#the ONLY thing i can think of is that word i starred out in the caption | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafey-baby · 3 days ago

Text

forbidden fruit 2

Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...

snow white!reader x hunter!rafe

c/w: mentions of violence & murder, one bed (my fav cliche ever!), slightly suggestive, also if it’s not obvious this is *loosely* based on the story of snow white, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.4k

is he warming up to her? #it’s hard to tell

part one & moodboard

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Have you ever considered a less...um, violent job?” she asks, nausea coiling in her guts at the mere thought of harming— let alone killing an innocent animal.

The inky sky has turned into an even gloomier hue, and if it wasn’t for the luster of the moonlight illuminating their journey, they wouldn’t be able to see a thing. However, it’s still a challenge for them (her) to evade the thick roots hiding underneath the spongy moss and brittle lichen— she thinks her fingers aren’t enough to count the times Rafe has had to prevent her from toppling over onto the soil with a steadying grip on her arm.

At this point, she can’t comprehend how he even knows where they’re going. She thinks that every rock and tree trunk they pass resembles the last but apparently, he’s using them to track the route to his cabin— something he tried to teach her about two hours ago, but gave up the moment her attention was captured by a tiny squirrel hurriedly scampering off into its hiding spot.

“If I’m bein’ honest, I think killin’ is the only thing m’good for at this point,” he murmurs while inspecting a fallen spruce in the middle of their path.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she argues, rounding the obstacle while he simply steps over it.

“Tha’s cause you don’t know me. Listen, m’not…m’not a good person, I’ve done some, uh, real shitty things, alright?” he looks over to her, gemstone eyes sullen.

She wonders if the real shitty things include other people’s blood on his hands. After all, the queen wouldn’t have asked him to end her life if he’d never done it before. A shiver creeps up her spine when a vivid image of him doing something so remorseless flashes in her mind.

However, it’s soon replaced by him dropping the knife and sparing her life, even if it meant complicating his own.

“I think…a bad person wouldn’t be helping me right now,” her words are honest but he doesn’t offer her a reply, merely flits his eyes over her frame with a furrow in his brow.

They fall into a serene silence, wordlessly treading further and further into the somber forest while she keeps getting distracted by the glittering stars above them; mesmerized by the beauty of something so far away from all the cruelty on this planet.

However, when she goes on to take her next step, the ground (or what she thought was the ground) suddenly cracks underneath her, the partly frozen lid of the pond shattering with a loud crackle— only a surprised squeal leaving her throat when she loses her footing and tumbles right into the frigid water with a splash.

Turns out, it’s not just some small little puddle that’s partly covered by fallen leaves and branches, but a rather deep one; saturating her all the way up to her neck as she gasps for breath when the coldness surrounds her helpless limbs.

“Shit.”

She hears Rafe hiss before humored laughter bubbles from his chest.

“Rafe, this is not funny,” she complains with her teeth chattering when the icy liquid soaks through the fabric of her dress in an instant.

“M’sorry, you jus’ look like a wet kitten right now,” he shakes his head, chuckling as he extends an arm towards her— pulling her up and steadying her with a firm grip on her waist.

“Ow,” she cries out when she leans her weight on her left foot.

“What’s wrong?” he seems almost concerned as he scans her for any visible injuries.

“Think I sprained my ankle, it hurts,” she frowns, reaching for his forearm for balance.

“Of course you did, told you to be careful,” he clicks his tongue, slightly annoyed at the fact that she really is a helpless case. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t know…” she mumbles; face crumpling up when she tries to take a step forward.

“Right, uh, c’mere then,” he huffs out before his hands are on her waist once more and he’s lifting her into his arms like a bag of flour.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“There’s no way you’re walkin’ right now,” he scoffs as he shifts her into a better position before he’s continuing their trek. “What would you even do without me, hm?”

“Probably freeze to death like you said,” she pouts, eyes despondent when she leans into his supportive hold.

“Yeah.”

“M’sorry,” she sniffles, the ache in her foot combined with him being mad at her causing her eyes to burn.

“Shouldn’t be that long ’till we’re there, princess. Think you can manage not to cry before we get there?”

“I don’t know…it hurts and m’cold,” she sulks, feeling miserable, even if she knows she should be grateful she’s not dead or alone in the woods right now.

“You’re a big girl, know you can take it. You’ll feel better soon, yeah?” he attempts to provide her some sort of comfort with his limited knowledge of handling something so fragile.

She hums out something incoherent in response, weak arms wrapping around his neck as she takes in a shaky inhale— damp skin prickling under the chilly air that’s making the leafy trees sway back and forth, reminding her of shadowy ghosts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Uh, think there should be a dry shirt for you here somewhere…” he trails off as he goes through his closet. “This is probably a little too big but should be fine, yeah?”

The cabin is small and secluded; the darkened walls blending in with the rest of the forest and concealing them from the outside, making her feel strangely secure. However, his taste in decor makes her rather uneasy as she tries to desperately focus on the crackling fireplace beginning to warm up her trembling limbs and not the assortment of dead animals and their fur or other body parts on display.

“Oh, it’s perfect, thank you,” she tears her eyes from the elk antlers presented on the wall, offering him a tense smile when she takes the cottony shirt from him; the material surprisingly soft between her fingertips.

However, before he has the chance to leave the bedroom in order to give her some privacy, she timidly speaks up again, words clumsy and hurried. “Could you— um, could you help me undress? This corset is quite impossible to take off by myself…especially now that it’s wet.”

“Uh, right, yeah,” he clears his throat, gesturing for her to turn around before he’s pulling her closer by a grip on her hips, the wooden floorboards creaking underneath their feet making up for the sudden silence.

She doesn’t know why the gesture feels almost intimate or why it makes her hold her breath when he begins to unfasten the strings holding the corset top together, but a strange shade of suspense colors the air around them nonetheless.

“A tight little thing, huh?” he rasps as his fingers deftly work on the satiny ribbons— a process that feels eternal while she tries not to pay any mind to the way her heart keeps thumping louder and louder by each passing second.

When she finally feels the silky material loosening around her middle, she has to will her erratic breathing to slow down as he unhooks the rest of the dress— the fabric forming a pearly white puddle on the floor.

Then, he’s wordlessly slipping his shirt over her head; the sleeves far too long and the hem fitting her more like a short nightgown.

“Thanks,” she swallows before she’s gingerly turning around, lacking the courage of looking him in the eye for any longer than a glance.

“Right, uh, we should get some sleep. You can take the bed ’n I’ll sleep on the floor, yeah?”

And she’s already nodding before the words register in her disconcerted brain. “Wait, no, it’s your bed. I can sleep on the floor,” she argues immediately, momentarily forgetting why she was so shy in the first place when the weight of being an inconvenience builds up on her shoulders.

“Nah, m’not gonna let a fuckin’ princess sleep on the floor. S’fine, jus’ take the bed, I don’t want it. Need to make sure we weren’t followed anyway,” he grumbles, attempting to leave the room once more.

“Rafe, you need sleep just as much as I do. It’s the middle of the night, my stepmother doesn’t even know what you did yet. She’s expecting you to return tomorrow, right?” she tries to reason, not willing to give in because letting him sleep comfortably is the least she can do to even begin returning the favor.

He lets out a weary sigh before shrugging off his jacket, far too worn out to argue. “Yeah, alright, guess you have a point.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

They end up sharing the bed.

And once they’ve both settled into the opposite sides, she’s far too intimidated by Rafe’s disgruntled aura to utter out anything other than a whispered goodnight before it’s quiet once more.

However, as the night stretches on, she begins to grow restless; tossing and turning on the creaky mattress and driving Rafe mad in the process.

She doesn’t mean to, the last thing she wants is to disturb his rest but her thoughts are racing and she can’t seem to close her eyes for more than a few seconds because truthfully, she feels terrible— everything familiar has been turned upside down in the span of a day and the only life she knows has practically ceased to exist. All she wants is to go home but that’s not an option anymore and it’s scary.

“Hey, uh, you good?” Rafe’s sudden drawl makes her flinch.

“Sorry, can’t sleep,” she peeps out, expression apologetic when she twists to face him, causing the sheets to rustle around them.

“Yeah, me neither since you keep movin’ around like a lunatic,” he grumbles, irritation clear in his tone.

“M’sorry. Just can’t stop thinking about everything and I just…I’ve never understood why she hates me so much,” she breathes out, features contorting into something heavy-hearted as she chews on her bottom lip.

He blinks tiredly; movements lethargic when he runs a hand through his hair.

“The queen? Well, in case you haven’t noticed, she’s, uh, not that alright in the head. M’sure you’ve done nothin’ wrong, okay?” he attempts to reassure her, albeit to no avail.

“I just— just feel like...this is all my fault, you know? And now you’re in danger too because of me,” she rambles, not able to let the thought go.

“You don’t need to worry ’bout me, princess. There’s enough people that want me dead already, what’s one more?” he lets out a dry chuckle that makes her frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothin’ just, uh, listen…the worst thing that’s gonna happen is that she’s gonna have me killed when I don’t return, ’n once she finds out you’re still alive, she’s gonna send her soldiers to bring her your—”

“Rafe, that’s not helping. Why would say that?” she interrupts him and apparently, he finds her scowling face to be the most hilarious thing in the world because next thing she knows he’s laughing, sleepy features scrunching up as he shakes his head.

It’s safe to say she does not understand his humor, whatsoever.

“All m’sayin’ is that we’re gonna have to find someplace good to hide.”

“We have to leave the kingdom?” she asks, worried.

“Yeah, think so,” he says, sounding far too impassive for her liking.

“But I can’t just leave, this is my home.”

“I know, but s’gonna be okay,” he murmurs, mouth stretching around a yawn.

“But what if— what if something happens?” she sounds panicked, all the worst-case scenarios bouncing around her skull because she’s never even been this far from the palace. How on earth is she meant to survive in the real world?

“I’ll keep you safe, yeah? Now can you let me sleep?” he lets out a drowsy exhale, seemingly fed up with the conversation already.

“But what if—”

“Shh, c’mere,” he hushes her before he’s tucking her flush against his chest— a heavy palm resting on her thigh to keep her from moving because he’s exhausted and more than aware that tomorrow is going to be a long day, especially with this overthinking princess who he wishes would just shut up.

It’s something he’d tell her outright if he wasn’t certain that she’d start crying all over again in response— the rest of the hike here with her sobs and hiccups thrumming in his ears more than enough for one day.

And the sudden proximity seems to work because instantly, she stops shifting around; nearly stops breathing altogether when she swallows. “What are you…”

“Just, uh, need you to calm down, yeah?” he pats at her hip before she’s clumsily humming out another apology.

And despite the slight trace of the muddy water, her hair still smells of forest berries and wildflowers, making exasperation worm its way into his veins. He doesn’t understand why she’s trusting her life in his hands so thoughtlessly; it’s like she has no sense of self-preservation with the way she’s blindly following him anywhere, when not even a day ago he attempted to murder her.

He wonders if she’s always been like this; naive and dumb, always seeing the good in people, even when there isn’t any. All it took was a few remotely sweet words and she’s already allowing him to hold her this close— a foolish deer resting peacefully next to a starving wolf and expecting not to get hurt.

Momentarily, he gets the urge to just finish the job right now, wrap his arm around her throat until the flame burns out, leaving her eyes dull, lifeless. After all, it would make his life considerably easier. He can almost feel it— the moment her heart comes to a halt in her ribcage as she turns into nothing more than flesh and bones, freeing him from this burden.

And at the end of the day, it’s part of his nature to kill for his own benefit, muscles nearly stinging with the self-serving temptation because that’s what he’s always been; selfish.

“Rafe, that hurts,” her voice is small, nervous, nonetheless forcing him to resurface to the current; his rough fingertips mindlessly sinking into the bare surface of her thigh, harsh enough to leave a bruise.

Her entire form is tense, breathing shallow and limbs unmoving, resembling a rabbit rigid with fear, only amplifying this ever-growing itch under his skin.

He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” a mutter through his teeth before she can finally feel the pressure dissipating— his thumb smoothing over the sore patch while he tries to decide what the fuck he should do with her.

513 notes · View notes

defmaybe · 2 days ago

Text

Anatomy of a Farewell

12 Days of Christmas: Day 7, December 31st, 2024

fromis_9’s Park Jiwon x Male Reader

3.6k words

Christmas Masterlist

All good things must come to an end.

So is fromis_9 and your time with them, especially Jiwon.

“Cheers to us!” Saerom shouts, as she lifts her glass up for a toast. Everyone at the table joins in. It’s sad, really. It’s your last day to be officially together—the New Year’s Eve of 2024—and you can only hope that the wind of fate will somehow make your paths cross again.

So, what’s next?

You’ve been here for a few years already, from an intern to a boss. It has been a great experience for you, and now it’s coming to an end. Your future is uncertain again. Maybe Woollim? Maybe WakeOne? Maybe HYBE again? You aren’t so sure, and thinking about it only puts a burden on you.

You’re sitting on the outside of the bar, contemplating your life choices with a glass of beer in your hand. The December wind blows through the air, so—cold, dry, like every December before it.

“Hey.” A sound comes from your back. It’s Jiwon, a glass of beer in her hand. A faint smile is painted on her face.

“Hey,” you reply, taking a sip of your beer. It’s so quiet out here.

“You good?” she asks, sitting down beside you. Her right arm brushes slightly against yours.

“Well, you know, farewell sorrow and stuff,” you answer, chuckling softly at your predicament. You’ll have to find a new job after this, but for the last few years here, it has been worth it.

“Me too,” she says. It must be sad for her, suddenly saying goodbye to the women who’ve been with her for the last half decade or so.

You two let the silence linger in the air for a few more heartbeats, unsure of what to say next. You glance around you. There’s Jiwon. There’s a parking van, your company’s van, to be exact. There are trees. There's sadness building up inside you. There’s–

“I’ll miss them a lot, like, a fucking lot.”

You look at Jiwon again, your chin resting on your fist, trying to be her solace. It has been working so far.

“Yeah, it’s–hard,” you say. That’s the best sequence of words you could come up with, and it’s not bad, really. “You might still see them around, at least.”

Jiwon chuckles. “Yeah, I might.”

The concept of departure isn’t exactly new to you. You’ve had people leave you in the past before. It takes a few times to get used to it, really. But after that? It’s so much, much easier for you to accept your fate.

“So, what are you going to do next?” you ask, trying to continue the conversation. You want it to go on, at least you do. Despite how you’re so used to people’s departure, with Jiwon, it feels–different.

“Hmm.” She contemplates. You think she can easily have an acting career after this. You’ve seen her act before. She does it pretty well. Maybe she might star along Gyuri, one day.

“Modelling, maybe?” she says. That also works. Yeah, with a body like her, she definitely can do that.

“Seems sensible for you.”

She chuckles softly. “Thanks. What about you? Are you staying at HYBE?”

“Uh, I don’t know, really. I got the offer from a few places already, but I don’t know where I should go next,” you reply, shrugging. That WakeOne offer seems lucrative, could help your family.

“Where is it? Tell me!” she asks, smiling. She nudges you gently with her arm. But under this intoxication, you almost fall over. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Haiya!” you utter.

“Oh my god, sorry!” Jiwon holds you back in time. You’re not losing your balance yet.

“Well–” you pick yourself straight up again, brushing off the dust on your coat “–there’s Woollim, there’s WakeOne, and uh–there’s HYBE.”

Jiwon raises her eyebrows. “I can see someone like you working with Kep1er, though. HYBE sucks, like–look at us.”

You and Jiwon share a laugh in your predicaments. Yeah, HYBE sucks for you two—too few comebacks, too little promotions.

It has always been fun talking to Jiwon like this. You’d argue that Jiheon has been the closest to you, same age and all, but with Jiwon, it feels–different. It’s something you can’t quite describe.

The laughter then transitions into the silence lingers on for a few seconds more. The two of you don’t know what to say next. It happens sometimes. Still, with her, you feel safe, you feel happy.

“Maybe I should head back inside,” she finally says, smiling softly. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

—

The night rolls on. One beer, two beers, three beers. Every single one of you is getting more and more intoxicated, so are you and Jiwon.

Your eyes keep making contact with each other. With each time, you swear that attraction starts to build up. You’ve felt nothing like this towards her. She has never been more than a co-worker to you.

Is there something going on?

You excuse yourself to the bathroom for the umpteenth time tonight, hoping to make the intoxication subside (it won’t subside). You open the bathroom door, wash your face, and set your hair. Then, as you look up from the sink, Jiwon appears in the mirror from behind you.

“Fuck, you’re scaring me, Jiwon,” you say, as Jiwon appears to be chuckling behind you.

“Sorry,” she replies. “Just wanna ask you something.”

“Oh, sure.”

Jiwon looks away from you, trying to form the right words. “So, I’d like to ask you–if I could stay at your place–tonight.”

Aren’t they supposed to have a driver? What is happening?

“Uh, I thought you guys had a driver?” you ask, puzzled, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Well, the problem is that–” she pauses, giving way to the silence as she moves closer to you, her breath is on your neck. Her right hand touches the small of your back softly, making you shudder “–except for Saerom, I can’t let anyone know I’m staying with you.”

“Oh.”

—

“Hmmph, you smell–hmm–so fucking good,” she says, peppering kisses on your neck. Her lips feel so soft. Her thighs are locking your body in your place. You can’t move, but you’re more than happy being under her restraints like this.

“It’s Yves Saint’s Libre.”

She retreats from peppering kisses on your neck with a puzzled expression. “Women’s perfume, really?”

You chuckle. “I mean–it smells good. You even said that!”

“Fair.” She shrugs dismissively before diving onto your neck again. Your body shudders in response from the pleasure and the low temperature of the room. Her hands wander around your body possessively, trying to claim you as hers (you’re already hers). She smells so good. It’s probably La Vie Est Belle, the same one your sister uses. There’s a bit of alcohol in her scent.

“Mmm, y–you also smell g–good, Jiwon,” you mutter, struggling to get the words out under this immense pleasure.

“Mmph, thanks! It’s–”

“La Vie Est Belle. Yeah, my sister uses it.”

Jiwon lets out a chuckle, clearly satisfied with your knowledge. She then pushes you onto the bed, making you land with a soft thud. It’s game time for her.

“Would you mind turning on the heater?” she asks, slightly shivering, as she dives onto your neck to plant the kisses.

“S–Sure.”

You reach for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the heater. Her lips remain busy, placing kisses on your neck. She starts to strip herself of the restrictive clothes, embracing the warmth from your heater. She unbuttons her coat (it’s a little too big for her, if you’d have to add), revealing the red blouse under. Her cleavage is showing off nicely by the collar. God, she looks so great.

“Can I?” you ask her for permission to touch her chest. She looks so damn tempting, and you just couldn’t resist it.

“Go ahead,” she allows, mouth still busy on your neck somehow.

You reach out to touch her small, firm breasts that are hanging in front of you. You figure that they’re soft to the touch. They just fit in your hand. She’s perfect, and you decide to give her breasts a squeeze.

“Hmm, just like that,” she whimpers, pulling back from your neck to allow you easier access to her confined tits. Her body arches back slightly. Her blouse lifts a little to show the small of her toned tummy.

You give her breasts the treatment they deserve—grab, squeeze, knead. You’re making her moan in pure pleasure. She loves this.

“Mmm, fuckkk~” she groans. Her body vibrates under your touch. You’re revelling in the way she’s becoming undone like this. You’re revelling in the way her breasts feel in your hands. She’s so pliant, so yours.

“Baby,” Jiwon says, voice all airy from the bliss.

“Yes?” Your hands are still kneading her breasts softly

“I want–no–I need you inside me. Now.”

You giggle, quickly taking off your coat to make it equal. “No foreplay?”

“Me kissing your neck and you grabbing my tits are enough foreplay, baby,” she answers. Her voice is so light, so airy, so diluted. “I’m already fucking wet.”

You look into her eyes. They’re gleaming with unbridled desire. She wants this. She needs this. She needs you.

“Oh, s–sure,” you answer awkwardly before hastily unbuckling your belt. Your pants come off easily, and then there’s only your tight boxers left.

“Would you mind?” you ask, wanting her to be your guest in taking the last barrier off.

“Sure, why not?” she scoffs, before she grabs the edge of your underwear, teasing you, making you want more. She runs her thumbs along your waist, making you groan in the looming disappointment.

“God, thought you want me inside you,” you moan. She’s such a fucking cocktease.

“Just wanna hear you moan first” she replies, snaking her right hand under the piece of cloth. She brushes against your throbbing cock softly, making you moan to her wish.

“G–Goddd~” Your eyes flutter in ecstasy. Pleasure is coursing through you. It’s electric.

Jiwon giggles, before finally pulling your boxers down to your ankles, freeing your cock from its confinement. Your legs shiver from the still-cold air of the room. It hasn’t gotten much warmer yet.

“Already hard?” she playfully asks, softly flicking your shaft.

“Just for you.”

Jiwon lets out another laugh, clearly satisfied with your witty response. “Good answer.”

A smile escapes your lips, as Jiwon is still watching your cock with wonder. She really loves it, doesn’t she?

“So–” you reach out for her chin, tilting her face up slightly to meet your eyes. She looks nothing short of ethereal tonight under your dim room light. What a woman “–what are you going to do with me?”

Jiwon smiles. “Wait a second, dumbass. Can’t I just admire him for a bit?” Her eyes go back to watching your cock intently.

“Not after you promised me a ride, Jiwon,” you reply. You have needs too, and it’s currently not being sated.

“I’m not good with promise,” she says, giggling, and you can’t help but smile at her response. She then gets up into a sitting position again, tying her hair into a bun. Holy fuck, she looks so hot with that hair.

“Please,” you utter. You really want this. You really want her.

“Please what, baby?” she playfully asks, drawing a line on your shirt. You’re quivering under her touch.

“J–Just fuck me already, Jiwon,” you answer shakenly. You’re in dire need of her pussy now.

Jiwon smiles before unbuttoning her jeans and sliding it down, revealing her drenched panties underneath. She looks so tantalizing.

“Fuck, this is cold,” she says, crossing her arms.

“Want me to be on top?”

“But you’ll get cold!” she says, concerned about your wellbeing. What a kind woman.

“I have to be a good host.”

“And I have to be a good guest!” she replies sternly. She’s so adamant about this, isn’t she?

“Get down here then, Jiwon,” you say, gesturing to her to lie on your bed. She reluctantly complies, hesitating, still worrying if you’d feel cold.

But you already have other plans.

You carefully have her lying down on your bed next to you, on her side. You take off her wet panties, slowly, rewarding you with a light, small moan and the view of her wet pussy. You then lift her leg to rest on your thighs. It’s for easy access to her cunt.

“You really are a good host,” she says, a smile forms on her gorgeous face.

“Thanks.”

You line up your needy cock with her puffy cunt, ready to fuck her properly. You look into her eyes, and there’s nothing but desire. No anxiety. No apprehension. No second thoughts. She’s ready.

“Fuck me.”

With that, you thrust your hips into her wanton pussy. Her body shrieks in pleasure and a slight tinge of pain. Your cock is stretching her out wide. She feels great, so tight, so right. Her inner walls are grazing your cock, making you moan in unbridled joy.

“Goddd~” you moan. You’re feeling so ecstatic with her pussy wrapping around you. Then, there’s the clapping of your thighs. There’s her airy moans. There’s her gleeful expression. You love this. You love the way you make her moan. You love the way you’re feeling right now.

“You feel so good, baby. So big, so thick,” Jiwon groans, eyes closed with the boiling pleasure. Her hands hug around you ever so tightly, not wanting to lose you into the cold of the night.

“Ha–th–thanks, Jiwon,” you reply, stuttering. You just cannot handle the feeling that’s coursing through you right now.

Jiwon’s expression is nothing short of pure bliss—the closed eyes, the smile, the slightly arched eyebrows. She’s enjoying this. She’s enjoying your cock inside her.

You continue to slowly slide in and out of her needy pussy, enamored in the feeling of her walls hugging around your cock. Electricity shoots through your body. It feels great. She feels great—the warmth, the smell, the sound. She’s perfect.

You finally catch the tempo of fucking her folds, so you start to quicken your pace by a little. Her moans become shorter and shorter. She’s losing herself around your cock.

Jiwon bites her lip, finally opens her eyes. She looks up at you with pure lust in her pupils, and you swear that this is the most beautiful she has ever looked—in your tight embrace, on your bed, biting her own soft lip.

“Mmm, fucking love this cock,” she utters without any shame, leaning in to plant a soft peck on your forehead. Warmth emanates from the spot. It feels good.

“Love your pussy too, baby,” you say, making her laugh in your embrace.

She then leans in slightly closer, staring into your eyes. Is she going to–

“I–I–” Jiwon stutters. Her train of thoughts are derailed under the pleasure you’re giving her. You feel too good.

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You let the question hang in the air for a few seconds, drawing the tension, dragging the answer, making her restless.

“I’m already inside you, so–make that what you will,” you reply to her with a soft chuckle. Your hips are rocking into her pussy gently, trying not to hurt her.

Jiwon laughs. “No, I mean–fucking just doesn’t have enough emotions as kissing!”

“Kissing is just tongue though,” you deflect, protecting your point. She does have a point, at least, just not as strong as yours.

“Look at doggy,” she brings up her point. “You don’t have to look at each other, making it less intimate, a lot less.”

That makes sense. She just won her debate against you.

“Well, it seems that you’ve won, Miss Park.” You giggle, nibbling her chin softly. “Guess you can kiss me on the lips.”

Jiwon’s face lights up with a smile, before latching her lips on yours. The kiss is fervent. The kiss is passionate. She invades your mouth aggressively, a contradiction to the slow love making below your belts. Her grip on your face is tight. She doesn’t want to let you go.

Her lips taste like beer. It still lingers inside her mouth as you pierce her mouth with your tongue. You suppose yours probably taste the same. The kiss still feels electric, indeed. Jiwon lets out soft moans and whimpers into the kiss. God, what a feeling.

Her right hand then travels below your belt, smacking your plump ass. Your body jolts in response to the violent hit. She lets out a giggle.

Finally, she pulls back from the kiss. Your hips are still rocking down below, pounding her cunt with softness. Her face is all flushed, so enamored in the kiss.

“That felt great,” she says, a smile painting on her ethereal face.

“Me too, baby,”

Jiwon chuckles at the pet name, before starting to moan again. Her mouth is agape. Her eyes are barely open.

“Y–You’re so big, baby,” she utters.

“I–I’d argue that it’s p–pretty average, Jiwon.”

She shoots you a warm smile. “Don’t downplay yourself! Be proud of your size, alright?” Jiwon encourages you, and you can’t help but laugh at her words.

“O–Okay, Jiwon.”

You up your tempo into another ante. It has become a hammering session now. The sounds of smacking flesh echoes through your room. Sweat starts to form on both of your foreheads. Jiwon’s eyes are fluttering. She’s enjoying this.

“F–Fuckkk~” Jiwon moans, airy, diluted. Your hands wander down to her caged pert breasts, feeling them bounce in your hand. Jiwon lets out stuttered whimpers at your touch. She still feels so soft, so perfect in your hands.

“S–So good, baby,” she whimpers. She’s loving this.

“Glad I can be of help, babe,” you reply, eliciting a shaken laugh out of her lips.

The feeling around your cock is nothing short of ecstatic. Your moans are full of unpacked joy. Your cock fits into her pussy so perfectly. Her tight walls are trying to coax that white, viscous nectar out of your slit.

Her grips on your face grow tighter. Her moans become more frantic. Her breathing becomes ragged. Her muscles tense. She’s going to cum.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, baby,” Jiwon moans, as you pound her pussy with reckless abandon.

You realized that your grips on her face also become tighter and tighter as seconds go by. Your motion becomes more and more erratic down there. You’re chasing your own orgasm. You’re going to cum.

“M–Me too, babe,” you utter, so lost in the boiling pleasure.

Jiwon then pulls you into another fiery kiss. Her lips still taste like beer, but you swear that it’s like an aphrodisiac to you. Her tongue finds its way into your mouth dextrously, sweeping the insides of your mouth. Her right hand gives your ass another slap, making your whole body shudder in response. Your hands wander towards her small, firm chest, giving them a light squeeze. She moans as a reply to your touch.

Her breathing becomes faster and faster. You figure that she’s going to cum, and so are you. The all-too-familiar feeling is building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her.

“G–Gonna cum,” Jiwon utters into the kiss. Her tongue fights yours for dominance.

“Can I–Can I cum inside you?” you ask, slightly hoping for a yes.

“I–I’m on the p–pill, go ahead, baby,” she answers, and that’s a go for you to ram into her cunt with reckless abandon. The sound of your fleshes smacking rings through the room. The room reeks of sex in this December air.

You pull back from the sensual kiss to watch her flushed face. She’s moaning. Her eyes are barely opening, fluttering in ecstasy. She loves this. She loves having your cock pounding her pussy like this.

“Th–Thanks for e–everything,” you say. Your orgasm draws near.

“M–Me too, baby.”

She’s the first to let go. Gushes of torrent are discharged out of her pussy onto you, dripping onto your bed. Her walls contract around your cock. She cries out in pure bliss. Good thing that these walls are thick.

You follow suit. Your cock shoots spurts of cum into her wanton cavern, painting her insides white. Your hips buck harshly into her. You take a deep breath as you cum. Fuck, what a feeling.

Jiwon pulls you into another kiss, invading your mouth with adeptness. Her right hand presses onto your ass, wanting you to bury your cock inside her. She moans and moans into the kiss. The sound of the wet smooches and your moans ring inside your ears.

Inevitably, your orgasms die down. Violent shots of cum turn into drizzles out of your slit. Your sheets are all wet from her nectar. Both of you are panting—tired.

The two of you lie down on the bed on your sides—exhausted, spent, satisfied. Your bodies are all flushed with red. You’re watching her glowing in the post-debauchery bliss. She looks so good. You can’t let this go. You just can’t.

“Wanna do this again?” It’s one of the best sex you’ve ever had, and you can’t just let it slip past your hands so easily.

“Well–” she tucks her hair behind her ear, looking at you as she chuckles “–definitely, maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘Definitely, maybe’?”

Jiwon laughs, covering her mouth. “Just a movie reference, don’t worry,” she says, patting your shoulder. She looks so gorgeous like this.

“We’re definitely fucking again, no maybes.”

—

#jiwon #fromis 9 #jiwon smut #fromis 9 smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

486 notes · View notes

gyaruhana · 3 days ago

Note

pls do thanos headcanons

Thanos/Choi Su-bong - headcannons

Synopsis: just sfw and nsfw headcannons of thanos

A/N: i love him so much he's the silly

Warnings: drug mentions, choking, thanos is rough, use of whore, clit pinching, penetration duh

SFW:

➠ Thanos my perfect husband where do I even begin?

➠ He’s slightly off the rails, sure. Just a little. But he has a good heart !!

➠ He makes rap songs for you all the time and they always include something about how pretty you are

➠ Would absolutely kill for you especially if you both were in the squid games.

➠ He’d likely keep playing the games because he needs that money but he WILL be protecting you at all costs.

➠ You are never not by his side because he couldn’t handle not having you in arms reach in a deadly game.

➠ He doesn’t like when other guys flirt with you. It pisses him off and he always gets aggressive about it and tells them to back off.

➠ Highkey likes the idea of matching things like nails or clothes or bracelets..

➠ To him it’s like a sign that you’re his and he really likes when people can clearly get the message

➠ He’s not overly possessive, he’s just very open with his relationship and likes to show you off just as much as he likes for you to show him off

➠ PDA king

➠ Really doesn’t shy away from any sort of PDA

➠ In fact he’s always touching you. Whether it’s holding your hand, a hand on your waist, his arm draped over your shoulder - he’s never not touching you

➠ Would share his drugs with you if you need them because you’re stressed or scared.

➠ Overall, just a silly guy who loves you so much and does not hesitate to show it

NSFW

➠ He’s rough, let's be real.

➠ He really likes making you cum over and over again

➠ He’s very vocal and will gladly groan as loud as he wants too but it’s also partly to encourage you to be loud because god he loves your voice !!

➠ Even though he’s rough, he makes up for that with words of praise

➠ ..okay sometimes he throws in the word whore but he always specifies that you’re his whore or his slut

➠ Honestly, sometimes takes a pill before sex because he”s so much more energetic when he’s high and it means he has more stamina

➠ Accidentally over-stimulates himself sometimes though because he can NOT !! get enough of you

➠ Don’t think he’s a big fan of putting you in pain. Some light choking, yes, maybe he’d pinch your clit while fingering you - but he wouldn’t hurt you enough to make you cry.

➠ He only wants you crying from pleasure not from pain !!

➠ Tbh he likes to cum all over you. Inside, outside, down your throat- everywhere

➠ Overall, he rough in bed but not abusive bc he could never hurt his princess !!

"C'mon, you can cum one more time for me, yeah?" he spoke as he thrusted in and out of your tight hole. He had already gotten you to cum four times but he was going for a fifth. His thrusts were sloppy but his cock reached so deep inside you that you were seeing stars. Meanwhile, his thumb was playing with your clit, rubbing circles on it and occasionally pinching it. "Fuck.. yeah. Cum on my cock princess. I wanna feel my whore cream,"

#squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game #thanos squid game #squid game 2 #squid game smut #choi su bong smut #choi su bong

842 notes · View notes

readwritealldayallnight · 20 hours ago

Text

FINAL Part of the Wife at First Sight series (18+ MDNI)

Happy New Years Eve!!! I cannot believe we’ve made it to the end! Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think my random lil drabble would be so loved and would eventually grow into this

Thank you for all the love and support and especially for your patience in between uploads! Hope this last part doesn’t disappoint!!

Between the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the defeaning sound of blood pumping in your ears combined with the whimpers escaping your open mouth, you fail to hear just how lighthearted Simon’s chuckle is from between your thighs

He can’t get enough of you like this, his girl, his sweetheart, his love, his wife, all desperate and needy for him, and yet he’s barely touched you

At least not properly anyway

Much to your current dismay

Finding the rec room empty at this late night hour, the two of you huddled up on what you so kindly reminded him was a shared couch, he’s taking the opportunity alone to tease the absolute shit out of you

What had started as an arm slung casually over your shoulder, turned into his other hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your knee, which led to his large, warm palm slowly stroking up and down your thigh, reaching higher and higher each time until he was slipping his fingers beneath the skirt of your dress, digits barely skimming the edge of your underwear beneath

His eyes are fixated on your face the entire time, drinking in each and every expression you make for him, wishing he could forever remember the way you look as you try not to give in entirely to the pleasure he’s bringing you

It was a losing battle to begin with, but when Simon’s fingers cease rubbing against the increasingly damp spot in your panties, and instead pull the sticky fabric aside just as your man slides off the couch and lands on his knees in between your thighs, you give up the fight for decency entirely

He absolutely revels in the gasp that leaves your lips as his broad shoulders push against your thighs, demanding their rightful place between your legs, his eyes still locked on yours as his face moves closer and closer to your hot center

“Simon,” You don’t mean for your words to sound so much like a plea as they pass your lips, but Simon and his skilled hands have you brain all foggy. “We don- we don’t have ti- time. They’re suppo- supposed to be coming so-”

Your words are lost and forgotten as he tugs his balaclava up just high enough to plant a chaste kiss to your soaked folds. Your fingers quickly tug the mask the rest of the way off his head, feeling the smirk on his face when you snake your fingers through his messy locks.

“You’re the only one I want comin’ right now, love.” He murmurs against your inner thigh, planting small kisses against the sensitive skin, chuckling softly when he feels your fingers gently tugging him back towards where you want him most

He widens his tongue to run through your dripping folds, tasting your lust for him straight from the source. You can’t help the moan that leaves you any more than you can control the way your legs instinctually widen further for him, your body relaxing deeper into the couch cushions as Simon sets to work on you, his own groan of satisfaction vibrating through you

“Si, oh my god, Simon.” His name is the only thing your brain can comprehend as his mouth skillfully brings you closer and closer to that tantalizing edge, that falling off a cliff feeling where you know Simon is waiting at the bottom to catch you, if only to bring you right back to the peak again

His lips are wrapped around your sensitive, throbbing nub, causing you to nearly see stars behind your eyelids as one of his hands lets go of their strong grip on your thigh, bringing it instead to gently circle a large finger at your sopping entrance before he sinks it in entirely, evoking yet another beautiful moan from above him

His attention on you is wholly undivided, his dedication to your pleasure unmatched as he works you up higher, especially after all that teasing he put you through earlier, you both know your climax is rapidly approaching, and his impressive stamina means he is nowhere near stopping his efforts

You can feel him teasing a second finger at your hole, but it’s just as he slips it in with the first one, combined with a skilled sucking at your clit from his mouth, that you quickly stumble over that edge, temporarily blinded by the feeling of ecstasy he gives you, his ministrations never slowing as he prolongs your climax

It’s not until the ringing in your ears begins to fade and you come back down to earth, that you slowly push his head away from you, hearing another kind of ringing echoing through the room

“Si, your phone.” You murmur between panting breaths, still absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair, feeling the slight sweat breaking out along his scalp

“What if I wan’ another one out o’ you, huh?” He asks, planting a kiss to your knee, though his hand is already reaching towards his back pocket.

“What if I want to marry you, huh?” You quip back, knowing who’s likely on the phone, raising a playful brow in his direction paired with a teasing smile which he gladly returns.

“Yes?” Simon asks, putting the phone to his ear put keeping his eyes on you as you attempt to put yourself back together, straightening out your skirt and fixing your hair, hoping it wasn’t too obvious you just got devoured by a Lieutenant on the common room couch

“Well if you two lovebirds dinnae mind, some o’ us would like to get this show started!” You can hear the strong accented voice say through the line, giggling softly as Simon rolls his eyes at the Sergeant.

“Captain’s arrived?” He questions as he finally stands up, extending a hand to you to help you up as well. “Alrigh’ Johnny, we’ll meet you at the spot.” Barely waiting for a reply, Simon is sliding the phone back in his pocket and giving his attention back to you, promises of finishing this later and reciting vows between your thighs dying on his tongue when he sees the sparkle in your eye at hearing him mention the spot.

Before he had ever officially proposed, he knew where he wanted it to happen, and when you had mentioned you weren’t too particular about location, he’d suggested his idea, elated when he saw your grin and knew you agreed

He wanted to marry you, to make you his wife and to become your husband, in the very spot you first met

That very same hallway on base where you’d nearly run into him and unknowingly started a fire in his heart that has yet to go out, the flame growing bigger and brighter each day

That very same spot, which to anyone else appears to be like any other hallway on the base, but to Simon it represents so much more

It’s the spot where his eyes landed on you for the first time and he knew his life would never be the same, where he watched you smile at him and came to terms with the fact that he would never know peace again until he knew your name

And now, he holds your hand in his, walking together towards that same spot, now with the intention of changing your last name

There wasn’t much either of you needed as far as a wedding goes, you weren’t keen on having anything extravagant or grand, as long as it ended in you both being married, you’d be overjoyed to simply go to the courthouse

Each of you had only one request, you wanted to wear a simple white dress, which Simon had happily bought for you without allowing you to see the price tag, and Simon wanted the Captain to officiate the ceremony

While Price had been more than pleased to be asked something so special, he hadn’t been quite as keen on receiving a call on his personal cell from his Lieutenant during his holidays, asking (if not downright pleading with him-) if he could return sooner rather than later to marry them, only half joking that they really would just run away to a courthouse if he wasn’t back by the end of the year

Which is where you find yourselves now, on a practically empty military base during the end of the holiday season, most everyone gone to celebrate with their families and loved ones, meanwhile your handful of loved ones have gathered here, the very closest location and soonest time the Captain could return to make this all official, with only a few minutes until midnight on none other than New Years Eve

As you turn the corner together, a faint blush spreads through your cheeks at Johnny’s low whistle and Kyle’s cheering. Even John’s sporting an enthusiastic grin on his visage, arms crossed across his chest as they watch the couple approach

It feels nearly too good to be true, nothing short of a dream come true, as you turn to face Simon, your soft, smaller hands held steadily in his larger, calloused ones, eyes locked on the other as they speak all the love you hold for each other than no word in any language could ever properly express

Having seen their stoic Lieutenant fall head over heels for you from the very get go, the lads feel downright honoured to be here, witnessing the start of your new lives together, the moment where Simon officially makes you his wife after all

No one present can deny that it is truly something out of a fairytale, when both vows are said, love is expressed and devotion is promised, Price is able to officially declare you married as husband and wife, and when your lips come crashing together in your first kiss as a married couple, it happens to be right when the clock strikes midnight, and fireworks erupt in a blaze of glory and passion outside

Because in the end, as complicated as the journey (or downright painfully obvious some might say but ya know-) to get to this point in your relationship might have been, the love between you both could not be simpler

He had loved you from the very moment you walked into his life, from the moment your eyes glanced up and instantly met his, from the moment you opened your mouth and he heard the voice he knew he would do anything to continue hearing for the remainder of his days

While you yourself had been immediately enamoured with the tall man who first introduced himself as your husband, believing his advances to be a playful joke everyone but you was in on, you couldn’t help the way your heart fell for him faster than you could wrap your head around, showered in his unapologetic affections and undivided attention from the very start

But as soon as Simon took that leap of faith, opening himself up and being truthfully vulnerable with you, he couldn’t understand what he’d been waiting all this time for

Not when he now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that was the luckiest man on this earth, to be able to love you and somehow, you loved him too

Not when he was able to knock down that final barrier, to literally rip the mask off and just be him, a feeling he still could hardly explain

How does he put into words the fact that he feels more human, more whole, more him, just from being near you?

He’s never had this before, never experienced something this profound and earth shattering, both terrifying and exhilarating. Does everyone feel this way? Is everyone who claims to be in love also going through the motions of having their heart willingly ripped out of their chest and put into the hands of another, just to have it gently put back in better than it was before?

No, he doesn’t believe everyone feels this

This love, is only between the two of you, for the two of you

He knows there can’t be anyone else out there who has it this good

Especially when considering, Simon is the only one who gets to call you his wife

And just like that folks, Wife at First Sight is wrapped up!!!

I really hope it doesn’t disappoint anyone, and leaves everyone feeling as happy as all your kind comments on this story have made me!

I seriously never anticipated for this story to become a series, let alone for it to have received as much love as it has, so again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the love, the comments, the patience, everything!

I would absolutely be down to write more about these two, especially if you have any prompts or ideas to suggest, but we’re going to call this the end of the official series, anything else that might come will be nice little add ons

- M🫶🏻

287 notes · View notes

sunderwight · 1 day ago

Text

Thinking about what if SJ had left the Qiu manor a little earlier (some other final straw breaks the camel's back sooner), and actually manages to get a lead on YQ and follows it to Cang Qiong Mountain while YQ is in the thick of his "locked suffering in a cave" arc.

SJ arrives and is immediately struck by the needle-in-a-haystack-ness of the situation. The population of all the peaks put together is huge, and he has no clout to leverage, no reason to get people to care what he's there for and a strong reluctance to tip his hand about... basically anything. Even totally earnest intentions to find his childhood friend.

So SJ skips the usual disciple trials (none are being held at the time he arrives anyway) and just steals a disciple uniform for An Ding. An Ding has a lot of outer disciples. SJ doesn't even know which peak it is, he just sees the place that has the most faceless/nameless lackeys doing grunt work and goes okay, I bet they don't always know all their own by name and face, and he's correct.

The bluff works hilariously well. When he gets back to An Ding with his "fellow" disciples he just finds an unused storage room to sleep in, and even when he gets sort-of caught out at it the shixiong who catches him just bemoans the hazing/bullying on the peaks. When SJ establishes that he's fine sleeping in the store room, Shang-shixiong even bribes him to keep his mouth shut about the "bullying epidemic" by giving him a proper cot and blankets to use. So SJ doesn't even have to deal with being in a dorm.

He multitasks actually learning what cultivation he can from the other An Ding disciples and masters, and investigating all the other latest arrivals to the peaks. It isn't long before Shang-shixiong spills the beans about the rising star of Qiong Ding Peak, who came from apparently nowhere during the selection trials, matches Yue Qi's description, has the same surname, and disappeared mysteriously a few weeks ago.

Shen Jiu's gut twists around at word of the disappearance. He is all too aware of the kinds of things it usually means when handsome, talented boys with no family or backing just disappear mysteriously all of a sudden. He's heard things about the sort of uses cultivators have for people with a lot of raw talent and not a lot of knowledge or protection, too. Qiu Jianluo used to make it a point to explain exactly what SJ's cultivation talents could be used for (cauldron stuff), both as a threat and also as a warning against him trying to go outside and find a master. Even Yue Qi had sort of tried to warn him, in his own way, by demanding SJ always keep it a secret.

Yue Qi might have believed that the righteous cultivators in an official sect wouldn't stoop to such dirty, underhanded methods, and might have thought he was safe here. SJ holds no such optimistic illusions. The An Ding peak lord give every impression of the same kind of sycophantic public servants who used to take kickbacks from wealthier families in his home city, and even only glimpsed at a distance, the sect leader gives him the creeps.

Anyway, SJ eventually figures out that something is up with the Ling Xi caves, goes down and finds a sealed-off cavern with just a few cracks he can peer through. Cue reversal of the last time he saw Yue Qi, with the older boy now being the one locked away by a cruel master, and SJ having to whisper reassurances and promises of rescue.

#svsss #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #qijiu #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #sj going full axe murderer arsonist on cultivators is harder than doing it on a mansion full of normies though #he's gonna have to find some other method of destroying them #maybe allying with a certain demon king or something

249 notes · View notes

ambernotember · 3 days ago

Text

I was in high school in the early 2000s, at an arts high school. A REGIONAL arts program that had students from 4-5 different cities. You want to know how many queer people were out in this regional arts program?

Not. A. Single. One.

There were 3 (?) students that I think we all knew were gay/queer, but not one of them ever said it in the entire time I knew them. One of them literally took another mutual friend to every event the school had, they always joked about how it was completely platonic and they weren’t suited for each other at all, and he still never said the word gay.

There wan’t the queer representation we have now in media, be it music, movies, tv, books, or anything else. (Even when that representation is not perfect!) (Glee didn’t actually start until I was in university? I think? I only watched it if other people were watching it.)

And the students in our arts program — surprisingly progressive for an early 2000s high school — still said and did things that were homophobic and transphobic. And we didn’t do them to be hurtful or harmful, but rather because it was just an accepted part of the vernacular at the time. That doesn’t lessen the harm those things caused, but the intention was never to hurt. We were stupid teenagers doing and saying things we thought were cool.

If Tommy is 40, if they keep him Lou’s age, the most likely choices for popular high school movies at the time would have been American Pie and Dude Where’s My Car. Super bro-y, misogynistic humour, couldn’t mention music or band without hearing “this one time at band camp” jokes (and our school even *had* a band camp every year). If we go with the implication that Tommy always knew he was gay, that really would not have been a safe environment for him and he would have done everything he could have to hide and blend in. If you also use the age of 40, he probably started with the army soon after 9/11 at age 18-19, so he would have gone from that high school environment to the army and DADT. He did what he had to do to survive, and that doesn’t mean those actions and words didn’t hurt other people, but again, the environment we live in today is so different and if you didn’t experience that time, it’s hard to know what it was like.

A lot of the queer people in my friend group didn’t come out until their late 20s/early 30s, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was because we were trying to unlearn that shit too before we could figure ourselves out.

I do think the experiences that we see and hear about from Tommy are ones that resonate with a slightly older crowd; we saw what it was like for people who were out, or who were just different, and if we didn’t wanted to be treated that same way we assimilated. Did it mean we were always kind? To others, or to ourselves? No, of course not. We all said and did shit we regret.

For younger people in the fandom, they might have had high school movie experiences around things like The Perks of Being a Wallflower or Easy A or The Hunger Games, The Fault in our Stars, The Hate U Give, Love Simon, TASM, Lady Bird, Booksmart etc. Not to say these movies, or the movies of the 2010s in general are inherently better, but there was a lot more variety and we were starting to see better messaging from our media.

I think too, as some of the older people in the fandom, we’ve had a long time to think about things and regret them — things I did and said at 16 are now things that happened 2 decades ago, and if you’re only 16, or 20, or even 26, you don’t really have a frame of reference for how much things have changed over 2 decades, or how much you have, because well… you were a baby 2 decades ago. And that’s not a bad thing, but I think it’s hard to realize how much people can change in that amount of time, especially as adults, if you haven’t lived that many years yourself or had that amount of time to change, or the changes you’ve made are going from pre-verbal to verbal. We all have different life experiences and we can’t categorize them as better or worse BECAUSE they’re all different, but if we can’t accept that people live different lives I mean… what are we doing? There are honestly some people in this fandom I would never want to know in person because their opinions are (at this point) that you need to be held to your actions in the past and that people can never change.

I do think people who do bad things and never change should be held accountable. In our little tv world, they’ve really framed Tommy as someone who has changed, and that he and the 118 have overcome his previous shitty behaviour and actions. I mean, the bar scene from Bobby Begins? I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m not spending time outside of work with coworkers I don’t like, and ESPECIALLY not in small settings. Like, if Chim and Hen still didn’t like Tommy then, why would he be there? Even at the end of Hen Begins (our first intro to Tommy in the timeline of episodes airing), he and Sal are shaking hands with her and saying she did good work by the end of the episode. And it cuts to them after the Chief says that several coworkers had submitted complaints on her behalf, coworkers PLURAL, so not just Chimney. Storytelling implication is that it’s the coworkers that would speak to her after that meeting.

Anyways! I just resonate with Tommy as a millennial who came out later, who said some shitty things and did some shitty things and probably treated people shittily in the past, but who has also learned and grown and become a better person since then.

You know, as clunky as Josh's Glee speech was, I really think the SPIRIT of it reveals just why Tommy is such a divisive character, and I honestly think it's because Tommy is AT LEAST an "elder millenial" and possibly late Gen X (cause fuck a timeline am I right?) and portrayed pretty accurately to that experience, and a lot of the people who are so rabidly against him are much younger. And they just cannot fathom the world that queer millennials, elder millenials, and Gen X grew up in and had to survive in. Like, the rules were different guys. So, so different.

So yeah, it makes perfect sense to me that Tommy resonated DEEPLY with a lot of older queer people and a lot of younger people just don't understand why he would.

#tommy kinard #if tommy has no fans I’m dead #🧂🧂🧂

522 notes · View notes

poppyquills · 2 days ago

Note

Please do genshin women voicelines about their S/Os :333

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Voicelines about their S/O | Genshin women ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

⋆˚✿˖° characters -> Lynette, Furina, Navia, Arlecchino, Ei, Yae Miko, Ningguang, Ganyu, Shenhe.

⋆˚✿˖° warnings -> none.

⋆˚✿˖° content includes -> fluff, very silly.

LYNETTE:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "They’re a calming presence, much like the purr of a content feline. I value their quiet understanding more than they might realize."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Jealous? No... but I do watch carefully. If anyone steps out of line with them, they’ll have me to answer to."

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "Even amidst the chaos of Fontaine’s theaters, I ensure they are never neglected. Their happiness matters more than the applause of a crowd."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "We enjoy the silence together. A quiet walk or sipping tea under the moonlight—it’s the perfect way to recharge."

FURINA:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "Ah, my darling! They’re the most fascinating and delightful person in all of Fontaine! Even the whole of Teyvat! Truly, no one compares to their radiance."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "What? Someone dares to steal their attention from me? Hah, they must be bold! They do not stand a chance with them!"

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "My acting career comes second to them. I would pause the grandest of performances if it meant ensuring their happiness."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "I love taking them to extravagant places—opera houses, banquets... anywhere I can show them off. And if we’re alone, I’ll perform just for them."

NAVIA:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "They are my anchor, my brightest star. With them by my side, I feel like I can face anything, even the darkest days."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Oh, I trust them completely, but if anyone flirts with them? Let’s just say my words have a sharper edge than my claymore."

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "They always come first. Even in the middle of my duties, I make time to ensure they feel loved and cared for."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "I adore baking with them. Sharing laughter over flour-covered counters is a memory I’ll cherish forever."

ARLECCHINO:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "They are my peace in a world of chaos. For them, I would tear apart the very foundation of Teyvat if necessary."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Jealous? Hah. I don’t get jealous. But I do make it clear—very clear—who they belong to. No one dares to test me."

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "The Fatui may demand my loyalty, but my heart belongs to them. They are my greatest and only true priority."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "Quiet evenings at home, just the two of us. That’s all I need—just them, where no one can intrude."

RAIDEN EI:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "They are my eternity—not in the sense of unchanging time, but in the warmth and purpose they bring to my existence."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Jealousy? I do not experience it in the way mortals do. However, if anyone disrespects them, they will meet my blade."

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "I may be the Electro Archon, but their well-being will always take precedence. They are the balance to my duty."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "I enjoy watching them explore Inazuma’s beauty. Their joy in small things reminds me of what truly matters."

YAE MIKO:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "My little darling. They are endlessly amusing, endearing, and the one person I find myself truly caring for. How delightful."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Oh, I’m not jealous. I simply ensure that anyone who tries to take their attention ends up... preoccupied. Isn’t that fair?"

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "I’m always busy, but I make time for them. After all, what’s the point of eternity if I can’t spend it teasing my beloved?"

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "Curling up together with a good book at the shrine. Simple, quiet moments like these are where I find true joy."

NINGGUANG:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "They are my most precious treasure, more valuable than anything in the Jade Chamber. Their presence completes me."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Jealousy? Hm. I prefer to think of it as ensuring what is mine remains mine. Subtlety and grace keep rivals at bay."

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "Liyue will always be my duty, but they are my heart. I will never let the two conflict."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "A quiet dinner overlooking Liyue Harbor. Just us, the stars, and the gentle waves. It’s perfection."

GANYU:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "They bring me peace in a life of endless duties. With them, I feel... human, in a way I’ve never experienced before."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Oh, I’m not one to get jealous. But if someone seems overly friendly, I might... politely intervene."

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "It’s hard to balance work and love, but I make time for them. Their happiness is worth everything."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "I love taking them to quiet fields of qingxin flowers, where we can rest and enjoy the serenity together."

SHENHE:

⋆˚✿˖° What she thinks of you: "They are my tether to humanity. Without them, I might lose myself entirely. Their presence is... comforting."

⋆˚✿˖° Jealousy: "Jealousy is foreign to me, but if anyone tries to harm them or steal their attention, I will ensure they regret it."

⋆˚✿˖° Priorities: "They are my top priority. I have little else in this world to call my own, but their happiness means everything to me."

⋆˚✿˖° Free Time: "I enjoy taking them to the mountains. The quiet, the view, and their company—it’s all I need to feel at peace."

196 notes · View notes

wandering-pirate · 2 days ago

Text

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

The Crew Found Your "Emergency Snacks"

Captain Curly

Received a month’s worth of scolding, probably set a new record, until you broke out the puppy eyes. The man folded like a lawn chair

Your ego kinda hurt, tho

Confiscated the stash for “safety purposes,” of course

But later, as you were searching for him, you heard that unmistakable crinkle

Turning the corner, you locked eyes with Curly mid-sweetener-binge, guilt written all over his face

You? Yeah, if murder was a look, it'd be yours. His spine shivered, rethinking how you rivalled his mama's look

"Look, I can expla--"

"Wow, cap, just wow"

Let’s just say… compromises were made that day to keep his “responsible captain” reputation intact

Co-pilot Jimmy

Stoic. Cold. Unforgiving. That’s all you saw in Jimmy’s eyes when he caught you

When you asked for him to keep his mouth shut, the co-pilot tilted his head, unimpressed

“Please don’t tell Curly!”

“Beg.”

“Wh—what?”

The audacity to turn his back on you and started walking away

“You had your chance.”

Next thing you knew, you were on your knees, clutching his pant leg like your life depended on it

“Please, Jimmy! Please, please!”

“Captain.”

“Wha—?”

“Say please, Captain.”

You left with your dignity in tatters, but hey, at least the stash was safe

Silently questioned his mental stability after that

Mechanic Swansea

You expected a lecture when he caught you: bulky, log-like arms crossed, face unreadable

Disappointed? Angry? Thinking about dinner? Who knows

You know you only had one way out:

“I’ll share.”

“Deal.”

Seemed easy enough until dinner rolled around, and Swansea casually claimed your entire portion of food

You tried to stand your ground, sticking your tongue out like a defiant kid, but he just smirked

“Cap, about that stock that disappeared last mont—”

He didn’t even finish before you scraped your plate into his. His smirk got bigger

“Easy there, Y/N. Dint know yer so eager to feed an old dog like me.”

Nurse Anya

Caught you mid-sneak with a mouthful of granola. Lucky for you, she’s a nurse. Unlucky for you, she had to Heimlich the oats out of your throat

You coughed up half a granola bar, wheezing your thanks while she doubled over laughing

“You can thank me with some of that stash,” she teased

You were so mortified that you actually stopped hoarding snacks… for about a week. After that, you couldn’t even look her in the eye without turning red

One dinner, the meal was oats. You looked like death warmed over just sitting there, your bowl untouched

Curly frowned. “You okay, Y/N?”

Anya, with the save: “Oh, Cap. Y/N has an oat allergy.”

You gave her a grateful smile. She winked. Meanwhile, Daisuke inhaled your bowl. Unfazed cause his second bowl is a gift

Intern Daisuke

The deal was simple: split the stash 50-50. But Daisuke never knew about your extra stash

When he found out? Heart. Shattered. The man had literal tears in his eyes

“Y/N, how could you?”

He stormed off like the lead in a romcom breakup scene, leaving you grumbling to yourself. But guilt eventually got you, and you chased him down

He whipped around so fast it was like a soap opera in real-time: one hand clutching his (Hawaiian-shirt) heart, the other thrown over his forehead like he was aboutta faint

“Dai, I’m sorry!”

“Words can’t heal this wound.”

“Fine, 75% of next week’s stash is yours.”

“…Aight, cool.”

All of this happened while the entire crew watched from the sidelines, legit done with both your antics (except a certain giggling nurse, who was very entertained)

Swandad claimed 10% of the share after his intern accidentally got caught. Y'all had another breakup scene, this time with you starring it

a/n: happy new year to y'all! hoping for this year to be kind to us ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

283 notes · View notes

clarkevision · 3 days ago

Text

George Clarkey | Interruptions

Summary: You and George are on a date when you are interrupted

The restaurant was perfect, in that understated way George always seemed to find. Cozy booths lined the walls, each lit with the warm glow of hanging Edison bulbs, and soft jazz music hummed in the background. It wasn’t too fancy, but it wasn’t casual either—just the right amount of charm to make the night feel special.

George sat across from you, his elbow resting on the table, his chin propped in his hand as he gave you that familiar, mischievous smile. His hair was slightly messy, like he hadn’t quite managed to tame it before he left the house, and his shirt—simple but fitted—clung just enough to remind you why you couldn’t stop looking at him.

“So,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “did I manage to impress you with my choice of venue? Or are you going to roast me for not picking somewhere with a view of the Thames?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think this place is perfect. Honestly, I’m more impressed you didn’t go for something over-the-top ridiculous. No themed restaurants, no 20-course tasting menus… Who are you, and what have you done with George Clarkey?”

He gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his chest. “Wow. I invite you on a romantic evening, and this is how you repay me? Ruthless.”

“Romantic evening, huh?” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “That’s a big claim for someone who picked a place based on its five-star Yelp reviews.”

“Okay, first of all, Yelp doesn’t even exist here. And second, it’s not the restaurant that makes it romantic—it’s me,” he said, leaning back with a self-satisfied grin.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Sure, George. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter gave way to softer, quieter moments. Between bites of food and sips of wine, you talked about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, places you wanted to visit, the kind of future you dreamed of.

George had a way of making even the smallest things feel important. He listened like every word you said mattered, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression shifting with every twist and turn of the conversation. It was in those moments that you felt the depth of what you had with him—something that went beyond the jokes and banter, something real.

“You know,” he said, his voice lower now, “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“What, dinner?” you asked, feigning nonchalance even as your heart started to race.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “You. Spending time with you. Just… being with you.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. He always had this way of catching you off guard, saying something so genuine and unexpected that it left you speechless.

“You’re such a sap,” you finally said, but your smile betrayed how much his words had meant to you.

“Only for you,” he said, grinning as he reached across the table to take your hand in his.

By the time the plates were cleared and the bill was paid, the restaurant had begun to empty out, leaving just a handful of tables occupied. The soft hum of the music and the dim lighting made the space feel even more intimate, like the rest of the world had melted away.

As you both stood to leave, George hesitated for a moment, glancing around before looking back at you. “Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I just… I don’t want the night to end yet,” he admitted, stepping closer. “Can we stay a little longer?”

You nodded, unable to hide your smile. “Of course.”

He led you over to a quieter corner of the restaurant, where a small booth sat tucked away from the main floor. The atmosphere felt different now—more private, more charged. As you slid into the booth, George sat beside you instead of across, his leg brushing against yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, George reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said softly.

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second.

You kissed him back, your heart racing as you leaned into him, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you closer. The world outside seemed to disappear entirely, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, stolen moment.

But then—

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

You froze, your lips still inches from George’s, as the unmistakable voice of Arthur Hill cut through the air like a knife.

Slowly, you turned your head to see him standing at the entrance of the restaurant, holding a pint in one hand and wearing a grin so wide it could rival the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, your face burning with embarrassment as you pulled away from George.

Arthur, clearly enjoying himself, sauntered over, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Clarkey, mate, you didn’t tell me you were going on a date tonight. Thought we were mates, huh?”

George groaned, running a hand down his face. “Arthur, can you not?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be shy now,” Arthur teased, plopping down on the seat across from you. “You two looked very cozy back there. Don’t let me interrupt—carry on.”

You buried your face in your hands, mortified. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you mumbled.

George laughed softly, clearly torn between annoyance and amusement. “Arthur, seriously, can you not ruin this for me?”

“Ruin it? I’m enhancing the moment,” Arthur said, gesturing broadly. “What’s more romantic than a third wheel with excellent commentary?”

You peeked out from behind your hands, shooting him a glare. “You’re the worst.”

“I’ve been told that,” he said, unfazed. “But honestly, I’m happy for you two. Clarkey’s been talking about you non-stop for weeks, so it’s nice to finally see him make a move.”

Your eyes widened, and you turned to George. “You’ve been talking about me?”

George’s face went red, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… maybe a little.”

Arthur snorted. “A little? Mate, you’ve been practically writing poetry.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” George said, standing up and grabbing Arthur by the arm. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Arthur laughed but didn’t resist as George dragged him toward the door. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you two get back to your little love fest. But just so you know—I’m telling Chris all about this.”

“You do that,” George said, shoving him out the door.

As George returned to the table, his cheeks still faintly pink, you couldn’t help but laugh. “That was… something.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, sitting down beside you again. “Arthur has a talent for showing up at the worst possible moments.”

“It’s fine,” you said, smiling. “Honestly, it’s kind of funny. In a horrifying, mortifying sort of way.”

George grinned, taking your hand in his again. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad we had this night. Even with the interruption.”

“Me too,” you said softly, leaning into him.

And as the night went on, you realized that no amount of interruptions could take away from what you had with George. Because even in the most awkward, unexpected moments, he still made you feel like the only person in the world.

#fanfic #fanfiction #george clarke fics #george clarke x reader #george clarke fluff #george clarkey #george clarkey fic #george clarkey x reader #arthur hill #george clarke #british youtubers

149 notes · View notes

yamumsyadadd · 2 days ago

Text

the forgotten girl (10)

Originally posted on my old account. Uploading twice weekly :)

The following morning I woke up to a pounding headache, Keira sleeping peacefully next to me. My eyes hurt, a tell tale sign that I’ve been crying. My suspicions were confirmed when I made my way to the bathroom. Red, swollen eyes. The memories were a little fuzzy, I remember dancing with Misa and Alba, Alexia pulling me outside, she was mad? I remember she said she loved me.

Alexia loved me. I loved Alexia.

As I paced back and forth in the bedroom, unable to stop because my brain was going so fast, Keira slowly woke up.

“Milly what are you doing? What time is it?”

“Tell me she didn’t say she loved me outside the club last night?”

Signing as Keira looked at her phone “it’s only 6am, please come back to bed. It’s too early for this.”

“No no no no. Keira this can not be happening. This is bad. Very very bad. I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Hey Mil. Stop. You love her. You always have, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem? The problem is that I can’t love her Keira! It’s not a fucking option. I need to go. “

“Milly wait!” keira got up as fast as she could. But it was too late. I was gone, out the door. I couldn’t go home, that was the first place she would go. The gym would be the next, the beach would be the last placed she go, especially considering it was raining now.

After I had left, Keira rang Lucy panicking. Lucy rang Ona, who rang Claudia, who rang Patri, Patri rang Mapi and Mapi rang Alexia. It’s safe to say everyone started to panic. Thinking I was running away again, the thought was there but I couldn’t do that to the team.

Surfing was freeing for me. Sitting on the board, pretty far out gave me a chance to think without anyone around. I loved Alexia, but this didn’t feel right. None of this felt right. I had always dreamed about some fairytale ending for us but it never happened. Maybe if I had listened to her and not married Emily, things would be different. We only lasted a month, does that even count as being married? I wasn’t particularly interested in catching the waves, just wanted to think without anyone around to disturb me. As I made my way back to land, I noticed her. Drenched, sitting in the wet sand.

“Everyone’s looking for you.”

“Well tell them to stop. I’m not lost.” My tone was harsh, I didn’t mean for it to be. Not really.

“Mil, we need to talk about it.”

“Talk about what Alexia? You being jealous last night? You and Olga breaking up? You being in love with me? Me being in love with you? Pick a subject and I’ll talk.”

“You love me back?” Whispering, She looked at me wide eyed, almost as if I’d take it back. I would.

“Pick a different one.”

“No. I want to talk about the fact that you’re in love with me too.”

“I’m not doing this.” I tried to walk away. I couldn’t do this.

“Don’t walk away from me Amelia!” I stopped. Not turning around to look at her, I couldn’t. “Please stop running away from me Mil.” The last few words came out broken. She was crying.

“Why can’t you just let me love you? That’s all I want Mil!”

“Because every time you say that all I see is her! I could’ve let you love me before Emily! But I didn’t. Instead I’m the reason she’s dead and the reason your heart was broken. All I see when I look at you is the pain and destruction I’ve caused but you look at me like I put the stars in the sky. So full of love and care. I can’t do that Alexia. It’s too much.”

Suddenly arms wrap around me, not alexia’s because she’s standing in front of me. “Hija, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Eli. The mother I never had.

“It’s too much Eli please.”

“Come. I will take you home. Alexia, let’s go please.”

“Mami no.”

“Now Alexia.”

Alba was waiting at my apartment when we arrived. It was all too much. Alexia’s family treated me like their own, despite the pain I’ve caused, the devastation I’ve caused. They were soft, too soft.

I headed straight for the shower. Ignoring the way Alba looked at me, or the way Eli called out to me. I needed to be alone. This isnt what I wanted to have happened. I hoped that after all this time Alexia wouldn’t love me and I could pretend to not love her.

The shower was scolding hot. Even through my clothes which I didn’t bother to take off. I thought it would make me feel better, feel something. I didn’t realise how much time had passed until Alba came in.

“Mil? Are you okay?” Silence. “Milly?” No response. “Amelia I’m coming in.” The alarm in her voice got the attention of Eli and Alexia.

“Milly can you hear me? Fuck this water is boiling.” Alba tried turning it off but it was too hot.

“Move Alba. Get me a towel.” Alexia turned off the water, taking the towel from her sister. “Can you get me some clothes for her and give us some space please?” Without even realising it, Ale had picked me up and taken me to the counter.

“I’m going to undress you now, okay? If you need me to stop tell me and I’ll stop straight away.” All I could muster was a nod.

There was nothing sexual about it. She moved as quickly and carefully as she could. Removing my shirt and bather top, drying me then putting an old oversized shirt on, carefully lifting me up to remove my skirt and bather bottoms. I flinched when she did that, hoping she didn’t notice but she did.

“Do you need me to stop?” She pulled away quickly, noticing my eyes screwed shut. Shaking my head, she continued. She quickly pulled my underwear up, then lifted me up and carried me to bed. As she was about to leave I stopped her.

“Ale please stay. Don’t leave me, please.” I begged.

“I’ll be right back bebé, I’m just getting some water.”

She was right back, putting a water bottle on my side, plugging my phone into the charge, then making her way to the other side. Climbing in and pulling me onto her chest. That’s how I fell asleep. The exhaustion of what happened last night and today hitting me.

#woso fanfics #fcb femení #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia x reader #woso community #mapi león #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #keira walsh x reader #keira walsh #keira walsh x lucy bronze

114 notes · View notes

la2yn0va · 2 days ago

Text

Some intro dialogues with their s/o

Game: Marvel Rivals

Characters: Magik, Luna, Star Lord, Winter Soldier

(Short cause I still need to learn the lore of this game and the characters)

——

Magik

Magik: Stay close. I’ll prevent any of your blood being spilled.

M/n: That’s sweet Illyana. But I can take—

Magik: I wasn’t. Asking.

…

M/n: Magik, Whoever gets the least KO’s pays for dinner

Magik: Hmm? Do you truly wish for defeat this much love?

M/n: Don’t worry, your dinner will be you eating those words.

….

Magik: With us fighting together, our victory is assured.

M/n: Obviously, just feel bad that they’ll go back to their timeline with their pride destroyed.

Magik: That’s not the only thing that’ll be broken.

…

M/n: Illyana, is it cool if you do the heavy lifting? I’m getting sleepy.

Magik: I do not mind. Come. I’ll allow you to rest on me.

M/n: During battle…? Yeah no, better if I just power through.

Luna Snow

Luna: M/n—

M/n: I’m not singing to you.

Luna:…sheesh… could’ve at least let me finish saying it.

….

M/n: Seol, keep me alive yeah?

Luna: Duh~ I wouldn’t love you the same if you were dead.

M/n: Right…that was a stupid thing to say

…

Luna: M/n! We gotta finish this quick!

M/n: Uh… why?

Luna: Our reservation for that fancy restaurant is in 3 hours!

…

M/n: Think about it Luna. This is definitely better quality time then having to be bombarded with the paparazzi and media.

Luna: Yeah.. least this way I can assault without it being a crime.

M/n: Now your learning my language hot stuff. Or.. cold stuff….?

Star Lord

Peter: Aww yeah!! Time to—!!

M/n: Quill. Loud doesn’t equal attractiveness.

Peter: okay sorry.

…

M/n: Yo Pete! Got some bangers on that headphone?

Peter: Ya know it hot stuff!

M/n: Well don’t hog it, come on over space boy

….

Peter: Hey! After this, let’s go to the bar!

M/n: Pete… I don’t want to have—

Peter: Da— HA HO HEE wait! Hold on! I didn’t— why would you—!

…

M/n: Peter, if you carry this battle, I’ll kiss you.

Peter: Only one kiss? Come on babe, I come in high demand.

M/n:…Two and half kisses.

Winter Soldier

Bucky: Long way from Brooklyn, ay m/n?

M/n: As long as I’m with you, I’ll always be content

Bucky: You always know how to lighten my mood.

….

M/n: What else can that metal arm do?

Bucky: Uh… now isn’t the time to—

M/n: Dude, I was talking about battle. Save that stuff for the bedroom.

…

Bucky: If hydra comes from you, I’ll end them

M/n: Pretty sure you’d do that anyway. But it’s nice to know you’re protective of me.

Bucky: Obviously.

….

M/n: Bucky, wanna switch weapons for this?

Bucky: Nah. Don’t think I can handle anything you have going on.

M/n: Oh? We oughta test that theory out.

…

The end, this shit sucked 😭

85 notes · View notes

ssaluss · 3 days ago

Text

This one in particular gave me ideas, im sleep deprived and my wisdom teeth hurts so much i feel it in my eyes, so its perfect for writing lez go.

Him looking different could be an accident depending on wich take you wanna go for his origins, if he was lab created for, idk, GUN getting quirk and wanting something that could counter shadow but obey them, just for this little silver thing that looks useless and physically weaker to appear, they discard the project cause they made it in the molds of the ultimate lifeform and not only it seems weaker it also do not look like him at all so it do look like a failure.

If you go with the biodadow, albinism is a thing and its just cute in general cause i think its funny if silver being this really strong character (he can FLY USING HIS MIND and we dont talk about it enough) just getting sunburned cause he forgot sunscream.

Not trapped into any specific thing (lab, bio, just spawned) it also could just be like a mutation in general that its not commonly found between the blackarms that make them physically weaker but mentally stronger (yeah like rpg stats my boy but them in wisdom and called a day). This ine can tap into the prophecy territory like, these mutated blackarms were attack and distroyed cause their mind wouldn't bend to the hive call and they were so strong they were challenging their leader ignoring the call and even assuming control of others, that's why they were exterminated and every B.A. with the mutation were quickly terminated, but as they don't exist in silver's time, and anyway he got this alien DNA, his chaos signature and his DNA just worked together for him to get this mutation.

Now, im going to get this last bit and tie it along with him constantly having the white noise AND why shadow just don't interact much with him in cannon, lets dive into it and i really need painkillers now.

So, as i said before, he has an unique mind and control over the call, the concept for some reason remembered me of the force in star wars, whatever, so, as his mind is stronger he can just always be in tune, but as most of his futures are apocalyptic and idk from wich he came, he just don't know what he's doing, he feels like he should hear something, sometimes he even gets this feeling someone is reaching out (in the hypotesis of shadow being trapped like in 06 or something like that). The white noise is there cause he can't turn it out, he can turn it down, but its always in the back of his mind.

When he travels back in time, shadow is not a fan of being too close to him and always seems annoyed when he tries to be polite (i like my silver with edge so i like when he's salty like the 14 year old teenager boy that he is). Shadow's actually feeling some connection, he doesn't like it one bit cause it feels like its gnawling in his brain and he can't point out why, silver came from the future and all but he doesn't seem to know him so why does he feels that way? It clicks when, someday, the gang is called and everyone is there to help, even the future boy, shadow's there fighting when he feels something is wrong, a sharp feeling in the back of his head, soom followed by a familiar voice ecoing inside his head, the words clear...

"HELP ME!"

People talking about what if Shadow was Silver’s dad y’know but NOT ONCE have I seen anyone say that if that’s true, then Silver has black arms blood

#i can't write to save my life #going to get the painkillers now #i need to sleep #like really #sonic fanfiction #reblog #silver the hedgehog #dadow #sorry for the long a response #i did my best #i tried so hard #and got so far #but in the end #it doesnt even matter #CAUSE ITS ALMOST 4AM WHY I DO THIS

197 notes · View notes

carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 day ago

Text

it's the next best thing - part three (ao3)

part one || part two

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson || ~22k, complete || phone sex || accidental love confessions || there was only one bed || getting together || mutual pining || porn with plot || smut || wet & messy || friends with benefits || oral sex || rimming

This is the final installment of my gift for @eyesofshinigami for @steddieexchange!

Eddie keeps calling, and Steve always answers. He wears a watch now, wants to count down the seconds until he’ll be able to hear Eddie’s voice again.

He doesn’t want to put a name to the thing fluttering around in his chest as the sound of Eddie’s voice filters down the line. Sometimes, Eddie invites him over, and that’s worse somehow. His skin aches to touch, cross any distance Eddie places between them in his bed, on his couch, in his van at the quarry, smoking together and watching the stars.

The phone sex is slowly replaced with the real thing, hands and bodies fumbling together in the darkness of Eddie’s room.

Eddie still calls, always, updating him on the latest Hellfire session, how Corroded Coffin is doing, what he’s been up to all day.

Sometimes Steve comes over, and they don’t even fuck. On those nights, settled in Eddie’s bed, listening to his even breathing, Steve has to remind himself that this is what friends do. It doesn’t mean anything that Eddie sleeps so soundly at his side, and it doesn’t mean anything when he wakes up with Eddie’s arms around him, face nuzzled into Steve’s neck, breaths puffing wetly against his neck, morning wood pressed into Steve’s hip.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Robin asks, head propped up by her hands, arms crossed beneath her head, elbow linked with Steve who’s laying right beside her.

They’ve been camped out in the Buckley’s living room all day, spending one of their rare days off together watching movies and tossing popcorn into each other’s mouths. When Robin had missed one too many times, she’d retaliated against Steve by dumping her entire bowl of extra-buttery popcorn atop his head.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Steve whispers back, not looking away from the Buckley’s popcorn ceiling even as he feels Robin shift at his side.

He feels Robin’s arm slip free from his own, leaving him bereft. But then she’s hovering over him, cupping his cheeks with hands still slippery with butter and staring deeply into his eyes. “That boy is head over heels for you, dingus,” she says, not even blinking. When Steve tries to avert his gaze, she grabs his face more tightly, fingernails digging into skin. “It’s impossible not to be in love with you, okay?”

There’s a knot lodged in his throat as he stares up at the other half of his soul. “You’re not.”

She slaps him lightly, hit gentled even further by her oily palm. “I’m a lesbian,” she hisses, voice quiet like even though they’d gone out hours ago, she’s afraid her parents might hear her. “And you know I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

“I always wanted a sexless marriage,” Steve replies.

“That’s what Eddie’s for.”

Steve shoves her off and wrestles her to the ground. They grapple like children, but Steve’s laughing now, hope bubbling out of him at every seam, like all he’d needed was Robin’s words to be able to picture a future he wants to grow old in.

Steve and Robin, a sexless marriage, and Eddie in his bed, at his side, so intertwined with his life that they’d need a crowbar to pry him out.

Robin wins the wrestling match, forearm against his chest pressing him down into the carpet. Steve’s future’s spooling out in front of him, he can almost taste the too-sweet coffee Eddie would make every morning, the rubbery eggs Eddie and Robin would serve with pride.

“You really think he likes me?” Steve asks, quiet, hopeful, wistful.

Robin snorts and drops down to his chest, rubbing her face against his shirt. “That boy’s in love with you,” she says with so much confidence that Steve almost believes her. “No way in hell he’s just in it for the sex.”

Steve hums but doesn’t reply. There’s nothing to say, no way to describe the squirming, writhing feelings lodged beneath his sternum, kicked up into a flurry by Robin’s words. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes tight, burying his nose in her hair, Sandra Dee serenading Danny Zuko on the TV behind them.

The movie plays to its inevitable conclusion: the boy always gets the girl in the movies, and as the credits roll, Steve glances down at his watch.

He jumps up on instinct, sending Robin sprawling on the carpet with a grunt. “The fuck?”

“It’s almost nine!” Steve cries rushing around the Buckley’s living room, picking up his wallet and keys from where they’d fallen out of his pocket. “I missed it!”

“Just call him,” Robin says, propping herself up on her elbows but otherwise not moving from where he’d left her.

“I don’t have his number,” Steve replies, already stuffing his feet into his sneakers, heels crushing the backs as he tries to wedge them on without having to untie them.

Eddie calls him, always. Steve has never called him back, has never had to.

“I do!” Robin calls, but Steve barely hears her, already out of the house and toward his car, ready to break every speed limit in the book to get to the Munson’s trailer in record time.

What will Eddie think? Will he be worried? Will he think Steve forgot about him? Or worse, will he not care at all?

He peels out of the Buckley’s drive and speeds like his life depends on it.

***

For the first time, Steve doesn’t answer when Eddie calls. Keith had hung up on him after confirming that Steve was off that day, and the Harrington house had just rang and rang before kicking him to the answering machine.

He doesn’t leave a message.

Is this the beginning of the end? First a few missed phone calls, and then pretty soon Eddie hasn’t seen Steve in three weeks. Ten years down the line they’ll pass each other in the grocery store and give those polite little head nods that people give when they used to know someone and don’t anymore.

He collapses onto the couch, pulling the blanket from its back to huddle into as his brain ticks away. It’s just—he knows there could be a million reasons Steve didn’t answer. Really, he does. But, this thing they have has always had an expiration date on it, and he can feel that thought curdling in his brain like rotten milk.

When someone knocks on the door, he doesn’t get up.

The knocks get quicker and louder, like whoever’s out there thinks he might not have heard them. Eddie should open the door before they bust it down, but he’s too busy being in his blanket cocoon, wallowing in his tragic, unrequited feelings.

When the door opens, he freezes.

Footsteps sound into the room, sounding loud against the carpet. Who just walks into someone else’s home when they don’t answer? A robber? But, no, they wouldn’t knock, would they?

“Eddie?”

He bolts up, peering over the back of the couch, blanket still around his shoulders. There, Steve Harrington stands, hair all fucked up like he’d been running his hands through it, eyes trained unerringly on Eddie where he sits, stupefied.

Steve’s wearing the same goddamn sweats as the first time he’d come over, with a cutoff Bowie shirt that has Buckley written all over it, cut short enough that Eddie can see his happy trail, and just the hint of his belly button.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, and it’s only as his voice scratches out of his throat that he realizes he must’ve been crying.

Steve must realize at the exact same time because he says, “have you been crying?” as he takes three quick strides to hover over Eddie, grabbing his cheeks in both hands and rubbing the tacky tear stains off his skin. Eddie averts his gaze, glancing down so he doesn’t have to look at Steve’s imploring face, but that puts him looking directly at his hairy stomach and that’s no better.

Even now, Eddie wants to lick it.

“No,” Eddie says, not looking up until Steve moves one of his hands to below Eddie’s chin and forces his face up.

“Why have you been crying?” Steve asks quietly.

Eddie swallows. It’s loud in the quiet of the living room, no background noise to mask the sound. “You didn’t answer,” he says, and it feels telling, somehow. Like Steve will hear the confession lurking beneath the words.

Steve sighs and sinks down to his knees, putting his face just below Eddie’s, the couch creating a barrier between them that aches like an open wound. “I was at Robin’s,” Steve says, still holding Eddie’s chin gently. “I lost track of time.”

There’s an apology lurking beneath the simple words, and suddenly, Eddie’s so fucking tired of the way they talk around each other, neither saying what they actually mean. “I thought maybe you were done with me,” Eddie says, voice rasping, unused to saying the honest truth.

“No,” Steve blurts, eyes wider than Eddie’s ever seen them. He crowds into Eddie’s space as much as he can with the couch in the way. “Never Eddie, I love you.”

While Eddie’s entire world shifts and rearranges with those words, he sees the exact moment Steve realizes what he just said. His face blanches, eyes widening even further, so much white showing on the edges of that beautiful brown until he sinks down on his heels, wrenching his hands free of Eddie so he can use them to cover his own face.

Eddie stares at him, words ringing in his head. I love you, I love you, I love you. Eddie’s never heard them before, not in this setting, from someone who isn’t Uncle Wayne. The feeling bursts through him, a supernova of light that has him leaning precariously over the back of the couch to yank Steve’s hands off of his face so he can stare into his wide, startled, beautiful eyes, as he asks, “do you really?”

Before Steve even has a chance to answer, Eddie’s leaned too far and toppled off of the couch, sending them both sprawling into the carpet. His elbow smacks into the ground and he doesn’t even care, too busy crawling onto Steve’s supine form and kissing anywhere he can reach. “Really, Stevie?” he asks between each press of lips. “Do you?”

“Yes?” Steve replies, sounding so unsure that Eddie can’t help what he does next.

For the first time, Eddie presses his lips into Steve’s and takes what he’s wanted all along: everything Steve will give him.

***

Steve’s head aches dully from where it smacked against the floor, but he doesn’t care. Eddie’s lips are soft against his. Steve lays on the Munson’s dirty carpet, unmoving with shock as Eddie presses gentle kiss after gentle kiss into Steve’s unresponsive lips. His eyes are open as he stares up at the shadows Eddie’s lashes create on his cheeks, elongated in the dim slanting light filtering across him from the floor ramp in the corner of the living room.

There’s a dreamy quality to Steve’s thoughts as they tumble around his brain—he’s already mourning the moment he wakes up.

It feels like dying when Eddie pulls back, eyes open now, and mouth frowning down at him. “Sorry, did I misread that?” he asks, squinting down at Steve. “It’s just, you said—and I thought—shit, I’m sorry!”

It’s as Eddie starts to get up, scrambling out of his lap like it’s radioactive, that Steve begins to realize that he’s in the Munson’s living room, awake and aflame with an aching want as the man he loves clambers off of him because Steve didn’t kiss him back.

He didn’t kiss him back.

“No!” Steve cries, too loud in the quiet of the room, arms reaching behind Eddie’s back and yanking him down. Eddie’s bony hips bite into his skin, but Steve doesn’t care. “No, you didn’t—just, what’s happening, man?”

Eddie stops trying to escape, palms big and sure against Steve’s chest as he props himself up, squinting down at Steve in blatant confusion. “Well, first you said you loved me,” Eddie replies, tapping one of his fingers against Steve’s sternum like he’s counting out the order of events for him. “I said it, too, and then you didn’t kiss me back, so I’m lost here… man.”

Eddie’s mouth twists wryly as he tacks on the last word, mockingly amused by Steve the way he always is. Steve notices the smile, he notices everything about Eddie, but his mind’s too caught on Eddie’s words to appreciate it.

“You didn’t,” Steve replies, something unrecognizable in his voice—wonder, maybe. Awe. Eddie’s got a little confused furrow between his brows, so Steve reaches out to smooth it out. “You love me?”

Eddie’s eyes blow wide, brows going up until his forehead’s all crinkled up. “I didn’t?” It’s a question, but Eddie’s already nodding before Steve gets a chance to answer, sharp enough to knock Steve’s hand off from between his eyes. Steve trails it down, settling fingertips lightly against Eddie’s cheekbone, thumb rubbing reverently against his jawline.

Eddie leans forward, fingers trailing up over his chest, over his neck, big hands cupping the expanse of both Steve’s cheeks as he leans down, close enough that all Steve can see is the dark brown expanses of Eddie’s eyes.

“Steve Harrington,” he says, voice solemn. Steve’s gaze flickers back and forth, trying to read every little thought that flits behind those beautiful eyes. “I love you.”

Steve sucks in a breath, and it lodges there, somewhere deep in his lungs. The silence hangs between them, charged with enough electricity to restart his heart.

“…man,” Eddie tacks on again, and Steve chokes on a laugh, breath rushing out of him as Eddie grins, every one of his teeth on display.

“You’re the fucking worst,” Steve whispers as he drags Eddie down, any reply he might have gotten trapped between their mouths.

It’s all teeth at first, Eddie laughing into the kiss until Steve sucks Eddie’s bottom lip into his mouth and bites down hard enough to make him gasp. Steve takes the invitation that’s given, swiping his tongue shallowly into Eddie’s panting mouth just to listen to him whine.

The sound activates something in Steve—something dark that just wants to take. Steve shoves at Eddie’s shoulder hard enough to knock him off Steve’s lap and onto his side on the carpet. He keeps shoving until Eddie’s on his back, pupils blown, hair in a fucked up halo around his head as he looks up at Steve reverently, as if he’s the one that’s divine.

He wastes no time crawling over Eddie’s body, pushing at his knees until his legs are spread wide, kept open by Steve’s weight settling between them.

Eddie, always easy, is already gasping and writhing beneath him, humping up against Steve erratically, desperately trying to get any pressure against the bulge in his jeans. Steve leans back far enough that he can press his forearm into Eddie’s hips, hard enough to still his movements.

Eddie whines, bucking against his hold. Steve waits, watching his needy face twist into something torturous as Eddie realizes that Steve’s not budging. His eyes are scrunched closed hard enough that stars must be bursting beneath his lids. Winded and petulant, finally, Eddie stills.

Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, until Eddie opens his eyes, lashes wet as he looks up at Steve. He opens his mouth to speak, but clicks it back shut when Steve digs his fingernails gently into Eddie’s hip.

“The fucking worst,” Steve says again.

Eddie swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. Steve wants to tip Eddie’s chin up, bite against that spot, suck on it until Eddie begs him to stop.

But then Steve flicks his eyes back up at Eddie’s face, and he gets caught on his lips. His mouth’s slick with spit, bottom lip plumped from Steve sucking on it. When Eddie’s tongue darts out and wets them further, Steve’s lost.

He’s powerless to resist removing his hold from Eddie’s hips, letting their bodies slide back together so he can kiss Eddie’s wanting mouth. Eddie writhes against him again, hips rabbiting up. Steve wants to press him back into the carpet, keep his stupid fucking handcuff belt from clacking with his movements, but he can’t bring himself to stop kissing Eddie’s lips long enough to achieve it.

He settles for delving into Eddie’s mouth with his tongue, shoving it far enough back that Eddie chokes on it. He goes slack beneath him, mouth open wide, practically begging Steve to go deeper. He can feel Eddie’s erratic heartbeat from where his hand is cradling his neck, thumb pressed hard into his pulse point.

Only when he feels like he’s about to pass out does Steve leans back far enough to catch his breath. They’re both panting into each other’s open mouths. There’s a tremor running through Eddie’s entire body as he gazes up at Steve, eyes half mast.

“Steve,” he pleads, asking for something with just his eyes.

Steve rubs his neck, soothing him like a lame horse as he asks, “what do you need, baby?”

Eddie’s eyes shut, and he shudders as the term of endearment leaves Steve’s mouth. Steve keeps rubbing his skin, smoothing over acne scars and freckles alike as he waits for Eddie’s brain to come back online.

He opens his eyes, pupils blown all to shit as he looks up at Steve, still silent, still begging.

“What do you need?” Steve asks again.

Eddie swallows, cheeks darkening from a lustful pink to a painful-looking red as he finally, blessedly answers. “In my mouth?” he asks. When all Steve does is continue to rub his neck, he clarifies, blush traveling from the apples of his cheeks all the way to his ears. “Your dick in my—in my mouth.”

Steve leans down to kiss his cheek, the blood pooling beneath Eddie’s skin warm against his lips. “Anything you want,” Steve murmurs against his skin. “Thank you for telling me.”

Eddie shudders, dick twitching against Steve’s from the confines of his pants, but he doesn’t otherwise move as he waits to find out what Steve will do.

What he does is scramble back, too far gone to play it cool any longer as he shoves his sweatpants down just far enough that his painfully hard cock springs free. At the sight of Steve bared before him, Eddie bucks against him again, trying to knock him off. Steve sits down hard, settling his full weight on Eddie, pinning him to the carpet.

Eddie melts, stilling as he looks up at Steve like he’s something precious. It hits Steve straight in the sternum, that look—lust intertwined so inexorably with love that Steve can’t figure out where one ends and the other begins.

No one’s ever looked at him that way before.

Eddie waits beneath him, suddenly a font of patience as he waits for Steve to rise above the tide of emotion, cock still hard in the warm air of the Munson’s living room. The tide swallows him up—Steve lets it, nothing but love in his voice as he grabs his hard length, scoots up Eddie’s supine form, and nudges at his chin until his mouth drops open, warm breaths puffing against where he’s most sensitive.

“Open up,” Steve murmurs, hand moving from his chin, caressing up to his smooth cheek as he slides into Eddie’s warm, open heat.

***

Steve’s weight is pinning Eddie down into the carpet, hand firm enough against his face that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get more than the tip of Steve’s dick into his mouth. He’d lost all sense of time somewhere between Steve telling Eddie he loved him and sliding himself into Eddie, but it feels like hours have passed with Steve shallowly thrusting into his mouth.

Eddie sucks on the head, trying to get a little more, aching to be filled. He whines when Steve pulls back out, pace unhurried as his thighs flex against Eddie’s ribs, barely pressing himself back inside. Eddie moans, low enough in his throat that his tongue vibrates against the head of Steve’s dick. Steve jerks, thrusts in deeper with a grunt.

Steve’s cock’s deep enough that he’s choking on it, mind blank as he gasps for air. “Fuck, your mouth,” Steve mutters as he shifts back, almost pulling himself free entirely.

That’s the idea, Eddie tries to say, words coming out unintelligibly garbled around Steve’s length. The vibrations must feel good because Steve thrusts in again, harder this time, head barely breaching the back of his throat. Eddie whines, scrabbling unseeingly for Steve’s hips, trying to keep him there, so deep that Eddie’s lips are pressed against his pubes.

It doesn’t work, Eddie’s grip is too weak to stop Steve from pulling back as Eddie cries futilely on his cock. But this time, while Eddie sucks hard at the head of Steve’s dick, he thrusts in again, fast enough that it almost hurts.

He does it again. And again. And again, until Eddie’s hands go lax, lost to the sensations playing against his tongue. He swirls it around Steve’s shaft, memorizing the musky taste of his warm skin, senses overwhelmed as he loses all sense of reality.

Steve’s all-consuming, eating up Eddie’s remaining higher brain functions until he can only think in monosyllabic words like more, and fuck, and come. He’s harder than he’s been in his life, dick painfully pressed into the confines of his still-buttoned jeans as he humps up into the air, desperate.

Steve shifts his hand from Eddie’s cheek and into his hair, gripping his tangled tresses to yank his head up, craning his neck uncomfortably as he pushes himself impossibly deeper. Eddie gags, jaw straining around the girth of Steve’s cock, light headed from oxygen deprivation.

Steve pulls out, letting go of the hold on his hair suddenly enough that Eddie’s head thunks into the carpet, eyes staring unseeingly up at the ceiling until Steve’s own worried face blocks it out.

“You okay?” he asks, hands brushing gently against his cheeks, trailing over his neck and down beneath the collar of his shirt like he’s looking for wounds.

“Why’d you stop?” Eddie asks, the sound of his own gravely voice sending another wave of lust through him that has his hips twitching, neck straining to get Steve back in his mouth. “Please, please, please.”

“You’re crying, baby,” Steve whispers, hands still too soft against him.

Eddie blinks, only then noticing the burn of his eyes, the way his eyelashes are clumping together. “Want it,” Eddie begs, voice fucked. “Please.”

Steve stares at him for another endless second, unblinking. Eddie watches something unfathomable shift behind Steve’s eyes, understanding dawning into something darker, as Steve scrambles back just enough that he can lick the tacky tears off of Eddie’s cheeks and out of his lashes once Eddie closes his eyes.

Then Steve’s tongue is back in Eddie’s mouth, wetter than before like Steve had let saliva pool in the back of his throat before feeding it to him. His tongue fucks into his mouth, licking so far into him that he must be able to taste his own precome at the back of Eddie’s throat. Steve doesn’t stop when Eddie chokes. Eddie wants more.

As if hearing his thoughts, Steve pulls back, ignoring Eddie’s bereft whining as he straddles his ribs again, sure fingers gathering up Eddie’s hair tenderly at the back of his skull before clenching his fist, pulling against the hair follicles hard enough that Eddie’s eyes start watering.

Steve doesn’t hesitate this time as he fucks into Eddie’s mouth, yanking Eddie’s face up and down in time with his thrusts, using him for his own satisfaction.

He’s never been more turned on in his life.

His own hips are twitching, desperate for anything as Steve thrusts again, and again, and again, forcing Eddie to take what he’s given.

As Steve’s thrusts grow sloppy, he lowers Eddie’s head to the carpet, letting go of his hair entirely to grind himself against Eddie’s face. He’s deeper than he’s ever been, the entire head of his cock in Eddie’s throat, devolving into a dirty grind, barely thrusting like he can’t bear to part from the warm clutch of Eddie’s body even for a second.

Eddie’s so lightheaded that spots are bursting behind his eyes, and his throats convulsing as he gags against the intrusion.

It’s loud in the quiet of the living room, the dirty wet sound of Steve’s cock pushing itself into Eddie’s throat, forcing him to take all that he has to give until he’s gagging, that sound somehow just as wet, just as lewd. Eddie can’t hear anything else, ears muffled by the press of Steve’s thighs against his ears.

His brain’s gone numb, oxygen deprived and fucked stupid as Steve, takes, and takes, and takes until Eddie’s crying with it.

Steve doesn’t stop—Eddie doesn’t want him to. He’s hardly been touched, and yet he damn-near feels like he might come just from the musty taste on his tongue.

He wants to die with Steve Harrington’s cock down his throat.

But when Steve’s dick starts twitching, he pulls it out, ignoring Eddie’s begging as he strips it, tip close enough to Eddie’s mouth that he can almost taste it. He opens his mouth, ravenous for anything Steve will give him.

“Please,” Eddie asks, and like that’s all he’d been waiting for, Steve’s cock pulses and spills, creamy white liquid painting itself all over Eddie’s face.

He milks himself through it, waiting until every drop has been spilled before he lets go of his spent cock and uses his fingers to spread the mess around Eddie’s face, scooping up come and tears alike and feeding them into Eddie’s panting, open mouth.

Eddie closes his mouth around the intrusion and sucks.

“What do you need?”

***

Eddie’s sucking on his fingers, eyes closed, tongue sliding sensually between them like he can’t bear to miss a drop of the come Steve had fed into his mouth. Steve’s soft cock gives a valiant twitch where it’s drooping between his legs. If he hadn’t just come harder than he had in his entire life, this would be enough to send him over the edge.

“Eddie,” Steve says, pulling his fingers free and using both hands to grab Eddie’s sticky cheeks, waiting until his hazy eyes open to ask again, “what do you need?”

Eddie’s twitching beneath him, hips rolling like all he wants is to fuck something, but when he finally speaks, he says, “fuck me,” with enough need that it comes out as a command.

Steve’s dick twitches again before slumping pitifully back into itself.

“I just came,” Steve says, feeling orgasm dumb and almost as desperate as Eddie. Eddie closes his eyes again, sniffs like he’s going to fucking cry, he’s so horny. Steve pets at his cheek, suddenly desperate to give him anything he wants.

Steve tucks himself back into his sweats, sliding off Eddie, entire body shaky as he kneels between his raised knees, hands trembling against the handcuff clasp of his belt. The handcuffs clacking against each other is loud as it echoes through the room. “This fucking belt,” Steve mutters, fingers fumbling to get it open. “So fucking loud over the phone, Eddie, you have no fucking idea.”

Eddie groans, hips twitching, making undoing said belt even harder, but when Steve’s gaze snaps up, Eddie’s mouth is hanging open, lips still covered in Steve’s own spend. He stares, gobsmacked by the sight of him once more—the mess he’s made of him. But, when Eddie’s hips twitch again, Steve trails his gaze back down, flicking his wrist just right to unclasp the stupid belt.

“Do you know how fucking crazy it made me,” Steve demands, belt clacking loudly as he shoves it out of the way, fingers shaking against the button of his jeans.

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie replies, voice gravelly and wrecked. Steve wants to pour honey down his throat, soothe the ache before fucking that rasp right back into his mouth all over again. “Those fucking sweatpants, Harrington?”

Steve looks down at his own sweatpants, perplexed. They’re stained with grease on one of his hips, and loose enough to be unflattering. “What—”

“You look so soft,” Eddie cuts in, “want to slide my hand into your pants while you make fucking breakfast.”

The image hits Steve in the chest—him at the stove, Eddie behind him, chin hooked over his shoulder peering into the pan as he slips his hand beneath the waistband of Steve’s sweats, stroking him as he scrambles their eggs.

“Fuck,” Steve says, desperate as he flicks the button on Eddie’s jeans open, yanking them and Eddie’s underwear down together.

Eddie’s dick’s harder than Steve’s ever seen it, tip purple and already leaking like just Steve looking at it is almost enough to send him over the edge. It looks damn-near painful, pointing directly up at the ceiling, waiting for Steve to touch it.

“That’s the idea,” Eddie replies, grinning when Steve looks back up at his face.

It takes a second for Steve to place that as an answer to his expletive, and when he does, he bends down, licking one long stripe up Eddie’s cock just to hear him cry before hooking his arms under Eddie’s knees and shoving them up, practically bending Eddie in half as he makes himself at home between Eddie’s legs.

“What are you—” Steve licks over Eddie’s hole, making Eddie’s question trail off into a startled moan.

When no further questions come his way, Steve adjusts, letting go of Eddie’s legs so they settle over his shoulders, and licks at him again, this time with more purpose, wriggling his way inside the tight heat of Eddie’s body as he twitches.

“Holy shit.”

Steve hums in reply, gratified when the vibration makes Eddie’s entire body jolt like he’s been electrocuted. He does it again, worming his tongue in deeper, the fit tight enough to almost hurt.

He pulls back. “No, no, please,” Eddie begs, voice going quiet and breathing turning erratic as Steve spits on his hole once, twice, three times, thumbs pulling him open enough that the saliva sinks into him. “Shit.”

Steve licks into him again, drawing back just far enough to suck at his rim hard until Eddie shouts. Eddie contracts then loosens, Steve sinking his tongue into him, deeper this time. Eddie’s squirming like he’s not sure whether he wants to move closer or twitch away in overstimulation. Steve doesn’t give him a choice, uses one arm to hold against Eddie’s bent thighs, pressing him into the carpet to keep him still.

His other hand finds its way between them, pointer finger pushing into Eddie’s hole, skin tugging against skin until Steve spits into him and sinks it in smoothly past the first knuckle. Eddie shouts again, entire body vibrating as Steve fucks into him with his finger, torturously slow.

“Good?” Steve asks, finger never stopping its movement as he leans back to survey his spoils. Eddie’s dicks even harder now, and he’s writhing, head shaking back and forth, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open as he pants for breath. “Eddie?”

When he still doesn’t answer, Steve stills his finger where it’s still stuffed inside Eddie’s body, watching as his whole face crumples in on itself. “Eddie,” Steve says again, voice commanding enough that Eddie opens his eyes, tears clinging to his lashes as he peers down at Steve between his legs, gaze hazy and unfocused. “Still good?”

Eddie nods hard enough that his neck cracks. “Don’t stop,” he begs.

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He moves his finger again, thrusting with more force as he leans back down, licking around the intrusion with enough pressure that his tongue sinks in right alongside it.

He adds his middle finger, licking between them as he pushes them in deep and then curls them, finding the spot inside Eddie’s body that makes him beg to stop, beg for more, cry for anything.

Eddie’s been hard since before he got Steve’s cock in his mouth, long before Steve had begun finger fucking him in earnest, so he’s not surprised when it only takes a few more thrusts at that spot inside him for Eddie to smack his shoulder hard in warning.

“Steve, Steve, I’m gonna—”

Steve fucks in his fingers harder, hand cramping as he pounds into Eddie’s body even as he clenches around him, mouth suctioning at the side of his rim as he fucks Eddie through it. He keeps it up as Eddie’s legs settle more firmly against Steve, hand dropping bonelessly to the carpet, body going pliant around Steve’s breaching fingers.

Steve leans back, gently removing his fingers and easing Eddie’s boneless legs to the floor. When Steve finally catches sight of his cock, he groans at the sight of the mess Eddie’s made. It’s in his pubes, on his shirt, pooling on his own fucking neck.

He lays over Eddie’s lax body, uncaring of the mess he’s making of his own clothes as he scoops some of the come from Eddie’s neck and slips it into Eddie’s open mouth, waiting for him to suck it clean from his fingers before pulling it free.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s, absurdly gentle for the debauchery now covering Eddie. Steve doesn’t care, so full of love he’s fit to burst. Eddie kisses him back, just as soft, opening up for Steve like a sunflower toward the light.

Steve keeps kissing him, never wants to stop even as his lungs constrict with the need to breathe. When he finally is forced to pull back for air, he keeps his forehead pressed to Eddie’s breathing in the same air that Eddie’s panting out.

They stay like that for a long time.

Eddie’s pliant when Steve finally pulls him up off the floor, and ushers him into the bathroom. He’s quiet when Steve strips him down, pushing him into the shower to clean them both up with soft hands, Eddie half-asleep against his shoulder.

Steve dries him off and brushes his hair while he’s seated on the toilet seat, eyes closed. Eddie leans into each touch like a cat being stroked, soft even in the fluorescent lights of the Munson’s small bathroom.

“C’mon, baby,” Steve murmurs, pulling him to standing and wrapping a towel around him before leading him through the dark trailer and into his own bedroom.

He digs through Eddie’s discarded clothes until he finds them both clean boxers to change into. Steve ignores Eddie’s little questioning hum as he leaves the bedroom to fetch a glass of water, coming back as quickly as he can.

Eddie’s still standing where he left him, at the foot of the bed, eyes trained on the door. But, when Steve hands him the water, he drinks, wincing as the cold water hits his throat. It must hurt, but he drinks it down.

Steve takes the empty cup back, leaving it on the desk to tuck them both into Eddie’s cold bed, warming his sheets up with their combined body heat.

Steve doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s dark, and there’s sleep pulling at him, made more appealing by the warmth of Eddie’s body beneath his hands, heads sharing the same pillow.

“Did you mean it?” Steve whispers, can’t help it with Eddie warm and pliant beside him. “You weren’t just horny?”

Eddie’s eyes are soft in the light filtering in from the window, mouth quirked in amusement as he replies, “I’m always horny.” His hands are gentle as he caresses Steve’s eyebrow, cheekbone, jaw. “But I meant it.” Steve waits, breathless and hopeful for Eddie to say it again.

“I love you.”

Steve tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, kissing the skin he finds there. “Love you, too.”

Eddie’s arms wrap around him, pulling him impossibly closer, hidden away in the safe haven of Eddie’s bedroom, swaddled in worn-soft sheets.

***

For once, Steve’s still in bed when Eddie wakes up. His arm’s slung around Eddie’s waist, a warm brand pushing him into the mattress, and their legs are tangled between them, knees pressed against one another. It’s warm, cozy where the trailer’s usually chilly on a winter morning.

Steve’s head is on the same pillow as Eddie’s, close enough that he can count every one of his eyelashes, breath puffing gently against Eddie’s cheek. He stares at him bathed in the morning light filtering in through his closed curtains, breathless.

He wants to reach out, touch him softly. It takes him a minute to remember that he can.

Steve groans when Eddie’s hand cups his cheek, a small disgruntled sound as he scrunches up his nose in his sleep. Eddie soothes at his jaw with his thumb, enamored. It takes a few brushes against his skin for Steve’s eyes to blink open, still hazy, barely awake.

When he catches sight of Eddie, he smiles like it’s a reflex, small and sleepy. Eddie leans forward, breaching the scant inches separating them to press his lips to Steve’s gently, mouth open and wet. Steve hums and kisses back, lips just as soft.

It takes a few long moments for Eddie to get his fill and lean back, heart constricting in his chest with the breadth of his feelings when he catches sight of the little smile still on Steve’s face.

“Your mouth tastes like ass,” he says, still smiling all soft and warm even as Eddie sputters.

“Your mouth tastes like ass,” Eddie retorts, jabbing him in the chest when all he does is laugh, voice still sleep-rough. “After all, it wasn’t me who…”

When he trails off, Steve’s grin sharpens, grows fangs as he leans closer to Eddie, their noses brushing as he continues where Eddie left off. “Had a tongue up someone’s asshole.”

He moves reflexively, shoving Steve hard enough to send him tumbling off the edge of the bed, disappearing from sight. He stares at the now-vacant spot beside him for a long moment before scrambling forward on the mattress, peering over the edge. Steve’s splayed out on the carpet, half in a pile of Eddie’s dirty laundry, eyes wide as he stares up at Eddie.

“Shit, sorry, I panicked!” Eddie cries, reaching down toward Steve’s prone body to help him up.

Steve’s fingers wrap around his wrist and he yanks, sending Eddie tumbling off the bed right after him, landing half on top of him as he cackles.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asks, but Steve’s got his arms wrapped around him again, pulling him into his bare chest, and it’s hard to maintain any level of disgruntlement with all that bodily contact.

“Sorry, baby,” he soothes, fingers brushing through Eddie’s hair until he melts into him fully, letting his head settle in the crook of Steve’s neck. “Just wanted you close to me.”

Eddie huffs, but kisses the warm skin beneath his lips. “Smooth talker,” he mutters like it’s a complaint, and not the main reason they’d even gotten this far. If it wasn’t for Steve and his smooth fucking words, Eddie would’ve never moved past cheesy pick-up lines and desperately frequent phone calls.

Before Eddie can think of something suitably clever to say, there’s a knock on Eddie’s closed bedroom door, and Wayne calls, “boys, breakfast.”

“Coming!” Eddie calls back, even as Steve goes stiff and unyielding beneath him. He plants his hands on Steve’s pectorals, levering himself up enough to peer down into Steve’s spooked face. “You okay?”

Steve swallows, throat clicking dryly as he nods unconvincingly. Eddie stares him down, waiting for the truth to spill out of his stupid, perfect lips. “What if he doesn’t like me?” Steve blurts, face immediately pinking as Eddie stares down at him, gobsmacked.

“Wayne?” Eddie demands, sitting up so he can get a better look at Steve’s expression, knees bracketing his hips. “He loves you.”

“But that was before,” Steve replies, leaning up on his bent elbows, forearms straining beneath his weight as he tilts closer to Eddie, whispering like he’s afraid Wayne’s got his ear pressed up against the door. “Before we started dating.”

Eddie can’t help the way he grins when that word leaves Steve’s mouth. It’s just—love is one thing, but dating? Dating implies things that Eddie’s been trying desperately not to want. It’s dinner together, and holding hands covertly at the movies, and parking up at the quarry to look at the stars.

There are actions involved in dating, a future laid out before him if only he’s brave enough to grasp it. Eddie bends his neck down, pressing one quick kiss to Steve’s cheek, afraid that if he goes for the lips, they won’t emerge from this room until breakfast has long since gone cold.

Steve stays on the ground as Eddie jumps up, invigorated, and begins rifling through his drawers for suitable clothing. He pulls on his own change of clothes first, taking the time to pull on jeans and his belt now that he knows it drives Steve crazy.

“Hate to break it to you, Stevie,” Eddie says, throwing a clean shirt toward him with enough accuracy that it blankets his face entirely, “but Wayne definitely already thought we were dating.”

He throws a pair of sweats at him too and saunters out of the room, closing the door on the sound of Steve’s sputtering.

He hits the head, and by the time he leaves the bathroom, Steve’s already sitting at the table, looking sleep-rumpled and warm as he talks with Wayne.

“—stay here much more, and I’ll have half a mind to charge ya rent,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie slides into his seat at the table.

Steve’s smiling as he reaches out, linking his fingers with Eddie’s beneath the table before settling it on the top, for all the world to see. “I can live with that,” he says, squeezing Eddie’s hand, eyes twinkling blindingly at him.

Eddie blushes, and looks down at his plate, already piled with fluffy pancakes. He eats with his left hand, still clutching Steve’s with his right, getting syrup all over in his hair, but it’s worth it for the way Steve’s thumb keeps rubbing against his own.

Wayne doesn't comment, but Eddie catches him eyeing their hands, something parental and pleased in the way he asks Steve about who he’s rooting for in the latest sportsball tournament.

He never lets go of Eddie’s hand.

The phone doesn’t ring until they’re standing side by side at the sink, Eddie washing as Steve dries, the water running cold thanks to Wayne’s morning shower. He hands the plate he’s working on over to Steve and grabs the receiver with soapy hands.

“Yello,” Eddie says, looking over at Steve just to watch him roll his eyes.

“He better be with you,” Robin’s stern voice crackles down the line. “Because no one’s answering at his house, and if he went off to die in the woods or something because you broke his heart—”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Eddie interrupts, unsurprised when Robin talks right over him.

“—I’ll never forgive you, Eddie Munson.”

He waits just long enough to make sure she’s done berating him before turning to Steve, “it’s for you, dear.”

Steve sets the plate he was drying on the rack, and takes the phone from Eddie’s hands.

“Robin?” he asks, somehow so in-tune with his long lost younger twin that he knows it's her even before she’s spoken. Eddie loves them both so fucking much.

As he goes to finish the dishes alone, he keeps an ear open to Steve’s side of the conversation.

“Sorry, Bobby, I got distracted.” Eddie grins, movements slow as he washes the soap off a mug, unwilling to miss any of the conversation that he can catch. “Yeah, yeah, you were right,” Steve says, sounding exasperated before he drops his voice even lower. But, Steve’s always been a shit whisperer, and Eddie still hears it. “He does like me.”

Eddie grins as he dries the last mug before turning around, bracing his back against the counter as he watches Steve speak to his best friend. He looks soft in Eddie’s borrowed sweatpants, hair going every which way after he’d gone to sleep with it still wet last night.

Eddie wants to keep him forever. And, as Steve hangs up the phone and pushes into Eddie’s space like he belongs there, it hits him suddenly that he might get to. Maybe, if Eddie’s really lucky, Steve might even want him to.

“I’ve gotta head to work soon,” Steve murmurs, crowding Eddie into the cupboard and pressing their lips together gently. “But, I’ll see you later?”

For the first time since this whole thing started, he sounds nervous. Hopeful, like there’s any chance at all of Eddie declining. “Whenever you want,” Eddie replies, cupping his face and staring into his eyes. “Any time, any place, I’m yours, baby.”

Steve beams, happy and in love, as he leans forward to press one final kiss against Eddie’s lips, and then he’s gone.

He buzzes for the rest of the day, always on the cusp of rushing out the door to surprise Steve during his shift. But, if calling too soon after the first date is taboo, turning up at their place of work is even worse. What’s the protocol if you’ve been having sex for months and only just put a label on it?

Their usual call system has presumably gone to shit. Steve hadn’t mentioned it, and Eddie was too nervous to ask. They’re dating now, all the previous rules of their relationship overwritten, no matter how he’ll miss Steve every night at eight p.m., the association baked straight into his DNA.

But, Steve hadn’t asked him to call, and Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, so he sits, and he stews, and he waits to hear from Steve, hoping “later” actually translates to “soon.”

Eddie already misses him.

Still, he’s hovering by the phone as the hour hand on the clock creeks closer and closer to eight. He’s not going to call. He won’t. But just as the hand ticks over, the phone rings.

Eddie rushes to answer, fingers fumbling enough that he drops the receiver and has to dive for it, cracking his knees on the ground. He barely notices the pain as he presses the phone to the side of his face, buzzing with a sickening mix of desperation and excitement.

“Hello?” he says, embarrassingly breathless as he waits for something besides static to crackle down the line.

“What are you wearing?” Steve asks, voice suggestive and sly.

Eddie grins.

And, that's it! I hope you all enjoyed it! As always, thanks to @queenie-ofthe-void for their wonderful beta editing, and also for encouraging me in getting out of my comfort zone with this one. I couldn't do it without you <3<3<3

#SteddieWinterExchange #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my fic

70 notes · View notes