you to the mat. You knew by the way his chest was boasting, puffing out in smug satisfaction, that he was enjoying this. Enjoying having you like this. 

“Do you really think that’s what I’m doing?” Your tone clipped, filled with venomous annoyance. “Quit being stupid and fuck me, or I’ll find someone who will.” 

Eddie’s smug demeanor dropped, eyes narrowed down at you. His jaw rolled, teeth sucking in irritation. A sore spot, you knew it. You knew how possessive Eddie was of you. You’d experienced it first hand at a pre-match press conference when Boudouani made a snide comment to Eddie, taunting him about you. Your dress you were wearing, black and short, something about how he wanted to take it off. You didn’t hear the whole thing, Eddie had lunged over the podium at him, it took his entire team to hold him back. Take it out in the ring, and so he had, delivering a solid punch to the other’s jaw, a perfect knock-out in the fifth round. 

“Oh, it’s like that? You’re gonna be like that?” Eddie snarled through a still tight jaw. 

You stayed quiet, a little unsure as you tracked him. He’d pushed you, frazzled you past the point of decency. 

Eddie shoved his shorts down, cock springing free, dangling in front of you nearly tauntingly. You would’ve sucked him off, crawled to him and took him down your throat sweetly as some sort of apology. Eddie grabbed your ankles before you could, tugging them up as he sank to his knees, your legs over his shoulders, back sliding in a stuttered friction from the mat towards him. 

“You want someone else?” Eddie sneered, one hand on your thigh, the other pumping his length but his eyes stayed on yours, locked into your gaze fiercely. “That what you want?” You bit back a moan, the head of his cock sliding over your folds, teasing you. 

“Hmm?” Eddie’s fingertips dug into your thigh, hard enough to have you whining. “If you want someone else, you go get ‘em, baby.” 

“I don’t.” Your voice was strangled, toes curling. You were close, so fucking close to getting what you wanted. “You just… You were getting on my nerves-” 

“-Oh? And you threw a little bitch fit because I was teasing you?” Eddie snorted furiously, the tip of his cock lining with your entrance. “You fucking know better.” 

You squirmed under his gaze, his tone soaked with chastisement that made you feel petulant and small. Your lips parted, a huffy retort on the tip of your tongue cut short by Eddie’s expert timing, cock pushing into you, filling you with a slow roll of his hips. 

“You think this shit’s funny?” Eddie’s free hand went to your other thigh, holding you steady to him, hips rocking slowly at first. He wanted to feel you, needed to, even if he was being hard with you. “How'd you like it if I said that? If I talked about fucking one of those ring girls.” 

“I’d think you were serious.” You sneered, swallowing back a moan, clenching to still your hips, so Eddie could feel you squeezing around him. “Already have me dressing up as one. Maybe you do-” 

“-Shut up.” Eddie grunted, pulling back, hips snapping to the fat of your thighs and ass with a sharp jab. “Just shut up, alright? I’m done hearing your fucking mouth. Ruinin’ shit.” 

“You’re getting a-awfully defensive.” You swallow back a whimper at his punishing pace. Punctuated and punishing, leaving you breathless and dizzy at the same time. 

“You’re awfully pissing me off.” Eddie gritted through clenched teeth, never breaking rhythm. You were so close already, too sensitive from before. “Don’t ruin this, alright? You’re getting what you fuckin’ want.” 

And you were. You finally were. Hands by your head, body lifted to Eddie could fuck into you at a brutal pace. Still, it made you drool, every punch of his cock to your cervix. Nails digging into your closed palms, toes curling, calves flexing against Eddie’s shoulder when his hand dropped down to circle your clit, pushing you right over that edge of pleasure. 

He had you flipped before your vision had even cleared. The fluorescents collidescoped with the beams and Eddie’s curls, until you found your cheek pressed to the floor of the mat. Normally you’d screech, push off the floor and bitch Eddie out for pressing you into the filthy mat. It didn’t even register in your foggy mind this time, letting him pin your hands behind your back, continuing his fastened pace. 

“One more round.” Eddie gritted, swallowing back a moan, the muted slap of his balls hitting your cunt, hips to the fat of your ass. “One more round and I win.” 

“You already won.” You muttered, drool pooling out of the corner of your mouth, body quivering with sensitivities. 

“What’s that?” Eddie’s abs clenched, a ghosting of a moan with his exhale. “C’mon, you were so loud earlier.” 

“You-” You whimpered, a shiver spilling down your spine. “You already won, Ed. You’re the winner.” 

Eddie swallowed, hips stuttering as his own orgasm washed over him. Your hushed, sweet tone, the words falling from your lips- music to his fucking ears. 

Eddie released your wrists, placing them beside you, kissing up your spine softly. You were sure your wrists would be bruised, raw at the very least, from before and now. Eddie’s own hands rubbed your back softly, still buried deep inside of you. Softer now, all of him, all of you too. 

The pull out was slow, Eddie using his shorts to wipe off his release that fell onto the mat. You managed to stand on shaky legs, clinging to his arm as he helped you. 

“I’m not taking a shower here. I didn’t bring shoes for that shower.” You muttered, still spacey but that edge hinting in your tone, Eddie grinned at it. 

“Hey, hold on.” Eddie grabbed your arm lightly, pulling you back to him. 

“What?” You huffed, feeling his release leak down your leg. You were desperate to go to the bathroom, change into your clothes, clean yourself up a little. “Ed, you gotta give me a break, alright? We can do whatever back home if you still want to, but I’m-” 

“-No,” Eddie shook his head, holding your hand in his so sweetly it made your knees weak, gooey with warmth. 

“You still gotta announce the winner. Not over ‘til you announce the winner.” Eddie grinned at you. For a second, you thought he might be kidding. 

The look in his eye, that competitive edge that always lingered still sparked behind those muddy puddle eyes, told you he was serious. 

A roll of your eyes was the only protest he got, half-hearted even at that. Your hand in his, you lifted his arm victoriously. “There. You’re the winner.” You let your hand fall with his. “Now, can I go change please, or do you need a formal victory an- oh.” 

Eddie pulled you flush to him, lips on yours, a firm kiss that matched his grip on your hips. Passionate, hard, full of finality in his affection, the way he always kissed you after a victory match. Usually bloodied and sweatier, a busted lip that you had to maneuver, or spilt knuckles. Still, you’d always let him, scurrying to the ropes after his declared victory. You learned quickly after the first few matches if you didn’t go to him, he’d fight the crowd to come to you. 

It was always how Eddie wanted to end his matches, celebrate his victories- with you. For all the brooding toughness, dirty cruelty and teasing, you knew he loved you. He knew you loved him, despite all your own flaws. 

On the ride back, sharing a cigarette in the Jaguar, ash falling on the dark leathered seats, Eddie looked over at you, breaking the snug silence that settled between the two of you. 

“Just for the record,” Eddie blew the smoke out the crack in the window, tapping the ash in the small compartment of the car, before passing the Marlboro to you. “I don’t like those fucking ring girls.” 

You looked over at him, thumb circling the soft paper of the cigarette. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, eyes cutting towards you briefly. “I don’t even look at them. I’m not… I got better shit to do.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You snorted lightly, lips wrapping around the dwindling cigarette stick, pulling a slow drag. 

“Yeah, gotta focus on winning.” Eddie scoffed like it was obvious. There was a pause, you letting the smoke fall past your lips into your own window crack. “Plus, y’know, got you at home. Not settling for them when I got the best.” 

Your lips curled in a grin, fingertips tickling his knuckles when you passed him back the cigarette. “For the record,” You leaned onto the console, smug at how he stiffened, trying to play it off. “I’m not looking for anyone else either. Just said that to make you mad.” 

“Of course, you did.” Eddie grumbled, rolling his eyes.You grinned, teeth sliding over your bottom lip. “I mean, you know I’m just messing with you.” You tuck a curl behind his ear, nail scratching gently over the shell of his ear. Eddie’s jaw clenched, fighting back a shudder. “Seriously. Why would I go look for some bum when I have the champ?”

[yeonbinwyd]

how you’ve been?

pairing: fem!reader x softdom! taehyun

synopsis: you and taehyun broke up a few months ago. He’s been missing you since but you would much rather not waste your time since he has so many other obligations at the moment.

genre (w/tags): smut, minors dni, breeding kink

Word count 1,494

a/n: I’ve been seeing so many taehyun edits it was his time LOL

It had been a while since you seen Taehyun on campus. Maybe he was purposely avoiding you. Maybe you were avoiding him. You would just go to class and go straight home. He did all the extra things. He was always left on campus throughout the day. It drove you insane since it seemed like he didn’t have time for dates or really take the time to spend with you. You wanted more than that. Everyone had been pushing you together since you both had came from the same high school but you’re a few years older. You also heard he’s also had a crush on you too. You both had a lot of mutual friends. Since you’re in your last semester, you don’t have a lot of classes and a full time job already lined up. Taehyun just wanted to enjoy his time there. You two just didn’t see eye to eye and it was obvious. When he initially asked you out, you were surprised. You didn’t seem like his type at all. He was cute and sweet so you went along with it. Dating him was fun while it lasted as well as it felt like you guys were getting close. You guys even talked about a future together but it just didn’t work.

It was Friday, finally you had your last class for the day and was ready to go home. Your professor asked you to stay since he had some questions for you about the assignment you turned in. You sighed but agreed. talking with him lasted a lot longer than expected. You finally race out the door but cross paths with Taehyun. You gave a thin lip smile while looking down trying to walk past.

“I’ve always hated that smile you do.” He chuckles. You look up at him and see a bright smile on his face. “I miss it though.” He admits. At this point, you stop in your tracks. As you turn back, he looks you dead in the eye. The two of you keep eye contact for a bit. His boba pearl eyes were your only weakness.

“I’ve really missed you” Taehyun admits again taking a few steps closer to you. The eye contact deepens. Reality sinks back in.

“I’ve got to get going” you try and slip away. Taking off without a second thought, you get going down the hall. He’s left in front of class, not even wanting to go anymore.

After that whole ordeal, your skin was begging for some self care. You took a bath, with a face mask, starting to wind down. Just as you were about to get relaxed in bed, You hear the doorbell. You heard the footsteps of your housemate going to the door. All you can hear is your housemate dab someone up like they haven’t seen this person in so long.

“Hey Y/n! Guess who’s here?” Your housemate calls out. You manage to leave your room, face mask still on.

“It’s Taehyun. “ Kai coos. He’s all smiles but you were horrified.

“Oh god Kai. Thanks for the warning” You snatch the mask off your face.

“Hey. I couldn’t stop thinking about you earlier. Thought I’d stop by.” Taehyun confesses. Yours and Kai’s eyes widen. Kai was a good mutual friend of his too.

“And I thought you’d be here to see me.” Kai gives a fake sigh in sarcasm leaving the two of you alone together.

“Could we talk?” Taehyun innocently eyes you up and down. You cave, letting him inside. You both take a seat in the living room, the same one that holds all the memories of you two together.

“It’s been a few months…” he starts. You nod in silence. You don’t even know what to say, how to respond.

“I quit swim and soccer.”

“What? You love those sports. Why did you quit?”

“You were right. I had too much going on. Now I can just focus on school.” He explains. “I also just wanted to let you know that I’ve been thinking about you and us a lot. I know you’ve probably moved on but I’d hate myself if I never got a chance to tell you.” Taehyun looks at you with those eyes again. He really means it too.

“I’ve been missing you too. “You finally break your silence. He smiles so bright, his dimple shows through. That cute face of his was hard to stay mad at. He scoots closer to you, grabbing your hand.

“I’m sorry for how we ended things and how I treated you. Hurting you was the last thing I intended on doing. I was just kinda..”

“Self centered” you chime in. You both laugh.

“Yeah I can admit that now. I know this doesn’t make up for the past but just know you were the only one I ever thought about a future with.” He reveals. Those words felt like the first time hearing them. When you heard them the first time too, it made your stomach tie in a knot. You instinctively squeeze his hand. He took it as a sign, started to lean in for a kiss. You meet his lips with yours, cupping his face. A couple of pecks turned into a tongue war very quickly. His strong arms, begin to hug you close. Kai catches you two mid kiss and slips out the front door, really leaving you two alone. Taehyun lifts you, instinctively, you wrap your legs around him. He guides the two of you to your room, gently setting you down on your bed. Without wasting any time, you peel off each other’s clothes. He takes in the beauty of the curves that he missed.

“You’re so sexy” he compliments. Taehyun begins to leave kisses all over your body. First your neck, traveling all over. He can’t help but squeeze your stomach too. It’s his favorite place. You lie down to let him continue. He loves taking his time with you. Making sure every inch of you gets the love it deserves. Taehyun reaches your bikini line, his kisses get more aggressive.

“Can I get a taste?” He requests. You nod giving him the ok. Before you know it, he was exploring your cunt with his tongue. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure. The kisses were mixed with his tongue grazing you and his pillowy lips. Taehyun was in love with your pussy. He didn’t know how to control himself.

“Let me fuck you baby. Let me show you how much I want you.” Taehyun begs. Sex with him wasn’t like this before. He was nervous and didn’t talk much before. Something changed in him. He sat up before you, slowly taking the plunge inside you. Now he’s throwing his head back, unable to breathe, he feels so good. Taehyun starts to move but is gentle to start. He knew the animal inside him would come out but he wanted to make sure his angel was safe first. He picked up the pace with light strokes but even then drove him insane. Your soft moans were igniting him. Unable to contain himself, he picks you up, you wrap your legs around him again. He starts thrusting upwards while kissing you on the mouth.

“You’re mine. I’ll make you mine.” He manages to say in between kisses. His thrusts were becoming more rough, with each one getting deeper. You felt your grip getting weaker so he set you down but turned you around. Still standing, he fucks you from behind, holding on to your hips and stomach. You could feel his pumps in your tummy. He wasn’t letting up.

“You’re taking me so well baby. You’re such a good girl.” He grabs your neck, bringing you back to kiss him. Your moans filling the room. You started to cum but Taehyun wasn’t ready to let you go. He could feel you getting tighter around him. He lifts your legs up, holstering you as he continues. He turns you in front of your full length mirror. You see the two of you in full view.

“See how pretty you are? Oh god I need to keep you. Let me put this baby in you” he demands. At this point you’re seeing stars but he’s still going. Your cum dripping down his leg. You nod in agreement, unable to speak. His strokes pick up, his pants become louder and higher. He finally cums, shooting his far in you. The warmth fills you up. He sets you down in the bed while cuddling you. You’re still unable to think straight. Taehyun didn’t let go. Maybe he meant it?

[a-bright-comet]

Jade Shadows Thoughts

(NOTICE: I have edited this post after a few days and many lovely replies and tags giving me more insight and opinions, overall my view of this quest has gotten a lot more positive, thank you all <3) okaaayyyy I am utterly rattled rn lmao also made the mistake of looking at tumblr after doing the quest and as expected it seems to be a 50/50 of hating or loving it. so here are my personal thoughts, I am a little scared but talk seems to be civil thankfully. I can definitely agree on the sentiment that this quest needed more time, cause let's be honest the people hating this quest wouldn't be jumping to the things they're jumping to if Jade herself got more screen-time before the big drop, warframe's style has always been vague and never 100% straight-forward and I think that unfortunately hurt it a bit this time, as what they didn't show came off wrong to many people and while I sorta see why I disagree on some parts. I also feel like the quest kinda got a bit *too* hyped both by DE and the fanbase's theories, way too short, it deserved and needed to be a bit longer for it's special narrative. Jade kinda got a weird spot, both being the main focus alongside Stalker but also hardly explored. But let's be honest, most of the negativity is caused by this outside-circumstance alone. Now, what I absolutely disagree with is people insisting that DE was trying to say "bodily autonomy bad" or that Stalker didn't care about her and only the child, thing is I thought it was pretty fucking clear that she *wanted* the child in what little was shown and she was going to die no matter the outcome (thanks to the orokin to absolutely no one's surprise) and Stalker in his guilt for all she's done for him wanted to make sure that he at least kept this one promise to Her, cause She wanted it. she still had bodily autonomy in the fact She wanted this, she wanted the child no matter what. and she wanted stalker to protect her and the kid. And he did, like a true loving partner. DE has a long track record of being very autonomy-positive. A point they make time and time again is that ripping it away is *bad* and horrifying, the quest is a bittersweet tragedy, not a horror. Honestly there would be 0 issue if DE had given us a Jade-only quest before this one, I personally would've preferred it as well, she's cool as hell she deserves it. who knows maybe DE will see all of this and make prequel quests? we can only hope. I do not want to assume the worst of anyone or anything cause that's a miserable existence. Look I personally enjoyed the quest and get the feeling whoever wrote it did it out of some personal experience or sorrow, that's at least the vibe I got. It's a tragedy, but her choice was seen till the end, many women choose to still have a child despite knowing they won't make it, many also don't, that's why choice is important. and she did, she chose her child that she was having while likely forcibly infested and turned into a warframe. (also remember there are women on the team who likely looked at this.) there are some other iffy parts of the quest, (really should've been the drifter instead of the operator if they were gonna do that, but that's personal discomfort.) but overall I enjoyed it and open to explore the implications of a born-warframe-child and Stalker healing as they both grow together. These are my thoughts, and I can understand why people like or dislike this quest, but I think it's fine and just ended up in a very unfortunate spot due to outside circumstances beyond it's control. (sorry if any of this comes off as aggressive it is not my intention despite how riled I am by some folk online, I disagree with you but I do not hate you, I don't even know you.)

Her choice, His promise, Their light.

Thank you for reading my first ever text post about something I care about, not sure I'll be doing this again any time soon out of anxiety lol (Edit: and thanks to everyone responding to this post wonderfully, ya'll are great and have lessened my anxiety and have made me appreciate this quest more <3)

[happyprincesscycle]

Grump and Pupp

Pairings: Grumpy!Billy Butcher x Sunshine!Reader

Summary: Billy Butcher and the reader with the Shrek and Donkey dynamic. Basically Butcher is a grumpy old man and you are like a cute puppy yapping and following him everywhere and no matter how much he tries to get you off of his ass you just can't seem to get a hint.

(Recently rewatched Shrek and he reminded me of Butcher lol. I thought a dynamic like that would be so funny with him so I gave butch a sweet yapping friend who he cannot get rid of)

------------------‐---------------------------------

Billy Butcher was no stranger to solitude. In fact, he preferred it that way—peace and quiet, no one to answer to, no one to bother him. But that all went out the window the day you stumbled into his life, a young, bright-eyed, relentlessly cheerful force of nature that had somehow decided he was your new best friend.

He didn’t know how it happened. One moment he was alone, enjoying a quiet pint at his favorite dingy pub, and the next, there you were, plopping down beside him like you belonged there, chatting away like you’d known him for years.

“You look like someone who could use a friend,” you’d said with a grin, as if that explained everything.Butcher had glared at you, silently willing you to leave. But you didn’t take the hint—in fact, you didn’t seem to notice the hint at all.

And from that moment on, it was like you’d attached yourself to him with some sort of invisible leash, following him everywhere, talking his ear off, and generally driving him up the wall.

“Oi, Butcher! You ever think about getting a pet?” you asked one day as the two of you wandered through the city, your voice as bubbly as ever. “I bet you’d be great with a dog! Or maybe a cat—they’re more independent, like you. But then again, cats can be kinda grumpy, and you’re already grumpy enough…”

Butcher stopped in his tracks, spinning around to face you. “Will you just shut it for five bloody minutes?”You blinked at him, your smile never wavering.

“Sure! But can I just say one more thing?”

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re gonna say it anyway, aren’t you?” “Yep!” you chirped. “I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be fun if we had a secret handshake? Like, something really complicated with lots of fist bumps and twirls—oh, and maybe a little dance at the end! It’d be our thing, you know?”

Butcher stared at you, wondering how in the hell you’d managed to survive this long. “A secret handshake? You’re serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack!” you replied, nodding eagerly. “Come on, let’s come up with one right now!”

Butcher rubbed his face, feeling the last of his patience slipping away. “Listen, I ain’t got time for handshakes or dances or any of this bollocks. I’ve got a job to do, and you’re just in the way.”

You frowned for the first time, looking genuinely confused. “In the way? But I’m helping, aren’t I? I mean, who else is gonna keep you company while you do… whatever it is you do?”

Butcher opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his tongue. You were right—well, sort of. He didn’t need company, but for some reason, you’d stuck around longer than anyone else ever had. And despite himself, he couldn’t completely hate it. Not that he’d ever admit that, of course.

“Look,” he said, trying to sound as stern as possible. “I’m a dangerous bloke, alright? People who get close to me end up gettin’ hurt. You’d do well to bugger off while you still can.”

You just grinned at him, completely unfazed. “Dangerous, shmangerous! I’m not going anywhere, Best friends stick together, Butcher!”

Butcher let out a long, suffering sigh. “Christ, you’re like a bloody tick…”

But despite his grumbling, he found himself continuing down the street, with you happily tagging along beside him, yapping away about something or other.

And as much as he tried to tune you out, he couldn’t help but catch bits and pieces of your chatter.

“—and then we could get matching jackets! Maybe something with skulls on the back, or flaming swords! Oh, and we definitely need a cool team name. How about ‘Butcher’s Team’? Or maybe ‘The Butcher Bunch’? No, wait! I’ve got it—‘The Grump and The Pup’!”

Butcher shook his head, half-amused despite himself. “You’re a right pain in the arse, you know that?”

“Yep!” you replied cheerfully. “But you love me anyway.”He scoffed, but there was no heat behind it.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, sunshine.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemicrofic August challenge.

Embarrassing For You

August Prompt: Plug | Word Count: 437 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Voyeurism | Tags: Pre-Steddie, Set During S2, Slice of Life, Sports Practice, Bisexual Eddie Munson, And He's Being a Little Weird, Because He is a Little Weird

Eddie is leaning against the metal slats underneath the bleachers, as he watches the boy's basketball team getting ready for outdoor strength training. They only do it once a week, and Eddie has quickly learned that it's his favorite day of the week. 

The cheerleaders are practicing on the track, skirts flying over their heads, their spankies and long legs on glorious display. And to the right, the guys are on the field doing different drills for strength and agility.

It's a bisexual boy's dream come true. His dirty little secret. With so many pretty places to look, and so little time to do it.

"You're ridiculous," Gareth says from behind him, and Eddie glances in his direction from where they're hidden under the bleachers, overlooking the football field and track.

"Sssh!" Eddie hisses, yanking Gareth closer to him by the collar of his vest.

"This is embarrassing for you," Gareth says, and yeah, sure. This is a little embarrassing. But whatever. He can spectate sports in secret once a week from beneath the bleachers, thank you very much.

Gareth cannot, and will not, take this away from him.

"Just look," Eddie says, leaning closer to the holes in the bleachers so he can watch the athletes warming up on the field. 

Gareth leans next to him, and looks, "I say again. This is embarrassing for you."

Eddie ignores him.

A blonde cheerleader does a bunch of back handsprings, legs and ass showing, and Eddie likes that, he does, but right now he's really got eyes for Steve Harrington.

Shirtless, all that tan skin, with a heavy sheen of sweat as the sun beats down on him as he works hard, pulling all that weight behind him.

"Look at him. Just plugging along," Eddie says under his breath, watching Steve drag a heavy bag across the grass. Biceps bulging. Cut thighs. Those thighs, rippling under his little shorts. "The little engine that could. Chugga-chugga, choo-choo."

And before Gareth can say anything, they're interrupted by a laugh from above.

Oh fuck. 

Oh shit.

Eddie backs up. He didn't say Steve's name out loud did he? He rewinds all his color commentary through his head, and he doesn't think he did. Maybe this can be played off. 

But then a head's looking at them, upside down, hair hanging loose.

Robin Buckley. From band. 

Well, that's equal parts terrible and probably fine. He's pretty sure she's playing on the same team he is, and why's she here, if not for watching the cheerleaders? Birds of a feather.

"You're a dingus," she says.

And yeah, okay. Fair. She's got him there.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️

Notes: Will Future!Robin tell Future!Steve, what she heard this day, maybe while sitting next to an RV in 1986, while making Molotov cocktails? Who's to say? (Me, and I say yes, lol.)