#let them win goddammit
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miyamiwu · 11 months ago
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FC Barcha? More like FC BACHIRA
mah boy carrying the team since day one 😭
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danandfuckingjonlmao · 3 months ago
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so five and lila being a thing is going right next to allison literally sexually assaulting luther in the box of things we are absolutely under no circumstances accepting as part of canon right
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Straight up had a dream last night that DC revealed that Bart and Kon were dating and it was in the WILDEST FUCKING WAY.
K, so picture this: Clark needs someone to fly around disguised as him for a plan. So Clark goes through the options in his head: Bruce can't fly, MM is off world, Jon is too much of a twink to be believable, Kara is blonde, Kon is.... Perfect! With a person in mind who would be perfect for his plan, Clark flies off to find Kon.
Cut to Judy Garrick zipping around the Garrick's house. Joan is quietly scrapbooking at the kitchen table and Judy is bored out of her mind. Judy asks Joan if there is anything she can do because she is so unbelievably bored.
Joan responds, very calmly, that she can hear "your brother's boyfriend touching down in the backyard, so why don't you go ask him?"
Judy's face jumps from emotion to emotion as three things are revealed at once. 1) Joan considers Bart to be a son and thus, Judy's brother, 2) Judy's new brother is not straight and 3) Bart has a boyfriend who is in the backyard.
So Judy immediately runs to the backyard and is stunned to bump into Clark (who was there looking for Kon) and then the dream continued on with the two of them hunting down Bart&Kon (who were just at school being normal goddammit!!!) but the entire time Judy is secretly out for blood because she thinks that Joan was referring to Clark and that this adult man is trying to date her new little brother and Judy keeps trying to kill him but it doesn't work because Clark is Kryptonian (and oblivious to the attempted homicides).
Anyway, wild dream all around.
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diana-daphne · 1 year ago
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I’m honestly kind of terrified of AI, and I kind of hate it.
But I also just because toxic besties with Regina George on character ai so maybe there really is a silver lining to everything
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madeofjules · 3 months ago
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THG character summaries
Book 1
Katniss: I'll do whatever it takes to get home to Prim. I'll kill whoever I have to. I won't let anyone, no matter how sweet or innocent, distract m— is that child over there shaped like my sister? Is that my bread boy dying?? Goddammit
Peeta: guess I'll die but not before I own the Capitol by kissing my crush hell yeah
Gale: I'm about to lose my future wife to a BLOND??
Haymitch: Katniss you idiot
Book 2
Gale: I finally got a win! Katniss chose me, we're gonna start an uprising togeth— aaand now she's back in the arena falling in love with that smooth motherfucker in real time, fml
Peeta: guess I'll die again but not before I own the Capitol by kissing my fake pregnant wife hell yeah
Finnick: I can't believe the fate of the country rests on my ability to babysit two teens. The angry one is having homicidal thoughts about me and the pleasant one is a death magnet. Sigh. At least this arena brings out my eyes
Haymitch: Katniss you idiot
Katniss: what the fuck is going on
Book 3
Haymitch: you can take my booze or my Peeta or my Katniss but you cannot take all three. No I don't have a preference I love them all equally. Wait no I was kidding take Katniss
Finnick: *weeping*
Gale: I FINALLY get to do something. I'm gonna blow up a mountain
Katniss: I'm gonna kill the president and then myself
Peeta: what's my favorite color
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blond3ang3l · 2 months ago
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can u make a part 2 to ur logan fic? maybe reader gives in and sucks logan off?
I apologize ahead of time for the man I became while writing this second part🩷
———————————————————————
You shook my head and tried to turn away from him. The same power imbalance you two usually had. Always fighting back and forth for who was the better mutant. This time Logan wasn’t going to let you win in the slightest. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"No. Fucking look at me.”
He commanded, his eyes filled with intensity.
"I want you to see who's doing this to you.”
He pushed his pants down, his hard dick brushing against your thighs, leaving a stick mess.
"I told you to leave and your stupid ass didn't listen. this is your fault. you brought this upon yourself."
"No, fuck Logan. s' isn't right. This is against the rules, what if someone hears?”
He ignores your protests, lining himself up with your ass.
"It's exactly right. You should have listened when I told you to fuck off the first time.”
He let spit on to his dick before pushing inside you, not gentle, not caring about your fake protest. If you wanted to you could easily push him off, he’s not stupid and he knows you wanted this but didn’t want to admit. He just fucks you hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He told you to leave for a reason. He was starting his rut and being around basically anyone made him want to pounce of them.
"This is what you get for not listening.
Your eyes rolled back as you groaned. Your right leg thrown over his shoulder, his hand gripping you face so you had to look at him. He smirks at the sound of your pleasure, his thrusts becoming more forceful. His hand leaves your face to grip the headboard, his nails digging into the wood as he pounds into you.
"You like that?”
He asks, his voice low and husky.
"You like it rough?
"Fuck! yes, oh my god Logan."
Your arm wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear.
"Good. Because I'm not done yet.”
He continues to fuck you hard, his claws extending and digging into the mattress on either side of your head.
"I'm going to fucking ruin you.”
He snarls, his hips slamming against yours. The other mutants were going to hate him later for the sound his headboard slamming against the wall so hard repeatedly, but he didn't give a fuck. His rut was way more important to him than them and with how good you felt they could kiss his ass if they thought he was going to be quiet for them. Your nails were digging into his skin as he thrusted into you repeatedly, crying out his name right into his ear. The sound of your cries and the slamming of the headboard against the wall are music to his ears. He fucks you even harder, his claws digging deeper into the mattress as he loses control.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
He roars, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a brutal pace. Your hair was splayed out over his bed. a small bulge in your lower tummy from where his cock was hitting. He looks down to see the bulge in your lower stomach and grins, his cock throbbing as he continues to fuck you hard.
"That's right, baby. Take it all."
He growls, his claws his claws gripping the mattress even tighter as he thrusts into you harder and faster. Your dick was leaking over both of your stomachs, making a sticky mess. it felt like the air was being knocked out your chest which each deep thrust.
"Logan!"
The sound of your cries and the sticky mess on your stomach only fuels him more. He drives his cock into you harder, groaning in pleasure as he takes what he wants.
"Goddammit. Yeah. Take it!”
You were much different than the other mutants he's fucked, you were a fucking freak. matching his energy completely. He would have to hold back with other people, his strength sometimes getting out of control. But you were just as fucked as he was and he was eating that shit up.
"harder. fucking harder Logan."
He grins wickedly, his hips snapping forward with brutal force.
"You can take it.”
He hisses, his teeth bared.
"You wanted more, didn't you?"
He pounds into you mercilessly, his claws shredding the mattress
"Beg for it.”
You gripped his collar and pulled his face towards yours.
"I swear to god you better fuck me like you god damn mean it Logan I’ll go find another man to fucking do it."
His eyes flash with feral hunger at your demand. He snarls and bites down on your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you with a frenzy he's never shown before. The bedframe cracks under the force of his thrusts, and the headboard crashes to the floor. You couldn’t care less about the bed breaking under you two. You wrapped your legs around his waist refusing to let him stop yet. He grunted in approval, his arms wrapping around your waist as he continues to pound into you.
"That's right. Hold on tight.”
He breathed heavily against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.
"I'm not finished with you yet.”
"More, please Logan."
His answer was to grab your ankles and pull your legs up even higher, changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position allows him to hit even deeper, his cock slamming against your prostate with relentless force.
"Fuck, you're so fucking tight!"
He roars, his voice echoing through the room. Your knees were basically pressed against your chest. each thrust hitting deep inside you. Your and his pecs pressed against once other. one of your arms wrapped around his neck as you repeatedly moaned his ear. He grinned darkly, his hips bucking against yours as he continues to stretch you wide.
"You like that? You like me splitting you open?"
He hisses, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to draw blood.
"Say it."
"Fuck yes, make it hurt."
He growls low in his throat, his pace quickening as he spreads your legs even wider.
"That's my good little whore.”
He praises harshly, his voice hoarse with exertion.
"You can take more, can't you?
"Yes, yes I can take it."
“Gonna fucking cum, you’re gonna take this shit aren’t you baby? Let me hear you.”
His hand moved to the back of your neck, wrapping around and pushing your forehead against his. Both you letting a moan as you came together, him inside you and you all over you guys stomach.
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steveseddie · 1 month ago
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my heart burns there too
steddie | rating: t | wc: 4,7k | cw: none | tags: misunderstandings, light angst, pining, eddie jumps into some crazy ass conclusions, but it’s all good in the end
for @steddie-spooktober day eight, prompt “bonfire”
read on ao3 here
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The bonfire is Robin’s idea, but Steve is who extends the invitation to Eddie when he stops by Family Video one day.
“A bonfire? Won’t that get us arrested?” He asks, leaning on the counter and watching Steve operate the tape rewinder with a bored expression.
“Nah, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “Hopper is Chief again and you’d be surprised by how easy it is to get him off your back if you play the ‘I fought monsters with your kid’ card.”
Eddie lets out a snort. “Wish I had that all those times that he picked me up for dealing.”
Steve sniggers. The tape rewinder makes a loud clicking sound, signaling that it’s finished, and Steve removes the tape, putting it back in its case before rewinding a new one. “So are you in?”
“Sure,” Eddie says, never one to turn down the opportunity to spend time with Steve— and Robin, of course. “But I’m not holding hands with you and Buckley and singing Kumbaya.”
For some reason, that makes Steve blush. He ducks his head, fiddling with another tape. “Um, well, it’s not just us, Nance is coming too.”
Ah, Eddie thinks, now the blush makes more sense.
He tries not to let his disappointment show. He doesn’t want Steve to think he has anything against Nancy because the truth is that he doesn’t. Nancy is great— she’s nice, she’s smart and she’s fucking badass. He wasn’t lying during that Spring Break from Hell when he told Steve that he should win her back, Wheeler is a fucking catch. Even Eddie, gay as fuck as he is, can see it.
Only now things are different. Not the fact that Nancy is a catch, she still is. But now she’s single, and she and Steve have been inseparable since she ended things with Jonathan.
Oh, and now Eddie is stupidly and hopelessly in love with Steve so he’s just waiting for the day when they finally announce that they’re back together and break Eddie’s heart.
He doesn’t know what they’re waiting for and he kinda wishes they would just get the fuck on with it. At least then, Eddie could stomp down any hope of anything ever happening between him and Steve. Right now they’re in a weird limbo where some days Eddie will catch Steve’s gaze flickering down to his lips or he’ll feel his touches linger a little too long and he’ll think maybe, but then he’ll walk into Steve’s kitchen to find Nancy and Steve whispering with their heads pushed together only for them to break apart and go quiet the moment they see him or he’ll try to make plans with Steve only to watch him fumble for an excuse before admitting he’s hanging out with Nancy. And every time his heart shatters a little, so better to just rip the bandage off once and for all.
“Eds?”
Steve’s voice snaps Eddie out of his thoughts and he realizes that he fell uncharacteristically quiet at the mention of Nancy. So much for acting like he doesn’t have a problem with her. Goddammit.
He plasters a smile on his face. “Wheeler is coming, you say? Great! The more the merrier!” He says, hoping it sounds convincing enough. “Should I bring something? Lighter fluid? Marshmallows? Child sacrifices?”
A woman standing to the side of the counter, letting the kid in her arms pick something from the candy display gasps audibly, scowling at Eddie and switching the toddler from one arm to the other, further away from him.
Whoops.
Steve gives him a look— why are you like this? it says. Eddie shrugs.
“Just bring drinks, okay?” Steve whispers to him after giving the woman a placating smile.
“Sure thing, big boy,” he says, delighting in the baffled little pout Steve makes every time Eddie calls him that. “Anything else?”
“Well,” Steve purses his lips, thinking. “I’ve got everything we need for the bonfire, Rob is bringing the music and Nance is in charge of the snacks.”
“Tell her I want s’mores.”
“She’s way ahead of you, man,” Steve says with a chuckle. Eddie’s eye twitches— of course perfect Nancy already picked the perfect snacks.
Nancy isn’t your problem, Eddie reminds himself, the problem is that Steve’s straight and still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and frankly, out of your league.
He sighs. “Sweet, I’ll see you and the ladies on Friday then.”
“Oh, you’re leaving already?” Steve asks, sounding almost disappointed. Other than the woman and her child, the store is empty and has been for the entire time Eddie has been here. He’s probably dreading being alone for the rest of a slow shift.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, “I promised Red I’d drive her to the skatepark and if I’m late to pick her up, she’ll beat me to death with her skateboard and I’m too pretty to die.”
Steve smiles at him, that little lopsided smile that Eddie likes to believe is reserved just for him. He’s never seen him smile like that at anyone else— fond, amused, endeared. “Yeah, you are,” he says and winks.
Eddie’s breath hitches, his traitorous heart thinks maybe but his brain stomps down that hope real quick.
“Careful, Stevie, or Wheeler might get jealous,” he jokes but it doesn’t come out as lighthearted as he wishes.
Steve’s eyebrows furrow but before he can say anything else, a group of kids comes barrelling through the door followed by an exhausted parent and they all walk up to the counter to ask Steve for recommendations for their movie night.
Eddie quietly slips away from the counter, giving Steve a lazy salute and getting a finger wiggle in return before the kids loudly demand his attention.
Six little nuggets, Eddie thinks, recalling a conversation between Steve and Nancy that he wasn’t supposed to hear.
His heart breaks a little more. He wonders how long it’ll take before it shatters completely.
***
To no one’s surprise, Eddie is the last one to arrive at the bonfire.
He parks his van between Steve’s car and Nancy’s station wagon at the spot Steve circled on a map when he gave Eddie directions. After swinging his guitar over his shoulder and grabbing the cooler filled with sodas and beer, he follows the smell of smoke and the sound of Buckley’s boombox through the woods.
He spots Robin first— feeding dry leaves and twigs into the fire and singing along to some pop song Eddie doesn’t recognize.
Eddie whistles appreciatively. “That’s one impressive fire, Birdie!”
Robin jumps, dropping the leaves and the twigs to the ground with a startled yelp. When she spots Eddie, her face breaks into a big grin and she clumsily steps over the logs arranged around the bonfire to hug him as best as she can with the cooler between them and Eddie’s guitar on his back.
“You made it! And you brought your guitar!” She says, bouncing on her feet with excitement.
“Yup, there’s no way I’m letting you make my ears bleed by listening to pop tunes all night,” he teases and gets a light punch on his arm for it.
“I didn’t know you could play metal with just an acoustic.”
“Metal isn’t all I know, Birdie, I have hidden depths,” he says, thinking about all the country and folk songs he knows thanks to Wayne.
Robin cackles. “Sure you do, Munson.”
He sticks his tongue out at her and then glances around, looking for Steve and Nancy but they’re nowhere to be seen.
“They’re picking up more wood,” Robin says when she notices him looking. “They should be back soon.”
Unless they got distracted making out, Eddie thinks, biting down on his tongue to not let the bitter comment slip past his lips.
As if on cue, they hear leaves rustling and then Nancy and Steve step out from the treeline. Steve is carrying the wood and Eddie gets to enjoy the way his biceps bulge from the weight before his eyes zero in on Nancy’s tiny hand wrapped around Steve’s arm. They’re in deep conversation, Steve listening intently and nodding as Nancy speaks to him with a soft voice, her hand never leaving his arm. They don’t even notice he’s there until Robin points it out.
“Hey! Look who’s here!” She says, oblivious to the downward turn of Eddie’s mouth.
Both Nancy and Steve’s heads snap in their direction and Eddie tries really hard to school his features into something casual and less green-eyed monster.
Nancy’s hand falls from Steve’s arm and the pile of wood he’s carrying falters a little before Steve hoists it up again, biceps flexing. Eddie tears his eyes from his arms to look at his face, expecting him to look like he just spent the last ten minutes making out with Nancy or like he just got caught red-handed but instead, he’s grinning widely at Eddie, eyes twinkling under the moonlight.
“Hey, Eds!” He says, attempting to wave with his elbow but giving up when a piece of wood falls to the ground, his cheeks pinking up in embarrassment. “Shit, Nance, can you—” he starts but Nancy is already picking it up and placing it back on the top of the pile. “Thanks.”
Eddie carelessly drops the cooler in front of him. “Hey, Stevie. Hey, Wheeler,” he says, sweeping down in an over dramatic bow. “I come bearing drinks.”
Robin whoops, throwing the lid open and grabbing a wine cooler while Nancy picks up a beer.
Steve forgoes the cooler, dropping the wood on the ground next to it and walking around it to pull Eddie into a hug.
It takes him a little by surprise but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers against Steve's neck, feeling him shudder, probably from the cold. He's only wearing a polo shirt, and despite the fire burning next to them, Eddie feels a slight chill in the air even though his jacket. “You smell like smoke.”
Steve snorts. “Oh, so I smell like you?”
It’s Eddie’s turn to shudder as his brain provides a handful of other reasons why Steve would smell like him. He tells his lizard brain to cool it and pulls back. “Yup, exactly! And you should know the smell is a bitch to get rid of.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Steve says, shrugging. With a wink, he adds, “I like it.”
Which to Eddie sounds flirty and a lot like ‘I like the way you smell’ and it takes his brain a moment to recover from that, but he does it just in time to catch the beer Steve tosses at him, even if he fumbles with it at first.
“You did a good job with the fire, Stevie,” he says, expertly popping the bottle open and gulping half of it down.
He catches Steve watching his throat as he drinks and the way he gives a little shake of his head before glancing at the bonfire. “You only say that because you didn’t see my first two failed attempts,” he chuckles. “It was actually Nancy who got it going.”
Eddie’s grip on the bottle tightens. “What would we do without her?” He says, voice a little clipped.
Steve’s smile falters but luckily doesn’t ask what Eddie’s problem is. “So are you gonna play for us?” He asks instead, gesturing at the guitar still hanging from his shoulder.
“Not just yet, Stevie. I was promised snacks, I’m hungry.”
“Me too!” Robin jumps in.
“Oh, the snacks are in the car,” Nancy says, digging through her bag for the keys. “I’ll go get them!”
“It’s okay, Nance. Eddie and I can go,” Steve volunteers, and with a secretive smile, Nancy tosses him the keys.
“Don’t forget you gotta—”
“Jiggle the key to open the trunk, I know,” Steve finishes with a smirk.
Eddie doesn’t realize he’s pouting until Steve points it out. Luckily he thinks it’s because he volunteered Eddie to get the snack too, and not because Steve is finishing Nancy’s sentences. “Stop pouting, Eds, it’s not that far.”
“You only say that because you didn’t have to carry a cooler and a guitar all the way here,” Eddie responds snarkily before setting his beer down on the ground and falling into step next to Steve.
“I’ll do the heavy lifting this time,” Steve smirks.
Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm, feeling the taut muscle underneath. “Seems like you already have, big boy,” he says, his voice coming out lower and flirty now that they left Nancy at the bonfire.
With an undignified yelp, Steve trips over something and Eddie, who hadn’t let go of his arm yet, tightens his grip to keep him on his feet.
“Careful, sweetheart,” Eddie says and Steve curses under his breath. Maybe his foot got caught on a root and he hurt himself— it’s hard to see the ground when all they have is the moonlight filtering through the trees. “You okay?”
“Yup, yeah, thanks, man,” Steve stammers out, giving Eddie a tight smile. “Come on, we don’t want to keep Robin waiting, you know how she gets when she’s hungry.”
Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah, I know. I still have her bite mark on my fucking arm,” he says, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to point out the fading bruise from their last movie night when the pizza was taking too long to get there and Buckley decided to chump on his arm. “As if getting chumped on by demobats wasn’t enough!”
Steve sniggers. His eyes sparkle with something when he says, “Don’t think I can blame her for wanting a piece of you, though,” matching Eddie’s tone from before— low and flirty.
Eddie’s eyes widen, he stops looking at where he’s going to gawk at Steve and trips on a rock. With no one grabbing his arm, he goes down, landing on his hands and knees.
“Motherfucker,” he curses, his face burning with embarrassment.
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve mutters, hurrying to help him up.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” he laments with a chuckle, brushing off dirt from his pants and his hands.
“You okay?” Steve asks softly and then Eddie feels hands cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up until he meets Steve’s eyes. “You didn’t hit your head?”
Eddie shakes his head no, but the truth is he isn’t exactly sure— maybe he hit his head and now he’s hallucinating how close their faces are or how Steve’s eyes linger a little too long on his lips as they dart over his face, looking for any sign that Eddie hurt himself.
“Um,” Eddie clears his throat which feels a little dry. “We should get those snacks before the girls send a search party after us.”
Steve nods, and after letting his right thumb brush over Eddie’s cheekbone once, he drops his hands from his face.
Heat builds up on Eddie’s face, making his cheeks burn hotter than the bonfire.
They stay like that all the way to Nancy’s car.
***
Back at the bonfire, Robin snatches the marshmallows from Eddie’s arms. “What took you guys so long?” She asks, ripping the bag open and unceremoniously shoving one into her mouth.
“Gee, and they call me feral!” Eddie says and is rewarded by Robin hitting him with the bag of giant marshmallows. It doesn’t hurt, they’re marshmallows, but Eddie is nothing if not dramatic.
He grabs his arm where she hit him and falls to his knees, as if wounded. “This is what I get for braving the woods at night for your snacks, Lady Buckley? The nerve, the ungratefulness! I shall never recover!”
Robin lets out a giggly snort. She offers him a marshmallow on a stick for him to roast as an apology which he graciously accepts.
When he looks up, he finds Steve looking down at him with an amused expression. “Why do you insist on dropping to your knees in the middle of the woods? Your jeans are ripped enough as it is!”
Eddie’s mouth acts faster than his brain, leering at Steve as he says, “You don't like how I look on my knees, sweetheart?”
Steve’s eyes widen almost comically, his cheeks flaring an alarming shade of red. Eddie doesn’t get to enjoy the sight of a flustered Steve for long, his head snapping to his right when there’s a loud gasp that doesn’t come from either of them.
His eyes meet Nancy’s wide ones as they dart from Steve to Eddie to Eddie’s knees and back at Steve, her lips mouthing a silent, “Oh.”
Oh? Eddie thinks, ‘Oh’ what?
She can’t possibly mean— even if Steve said this isn’t the first time Eddie drops to his knees tonight, she can’t possibly think— oh Christ, does she?
Eddie is about to blurt out something along the lines of, ‘I didn’t blow your secret boyfriend in the woods, I just wish I did’ when Nancy’s eyes meet Steve’s and out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees Steve firmly shake his head. That seems to be enough for Nancy, whose shocked expression melts away as she stands up and joins Robin where she’s roasting her marshmallow.
Eddie sits back on his heels with a sigh.
“You okay?” Steve asks, knocking his Nike against Eddie’s leg.
No, your girlfriend just thought you cheated on her with me! Eddie wants to say. “Yup, come on, let’s make some s’mores,” he says instead, pushing himself off the ground to go sit on one of the logs arranged around the bonfire.
He expects Steve to sit with Nancy, to appease her further but he sits next to Eddie, leaving no space between them despite there being plenty of room.
Eddie doesn’t mind, he loves having Steve close. Still, he can’t help but send surreptitious glances at Nancy every once in a while, averting his eyes when he finds her staring right back a few times.
He stops glancing at her when he gets distracted by Steve eating his s’mores— more specifically by him messily licking his lips and fingers clean. Not even his own marshmallow catching on fire can make Eddie tear his gaze away from Steve’s tongue lapping at the melted chocolate on his fingers, not until Robin screeches and points at the blackened little thing at the end of Eddie’s stick.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie curses as he pulls it out of the fire to blow on it, extinguishing the flames. Next to him, Steve laughs, lips stretched in a smug smile that it’s a little too knowing.
Holding the stick between his legs, Eddie squeezes the marshmallow between the crackers and the chocolate before taking a bite. There’s a slight burnt taste to it but it’s still good, so Eddie eats it enthusiastically.
He can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he does and he considers putting on a show like he did— licking and sucking on his fingers in an obscene way. But before he can, Steve is reaching out and wiping chocolate from Eddie’s bottom lip with his thumb.
Eddie’s breath hitches, his eyes widening.
Red blooms on Steve’s cheeks and he drops his hand to his lap. “Uh, you had chocolate on your lip.”
“Thanks, Stevie,” Eddie mumbles. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna— I need a beer.”
He scrambles to his feet, stepping over Steve to get to the cooler. He nearly drops the beer when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at him, lips pursed and a tiny frown between her eyebrows.
Did she see Steve do that? Is she mad? Eddie wonders, averting his eyes and staring at the flames instead.
And more importantly— what the fuck is Steve playing at?
***
Eddie finally gets his answer about an hour later.
The four of them are sitting around the bonfire, drinking beer and talking about everything and nothing. Robin and Nancy are sharing a blanket they grabbed from Steve’s trunk because, despite the fire that’s still burning, the air has only turned colder as the night goes on. Eddie is sharing a log with Steve— or he was until Steve stood up to put on his Members Only jacket and sat down on the ground instead, leaning against Eddie’s leg.
Eddie didn’t question it at first, assuming that Steve wanted to be closer to the fire while still leeching some of Eddie’s body heat, which is fine by him. But then Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie’s calf and dropped his head on Eddie’s thigh, essentially cuddling Eddie’s leg.
That’s also fine with Eddie. At least until Steve’s hand starts rubbing up and down Eddie’s leg, his fingers occasionally coming in contact with bare skin where his jeans ride up and his sock rides down while, at the same time, his hair is tickling Eddie’s skin through the rips in his jeans.
He reaches for Steve’s hair, intending to move it away from his leg but the moment his fingers touch the strands, Steve shudders and melts under the touch. Eddie doesn’t have the heart to push Steve’s head away so he ends up playing with his hair instead, brushing his fingers through the strands.
It’s maddening. All of it— Steve’s head on his lap, his fingers in Steve’s hair and the small noises it drags from him, Steve’s fingers playing with his ankle bracelet and his wiry leg hairs.
Suddenly, Eddie feels hot all over, and it has nothing to do with the flames bathing them in red and yellow and orange. And when Steve tilts his head and kisses Eddie’s knee it feels as if he might burst into flames.
But when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at them with what can only be described as a scowl —a jealous scowl— it’s like being hit in the face with cold water. Cold water and a realization. The realization that Steve might be doing all this to make Nancy jealous.
Eddie doesn’t know why exactly. Maybe he’s ready to go public with their relationship and he’s trying to bait Nancy into accepting. Maybe he’s getting back at her for whatever happened with Jonathan when she was still dating Steve. Maybe it’s just a weird fucking kind of foreplay.
It doesn’t matter what it is, Eddie knows he doesn’t want to be a part of it.
So he pulls his hand away from Steve’s hair, and as carefully as he can, jerks his leg free.
Steve turns his head, looking up at Eddie with big confused eyes. “You okay, Eds?”
“I, um. I need to smoke,” he lies, scrambling to his feet.
Steve looks even more confused at that. “You can do it here, you know? We literally all smell like smoke already,” he says with a chuckle.
But Eddie shakes his head. “No, I- I gotta go, sorry, Steve,” he stammers out, tripping on the log as he hastily heads back to the van.
Without stopping, he digs a cigarette and hiz Zippo from his jacket, lighting it up as he walks. He hears Steve call out for him once, twice then nothing. Eddie pretends it doesn’t hurt that he didn’t come after him but he’s got Nancy, so why would he?
“Goddammit,” Eddie curses, running his hands through his hair with a frustrated groan, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.
It falls on the ground when Eddie lets out a strangled scream as Steve materializes out of fucking nowhere.
He hurriedly snuffs it out as he tries to get his heartbeat under control. “The bonfire wasn’t enough, Harrington?” He scoffs. “Are you trying to get me to start a real fire sneaking up on me like that?”
“I didn’t sneak up. I was calling for you.”
Oh. Eddie might’ve missed that from the blood rushing through his ears. “What do you want?”
“Why are you leaving? What happened?” When Eddie doesn’t answer, Steve’s face scrunches up. “Did I do something?”
Whatever Eddie’s face does at that is answer enough and Steve’s shoulders slump. “Shit, was that too much— I’m sorry, Eddie, I thought—”
“That you could use me to make your girlfriend jealous? Yeah, well, a heads up would’ve been nice,” Eddie says bitterly.
Steve jerks his head back as if he’s been slapped. “What?”
“I’m just saying that I probably would’ve said yes if you asked. At least then I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, y’know?”
“I- I don’t know, Eddie, what are you talking about?”
Rolling his eyes, Eddie asks, “You were trying to make Nancy jealous by being all over me, yeah?”
Steve splutters. “Uh, no?”
Eddie frowns. “So what? You guys are in an open relationship or something?”
“We’re not in any kind of relationship!” Steve says, his voice loud and hysterical at this point.
“Please!” Eddie scoffs. “You two have been inseparable since she and Jonathan broke up! It’s obvious you’re back together!”
“We’re not, Eddie, we’re friends! Yeah, we’re closer than we were before but that’s just because—” he hesitates.
“Because?” Eddie prompts with an impatient hand gesture.
Steve sighs, glances over his shoulder to where Nancy and Robin are and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, what the hell!” He says to himself. “We got closer because we both realized we have a crush on our best friend.”
Eddie’s nose wrinkles. “Buckley?”
“No,” Steve says, dragging a hand down his face. “Well, Nancy does. She has a crush on Robin and I hope she’s telling her right now and that she won’t care that I just outed her to you—” His eyes meet Eddie’s and they’re open, vulnerable, hopeful. “But no, I don’t have a crush on Robin, Eddie, I have a crush on you.”
Eddie blinks. Then he blinks again. Then he pinches his arm hard but the world doesn’t fade away, he doesn’t wake up, he’s not dreaming. This is happening.
“Me?” He asks in a small voice. Steve nods. “So all of that— you weren’t making Nancy jealous you were—”
“Making a move on you, yeah,” Steve admits shyly, hanging a hand from his neck.
“Oh,” he says as he recontextualizes everything that has happened in the last couple of hours— hell, in the last couple of weeks. “Oh,” he repeats. “For what it’s worth it would’ve worked. If I wasn’t, you know, an idiot.”
Steve chuckles softly. “Well, good to know.”
Eddie bites his lip and goes on, a little nervous. “Yeah, and since I’m not an idiot anymore, if you wanted to like, make another move right now, I wouldn’t storm off or yell at you or—”
Eddie’s words are cut off by Steve making his move, which consists of him cupping Eddie’s cheeks, guiding his face to his and catching Eddie’s lips in a kiss.
Eddie stands frozen only for a split second before he loops his arms over Steve’s shoulders and kisses him back, feeling a fire bigger than any bonfire they could’ve built blaze wildly in his chest.
Steve dragging his teeth across his bottom lip only fuels the fire and causes Eddie to make a punched-out groaning sound that Steve chases with his tongue, deepening the kiss in a way that makes Eddie’s knees so weak they threaten to give out.
Before they do, causing Eddie to fall on them for a third time that night, Steve slows the kiss down to a full stop, ending it by nuzzling their noses together.
“You still are by the way,” Steve says.
“Huh?”
“An idiot,” he says, kissing the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I can’t believe you thought I’d use you to make Nancy jealous!”
Eddie groans, dropping his head on Steve’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”
Steve wraps his arms around him, kissing his hair. “Nope.”
“Yeah, I deserve that,” he says, nuzzling Steve’s neck. He jerks his head back as he thinks of something— “Wait, if Nancy wasn’t jealous then what’s with all the scowls and the glares?”
“Oh, she was jealous. Of me. For making a move on you while all she did was share a blanket with Robin,” Steve says with a laugh.
And Eddie can’t help but giggle at how ridiculous this all is. “Should we make her jealous a little more?” He asks, grabbing Steve’s hand with a wicked grin.
Steve nods, intertwining their fingers together and letting Eddie drag him back towards the bonfire.
***
They find Robin and Nancy making out next to what’s left of the fire, wrapped up in the blanket and each other. Quietly, they make their way back to the cars, climbing into the back of Eddie’s van, kissing until the sun comes up.
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wakeup01 · 1 year ago
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A Matching Pair
Goddammit. Why does he always have to argue about it. Can’t he ever put himself in my shoes and try and be more understanding.” I mumble to myself as my boyfriend fades out of sight down the empty train car. I sigh and stare out the window of the train, listening to the world outside shudder past.
“This space free?” Comes an excited voice, I look up to see a fit young guy casually drop onto the seat opposite me. He looked no older than 22 and was outfitted for some kind of sports game, with a designer tracksuit sagging off his hips, a red jersey that pressed against his lean stomach and a glossy puffer jacket.
“Uhhh…not really.” I remark, side-eying his trendy permed hair, perfectly styled and faded. I had never really understood the appeal of…‘fuckboys’; rich but devoid of personality - aside from the prepackaged one they adopt. In this case even I had to admit that he was rather attractive, in a blunt, dumb ‘grammer is for losers’ sort of way. There was a casual air of confidence in the way he carried himself, narcissistic? Sure, but maybe a little ego didn’t hurt, especially in the bedroom.
Shame he obviously wouldn’t be a sub - he’d look nice around my cock, although I can picture my boyfriend tripping over himself to placate his every whim. The perks of this ‘open relationship’ we had seemed increasingly one sided. Ugh. I’m quickly reminded of our argument, and my indignation wins out over my misguided lust.
“Mate, you look proper mad.” He chuckles, kicking off his trainers. He stretches out his legs and rests them on the seat next to mine.
“Name’s Dominic and I’m not….mad.” My voice trails off.
“Uh oh. Who is she then blud?” He gestures at me with his hands, rattling the horde of bracelets that buried his wrists.
“He.”
“Pftt. I should ‘av guessed. It’s all the same to me. I’m Trev ‘btw’. You off to the gay convention?” There’s a wry smile that is hard to be angry at, in fact I feel strangely comfortable with him. He seemed like a good listener.
“Funny, but yes. Meeting our friend Nate there.” I cross my arms in a futile attempt to appear more dominant.
“Wait, they have those now?” My eyes squint at him. “Just fucking with you. I got a game the next town over. I’m a player.”
“Wow, you don’t say.”
“Maybe you’ve seen me play on the tele eh?” He puts on a face and flashes his shiny white teeth proudly.
“Sure…” He was in a professional team? Like I’d know.
“So spill, what’s the issue with yuh ‘boy’? His ‘bussy’ too small?” My mouth begins to move before I really get the chance to think about what I’m saying, or why I’m telling him at all.
“Ugh. He just never tries to see things from my perspective, he always expects me to play the ‘top’. About everything. And I don’t share his weird kinks.”
“TMI. Oh. You’re the top? And your name is Dom? ‘Lolz’. Is your boy called SUBastian?” He laughs mischievously. His brazen use of text speech was strangely endearing, something I thought impossible.
“Dominic. And no, his name’s Addy.” I correct, flatly.
“Uh huh. Yeah, and have you tried the same? See things from Addy’s point of view. Find equal ground right. Maybe I can help. It’s like when there’s a disagreement in our footy team.”
“I don’t think it’s quite the same thing…”
“Should give it a try Dom, see how it feels to be the sub. It can be fun to let someone else take charge. Easy too when you don’t overthink it. Go on, just lay back and relax.” Yes, I’m sure this will solve all our problems. I humour him anyway, resting my back against the seat’s cushion. Ten seconds pass in silence, just the hum of the train carriage throbbing rhythmically.
“This is stupid-“
“Shush.” Trev stares at me intently, trapping my eyes into his own. I don’t think to look away, why would I. He continues talking, I hear the words floating past me but don’t register what they are. It feels like minutes until his fingers snap in front of his face, and the spell is broken. He just smiles and waits expectantly for me to reply. His legs move from the seat next to me and I follow their movement.
“I—I guess.” I stutter, unsure of what I’m replying to, feeling slightly dizzy, like waking from a dream. For some reason my eyes seem drawn to his feet, now resting on the edge of my own seat, fidgeting between my thighs. I didn’t notice that they were sockless before… or that they were so big.
“Deeper.” He snaps his fingers again. My eyes are feeling so heavy, it’s becoming harder to keep them open. “Picture your boy sitting in your place. See it in your head.” I think about him, see his dreamy smile, like the one growing on my face. “So easy.” Trev repeats, my head nodding absently to his words. He adjusts and pushes his feet against my groin. Hmmf. I should tell him to stop. To stop…
“Uhh.” The dull sound leaves my lips instead of the words I wanted, the rubbing sensation fraying the edges of my thoughts.
Trev’s fingers fiddle at his pockets. He pulls out a vape stick and blows a huge bubblegum flavoured cloud of smoke into my face. The fumes flow through my open mouth and circle my head. His hands appear to be moving in slow motion, like everything was suddenly at half speed.
“Being in charge is exhausting huh. Much better to just relax and follow along, like your boyfriend would.” Yeah, he would probably do whatever this guy asked him to.
“I bet he’d rub my feet If I told him to.”
“Yeah.” I agree, wrapping my hands around Trev’s chunky feet - he definitely would. I run my fingers up and down his sole, picturing my boyfriend in this situation.
“Eyes up here fam.”
*snap*
I look back up at him, falling into his stare once more, entranced. My hands continue to massage him, passing over the curves and arches of his large feet. The shame of doing this in a public place completely lost on me. “Good foot boy.” I fail to hold back a moan at the validation. Is this what it feels like? It feels…nice, good.
I sense my body start to slowly lean forward of its own volition. Trev loudly exhales, his lips pursing. Another dose of bubblegum mist fogs my view. “What else would your boy do?”
“Don’t know…”
“Bet he’d love to sniff my lush feet hm?”
Probably, I think. He was way more kinky than me about such things. This guy’s feet were quite ripe after all, maybe if I got a bit closer…no—no what am I doing? I begin to pull back when his intense eyes narrow at me.
“It’s okay. I can see you want to take a whiff too. Boy.” His inflection changed on the last word. There was something about the way he said it. Powerful.
“My—my boyfriend will be-“ My voice cracks.
“Put your fucking nose here. And sniff my cheesy feet.” He orders, accentuating each word, dropping all pretence - his finger snapping and pointing down.
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It’s like a switch being pressed in my head. The words cut like a knife right through any lingering hesitation. My face lowers and inhales deeply, sucking up his harsh scent.
“Yeah.” I mumble from behind his feet in a daze.
“Yeah what?”
*snap snap*
“Yes sir.” I don’t know why I said it, it just slipped from my lips and then it was too late to take it back. Too late to stop, as my face leans down to his foot like a magnet. Too late to pretend I didn’t want a sniff, my nostrils breathing the thick musky air.
“A good start boy.” I tentatively take a couple more whiffs, a part of me still attempting to hold back, feeling self aware. He rolls his eyes and shoves his feet forcefully into my face, my nose pushed snugly between his big toe. His stench shrouds my head like a cloud. The concept of ‘disgusting’ faded to nothingness.
“Salt and vinegar flavour, your fav.” Trev asserts. It became true the moment the words left his lips. Salty and eye watering. My favourite. My cock liked it too apparently.
“You look so much better under me, worshiping me - where you belong. Keep going.” And I did. Breathing deeply, in and out. In and out. The heat from his foot radiates outwards, travelling down my body, seeping into my skin. “Wouldn’t your boy agree to be at my feet at all times If that’s what I wanted?” He—I would. I want nothing else.
“Of course sir.” I say, unaware that the words would seal my fate.
Something is changing. A shift in weight. My whole body starts to feel lighter, filling with air. My skin itches, a rash forming across it’s surface - bleaching every inch an even, clean white. The rash crawls down my chest, flattening my modest set of abs, leaving everything it touches incredibly soft, absorbent and flexible. Tiny strands of fuzzy cotton fabric poke out from each pore; the changes showed no sign of stopping.
Everything is happening all at once, alarms try and go off in my brain but it’s preoccupied swimming in a musky drunken stupor. My feet seem to leave the floor as my form inexplicably shrinks, the length of my arms folding inwards as my body simplifies.
“Look at you bruv. You were easy as fuck.” I gaze up at him, his smug face towering over me, looking so far away. A puff of vape smoke floats down towards me, particles dissolving on my cushioned skin. The sweet aroma mixes with the smell of his sour feet. “Just one look into my eyes and you were done. Get socked bro.”
Trev started to appear bigger and bigger, his feet dwarfing my new size, now taking up my whole view. It was like my essence was being pulled around his foot. My mouth opens and his toes slip effortlessly inside, stretching me out and making themselves at home. The rest of his foot follows, his ankle resting at my opening. It sets off my gag reflex momentarily, before feeling perfectly natural, like I was tailor made for his foot.
“Sorry bud, they’re a size 13.”
The taste of his potent sole explodes into me. I’m violently shaken out of my trance-like haze, the world around me speeds up. I try and desperately pull away, lucidity returning like a slap to the face. Why am I on the floor? Why is his foot in my mouth?! Oh shit oh shit!
“Get socked!” Trev yells enthusiastically. “Get fucking socked!”
Control is slipping away. My skin pulls taut around his foot, the fabric digging between his toes. It feels as though every part of me is pressed against him, his warmth surrounding me. My new shape settles into place, defined by his smooth curves.
I can’t move my ‘body’ at all, but all my senses still persist…somehow. My blurry vision clears, a sudden shift in view makes me disoriented. It’s as if I have a pov of the room from the bottom of Trev’s foot, he lowers it to the floor and my worldview erratically drops to carpet level before going dark. The material of the carpet brushes against me, the strange sensation is embarrassingly pleasing; bringing attention to the absence of my cock. Relief now seemed impossible.
“Socked. Man, I love that initial freshness. Tbh, it makes the inevitable even more fun.”
He pushes the weight of his foot into me, his sweaty soles sticking to my tight fabric body. It feels humiliating to be literally stuck on the ground. His stench clings to me, soaking me in his foot musk. The imprint of his toes yellowing my surface. It’s like having his foot down my throat, perpetually swallowing his mind numbing sweat.
“Mmm that’s good, you hang so tightly. A perfect fit. Hope you like sucking on my rank fucking toes. Cuz now you’re just my stinky ripe sock. Fucking idiot. Can’t wait to get you worn in.”
That’s not possible, I can’t be a sock…it defies logic. This is a nightmare I’m about to wake up from, any second now…any second…
He pulls at me and stretches my ribbed opening up and over his tracksuit, stuffing the silky material into me.
“So much more… pliable.” Trev wiggles his toes and my body conforms to it’s every movement, lodging in between each one. I try and desperately struggle, do something. I manage to achieve a light wriggle that only helps pull myself tighter against his skin.
Trev lifts his foot and points it towards the window, the dark night air rushing past outside. A clear reflection echoes back. I stare at it in disbelief, wanting to blink the reality from my eyes. A caricature of my shocked face is crudely printed on the underside of the sock - trapped frozen in time, with the word ‘SNIFF’ sewn into the fabric. The material was already beginning to discolour. Logic or not, That’s all I am now - a cheap white sock. His sock. An object.
“Basic as fuck boy makes basic as fuck sock. Lit.” He points out, smirking in the reflection while he checks out his new kit. Trev puts his feet back up on the seat, letting me watch the empty space where I had been sitting - back when I was more than just his property.
“Enjoy the view, while you can cheesy. You’re going to spend most of your time staring at the floor, or the inside of my fumigated sneaker.” What joy. I hadn’t even thought about that, about what comes next. Surely he didn’t plan to keep me like this? “Hmm. I think the name Dominic is a bit too fancy for you now, how about…sock. Simple, to the point.” Trev steps me back against the ground, his heel slightly raised. “Suits you, don’t you think sock?”
Light footsteps thud from down the carriage, getting closer and closer. “Hey babe. I wanted to apologise, Nate thinks—who are you? Umm where’s my boyfriend?” Addy had returned, this was my chance.
I wanted to shout and cry out to him, to get his attention anyway possible. I conjured a barely audible rustle and then nothing. All it did was reinforce how small and subservient I now felt, forced to listen to my owner in silence.
“Oh he’s not gone far, cutie. Sit.”
I hear my boyfriend stammer from above. All it took was one compliment and he turned to putty. In most cases it was endearing, but right now I needed him to be anything but agreeable.
I feel the weight on me shift. I glide through the air again, Addy’s expression coming into view across from me, from us.
“He’s…” Addy looks me over curiously.
“Yep. He got socked.”
“Gosh. That’s…hot.” His cheeks blush.
WHAAT! You’ve got to be kidding me! Damn, why did he have to be so kinky when I need him to rescue me. I can recognise his horny face a mile away.
“Now it’s your turn. Look at my eyes.” Trev’s voice taking on a more serious tone. Addy’s eyes dart up, quickly becoming ensnared by Trev’s hypnotic gaze. No, please snap out of it. “Good, keep looking. Relax. Let me give you the deets. In a few minutes you’re gonna have the privilege of having my foot up your arse, sucking up my sweat as a thin piece of fabric like your bf. You’ll be my sock puppet, controlled completely by my foot. You can already feel my toes pushing at your mind. You want it. Say it.” Trev waves me back and forth, hypnotically.
“But…mmm,”
“Say it.”
*snap*
“I — I want to be your smelly sock puppet. Pleaseee Master.” He moans in a trance.
“Course you do.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Addy’s shorts were noticeably tenting, a wet spot forming at the tip. He was getting off on the idea! “Sock puppet. Look at your boy, read the word sewn into him. You know what to do.”
Addy’s head leans towards me, eclipsing my vision. His huge nose presses up against me, his eyes dilating. I can feel his wavering breath brush at my cotton skin. He did exactly what the sock - me, said to and sniffed. The hesitant whiffs quickly devolve into enthusiastic huffing.
“Babeee. Hmmf. You smell so niceee. Mmmm.”
“That’s an obedient sock sniffing sock puppet.” Trev assured him. ”Now onto the other one.” Addy moves away from my view, I can only see him shuffling at the edge of my narrow locked vision. “Ready to join him?”
“Yes masterrrr.” Addy’s voice slurs monotonously. “Enter me and take control. We’re both yours.” Like hell we are!
“I want you to lick this foot clean like a dirty dog before it becomes your new home.” I hear him start to slobber all over Trev. “Good puppet. Get socked.”
The sound of my boyfriend licking and moaning in heat continued for what felt like an eternity. There was nothing I could do but be suspended in the air like my owner deemed appropriate.
“It’s time to become a puppet. Turn around and spread that cute bubble butt. There we go, feel my foot enter your rear, filling you up, fucking your tiny brain. Ufff. Tight. Fuck. Let’s stretch you out, nice and wide. Ahh that’s better. Your hole clamping around my ankle. Yeah. Becoming soft and flexible. A sock puppet. A sweat guzzling, empty-headed, dirty filthy sock puppet.” I can just about see Addy’s head, craning back in pleasure as he’s foot fucked.
“Butt feels…Hnng my—my body…” Addy pants desperately.
“Now belongs to my fat fucking foot. SOCK. PUPPET.
“Pu—puppet.” Addy’s bobbing head pulls out of sight, compressing around the invader inside him.
“Sock puppet. Surrendered all free will. Sock puppet. Commanded by feet. What are you?”
“I’m a sock… a sock puppet. Mmmmf…I’m a soooommfff.”
His voice goes silent. I can only assume he’s turning into a perfect match for Trev’s other foot. The thought horrifies me, but also gets me a little excited. I glimpse a pristine white shape shudder next to me. Trev sits up and places both feet flat on the ground, in order to admire his new additions to the collection.
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“Hell yeah. You two make the cutest pair. Glad I could help bring you ‘together’. And no more worries about disagreements ‘lmao’. Go on, kiss and make up.”
Trev bends his legs and points me at Addy’s new form, his lustful face captured on the socks sole; the word ‘LICK’ was immortalised above. I was for sniffing and he for licking, it made a bizarre kind of sense to my addled brain. He brings his feet together and rubs us both against each other, our ‘faces’ pressed closely. My mind blurs, the friction bringing searing white hot bliss. God it’s amazing. He was so soft! Please more. More! Babe. Don’t stop. Get socked!
Trev eventually pulls us apart, I watch the folds of Addy’s loose fabric pull taut, finalising his transformation. He made a cute sock, just like me. We were now on equal footing. Wait, what am I thinking? This is insane, I don’t want this! Was I stuck like this? Would it be really so bad? No, stop.
I realised that the smell was permeating my thoughts, twisting them. Knowing that didn’t change how good it felt, how good his touch felt, his musk.
“Don’t worry, when I go to replace you I’ll be sure to sell you on as a pair to one of my foot sluts. Let’s be honest, as socks go, you’re kinda ‘mid’ at best.” The comment did nothing to reassure me about turning back to human. “Man you gay nerds are so dumb, none of you can resist my scent. It’s like you want to be part of my fit. Even my sneaks gave more of a struggle than you two lovebirds. All I need now is some new undies to stretch over my ass and hug my fat dong and balls. Know anyone?” Trev pauses and then laughs to himself.
As each minute passed my mind became more subdued, it was relaxing, becoming content. The part that was angry, defiant, was shrinking. A bubbling happiness was slowly expanding within me. I did my best to push it back but with my senses overwhelmed, it was a seemingly losing battle. Addy was probably already loving every second of it.
“Let’s have some fun. Which one of you will make a good cum sock? Who am I kidding, you’ll both be great. But for now…”
He peels me free from his foot, holding me limply in the air. For a moment I feel incredibly empty, already missing his warmth. The disappointment is short lived; I’m quickly filled out as he pulls me over a stiff pole. His cock. His glorious thick shaft. I’m forced to swallow it whole, it’s tip poking at my edges.
With his hand around me he wanks me furiously, using me as sleeve. ‘Don’t enjoy it’, I shout internally. This sucks. This sucks! It’s hard to ignore the pleasure it brings the both of us. Oh god I’m being stretched out by him completely. It sucks. Sucks… this…mmm. Faster. Go faster! Fill me! Cum inside me, mark me as yours!
My sexy owners pumping reaches a crescendo, now with both hands thrusting me up and down. One final tug. A grunt. A twitch. Thick copious splooge unloads right into me, flooding my interior. His fuckboy seed is absorbed into me, my cotton body sucking up every drop. A dark patch spreads across me and crusts over as it dries. The bitter taste lingers, like the cum was sat on my tongue.
“Fuck me, that was sweet. But enough fun.” Trev pulls me off his dick and janks me back over his foot, his toes push against my cum stained dark spot, still damp.
Trev’s phone starts to ring with some loud trap song. “Trev. Yeah. Yeah mate. Course, you fucka. Be arriving soon. Mint, I got me some new gear too. Ace. Uh huh…K, chat tomorrow.”
What would have normally been inane babble to me made a concerning amount of sense, like his identity was somehow rubbing off on me.
He stands up, dragging something over to him with his other foot. I’m lifted high into the air, tauntingly hovering over his beat up shoe. I can’t help but look down at my future smelly prison. I don’t think my mind can take any more…
It didn’t help knowing that the sneaker was once a guy, now heavily used. It was like seeing a glimpse of my own fate. Mmmm.
“Let’s get you acquainted.”
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I see the trainer hurtle towards me as I’m lowered to the floor. My edges slide effortlessly into the pungent confines of his sneaker, the thick stale air engulfing me. I’m pressed against the stained sole and squelch against it’s moist surface; the outline of his foot clearly indented into the material. My vision goes pitch black.
The stench is blasted at me from all sides. Fuck me. I don’t stand a chance against it, my mind is drowned beneath its waves. Sinking below as new, more simple desires emerge.
There’s a muffled sound of an announcement playing overhead. “Guess this is where we get off lads. I should probably warn you, me mates and I have a footie match tomorrow. And I don’t plan on removing you, after that I expect you won’t even want to be turned back. Not that I ever planned to. I’m sure you stinkheads don’t object? Sorted.”
I didn’t object, in fact, I— I think I was looking forward to it. My printed face would probably be completely yellow by the end of it, as it should. Mmm.
The weight of his foot lifts as I feel myself rise from the floor and then just as quickly I’m pushed back down to the ground. My boyfriend being subject to the same in tandem. A second later and it happens again and then again, each step the strength of his body squishes me against the shoes insole, which sticks to my surface. And each time, my brain is submerged in a pleasant sweaty haze, scattering whatever dim thoughts I had left. The weight flattening my mind to sodden mush. Rewarding me for fulfilling my role as his smelly, mindless sock, us both huffing at our owners beautiful addictive feet. Together.
“Maybe we should stop off at that gay convention first, see how many noses we can get pressed against you two while you get sucked dry. Plus, we could find that friend of yours to get wrapped around my big sweaty butt.”
Yeahhh…I bet Nate would make a perfect pair of fucking briefs.
581 notes · View notes
y3ager · 1 year ago
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STORYTIME I (26 F) FUCKED MY SUPERSTAR CLIENT (24 M) AFTER MONTHS OF SEXUAL TENSION!
— ‘i’m a manager for a pretty big music label and my client is the biggest dickhead in the world but i fear i fucked him after one of our usual arguments.. 😵‍💫’
eren y. x black!fem!reader
tags: modern au, smut, porn not much plot, hate(?)sex, cunnilingus, cowgirl, reader gets called ‘mama’ and ‘boss’, unprotected sex, mild choking, musician!eren, manager!reader. minors do not interact.
my first collab entry MAKE SOME NOISE YALL WTF!!! but no seriously thanks so much to @k9nto for letting me join your event i had a blast writing this! hope you all enjoy! 🤭
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YOU’VE ENCOUNTERED SOME annoying people in your life. in kindergarten, a boy taunted you by picking up one your fallen hot pink knocker-balls and refusing to give it back to you. in high school, some chick named tiffany ripped down all of your junior class president posters that you spent weeks designing and printing out on the highest quality paper. your college advisor had been completely useless, you’d still be dragging yourself through your bachelor’s degree if you didn’t stay on your toes and realize the classes you were dropped in were a waste of time. but all of these people, and many more that have slipped your mind, shaped and molded you into the woman you were today. strong, tenacious, independent, a go-getter who never gave up and thus was able to reap her hard work, in the form of three nice crisp degrees and a never pitiful bank account.
but eren yeager, grammy award winning singer, songwriter and musician, with multiple weeks spent at the top of the billboard hot 100 and 200 charts, millions of units sold worldwide, and stadiums packed to the brim, took the fucking cake.
you were warned he’d be difficult. every manager he’s assigned quits before one of them ends up in a body bag. none of them have a single nice thing to say about him, and he finds that hilarious.
for better or for worse, you took the challenge because you’re a sucker for them. nothing in life comes easy, and you figured that the managers before just didn’t come hard enough. maybe eren’s fame and status made them falter, but such a fate wouldn’t befall you.
you dragged him to his magazine shoots, you kept his mouth in line during interviews, you kept his socials clean. he was never a second late to rehearsals and recordings. he was a reflection of you, and if you were perfect goddammit he was going to be too.
until today.
“i’m not putting in another extension, eren. the label is starting to get really irritable. we need to go to the studio now.” you furiously swiping along your ipad, pacing around the singer’s deluxe hotel room. while you’re dressed for the day in clean crisp clothes, sharp stilettos, and jet black lace front expertly melted and laid, eren’s still in the bed. the covers are everywhere, his shirt is next to a couple pillows on the floor, and he’s laying on his back eating a croissant from room service, paying you absolutely no mind. it takes everything in you to not chuck your device at his big head. “i’m serious. get. up.”
“and i said i’m not,” he mocks your assertive tone, voice oozing in sarcasm. “going.” he coughs, obviously faking. “my voice hurts. can’t make those greedy bastards money if my vocal chords ache. they’ll live.”
“you are on a strict deadline this era. if you want to catch award season, this album needs to be finished and dropped in the next month. amidst the press tour, your window of recording time is dwindling fast.” dates in your digital calendar glare at you, red and angry. every time you check something off your to do, ten new things pop up. you feel your jaw clenching, teeth gritting together uncomfortably.
“i’ve won enough awards. i don’t care. i’m not getting up.” eren finally raises up from the bed, narrowed green eyes meeting yours. it’s fire against fire, an unstoppable force that is a manager determined to do her job versus an immovable object, a musician who’s not budging from his spot. “it’s my album. it’s my music. i finish it when the fuck i get ready. that label will burn before they drop me.”
“if you don’t follow contract, they will drop you. they put a lot of money into you-”
“money i made back for those dumbasses-!”
“they are your bosses, without them-”
“they need me way more than i need them-!”
“get,” you toss your ipad over to a small couch, storming over to the bed. you snatch the edge of the covers and yank hard. enough is enough. if he won’t get up, you’ll make him get up. “the fuck out of this bed, eren, now!”
“you need,” the cover is yanked back, tugging you forward along with it. you lurch momentarily before righting yourself upwards, leaning back to give yourself more leverage in this childish tug of war you find yourself in. “to calm the fuck down, ___. i’m not going and that’s fucking it.” eren may be lean, but he’s toned like a MMA fighter, muscles rippling under tan skin when he calls upon them. another tug and you topple onto the california king bed, one expensive heel sliding off your foot and falling across the room.
your heads snaps up from the covers, brow furrowed deep in anger. “stop being so fucking difficult, you moron!” emotions welling, you grab one of his arms, preparing to drag him out of this bed. your to do list is a nagging itch on your brain that by the grace of god you are going to scratch. you’re not about to let this bad-with-authority dickhead best you when all he has to do is record a fucking vocal.
“oh, we’re doing this?” easily, too easily, so easily that you register your back hitting the soft bed before you realized he even grabbed you back. he pins you down easily, slightly calloused hands grip your upper arms firmly, pushing them down. he places his legs other either side of your hips so yours are forced in between them, but doesn’t keep you from writhing to free yourself. “whatever fucking—stop doing that—chip you have on your shoulder, you need to fucking solve it because shit’s not going your way today. i’m not going and that is final.”
the tussle leaves you two of you panting, eyes boring into each other’s. eren’s long chocolate brown hair is disheveled not only from a night’s sleep but from this impromptu wrestle. small beads up sweat trickle down his naked chest. your writhe again, and he presses down against you, a synonymous hiss sliding through both of your mouths.
“i hate you, eren.”
“whatever helps you sleep at night, ___. looks like you wanted an excuse to feel up on me.”
“oh, like you wanted an excuse to hump me like a mutt?”
there’s another beat of silence as you two watch each other. eren’s hands tighten their hold just a tad before he presses his hardening length hard against your clothed cunt. against your better judgement, your head tilts back and a small moan fights against your bitten bottom lip.
eren hums lowly, his dick bulging against the constraint of his boxers. “hate me too much to actually fuck me, huh? i’m only worth a dry hump.”
oh how eren frustrates you. how he makes even the simplest things in life painstakingly difficult. how he makes you want to smoke ten packs of cigarettes after a day of dealing with him. but oh, how handsome he looks under the lights at photo shoots. how his deep, smooth voice reverbs in your ears. how his fingers move so deftly on his guitar, as if it’s merely an extension of his body. who wouldn’t fantasize about that late at night, him bending you over and snatching down your pants to fuck the stress out of you, or yourself knocking him down a peg and making him beg to let you cum inside.
“shut-” another roll of his hips makes you gasp. “up..”
“i want you, ___,” eren confesses. his hips don’t falter, his cock becoming hungry for release. “i want that pussy. i wanna fuck that little attitude out of you, can i? i see how you look at me and i stare right back.”
you shiver, hand rushing to undo your dress pants and feel more of eren’s dick against your dampening cunt. his hands work with your perfectly, yanking your pants down. it’s a whirlwind of clothes, your sweater, bra, your other shoe.
eren reaches up to grab your breasts, rolling them in his palms, squeezing the supple flesh, pushing them together. “oh, pretty girl. pretty fuckin’ tits.” leaning down, he kisses down your sternum, stomach, inching closer and closer to your center. he wastes no time grabbing your thighs and licking a nice, long stripe against your drooling cunt and sucking on your clit.
your back immediately arches up and your hands fly to grip eren’s hair, tugging at the locks and pulling him in closer so you can feel everything. “oh my god, eren.” the singer’s not shy at all, audibly sucking at you and reaching up to twist and pinch your pebbled nipples.
with another languid lick eren pulls himself away. he pulls his boxers down on and off, freeing his dick from the constraint. he rubs the thick, weeping tip up and down your slit, staring hungrily at the juices leaking out. the feeling of it makes you shiver in anticipation.
“mmm, mm-mm.” you push yourself up. “let me get ‘n top..” there’s a greedy look in your low eyes as you place your hand on eren’s solid chest and lay him down on the bed.
“take charge here too, huh?” your forwardness makes him chuckle as he watches you straddle his waist. “okay then. ride me.”
you brace yourself on your toes as his hand and yours grasp his shaft, directing it to your pulsing hole. you slide down gingerly onto him, his size quickly stretching you out. “ahh, fuck, eren. fuck…”
“you got it,” he assures you, one hand on your thigh as you sink lower and lower, taking him in inch by inch. he bites his lip at the wet tightness of your walls, squeezing and sucking him in. it makes him throw his head back, a couple of small pants escaping his mouth. “mmhm, fuck that pussy feels so good. take that dick, boss.” his hand raises only to land on your ass check with a sharp slap.
you start out slow at first, letting yourself adjust to the wideness of his dick but that quickly gets old. you’re soon addicted to the feeling of him fitting inside so perfectly. gripping his free hand in yours, you swivel and raise your hips faster and faster, effortlessly, desperate for that feeling of him pounding that oh so sweet spot. your juices slide down his length, the slap slap slap of your ass against his muscled thighs filling the room. “‘s so big, feels so good,” your voice slurs.
eren hisses from his spot under you, eyes trained on where you two connect. mouth slightly agape, he watches your cunt swallow him up and the fluid that leaks out. “yes, mama. keep fucking me just like that. feels.. f-fuckin’ amazin’…” his hands grab your plump ass cheeks, fingers digging in hard as he thrusts his hips up, driving the tip of his cock even deeper inside you and pulling a loud moan from you. “keep goin, mama, ‘m almost there, don’t stop, please..”
his pleading make you clench even tighter around him, and that feeling deep inside your tummy aches for release. you place a hand around his throat to better balance yourself, relishing in his low groan. your thighs quake and tremble, your hips meeting his eager thrust perfectly. “oh, my god; oh my god. i’m— shit!” you throw your head back in ecstasy, cumming hard enough on your client’s dick to leave you numb.
“aw, fuck, boss.” eren thrusts up to push his cum deep inside, holding you against himself to ensure a single drop doesn’t leak. “take it, take it..”
the two of you are left panting hard, bodies sweaty and gleaming with the afterglow of sex. you gingerly pull away, cunt left sore and spent from a round of sex months in the making. eren reaches over to caress your ebon lips, admiring the smooth, wet feeling once you roll onto your back. “no more attitude from you, yeah?”
“no more attitude from the man reduced to calling me ‘mama’ and begging to cum either, i’d assume.” your teasing laughter is cut off by him purposefully sinking three fingers deep inside you. “mmh…”
“mhm, sure.” roles reversed, eren climbs on top of you and stares down with green eyes aflame with lust through his tousled brown hair. “now i want to see what i can make you call me.”
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katyawriteswhump · 9 months ago
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Lie for me (steddie microfic)
Written for @steddiemicrofic February prompt, ‘Edge.’ Alt canon: Eddie is arrested soon after Chrissy’s murder, and his boyfriend, Steve, takes drastic measures to help him.
WC: 509 CW: None Rating: T
“You killed Chrissy Cunningham!” The interrogator slams his fist onto the table. “Say it, Munson.”
“I… I…” Eddie teeters on the brink. He’s endured questions for twelve hours, confessed only the truth. I wasn’t there when the crazy shit started. I ran because…
“You know what happened,” coos the interrogator. “Tell me. This’ll be over.”
Eddie stares at his trembling hands. He’s so tired, sweaty and mixed-up, he almost believes… Did I kill her?
“I… I…”
Officer Powell pokes his head round the door. The interrogator yells, “WHAT?”
“There’s been a development.”
Powell frogmarches Eddie to a cell. Eddie falls forward onto the bunk and silently screams. He’ll never see Steve again, or his friends, and… Goddammit, Chrissy!
He descends into an edgy slumber, reliving those final moments. In his nightmares, he becomes some evil puppet-master, pulling the strings that inflicted her horrible torture.
Voices revive him.
“Listen, son.” Powell uncuffs Steve—Steve!?!—and shoves him into the adjoining cell. “Next time you confess to homicide, check you don’t have an ironclad alibi, providing a taxi service to half-a-dozen kids.” Steve rubs his wrists, blinks as if dazed. “You cool off, while we decide what to charge you with.”
Eddie squeaks: “What the—?”
Seconds later, they’re pressed to the bars that divide their cells, attempting an uncomfortable approximation of a hug. They kiss, and it’s brief, warm, desperate.
“They wouldn’t let me see you!” Steve looks somehow furious, loving, and terrified, his eyes bloodshot. “I was verging on losing it. I couldn’t think what else to do.”
“You confessed to murder?” Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s. “I love you, you idiot, but you shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should you.”
“You don't know that.” Eddie shudders, extracts himself, turns to the shadows. “She… Chrissy… Shiiiiit! Maybe I did—”
“Now who’s the idiot?” Steve catches Eddie’s sleeve and clings. “They tore me apart in ten minutes. Okay, I was lying, but in any long interrogation, those a-holes screw with you, push you to the edge. Make you believe anything.”
Eddie stares at Steve’s wrist, bruised where he’s strained against the cuffs. Oh, baby. Who turns themselves in, then struggles anyhow?
“Don’t let them win!” Steve tremulous anger tricks Eddie into looking up. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
The faith in Steve’s wide eyes proves devastating. Eddie’s lower lip wobbles, as he experiences a wisp of hope.
They settle on the floor, bars between them, shoulders still touching. Steve falls asleep and his soft breathing, the comfort of his nearness, keeps Eddie’s demons at bay.
When Powell reappears, Steve wakes with a cry, tangles his fingers with Eddie’s. Eddie’s heart squeezes painfully. Is this the last time they'll touch?
“Killer struck again—while YOU were here, Munson. You’d got that big city interrogator already convinced of your innocence, so…” Powell opens Eddie’s cell first. “Don’t leave town, boys.”
They’re processed, released, and then they crumple into each other’s arms. “What just happened?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Steve’s steely tone defies the fast, nervy gasps that ruffle Eddie’s hair: “Now you’re coming home with me.”
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delirious-donna · 4 months ago
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In The Light Of Temptation [Gojo Satoru]
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an: Satoru has spent months trying to win your favour and suddenly he strikes lucky. Will he be the one to lead you into temptation, or perhaps it is he that will fall to your wiles?
pairing: Gojo Satoru x female reader
warnings: sloppy oral sex, spit as lube, some dirty talk, Gojo flips from being sassy and confident to being meek and flustered
Masterlist
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Desperation poured out of you, thick and heady, a potent musk like that of the fragrance from roses in bloom. All pretence at shyness had long flown out the window, and it was all his fault.
Satoru’s lips danced seductively against your own, a ghost of a smile teased and tormented the softest parts of your skin as he spread those far too playful and light kisses away from your mouth, down to your jaw and slender neck.
Your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt, tugging him nearer although he was already pressed flush against your body, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest as if it was your own breath.
“So impatient, baby… surely you can wait a little longer?” The question was framed by a mischievous glint in his celestial eyes, the words cooed so softly you nearly missed them over the rapid thump of your heart. Satoru tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, continuing with a chuckle. “After all, I’ve had to wait this long to get you back here.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Gojo Satoru had been chasing you for months, flirting shamelessly and doting on you in every way he knew how to gain your attention, and most importantly, your affection. He made his intent plain from the outset, staring you dead in the eye whilst expressing how badly he wanted you.
Goddammit… why had that been so hot? The firefight assertions and cheeky smile only served in making it even harder to resist him.
In the end, he was right, and you were here and willingly so. The allure of a man so determined to win you over, and through fair means, you hadn’t stood a chance.
Through low-lidded eyes you admired the soft peaks of his snowy hair and how they wilted beneath your eager fingers running through the length. Those mesmerising celestial blue eyes that never failed to steal people’s breath blinked slowly as he carefully watched your expression shift snd twist much like how your body reacted to being trapped against the hallway wall.
You were so pretty, and he was overjoyed to have finally won you over enough to give him a chance. That was all he had ever asked for, a chance to prove that he could be everything you wanted, everything you could need.
For all your hesitations and downright refusals of courtship, he had refused to give up. Satoru never took your rebuffs badly, he actually enjoyed each new excuse you offered when refusing his invitations to dinner, drinks, back to his place, a quick fuck—that part had been a joke. He was like a dog with a bone, and you liked that.
It was time to show him how tenacious you could be in return…
“I’m an impatient girl when I set my sights on something, Satoru, you know this. Don’t act like you don’t want me to do exactly this,” you said with a huff through your nose.
Satoru could only suppress his laughter so long, especially when you worked so relentlessly and methodically to free the erection that had pressed against the apex of your thighs for far too long. The all too familiar clatter of a metal buckle joined his faint giggles, the teeth of his zipper cut through the noise until you sighed in pure satisfaction at being able to press your hand behind the waist of his underwear to grasp at him.
You knew he would be impressive; it would be a sin for a man so tall and powerful not to pack a punch in the underwear department and you were not proved wrong.
The entire walk to his apartment, you could sense his discomfort. Continually adjusting and readjusting when you let your lips brush his ear, when you took up his hand and led it around your waist. Despite it all you were still surprised with the heavy weight as he filled your hand, his girth only making you drool between your thighs in anticipation of what it might feel like to give yourself over to him completely.
Slowly, you gave one careful pump of his length and pulled him from the confines of his clothes. Your gaze flickered to his face when he let out a low hiss from between clenched teeth, and it was your turn to give a breathy chuckle at the vein that throbbed in his temple. The cool air hit his skin, pearls of thick near opaque precum dribbled out of his purple tip to mess up your fingers, and you bathed in his lubrication, much to his delight.
You took your sweet ass time exploring his dick with a fascination that birthed a pink blush to his cheeks, leaving him stuck with wanting to lean his head back against the wall but refusing to miss a single moment of your exploration. Deft little fingers glided over every vein and ridge, his foreskin pulled tight to the base, and you fingered the connecting skin that made him squirm and his hips buck forward. Satoru thought he was a tease, but he was nothing compared to you and the realisation was both startling and exhilarating.
His cock was almost pretty, you mused whilst lowering to your knees and maintaining the eye contact that surged with electric sparks with the man now so high above you. You likened it to velvet encasing steel, and with each pass of your fist you became more adept at tightening to his liking, twisting just so to have his mouth fall into an oval of pleasure. Thumbing the fat purple head, you had long realised that he was more than ready for the silk of your mouth.
“You gonna taste as good as you look, Gojo?”
Satoru groaned, eyes rolling over as you tapped his weeping cock against your pursed lips until webs of saliva and precum connected between you.
“Satoru,” he stated with a grimace. “Call me Satoru or ‘toru… I’m not Gojo to you anymore, not when you’re two seconds away from sucking the soul outta my body.”
You grinned at his conviction and let your tongue loll out of your mouth with a glob of saliva ready and dripping towards his hot skin. Chasing it down, your spread the bubbles before surprising him by taking a mouthful without warning. He felt as if his heart stopped beating that very first moment your sweet lips wrapped around his tip. The swirl of your tongue prodded at his slit to taste the salty tang of his essence; your appreciative moans muffled by how full you were of him.
“Fuck… yeah. Waited so long—worth it. So worth it. I’d wait a hundred years… ah, fuck.”
He was babbling whilst his fingers dove into your hair, one hand pressed to the back of your head to help guide himself deeper into the wet warmth of your mouth. Every lick, every suck and every flick of your tongue was too decadent, too overwhelming and he struggled to breathe as you learned to play him like some miracle savant.
Satoru wanted to be a gentleman—truly he did—but you were making it damn difficult when you raised your eyes to observe him through your lashes. How could someone look so absolutely beautiful with a mouth stuffed with cock? He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hold you by the sides of your face and fuck your throat until he unloaded down your throat. Oh man, he was a mess.
Ultimately, he was able to restrain himself enough to set your own pace, a challenge ignited in your pretty irises that made him thumb your cheek gently, feeling the stretch of the skin as you worked him deeper and deeper into your tight throat. It was the sight of fat tears building along your lashes that was his undoing, the first one to fall had his hips jerking forward in a harsh thrust. You mewled around him, saliva bubbling and frothing at the corners of your lips, nails pushing little crescent moon indentations into his hips whilst he fucked your mouth and throat until you were gagging and spluttering around his dick.
“Just a little more, princess. Ah yeah… fuck you’re a goddess. Wait til I get my hands on you, gonna bury my face in your sweet cunt.”
Your thighs squeezed together, your feet teetering forward in the low crouch you were struggling to maintain, but he was there, and the strength of his hold would keep you safely where you wanted to be. The thought of riding his flushed face made you throb, clit constantly rubbing against the seat of your underwear, underwear which was moulded to the shape of your labia with how drenched you were. He’d look so good laid out with you on top, fisting his cock and drowning in the rivers of your arousal…
“Yeah, you like that? Get used to it, baby… my queen has a throne to sit on and that throne is my handsome face.”
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elvisfatass · 1 year ago
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Aim and shoot
Warning 18+ unprotected sex and firearms, y’know, Elvis doing Elvis things 💀
“You get your ass back here!” Elvis shouts at you. You sprint up the front staircase, down the hallway and back down into the kitchen. Playing tag on a rainy day in the house with him was so much fun, but he was starting to get heated, he didn’t like to lose and you know you’re getting him riled up.
You dart onto the landing and run to the back door, you hear Elvis start to descend the stairs “y/n if you don’t get back here there will be hell to pay little girl!” He says, his feet pounding down each step. You open the back door and slam it closed, and bolt into the curtains outside aunt deltas room, hiding yourself behind them.
You see his figure walk straight past you to the door and huff “where the hell’d she go?” He wonders out loud, a hint of annoyance in his voice. As he pads back through the landing, his feet landing softly on the plush green carpet, you jump out of the curtains, he jumps straight up in the air like a spooked cat. “GODDAMMIT GIRL WHAT’D I TELL YOU ABOUT SCARIN ME?” You giggle and run into the jungle room, he’s close behind you. You realize you have two options, jump the railing and fall down into the basement or go up, onto the shooting range, in the pouring rain. You go up, no sense in breaking your legs for a game. You bolt through the door and out onto the large deck, Elvis follows you still trying to win this game.
The rain hits you immediately, the cold November air mixing with it to make you shiver immediately. You were already soaking wet and you’d only been outside for three seconds. Elvis comes out, closing the door behind him. “Little girl I swear on the Bible of you don’t get your little butt over here you’re gonna get it.” He says, almost growling at you. You shiver but still manage to laugh at him while he pads toward you like a big cat about to pounce. “Not one more step, you’ve had your fun.” “But elvissss I don’t want the game to be over!” You giggle, seeing his hair wet and hanging around his face was making something in you heat up even if the wind and the rain were making your nipples so hard you could see them through your soaked shirt. You put your hands over them, shielding them from him. The second your hands went to cover your nipples he raised his eyebrows, knowing what was happening.
You ran to the railing, trying to escape him, when you got to the door, you realized he’d locked it. “Tch tch tch, sometimes little girls need to be taught a lesson,” the sultry tone in his voice making you come undone instantly. You knew what was about to happen and you weren’t gonna even attempt to stop him. He reached out and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to the railing that overlooked the backyard and Vernon’s smokehouse. “Little girls need to be shown how to shoot, to protect themselves from big scary bears,” he said in a groan. He was behind you now, his arms wrapped around you, his hands on top of yours that still covered your cold hard nipples. “Put your hands on the railing little girl.” “Yes sir,” you did what he said, you knew it wouldn’t fair well for you if you didn’t. You loved your hands to the railing and as you did his palms immediately groped your tits, feeling your nipples that were so erect now they were starting to be painful. Oh little one,” he said in a whisper, “these have to hurt.” He rolled your hard nipples with his fingers making you hiss and stammer out “they’re so cold daddy.” He rolls his hips forward into you, you’re both still fully clothed but the rain hasn’t let up any, your clothes are stuck to your body, showing every curve of yours, and you could feel the growing curve in his pants as he thrust into you again. His hands moved from your breasts to your hips, playing with the fabric of your pants, even though you’re freezing cold, there’s a warmth growing inside you, knowing what’s about to happen.
He rocks his hips into you again, as he pulls away he pulls your pants down. Revealing your ass to the sky. He fondles it for a bit before giving it a forceful slap, the rain making it sting more than usual. You let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “I told you little girl I’d make you pay if you didn’t stop running, now we’re gonna learn you something.” He says, smacking your ass again, you let out a wine, and he strikes you again. After a few slaps the rain landing on your ass began to sting, and it was making you whimper. “Has the little girl learned her lesson? Or does she need more?” He inquired, you turned to look at him, the tears in your eyes hidden by the rain. “More please, I need you.” He didn’t need to hear anything more, peeling his wet pants down just enough to free himself, he ran a finger into you, feeling the coldness of his hands matched with the cold metal ring, you moaned loudly, you could almost feel the grin on his face as he pumped his finger into you, he would slowly pull his finger completely out and then back in, and then all of a sudden he slammed his dick into you, making you scream out. “DEAR GOD” he slammed into you again and again, relentlessly fucking you over the railing. All of a sudden he stopped for a second, his dick still in you, he reached down into his rain filled boot, pulling out a pistol. “I told you little girls need to learn to shoot, if you hit the target I’ll let you cum on my dick.” He said in a moan, continuing his pace from before. He cocks the gun and aims at the target, at the same time you clenched around him, making him lose focus as he pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the slide on Lisa’s swing set. “Shit she’s gonna kill me when she sees that,” he groans still fucking into you. He hands you the gun and puts his hands on your hips, fucking himself as deep into you as he can go, your eyes rolling back into your head as he slams into you. “I-l-l-“ you stammer, trying to aim while getting pounded was no easy task. You cock the gun and pull, the bullet hitting the wall of the smokehouse. “Youre gonna have to do better than that if you want to cum,” Elvis groans down to you, his hips still slamming into you, you try to recompose yourself and focus, as well as you can atleast with him slamming his hips int yours. The sound of rain masking the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. You cocked the gun again, smack, focus, smack, you waited until he was about to go deep again and pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the target square in the forehead. You heard Elvis laugh “what a good little girl, you wanna come for me baby?” You could only nod your head, the cold rain and the overstimulation of sex mixed with the smell of gunpowder had you in a daze, you handed the gun back to him and he tossed it to the side, picking up his pace.
You felt yourself on the verge of release when he leant over and whispered in your ear “gonna make you a mama, you wanna be a mama?” Making you come completely undone, your legs shook as your whole body shivered from a mix of the cold and the orgasm hitting you like a freight train. As you started to see stars Elvis became more erratic, “f-f-fuckkkkkk baby,” he moaned out, spilling himself inside you. He slowly removed himself from you, “I think we need to go for a soak in the jacuzzi,” he winked at you, you both covered yourselves as well as you could, putting back on your wet clothes wasn’t easy. Elvis was leading you back to the door, down the stairs, through the house, and back outside towards the racquetball room. You ran down the path, through the door, and up the stairs, not stopping to rid yourself of your clothes, only your shoes, you sank into the hot water.
You both let out airy moans as your cold skin was instantly warmed again, you began to strip out of your wet clothes. Once you were both fully naked in the hot water you grinned at Elvis and said “so glad I have you to teach me how to aim and shoot.” You winked. “I can shoot something too,” he said wiggling his eyebrows at you.
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This one goes out to my best girl @ccab for being my inspiration for smut 😌
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jqmalikhsgib · 8 months ago
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bloom
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eddie groans as he feels someone tugging on his hair. he tries to keep his eyes closed, hoping that it’s all in his head.
“daddy?!”
eddie opens his eyes and looks to see his only son. his big brown eyes staring right back into eddie’s.
“what’s wrong, peanut?”
aster sniffles. “bad dream, daddy. sleep with you and mommy?”
eddie could never say no to his kids. he lifts his baby boy up and puts him between him and yn. aster cuddles up to his father.
“wanna talk about it, peanut?” eddie asked.
the little boy shakes his head as he puts his thumb in his mouth and falls asleep. eddie and yn are trying to get him to break the habit, but the little boy just looks so innocent and adorable, they’d allow him to get away with murder if they could.
eddie kisses the top of his sons head. he slowly falls back to sleep soon after.
when the sun rises the house becomes hectic! every morning is the same routine. the eldest kids came walking into their parents room, waking both eddie and yn, begging for breakfast, while the youngest starts welling, most likely hungry just as much.
when it’s just yn, wayne and her father come to help the best they can—or eleven depending if she has school or not—when eddie is home, he’d take care of the older kids, making breakfast, while yn takes care of the newborn babies, breast feeding them in the privacy of their room.
“daddy! daddy! daddy! are we having cakes?!” jasmine would scream at the top of her lungs. she has eddie’s personality through and through! she’s loud, adventurous, and playful. she got her mothers looks though—if you ask yn she’d say she’s eddie’s twin—eddie loves his daughter spunk. sometimes they’d get complaints from neighbors, but eddie couldn’t care less!
if his baby girl wanted to loud and obnoxious, goddammit he’s gonna let her be!
“yes, baby!”
jasmine cheers. pancakes are her favorite because she believes it’s actually cake. neither eddie nor yn would correct her. if it got her eating it, it’s a win for the young parents.
eddie chuckles at his daughter. he soon hears someone blabbering as he turns to spot yn holding the twins.
they’re six months today. eddie made a joke about them going to college the other night and yn lost it, tears spilling her eyes over and over. eddie had to comfort her and hold back a laugh.
“how are my favorite twins?” eddie kisses the top of their heads.
poppy and azalea just babble happily. eddie chuckles as he goes back to making breakfast.
when he finished he set the table while him and yn made plates for their kids. yn sets the twins in their bin before the rest of the family sit and eat together.
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during the weekend, yn and eddie normally take the kids to the park! with their oldest two, they’ve both got use to going out and playing due to being in preschool and kindergarten.
eddie chases his eldest daughter while yn sits with the younger kids and kept an eye on the others.
aster currently playing in the sandbox, while lunaria and lily play with their toys near yn, and the twins babbles in their stroller.
“mama, daddy caught me!” jasmine yells.
“he did?!” yn pretends to be shocked.
eddie chuckles as he walks closer to you. jasmine sits on your lap and kisses your cheek. she’s always been affectionate! eddie and yn both coo at her.
“you tired, baby?” yn runs her hands through her hair. she’s got eddie curls for sure!
“no.” she yawns soon after.
“we need to head home anyway, dear. uncle stevie and uncle dusty are coming over!”
jasmine loves her uncle steve and dustin! mostly because they give her treats every time they come around.
“really?!”
“yep! so, let’s get your brother and head out, yeah?”
“yeah, mommy! aster, uncle dusty and stevie coming! gotta go home!” jasmine yells to her brother. yn and eddie laugh at how excited she is.
“kay.” aster walks over to his parents. eddie grabs his hand before picking him up.
“wat we havin’ daddy?” aster curious on what’s for dinner as always.
“don’t know, ask mama!”
aster turns to his mom. “hmm, im thinking spaghetti and meatballs!”
“yum, mommy. love spesgettie.” aster states.
“i know you do, baby. come on, let’s get you all in you car seats.”
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when they get home, yn starts on dinner. eddie goes outside to take a business call. now that the twins were born, eddie is getting back into focusing on the band!
yn is very excited for what’s to come with corroded coffin! especially the money coming in. yn and eddie did alright, they had to with six kids!
eddie still getting money from the band here and there, but corroded coffin still had a little ways to go before they make big money!
yn was also getting money from her agency. she also gets paid every time she post on instagram. but again, it’s not big money!
yn and eddie are still staying in a three bedroom trailer house. they want to be able to get a bigger home so their kids won’t have to split up to share a room.
plus eddie wants yn to have her dream wedding! it’s what she deserves. the big white princess dress, flowers everywhere, all their friends and family, her perfect wedding!
yn tells him time and time again that didn’t matter. she lets him know she’d marry him near a dumpster if she gets to spend the rest of her life with him! but eddie wants his family to have it all!
yn knows it’s because of how he was raised—before wayne took him in and raised him to be the man he is today—
little eddie suffered so much. with his abusive father and his mom leaving him for dry, he didn’t want his family to suffer like he did! he’d be damned if he didn’t show his kids just how much they meant to him.
yn constantly letting him know he’s nothing like his father! their babies are loved and cared for like no other.
when eddie comes back inside the house, steve and dustin are right behind them.
“uncle stevie!” aster being the first one to spot them.
“aster! how’s my favorite little dude doing?!” steve picks him up.
“had bad dream, uncle stevie.” he pouts.
steve frowns. “oh, no! what happened?”
aster shakes his head as he rest it on steve’s shoulder. steve knew he didn’t wanna talk about it. instead he wanted to be coddled. steve would never deny him cuddles.
“daddy, uncle dusty gave me candy!” jasmine yells
eddie glares at dustin. he told him no candy for them until after dinner. “did he now?”
dustin gives his a cheeky smile. “can daddy see?”
jasmine shows her father the small handful of candy dustin gave her. he grabs them before kissing her forehead. “you know the rules, baby?”
“mhm, din first, then candy!”
eddie hums. “good! dinners almost ready. why don’t we all go wash up, yeah?”
“kay!” steve, eddie, and dustin help the kids wash their hands while yn sets the table. soon everyone sits at the table and enjoy dinner.
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eddie and yn put their kids to bed while steve and dustin sit in the living room waiting for them patiently.
when eddie comes back he heads for the fridge, grabs two beers, and one soda. eddie hands one beer to steve and the soda to dustin.
he sits on the couch and turns on the tv. yn comes in view and sits right next to her fiancé. eddie wraps his arms on the back of the couch as yn cuddles up to eddie.
“so, when’s the next big gig man?” steve asked eddie.
“next tuesday! headed to new york city.”
“dude, the big apple? you’re really making it, huh?”
eddie hums as he takes a sip of his beer. yn smiles at him lovingly. “before you know it, corroded coffin will be selling out tickets worldwide!”
eddie laughs. “lets not get ahead of ourselves, baby!”
“you, kiddin’ eds? you’re gonna be a legend! top of the world, dude! bigger than metallica.”
“okay, dustin, now you’re getting ahead of yourself!”
dustin shakes his head. “naw, eds! you’re a star!”
eddie smiles. truth is, he knows the bands making a name of themselves! sooner rather than later they’d have many streams on spotify, apple music, and many buying their cds and more! eddie is one hundred percent prepared for his life to do a complete one eighty.
and everyone else in this god forsaken town could kiss his ass! they all doubted him the moment he came out of the womb. he’s proven them wrong on many things!
they all thought he’d be a criminal, he a good citizen! they all said no one would love him, the smartest most prettiest woman fell for him! they claimed he’d be a shitty father just like his old man, he loves and cherishes all his kids! and they all say he’d stay white trailer trash who’ll amount to nothing, eddie is signed to one of the greatest rock legends out there!
eddie continues to prove everyone who doubts him wrong!
“when you make it big eddie, better not forget us!” steve states.
“oh harrington, i could never forget mister hair himself!” eddie smirks.
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a/n
thank you all for the love so far on bloom! really appreciate it <3
taglist is still open. just comment or message me privately
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jacks347 · 5 months ago
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Exactly one person asked for this but that was exactly one person enough so here y'all go, enjoy the rest of the channels and their high school tropes
Nomad
Caleb and Pack Mom - Childhood friends everyone assumes is already dating (They keep correcting people but secretly enjoy it cause they've been crushing on each other for years)
Connor and Lass - Club president and joined cause she liked him ("Come on, keep up! What are you staring at?" "You. I mean-!")
Deacon and Little One - Book smart introvert and street smart extrovert ("I've never failed a test in my life" "And I've knocked out a gang members tooth once. You tell me which one is more practical")
Chester and CM - Class clown and assigned tutor ("How do you put up with him?" "Remembering he's cute and a lot of caffeine")
Mitch and Lamb - Second generation rivals ("My dad said to tell you you won't win a second time" "Funny, my uncle said to expect it")
Beau and Chef - "Secret" admirer and knowing crush (Constantly leaves notes and gifts in her locker, she absolutely knows it's him but doesn't say anything even though she likes him back cause she thinks it's adorable)
Harlow and Captain - Frequently injured and assigned helper ("How'd you break your leg this time?" "Would you believe me if I said I fell off a roof?" "...goddammit")
GB
Yargwynn and Paradise - Lead in the play and stage manager (Paradise is actually a really solid singer but has paralyzing stage fright so they just stay as stage crew)
Mak and Darling - Delinquent and "I can fix him" girl (Frank is Mak's attempted wingman, he tries so hard to get these two together)
Guardian and Zed - Foreign exchange student and guidance helper assigned to them (Even better if Guardian doesn't speak the language well so they just stare when Zed is talking which makes him nervous and he rambles more, Guardian thinks it's cute)
Albus and Faithful - School flirt and class president tutoring him (Don't lie, you're imagining it now)
Hipswitch and Partner - Reluctant student and quiet art kid project partners (Partner talks through notes ripped from the corners of his sketchbook)
Pandora - Principal's kid that everyone is kinda scared of (Is actually really nice with just a hint of overblown ego, blame football star Odin for that)
Redacted
David and Angel - Quiet kid and popular girl fake dating (Angel dug herself in a hole and needs a fresh face to get out of it, David is only mildly reluctant cause he thinks Angel's pretty)
Asher and Babe - Football star and cheerleading captain (Don't ask, this is the one that inspired all the rest and now it's stuck here)
Milo and Sweetheart - Club presidents fighting for budgeting (SH runs the NHS chapter, Milo runs the drama club, both slightly resent each other because they need the funding)
Darlin and Sam - Frequently in detention and never in detention ("And just what has landed the school's goody goody in my neck of the woods?" "...I broke a guy's nose." "Hah, same.")
Vincent and Lovely - Superintendent's kid who ditches class and vigilant hall monitor ("Come on, can't you let it slide just this once~" "Do you want me to call your dad?" "No, no, I'll go back, please don't call him-")
Gavin and Freelancer - Academic rivals (FL actually takes it seriously, Gavin only pretends cause he loves to watch FL work)
I think I got all of them
I hope I got all of them
This is going to be a nightmare to tag-
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aoimeru14 · 11 days ago
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My take on a certain part of the McLaren fandom:
Every tag I open I see parasocial behavior.
Let's just touch grass and stop it. It prevents people from enjoying the sport without cringing (and, moreover, be happy for a team's success).
Why do I have to mute stupid tags (anti...) and block people in order to appreciate F1 in peace? Why do people do not understand that this is an highly mechanical/engineering sport and not only a driving sport? Why do you not understand that drivers are humans too?
But mostly, why does it seem so difficult to root for an entire TEAM?
Like, can't we JUST collectively appreciate everything that happened today? Just for once.
Like:
1. Oscar's sprint pole was a significant milestone for him and his career. (And i would love to see him win the sprint). Although he's still a rookie, he's developing into a really good driver (just needs one or two more years to settle down). Also, he has been maturing a lot since the start of the season and you can see that in the way he speaks about the whole "papaya rules" situation (still hate it, no team orders please... Just tell him to not crash both cars.) now compared to before the summer break. (please Oscar, do not let Mark Webber's delusions get into your brain. Thanks.) Also, nice helmet. Love it.
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2. Lando finally looks serene and at ease without succumbing to anxiety for other's expectations. (He also seems to not be willing to give a f*ck about WDC, good for him). I'm also really happy that he's back to eating/drinking before races and can finally enjoy driving again. (Noticed him eating an energy bar before the race in Mexico)
I also noticed that he, just like Oscar, matured A LOT this year, especially after the summer break. (Speaking of the elephant in the room: Despite the team's apparent indifference, I still think that WDC can be achieved if he chooses to. Even if they're not interested in helping him due to different priorities or contract clauses)
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And no, he is definitely a First Driver. If you think otherwise you are just living in a delusion, sorry. Telemetry, just like Math, is not an opinion.
Like, look at the last qualy time he did (and aborted) before pitting.
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(the green lap records are the last sectors performances set by the driver. Look at them. Just look.)
And yes, if he gets the points he deserves a WDC, if he wants to. He IS a really good driver.
Mentality is a concept as old (and toxic) as Helmut Marko. Please, don't be like him.
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3. We are finally seeing what the upgrades were for... Especially after whatever Austin was. (And yes guys, BOTH of the drivers have had the upgrades since Austin. Oscar just got 6 upgrades out of 7 at that time... Not none. Sorry to burst your bubble.)
And no, the upgrades DIDN'T actually upgraded the car's overall performances in Austin, you can clearly see that from the data. They purposely sacrificed it for the next races. See this:
https://f1i.com/news/521800-mclaren-explains-decision-to-delay-updated-floor-in-austin.html
Also they took risks with the floor too in Mexico. And no, they didn't give it to Norris because they hate Piastri. They give it to him mainly because he is more experienced and can provide useful data during practice while Oscar still needs to improve this skill.
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4. Also, the team has done a great job in finding a way to change the banned rear wing without compromising performance and exceeding the spending cap. Love it. (also they made a new beam wing configuration specifically for Interlagos and it, apparently, works really well!)
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I'm still not convinced that we currently have the best car on the grid (Ferrari looks really solid anywhere) but it's already better than the rocky start we got in US.
Not gonna lie, the moment they sprayed the WHOLE side of the car with the flow-vis in Austin i was like "goddammit, no improvements"... So I'm relieved that it wasn't the case (better sacrifice a race than discard the upgrades package entirely like Ferrari did in Silverstone).
WCC wise, I just hope that today they don't do something silly risking two MCL38 in a multi21. (And that we get some good strategies... Hopefully... Ok, I think I need to start pray some ancient god for that.)
And what If they multi21? Well, it would be really entertaining, but I don't think Lando wants to risk points/DNF for that. It's just not his style. (Mentality again? Go to bed grandpa... And take your medicines)
Let's be healthy fans, guys. Not parasocial delulus. We can rant about McLaren shenanigans TOGETHER.
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Like, YES, i'm still convinced that the strategy team/management team is doing a real poor job this year. Both in managing the races and managing the drivers. (Including Bortoleto's contract clauses...)
And last (and least?), I loved the Google chromed livery aesthetically... HATED it aerodynamically. You won't be missed. Sorry Google, I had to say it.
Thank you for reading my rant. Love y'all (even if you don't agree with me)!
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strawberryblondebutch · 11 days ago
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Any more analysis about Boston team wise or specific player wise?
Anon, you have given me a platform that I am going to use to push my agenda.
Let's talk about my favorite college player and the steal of the 2025 draft.
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This is Casey O'Brien, a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin. She's a captain this season, a center, and the combination of her cage placement and her earrings on the ice gives me anxiety. For reasons I do not understand, she has never been a USA Hockey darling - she's gotten some camp invites but has yet to appear at the senior level (outside of a very brief appearance in one Rivalry Series game), which is why her draft stock is so bad. Because, for whatever reason, she hasn't played the national team politics game.
So what's there to like about her?
I've talked before, in the context of the NHL and the PWHL alike, about things you can develop in the pros, things that come along with age, and things that you need to hope you come to the pros already knowing how to do. It's one of the reasons I liked the Jett Luchanko pick so much: the hardest things to teach (puck IQ and fearlessness) are the ones he has already developed at 18. Anything he needs to work on with his game will come along naturally - the kid is only 18. His speed and strength are both gonna keep going up for another decade. Contrast this with Jamie Drysdale, whose biggest hole in his game is that he freezes when he touches the puck. And that might take years to coach out of him. It's also my biggest problem with Fillier - she used to be a dynamic, instinctive player, and somewhere in the last two years, she lost that.
I do not think I am exaggerating when I say that O'Brien has one of the highest game IQs that I have seen at the NCAA level. Watch her over a full 60-minute game, and she is always exactly where she needs to be. As of my writing this, she ranks second all-time in NCAA program assists and is closing in on the record of 208. One of the reasons I suspect she hasn't gotten as much attention as her teammates, or the other members of her draft class, is because they score goals and she gets assists, which shows a fundamental misunderstanding of the role that a good playmaker takes on the ice. She can score when she needs to, but your favorite 50-goal scorers aren't getting those numbers without someone who can get them elite chances. O'Brien is also a face-off striker, which is critical in, well, any zone. You never want to start on the backfoot.
Her one flaw isn't much of one at all - she's small. She's really small for a center, clocking in at 5'4". That's half a foot shorter than Heise and Knight, who are more typical power forward centers. But, as with Kendall Coyne, being undersized gives you an explosive acceleration that bigger players don't always get as they drag more weight behind them.
So, we're looking at a high-IQ center who wins faceoffs, excels at setting up scoring chances for her teammates, and is smaller than her position usually dictates. Bonus points if she's undervalued relative to her peers and... goddammit I'm describing Claude Giroux aren't I.
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If you have not been personally victimized by the Philadelphia Flyers, first of all, I envy you. Second of all, this is Claude Giroux, longtime captain who we sent to a farm upstate (Miami, technically, then he escaped the farm and went home to Ottawa). G, while starting to show a little rust with age, is one of the most dominant playmakers of this era. Since moving permanently off the wing ten years ago, his career face-off rate is 57.4% - Patrice Bergeron, considered one of the best centers of all time, retired at a 58.2% clip.
G is also on the smaller end. The NHL website lists him at a very generous 5'11" - having seen him, I think he's closer to 5'9". While he can't physically overpower opponents the same way a bigger center can, he has that speed and acceleration advantage, which also contributes to his agility. G's ability to turn on a dime is what lets him always get to where he needs to be, which we see with OB.
So, if G is this good... why is he always put in the A-tier conversation, and not S-tier? Part of it is that, for a playmaker to thrive, those teammates need to execute those plays, and Giroux had the misfortune of playing for the Flyers, whose roster-building skills are best considered incompetent. Yes, I said best. OB has never had this problem, thus allowing her to put together 73 points in 41 games last year (1.78 PPG). The other reason G is so underrated? He had the misfortune of being in the same era - and division - as Crosby and Ovi, the two best snipers of their generation and two bona-fide Hall of Famers. His less-flashy, more cerebral skillset receded into the background against their instant stardom, the same way that OB has dropped on draft lists against consensus 1OA Abbey Murphy, a USA Hockey darling with a reputation that precedes her.
Whoever gets OB in this draft is getting the steal of the year. She can quarterback a power play, clear space in the D-zone, and set up your Spooners, your Poulins, your seeing-eye snipers. GMs... leave #26 open. You're gonna need it.
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