#this should go without saying but dni if you’re a p€do. everything i’m talking about is about a fantasy between two consenting adults

[pearlstarsecret]

I'm 21. She/her. Bisexual 🏳️‍🌈. Lover girl. Virgin </3. Mostly a sub. 5’2/159cm. l like it gross :) I don't tag individual posts but general warning on my blog for fauxcest, (mostly soft) cnc, age play-ish. I don’t reblog exclusively nsfw stuff. New to this side of tumblr, still figuring things out. ❣️ (Much) more about my likes and dislikes below!

Put your age on your profile ! Minors DO NOT interact. Misogynists DO NOT interact and kys instead.

Very happy to receive pervy asks (or just friendly ones lol), especially from older guys 🩷 I’m happy to make mutuals, both as friends or something else :)

I don’t reply to dms if you don’t even follow me, you aren’t respectful or if your blog is empty. (If you’re messaging from a sideblog just lmk.) More dm rules below ⬇️

more about me:

🔞🔞🔞

name: you can call me kiddo, kid, bunny, kitty, sweetheart, princess, angel etc — you get the idea 🤭 also adding ‘little’ in front of it is always something i like 🙂‍↕️ unless you just wanna be friends then i can give you an actual name in dms :)

instructions: i’m a sub and i require lots of attention and validation with a daily dose of nasty asks 🦋 handle with care!

what i’m doing when i’m not touching my pussy to your posts:

i’m an English literature and linguistics master’s student (with very good marks so please be proud of me <3 i think i deserve a reward?)

i’m a yapper first and foremost

i’m from the UK but live in Germany (CET)

a few random interests of mine are: marvel (deadpool, wolvie and spiderman are my favs), challengers, linkin park, silly pop punk from the 2000s, ACNH & sims 4 (wicked whims and me 🤝), i collect funko pops and plushies 🧸 i love the colour pink 🩷

i love Game of Thrones & House of the Dragon (and not just cause of the !ncest)

also i’m probably autistic lmfao

if you wanna know anything else about me just ask :)

what to imagine when you’re jerking off to me/ what i look like:

i’m 5’2/159 as mentioned above

i’m slim but not skinny, with D-cup boobs (DD when I’m on my period), and my legs are my fav body part on myself <3

i have pretty, curly hair and cute nose piercings and a few tattoos and i def want more!!

i’m quite girly but half of the time i live in my comfy pyjamas that usually consist of some oversized graphic tee and cute panties and socks 💖

my type:

i don’t have a specific type in men but i do like em tall (and i’m short so that’s easy)

i prefer older guys (up to ~55 y/o as long as you’re attractive) but my age is definitely good too and younger works sometimes :)

i go insane over big (natural) muscles but don’t mind skinny or slightly chubby guys at all :)

i loove body hair on guys but i like the hair on the head mostly short

i like confident (not cocky!!) guys but i’m also into shy, awkward nerds

so all in all i’m just very into guys in general lol

intelligence in men is so sexy to me (because frankly there aren’t that many of you </3) but i can’t lie I’d let a himbo fuck me silly...

relationship status / a slut in theory but not (yet) in practice: i’m single and i’ve never been in a relationship or dated (or had sex 💔) because i’m shy and introverted and there are only gay guys in my degree anyway (who i love sm but i can’t fuck them)

dm rules 💌:

dms are open and nsfw is fine (but don’t send pics without asking first or messaging at least a little bit)

practise proper communication and consent

i hate having to text first 🥺 and i get shy sometimes so pls help me out <3

i know we’re all here for the same reason but don’t reduce me to something purely sexual. At least pretend to give a bit of a shit about me lol and be respectful

fast replies and double texting make me happy :)

i’m not looking for a relationship on here but i do prefer to get comfortable with you first and dm more than just a single time :)

i find texting non-sexually super fun too

i don’t like when people take themselves too seriously so even if we have a nsfw convo we can still talk normally lol <3

if you just write ‘hi’ and nothing else when you’re messaging me for the first time i probably won’t know how to respond

it’s fine if you’re busy but please just let me know if you (suddenly) have to be MIA for a bit and it’s all good <3

that being said i try not to be on here too early in the day (haven’t ever managed to stay away so far but maybe one day i’ll get discipline!) so if i’m not replying to your dms that might be why (i’m in CET 🕰️ )

all i ask is that you have more than one braincell and can actually hold a conversation 🙏🏼

also i will probably think you hate me if you use no emojis at all :(

if you ask nicely before sending them then i’ll probably go feral and drool over your 🍆 pics (or less explicit pics too)🤍 (but pls don’t be delusional, no need to ruin the fantasy if you’re ugly because i will not continue the convo)

asking me to send pics after i’ve already said no gets you blocked

obviously i have the right to not reply to you or stop replying if i feel uncomfortable but as long as you’re nice that shouldn’t happen :)

i get jealous so don’t mention other women? (that should go without saying but apparently not)(i’m not expecting to be the only woman you’re talking to on here and that’s fine but keep it to yourself)

i like girls too but that’s not what i’m on tumblr for but i’d love to make girl mutuals/friends 🥰

i’m into:

fauxcest fauxcest fauxest!!! pls someone be my dad or big brother i’m begging, praise (makes my heart and pussy go 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫) dd/lg, being a liittle bit of a brat, piss (slightly), being spanked (ass & pussy), creampies and everything to do with cum and sweat and spit, (fake) breeding, primal play, cucking, mmf threesomes, this sounds obvious but i love dicks and balls so so so much i will die over them i love nothing more than watching men jerk off in all types of ways 🩵 i also like mlm/mxm stuff and like to imagine being one of the guys (don’t ask me what that says about my gender identity because i don’t know)

bsdm test:

quite vanilla i think🍦 but i’m addicted to ¡ncest fantasies 😋🤤

❌ i don’t like:

mom x daughter fauxcest, toilet stuff, nappies/diapers, feet, the word ‘cunnie/y’?, choking, genuine violence, rough degradation without any praise, master/slave dynamic (compared to general dom/sub stuff which i obsess over), traditional gender roles beyond sex, bondage, actual pregnancy, c*rpse stuff, anything beyond a few drops of blood although period blood is fine, food/weight stuff

(i don’t mind if you like any of these things pls still feel free to interact but these kinks are not for me and understand that i might not follow back if you post about them <3)

💕 if you read this entire post you’re legally required to send me any type of ask or dm, ask me something about myself, tell me something about you etc etc 🤭

[munson-blurbs]

I don’t know if you do Steve or(I have mostly seen your Eddie work which I love by the way)Eddie

but I’m let you choose but ex reader and (Steve or Eddie) angst to fluffy smut at the end and maybe they saw each other at the bar or something and those feelings turn into sweet ole fluffy smut 🫡 ( PFT I don’t know if that make sense) 😭💀

Eddie exes-to-lovers? I'm in.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, fingering, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, the fluffiest smut I've ever written

WC: 3.2k

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics

You hated Eddie Munson. 

You hated the way he sloppily cut the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt in an obvious attempt to show off his tattoos. 

You hated the way he couldn’t keep a secret, always forgetting that they were supposed to be secrets in the first place. That’s how he’d spoiled your surprise birthday party. 

You hated the way he constantly sabotaged his own success. One would think he’d take you up on your offer to do homework together after his first failed senior year; instead, he’d practiced guitar riffs while you pored over your algebra textbook. Needless to say, he didn’t pass that year, either. 

You hated Eddie Munson and everything about him. 

And right now, you particularly hated the way he sat across the bar, talking to another girl and occasionally taking a sip of his drink. 

That used to be you, your fingers laced with his while he told you stories you’d heard one hundred times before. He’d bring your hand to his lips and kiss it, his lips curving into a smile before they even touched your skin. 

“I can’t believe you’re mine. Never gonna let you go, y’know that? You’re stuck with me forever.”

That ‘forever’ ended four years ago, when you went off to college and he needed to stay behind to finish high school. Cracks began showing as early as application season, the fracture complete once you decided to go to Northwestern without even considering Hawkins Community. 

“I don’t understand why you’d wanna go to that big, fancy school anyway. It’ll just be a bunch of rich preps and douchey frat guys guzzling beers through their assholes.”

You refrained from reminding him that he and Jeff had almost tried that same feat, and probably would have if you didn’t intervene. 

“Babe, it’s an amazing school. And I’ll be home on holidays and you can visit whenever you want.”

Even as you’d said it, you knew it wasn’t enough for him. It was a pulled thread in your tight-knit relationship, one that unraveled it throughout the summer. And just one week into your first semester, Eddie had uttered those dreaded words into the phone. 

“I don’t think this long-distance thing is gonna work out.”

That was that. The end of you and Eddie. 

Now, in that dimly lit bar, you tore your gaze from him and his date. Your drink shook in your trembling hand as you lifted it to your lips. 

Robin clocked your uneasiness, her eyes flicking over to where you’d been looking. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at you with nothing but sympathy. “You wanna get outta here?”

You gave your friend a grateful smile, but ultimately declined. “We just got our drinks.” You gestured to her barely-sipped rum and Coke. “We can go once we’re done.”

The two of you forged ahead with a conversation, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Eddie and his date. Maybe it was the vodka making you more emotional, but tears pricked at your lash line when you saw him lean in and kiss her. 

“A-Actually, maybe we should leave.” You were only halfway done with your drink, but the thought of staying and continuing to watch him had you ready to hurl it all up. 

Robin nodded, grabbing her purse and closing out the tab. When she turned back to you, she froze. 

“What?”

“He’s looking at you.”

And dammit if your heart didn’t flip-flop. You did your best to ignore it, ignore the spark of hope it gave you. 

“He’s…” Your words caught in your throat. “C’mon, let’s just go.”

You couldn’t sleep that night. The image of Eddie holding someone else’s hand flashed through your mind every time you closed your eyes. And the way he’d leaned in to kiss her, like he’d done it one thousand times before—it gnawed at you from the inside out. 

Tears slid down your cheeks and seeped into your pillowcase. You would have gone to the ends of the Earth to make that relationship work, while Eddie threw in the towel after just one week. You’d called him up in the dorm’s common room, expecting to talk to him about your day. 

Instead, you’d gotten dumped via phone call. 

You gave up on falling asleep around 4:30 AM. Padding into the kitchen, you brewed yourself a cup of coffee and poured it into your favorite mug. Steam tickled your nose as you took a sip, savoring the cocoa notes and the bitterness you craved that morning. Last night’s events came rushing back as soon as the caffeine hit your bloodstream. Eddie. The girl. The way he looked at her…did he ever look at you that way? It was bizarre seeing it from a different perspective.

The morning air was already humid, summer’s heat seemingly always unrelenting. You stretched out your legs on the steps of your front stoop, letting your muscles unclench as you breathed in a new day. 

It was just you, a smattering of chirping birds, and…a car rumbling down the street?

Hawkins was not a busy enough town for people to be driving down your sleepy street at this hour, and it wasn’t garbage day.

From around the corner came a familiar van. Your heart lurched in your chest when it came to a stop in front of your house. No. There was no way. Someone else in town must have the same exact van as him…with the same exact dent in the driver’s side door from when he’d opened it into a tree…

You scrambled to your feet, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug and onto the cement below you. 

“Hey, wait!” Eddie called out from his open window. He was dressed in a flannel and jeans, no doubt borrowed from his uncle. Killing the ignition, he hustled over to you before you could get through the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Eddie shook his head and blew out a breath. “Look, I just…I wanted to tell you this at the bar, but you ran off–”

“So you came to my house?” You rolled your eyes. “Not creepy at all.”

He ran a hand through his curls. It was then that you noticed the missing rings, the skin slightly paler where they normally wrapped around his fingers. He tracked your gaze and looked at you with a bashful smile.

“Can’t wear them at the plant. I gotta tie my hair back, too.” He slid a ponytail holder off of his wrist and pulled back his frizzy mane, scrunching up his nose. “Always gives me a headache, though.”

You felt your guard slipping with each word he spoke. “It’s probably just too tight.” Without thinking, you gently tugged the rubber band farther from his scalp. “Better?”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft. Tender. Everything you remembered it to be back when things were good. “Please…can we talk?”

Despite your lingering heartbreak–or perhaps because of it–you nodded.

Eddie’s shoulders sagged in premature relief; the difficult part still laid ahead of him. “I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep last night. Not after seeing you.” When his hand brushed against yours, you instinctively pulled away.

“No.” You held your ground as best as you could. “No, Eddie. You don’t get to touch me anymore. Especially not when you were the one with another woman.”

“Technically, so were you.” The joke fell flat, and he cleared his throat. “All right, fine. It was a second date with someone I met last week at the Hideout. Not someone I’m committed to.”

“Right. Because if you were committed to her, you’d just break up with her on the phone.”

Eddie reeled back, your retort a sucker-punch right to his gut. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before speaking again. “You don’t understand how hard it was for me,” he finally said, “to know you were far away, surrounded by a bunch of smart guys, while I was in my sixth year of high school.”

“I didn’t care about that—”

“But I did!” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “God, I could just picture the conversations you’d have with your new friends: ‘Eddie? He doesn’t go here; he’s still in high school. No, he’s not younger than me. He’s actually a year older. He’s just an idiot.’”

A huff escaped your lips. “I’d never say that!” Did he actually think you’d even consider it?

“But you could’ve!” He scraped a tooth against his lower lip. “It would’ve been the truth!”

“Except you’re not an idiot,” you protested. “And throwing yourself a pity party isn’t going to make me feel bad for you.”

You downed what remained of your coffee, now only lukewarm. 

“No, I know. I know.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and shut his eyes. “This is coming out all wrong. Please, can we just go inside?”

No. The answer sat right on your tongue. And yet you found yourself opening the door and letting him in. 

Eddie sat down on the couch, making sure to leave enough space for you. He sighed when you remained standing, but began speaking again nevertheless.

“I’ve thought about you every goddamn day. And I know that’s not enough,” he rushed to add before you could say it yourself, “but I need you to know that I have. I wanted to call you a million times, but I always talked myself out of it. Figured it would just make you angrier.”

“You could’ve at least apologized.” You didn’t bother hiding the hurt in your voice; that façade had long since passed.

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” When he looked at you, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities ruin everything. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I never got to see your dorm room, or meet your new friends, or watch you walk that stage at graduation. I…”

Eddie was fully sobbing on your sofa, wiping his cheeks with calloused palms. “And I’m sorry that I still love you. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go.”

He’d laid it all on the table for you, not hiding a single card in his hand. His gaze was raw with vulnerability; it seared into the hardened ice encasing your heart. 

“When I saw you at the bar last night…when I saw you looking at me…” Eddie let out a huff of air. “Maybe I was just getting my hopes up, but it felt like a part of you might still love me, too.”

And as that realization unraveled, as it unfurled like a flower finally blooming after winter’s frost, you found yourself nodding in agreement. 

All at once, Eddie stood in front of you. “Please say it,” he whispered, delicately cupping your face in his hands. “I need to hear you say it. Only if you mean it.”

“I still love you.” Your nose grazed his. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“You don’t want to because I broke your heart?” When you answered in the affirmative, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “What if I promise that I’ll never break your heart again? What if I promise that it’s always been you?”

Your voice was soft, barely audible, when you told him, “Prove it.”

Eddie’s lips found yours, a magnetic pull that hadn’t weakened in the nearly four years you’d spent apart. “Course I’ll prove it,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Spend the rest of my goddamn life proving it.”

His hands slid up underneath your shirt, a ratty old tee reserved strictly for bedtime. There was no time to worry about it being the least sexy article of clothing you had; before you knew it, Eddie tugged it over your head and tossed it aside. He whimpered as he grabbed your breast, circling the nipple with his thumb. 

You’d only gotten two of his flannel buttons undone when you stopped. “Eddie, wait—don’t you have to go to work?”

Eddie laughed, his breath tickling your neck over the spot he’d been kissing. “I’ll just have to be late. Got something…more important to attend to.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, the two of you peeling off each other’s clothes until they lay in a heap on the floor. And then there was just you and Eddie, touching everywhere you could. 

“Baby.” The word was slurred, given the fact that his tongue was currently occupied with your nipples, your skin shining where his saliva remained. “Baby…fuck, I missed you.”

He was painfully hard, the tip of his cock flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around the shaft, pumping him in a painfully slow rhythm. 

“Oh—ah!” Eddie hissed, steadying himself at your sudden touch. “F-Fuck, I—y-you can’t…too sensitive.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Already?”

Eddie nodded sheepishly. “You know how much I thought about this? Every time I…y’know…I imagined it was you.”

Just the mental picture of Eddie laying back in his bed, tugging on his cock while moaning your name, had you dragging him to the couch. No time to go all the way to the bedroom. 

The moment Eddie climbed on top of you as you lay on the cushions, his fingers drifted down to where you needed him most. His middle finger, then his ring finger, slid inside you with practiced precision. Picking up right where you’d left off. 

You clenched around him, your body greedy for more as his fingers moved in and out, in and out. 

“Eddie…” Just that one word was an effort; every brain cell focused only on the pleasure building between your thighs. “Eddie…Eddie…please…”

He nodded, his tongue darting out and swiping over his lower lip. “I remembered how much you love my fingers.”

It was true; his fingers were nothing less than magic. He swore it was because he played guitar, and maybe that was part of it, but the real reason was because he had you memorized. Knew exactly where to curl his fingers, exactly how to stroke your sweet spot until your legs were shaking. 

“You’re…you’re drenched.” He wasn’t cocky; he was awestruck. Absolutely shocked that you were so needy for him, that you’d missed his touch as much as he’d missed yours. “Gonna take care of you, baby, okay?”

You inhaled a staggered breath and melted into the couch. Eddie held total and complete control over you, and it surprisingly didn’t scare you in the least. 

The last thread of restraint snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves. You cried out Eddie’s name. It was him bringing you to a new level of ecstasy. It was him giving you everything you could ever want. 

His movements slowed to let you float down from the high. His fingers were slick with your arousal, and he popped them in his mouth with a content sigh. 

“Tastes so sweet.”

God, you needed him. Needed him to fill you entirely. Needed him to clear your mind of any thought besides how good he made you feel. Needed him to hold you down and take whatever he desired. 

Your gaze dropped down to his erection. Eddie followed your eyes, then looked back at you. 

“D-Do you…?” He trailed off before composing himself. “I mean, is it okay if I—”

“Yes.” There was no other possible answer. There was nothing else you could possibly want besides that connection, that intimacy, with the man you could never stop loving. “Please.”

Eddie obliged without hesitation. He angled himself with your entrance, pushing into you so slowly that it teetered on agonizing. You knew it would feel good; it always had, even that first awkward time together. But this was something else entirely.

It was as though a missing puzzle piece clicked into place, unlocking everything you had stowed away over the last four years without him. Tears lazily flowed down your cheeks, but before you had time to be embarrassed, Eddie kissed them away.

“S’okay,” he murmured, continuing to thrust into you with utmost care. “You’re okay, baby.”

You managed a smile as you navigated the influx of emotions. You were okay. You were with Eddie again, safe in his arms, his touch both electrifying and soothing.

All that was left to do was sink into it. 

You accepted his love, wrapping yourself in it and savoring every morsel. One of your hands found his cheek, your thumb grazing over the hint of stubble he missed when shaving. His kisses were oxygen itself, breathing life into every cell in your body. Everything was Eddie. Everything was okay again.

And then you started to giggle. It was discreet at first, but then it bubbled over until your smile was too wide to ignore. Eddie couldn’t even kiss you without his lips touching your teeth. 

“Babe?” He cocked his head, examining you as laughter floated out of you. 

“Sorry.” Another peal of laughter. “I’m…I’m just so happy.”

Eddie grinned, ducking to kiss your neck. “Me, too. Me fucking too, baby.”

There was the ebb and flow, the give and take, the push and pull. You and Eddie, working in tandem to bring the other to their climax. 

Your orgasm blossomed deep within you. You dug your fingernails into Eddie’s back and wrapped your legs around his to draw him closer. 

“Ed-Eddie, I’m…” Your hips raised to meet his, filling in where your words failed. 

Eddie nodded and gently kissed your lips. “I know, sweet girl. Just let go for me.”

And so you did. With a cry of his name, you came. You let yourself unravel right there on the couch, and before long, he was joining you. 

“Baby, baby, baby.” He let out a groan as he spilled into you, giving you every last drop. His chest rose and fell as he withdrew and caught his breath, though he kept his hands on you the whole time. Like you might disappear if he let go. 

You reached up to smooth back a lock of his hair. You needed to look into his eyes, no obstructions, when you asked him the question weighing heavily on your heart. 

“Where do we go from here?”

Eddie flinched, clearly not expecting such a candid remark right after sex. He shook off his shock and replaced it with a smirk. 

“I say we shower off first.” His nose brushed yours and he kissed you once again. “And then I’d like to take you to breakfast once the diner opens. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”

You gazed up at him, taking in the chest muscles that had filled out with the addition of manual labor.

 A shower and a breakfast date. It was a plan—maybe not like the ones you made, where every moment was perfectly laid out. And it was more than Eddie’s usual fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants demeanor. It was somewhere in the middle. A new equilibrium. 

“That sounds perfect.”

--

[romanoffsdarling]

Later Never Comes

Pairing: CEO!Silver-Fox!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your love for her knew no bounds, but there’s only so long you can hold on— only so many empty promises you can stand— before you finally have to let go. Before you finally realize that later may never become real.

Word Count: 4,779

Warnings: G!P Wanda, legal age gap, brief oral (R receiving), dirty (and slightly possessive) talk, mommy kink, slightly rough sex, neglect, and angst (with a bittersweet ending). 18+, Minors DNI.

Author’s Note: I know I promised a second part to Summertime Sadness and Time To Say (Goodbye), but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I hope you can forgive me!

Great love always ends in tragedy.

That’s the saying, right? A stupid one if you had anything to say about it. What’s so great about love if it only ends in heartbreak? If you don’t end up with the person that makes your entire being thrum? If everything that had once been so colorful is suddenly black-and-white due to their absence?

Is the love great due to the story? To the emotions, the events, that occur throughout its long winded saga? Or is it great because it was doomed from the start? Because, even though it’d end one way, two people were still willing to fight the odds, to fight fate, even if they’d never end up winning.

You’re not sure, nor do you care, because there’s no way a love of that kind could be anything except terrible— except bone-chillingly agonizing in the way you’d have to figure out how to move on without it. Figure out how to be without the person that made everything make sense, that made you feel like the person you were always meant to be.

Even if it’s been years since you’ve seen her, years since you’ve felt her lips against yours, an elegantly lithe body pressed to your own, and the sweet scent of sandalwood and lavender mixed perfectly in your nose, you haven’t been able to figure that out. Haven’t been able to get her out of your system, no matter how much you may try.

How could you? When you’ve loved, and been loved by, Wanda Maximoff?

[Past]

“I’m just saying she’s been interested to meet you since she saw our group picture from Fiji.” Your best friend, Agatha, relayed, jovially leading you towards the small, yet upscale, café that Wanda Maximoff— CEO of Scarlet Entertainment— agreed to meet you. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, sweetie. Especially one that came about due to my own propensity to lose bets with that witch.”

Your brow furrows. “I’m just not sure what exactly this meeting is supposed to be about. I just graduated college, I barely have any experience under my belt.”

“But you have me as a mentor,” she rebukes, a small smirk on her lips. “And that’s all that you need to get into Wanda’s head.”

“Ah, yes.” You roll your eyes, amusement welling within your chest. “How could I forget about your age-old rivalry?”

“Don’t phrase it like that. Makes me sound old.” Agatha bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes narrowed.

“And mentor doesn’t?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’. “That makes me sound wise.”

“And what does wisdom come from again?”

You’re just able to dodge the swat directed at your arm, a bright smile tugging your lips upward, as you finally enter the quaint café— the aromatic smell of coffee, a hint of cinnamon, and something slightly citrusy, hits you all at once. A combination that shouldn’t have worked as well it did.

Once you placed your order— a simple coffee with your usual additions— you turned back to Agatha with an expectant expression. “Anything I should know about this meetings, Ags?”

She shakes her head, tendrils of brown hair escaping the haphazard bun she had thrown them in. “You’re here.” Agatha hands you the drink the barista had just put beside you, a wane smile on her lips. “That’s the important part to achieve for any date.”

Your steps stutter, nearly causing you to trip into a nearby table. “W-What?” Widened eyes meet Agatha’s unaffected one, a certain level of calmness that you found irritating. “What do you mean date? I thought this was a meeting?”

Agatha waves her hand. “Lunch meeting, lunch date. Means the same thing in the end.” She shoulders her purse, clearly not planning on staying any longer than she has to. “You’ll be fine, Y/N. You’re a catch. Maximoff would have to be a bigger idiot than I think she already is if she lets you go.”

Before you’re able to respond, Agatha places a chaste kiss to your cheek, offers one last cheeky wink, and saunters her way out of the café, leaving you completely alone. You’re honestly tempted to just abandon ship and get out of dodge— you weren’t good on dates, let alone blind dates. Something your best friend is well aware of, and would definitely be getting in an earful about this later.

However, before you’re able to make a concrete decision on your exit strategy, a husky voice speaks up from behind you.

“Are you Y/N?”

The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen stood in front of you when you turned around: long auburn hair, speckled with the beginning signs of gray, paired perfectly with the sharp emerald green of her gaze. An elegantly lithe body, encased in a form-fitting suit, tailored made to enhance every perfect curve, relaxed in a way that almost seemed arrogant— if it was for the confidence that exudes from her very being.

“Yes.” Your brain finally catches up with you, remembering the question she had asked. “Y/N.” You hold out your hand for her to shake. “Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

A small smile catches full lips, a slender hand grasping your own in a firm shake. “Wanda Maximoff.” Green eyes trail down your body. “And, trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”

The months that followed the blind date went by in a blur. You could honestly say that you’ve never met anyone else like Wanda Maximoff— a woman that personified ice and fire. Watching her work— whether it be as you’re lounged on her large leather sectional, laptop balanced on her lap as slender fingers gently stroke your back, or she’s pacing back and forth with her phone pressed to her ear; voice dripping with barely concealed annoyance, underlined by a calm collectiveness that never failed to make you swoon— was an art form in itself, but being able to see the woman that appeared at the end of the day?

Where an icy facade of professionalism melts into warm smile and gentle eyes. Sharp words being replaced by sweet nothings and gentle humming.

In Wanda’s arms you’ve found a place you never even knew you were missing— home. You had a couple relationships in the past, but none of them made you feel the way Wanda does; all paling in comparison to the beautiful Sokovian.

The one thing you hadn’t expected upon beginning to date the older woman was how insatiable she was— not that you were complaining— but Wanda needed to have you as often as she could. Taking you the bedroom of your apartment, the various rooms in her penthouse, in her office within Scarlet Entertainment, hell even in the back of a limo on the way to an event. Wanda needed to have you and you needed to have her right back.

Another little thing you’ve learned about her? Or, you should say, not so little? The Sokovian sported an extra appendage that had quickly become your new best friend— not that you were going to tell Agatha that— who seemed to want you as much as Wanda did.

Which is how you found yourself where you are now— on your back, thighs clamped around Wanda’s head, as she thoroughly ate you out on the couch of her office.

“Yes.” You arch sharply, a sob being torn from your throat as Wanda’s tongue plunges even deeper into you. Your girlfriend hums happily at the sound, the vibrations sending a shockwave across your clit, and another wave of wetness gushes out of you— something that Wanda is all too happy to lap up. She had told you on more than one occasion, after she spent hours upon hours between your thighs, that you beat out even the finest of wines to her. “Please. I need you.”

With clear reluctance to leave, Wanda pulls back and easily settles on top of you. Lips and chin shining lewdly in the dim lighting of her office, darkened emerald eyes sparkling even brighter.

“You taste great, detka.” She lowers her head, offering her tongue for you to suck on. Giving you a taste of yourself, mixed intoxicatingly with her own natural one. “Could spend hours eating up your perfect pussy, but that’s not what you want, huh?” She jerks her hips, rubbing her cock against your wetness. “You want mommy to be inside you, right? Want her to stretch you out and make you scream?” Another roll of her hips causes you to arch, a breathless gasp leaving you, but Wanda doesn’t relent. “Answer me, detka. Be my good girl and I’ll give you what you crave. What do you want mommy to do?”

“Fuck me.” The cry is practically wrenched from your chest, a deep felt plea for her to just plunge into you and ruin you for anyone else. Not that she hasn’t been able to accomplish that already. “I want you to slam your cock into my pussy and make me yours, mommy. I want your cock to make my pussy its own, to shape me in its image.”

A deep, almost rumbling, snarl erupts from Wanda in response, her hips snapping forward and you’re finally filled; stretched out so fucking perfectly, an obscene slurp echoed across the room the moment Wanda’s hips met your own. She hadn’t made you cum with her mouth, but you had been so close, she had given you a mini orgasm just by entering— a feat that brings a smug smile to Wanda’s lips.

“You feel that, detka.” She takes your hand and brings it down to the slight bulge in your lower abdomen. “That’s my cock ruining you for anyone else. No one will ever be able to fill you the way I do, make you scream yourself hoarse.” Wanda snaps her hips forward after a shallow pull-back, giving out a satisfied hum at the feeling of your slick walls pressed around her. “Your pussy belongs to me, your pleasure belongs to me, and you belong to me.”

Wanda lowers her head, lips pressed firmly to your own, giving you even more of a taste of yourself than before, as her tongue practically fucks your mouth while her cock fucks your pussy. When she detaches her lips from yours, only a thin trail of saliva is left, before she’s far enough away for it to snap.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh permeates the air, an occasional grunt or moan intercepting it, and you’d be concerned about the noise level if Wanda hadn’t sent Peter, her assistant, home early— having planned to have you like this from the very moment she had invited you over.

“Just like that, mommy. Keep fucking me like that,” you babble, drunk on pleasure as Wanda kept driving her hips forward, one slender finger roughly rubbing your clit in time with each thrust. It’s of no surprise that you find your release quickly after, gushing over Wanda’s cock.

The tight contractions around her cock— as your second orgasm was much more powerful than your first— causes Wanda to groan, hips stuttering in their brutal pace. It’s clear that she was close, sweat slicked brow, causing strands of silver hair to cling to fair skin, but she obviously wanted you to come one last time— to be tossed over the edge with her.

With a shake breath, Wanda roughly brings you to the brink of your third orgasm, not even giving you time to fully get through the second. “One more, detka. You’ve got one more in you for mommy.” She dips her head, lips tenderly brushing across your forehead. “And when you come around mommy’s cock, I’m gonna fill you up like the good girl you are. Would you like that?”

You nod, practically whining. “Yes. Please.”

The older woman snarls once more, clearly affected by the look on your face, and, before you’re even aware of it, you’re crashing over the edge again— a cry of Wanda’s name passing over your lips as you spasm around her. Barely being able to catch Wanda’s own groan in response: “Yes.”

Jets of her cum paint your inner walls white, warming you up. It’s a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to— or want to get used to, if you’re being honest.

Once she’s spent, Wanda gently lowers herself onto your still slightly spasming body, lips pressed softly against your cheek. “You did so good. So perfect for me. My beautiful girl.”

You happily nuzzle into Wanda’s neck, eyes drooping out of contented exhaustion. “I love you.”

You’re too out of it to feel Wanda stiffen in surprise, or to really understand what you had just whispered, but you are aware of Wanda’s arms tightening around you, her lips pressing more firmly against your skin, as she cuddles you closer to her.

And, as you begin to drift off completely, happy in Wanda’s arms, you faintly feel Wanda exhale across the shell of your ear, a shaky breath, uncharacteristic for the older woman, before her soft voice breaks through the silence: “I love you too. More than I ever thought I’d love anyone.”

[A Few Months Later…]

“How many do you want?”

It’s asked softly, one of Wanda’s hand gently running up-and-down your back in a soothing motion. Her lips pressed against the crown of your head, your face nuzzled against the crook of her neck, a place you don’t feel like leaving anytime soon.

“How many what?” You snuggle closer, delighted in the way her arms tighten instinctively. “I want a lot of things, Wands.”

Wanda huffs out a light chuckle. “Children, Y/N. How many children do you want?”

You stiffen in surprise at the question— Wanda hadn’t made it a secret that she didn’t plan on having kids. That she didn’t think she’d make a good mother due to her childhood and her busy lifestyle, but you also know that your girlfriend wouldn’t ask something unless she’s serious about the answer. Something you’ve figured out after all these months together. Regrettably, you pull your face away from the warm nest it had made so you’re able to look at her, and Wanda met your eyes calmly, sharp green softened in a way that’s only ever meant for you.

“What’s this about, Wanda?” You roll your lips, trying to process your next words carefully. “I thought you didn’t want kids?”

Emerald eyes flash warmly. “I didn’t want a lot of things, Y/N.” She easily tugs you back into her arms, lips pressed to your forehead. “But that was all before I met you.”

Touched by her words— and the clear sincerity within them— you decide to just bite the bullet, there wasn’t a point in delaying your answer. Especially if Wanda expected it.

“Two.” A gentle kiss is placed to her collarbone. “I want two boys. Twins.”

She breathes out another chuckle. “Twins, huh?” Maneuvering you both, you’re suddenly pressed against the mattress, Wanda hovering over you, smile still in place, with a familiar hardness nestled between your thighs. “That seems like something we’d have to get just right, correct?”

Even though it’s posed as question, you can tell that Wanda meant it rhetorically. That she already knew the answered you’d both settle on— an answer you always agreed upon.

Wiggling your hips, grinning mischievously at the sharp gasp that leaves Wanda’s lips at the added pressure, you throw your arms loosely around her neck.

“Yes.” You pull her closer, lips millimeters from her own. “I think it’s something we’re going to have practice quite a bit.”

Not needing any more prompting Wanda descends onto you with a ravenous hunger. One that you’re all too happy to match.

You can’t wait to experience your future if this is what’ll be waiting for you there.

The phone is cold against your overheated flesh— a concoction of anger and disappointment courses through you like lava.

“Wanda—” You pinch the bridge of your nose to stem the tide of anger. “This is the eighth time this week alone. What the hell am I supposed to tell the caterers? Again.”

A soft sigh resounds through the speaker. “Just tell them that I won’t be able to make it, Y/N.” The response, in a clearly distracted tone, does little to ease your growing ire. “I know you’ll be able to handle it.”

“I don’t want to handle it, Wanda. This is our wedding, I’d like for you to also have a say in it.” From the time on the clock, you didn’t have much time left to leave the penthouse. Not if you wanted to get to the appointment on time. “I’ve been planning this entire thing by myself, I want your help. I want to hear your opinions. I want you.”

To care goes without words, but you’re certain it rings out just the same. You had been so happy when Wanda had suddenly proposed, seemingly out of the blue. Though wasn’t that the point? Taking you to a rooftop restaurant, which she had rented out, and offered you the rare chance of getting to taste her impeccable cooking; all dishes she had learned from her mother back in Sokovia. It had been a night you’d forever cherish, memories forever ingrained in your heart: the way the stars made the green in Wanda’s eyes sparkle more, the subtle wind allowing you to be surrounded by her comforting scent, the bright smile she had given you when she dropped down to one knee, and the happy laugh that had escaped her when you said yes. It had been a fairytale, everything you had ever wanted.

Until you realized your Disney fairytale was beginning to turn into Brothers Grimm.

“You have me, Y/N.” Wanda lets out another sigh. “Look, I can’t keep talking the investors for the meeting just arrived and I need to get prepared. I promise that I’ll go over everything you discuss later, okay? I love you.”

“Wanda—”

You’re only met with the sound of the dial tone, barely getting the chance to reply before being hung up on, and the familiar aching sense of silence that follows— a hollow sound that distantly reminded you of what your heart has become.

It hadn’t always been like this. The penthouse, upon your first visit, had been cold, lifeless in a way that seemed almost inhuman, but slowly it had livened up— been filled with a sense of warmth and peace. Of love. It had been a place you could go to when you just needed an escape from the rest of the world, when you needed to be surrounded by things that remind you of the woman you love.

Now it’s suffocating in a way that you never wished for it to be.

You’re aware that Wanda is a busy woman— had been aware of it before your first date occurred— but she had always at least tried to be there. Always left you feeling like you were at least on the list of things that mattered, you didn’t necessarily need to be at the direct top; not when she had so many things to content with already. But, you’ve felt like nothing more than an afterthought lately.

Gentle kisses in the morning turned to brief parting words as she made her way quickly out the door.

Soft smiles, and inside jokes, turned to barely there quirks of full lips, and stretched out silences.

The warmth of her hold, the safety you felt from her touch, turned to an icy chill as she left you to the cold air— you don’t even remember when the last time was that you had been together properly. Since you had woken up in her arms.

You didn’t need a lot, you didn’t need all of her time, but you wanted to feel like you still mattered— that everything you have isn’t just another thing Wanda had marked off on her checklist of things to do before she turns 55.

Checking the time, a small curse leaves your lips once you realize that you’re going to be late, and, with one final glance towards the empty penthouse, you make your way out the door— hoping that the growing chill you feel isn’t indicative of a love grown cold.

Silence had become your greatest friend in the weeks that followed. The one thing that you’ve grown to count on as Wanda’s schedule only seemed to get busier and busier— hell, your relationship with her personal assistant had grown to the point that he’s been calling you by your first name now. Instead of the usually nervous ma’am or Ms. L/N.

Wedding appointments had come and gone, all of them spent alone, with Wanda barely perusing the choices that had been made before crashing out of sheer exhaustion. Conversation had grown stilted due to her own growing ire at you consistent worry— although she labeled it as nagging. That she’s been running her business for over thirty years, and she’s been doing fine.

Even now, on New Years Eve, as the clock moved ever closer to midnight, you were completely alone— expansive shadows, that seemed darker somehow, stretched out towards you like ghastly fingers, trying to tear whatever semblance of comfort you’ve found away. You’re not sure what you had been expecting, not even sure if you’d truly believed that Wanda would show herself, but you can’t lie and say that you hadn’t hoped.

Hoped that today, of all days, would be different. That you wouldn’t feel like a stranger, an intruder, within your own life, within your own home.

Fanciful musings and hopes of a lovestruck fool.

The small chirp of an incoming message pulls you from your reverie, a bright smile appearing instantly at the sight of who it’s from, before withering away once you read it: Sorry, I won’t be able to make it home tonight. Going to the Hamptons to meet some new business partners. I promise I’ll make it up to you later. I love you.

You don’t bother to send a message back— what could you possibly say? Yet another promise had been thrown to the wayside by the older woman. Even if it was just a cursory, and unspoken, one being as simple as not leaving your fiancé alone on New Years. Or waiting until the last minute to actually say anything about it.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, an acidic twang settling over your tongue, as bitterness seeps into your bloodstream, poisoning your heart and soul. You knew what you needed to do, have known since this had become your new normal, but hadn’t had the strength, or the courage, to make it a reality. Until now.

Until the heartbreak, the suffering, has become as close of a friend to you as the oppressive silence.

And, as the door to the penthouse gently closed behind you, never to be opened by your hand again, you feel a sense of bone-deep sorrow settle over you. For everything that could have been, for what you had hoped for, and all that you now had to live without. You could just step back inside, hide or destroy the letter, and Wanda would never know. She’d never find out how close you had been to giving up, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. Could no longer gather up the power to keep fighting for something that’s been lost long ago— no matter how much your heart screams at it not being true.

Tears gather in your eyes as you take another step away from the door, away from the place you’ve lived in for the last two years, and your heart breaks with every step. But, it breaks even more at the knowledge that you were leaving your true home behind too— that doing this would destroy everything you have with Wanda, never to be salvaged. The penthouse may be expensive, and it may be beautiful, but it’d never be home to you like Wanda; it’d never offer you the same feeling of protection like her arms did.

You’ve been shut out of your home for months now, and being left out in the cold has finally frozen your heart enough for you to be able to do this. No matter how much more it was going to hurt once it thaws once more.

Shouldering your duffel bag, the only thing you’ve allowed yourself to bring, you step into the private elevator and press the button for the lobby. Hands tightening around the strap of the bag, trying to ignore the way your ring finger no longer felt the familiar press of metal against it as you do so.

It was time to look forward, to finally make your own laters, the things you had been pushing off, become an actuality.

Even if you wanted nothing more than to have never needed to say goodbye to Wanda Maximoff in the first place.

Losing the ring was one thing, but losing the love of your life?

It’s a wound you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to recover from.

[Present]

“Mom?” The small voice catches your attention, your eyes focused back in to see bright eyes, twin grins being sported between the pair. “Can we still get hot chocolate?”

Billy and Tommy had come into your life when you needed them to most— a blessing that you’d definitely been searching for after everything imploded with Wanda. And, even if how they were conceived didn’t lend itself to a happy tale, you’d never change a thing. They were your twin miracles. Your beautiful baby boys— even if they were eight years old now.

“I thought you decided to get caramel popcorn instead?” You poke Billy’s side gently, delighted in the giggle the actions caused. “That’s what you both told me at the theater.”

Tommy’s eyes widened dramatically, in full puppy-dog mode. “But that was before you took us past our favorite store.” He points to the small café only a few feet away— one that you frequented with the twins when you could find the time. A place that you hadn’t even realized you’d be leading them towards. “Can we please get hot chocolate.”

The twins chime in unison: “Please.”

You chance a glance towards the café— deliberating your options— but you know that you’re going to cave. After all, the reason you had gone to the movies was to celebrate their stellar report cards. What harm could some extra hot chocolate do?

So, with a faux long-suffering sigh, you relent. “I suppose.”

“Yes!” Twin cheers are your immediate response, brightening the smile on your lips, and you soon find yourself in the quaint café— one that held so many memories for you. Phantoms of your past the whispered in your ear as you placed your order and directed your boys to their usual spot.

Only half-listening to their chatter about the movie you had just seen— some superhero film— you simply bask in the simplicity their joy brought you. Observing their small faces light up, little hands waving around as they discussed various points, and your heart swells with more love than you ever thought you could feel.

“—What did you think, mom?”

Billy’s sudden question tears you from your musings, his widened eyes, alight with excitement, giving you the impression that he really wanted to hear what you thought.

“About the movie?” They both nod. “I thought it was good, bug.”

Tommy pouts. “Yeah, but what did you like most about it? Did you have a favorite scene?”

“I—”

“Order for Y/N.”

Saved by the bell, you think. A wave of relief crashing over you. “You two stay put.” Standing, you ruffle their hair. “I’ll be right back with our drinks.”

At the prospect of their hot chocolate they don’t seem to mind that you didn’t answer their question— though you’d certain Tommy would ask you again. Though you’d have more than enough time to google some things about the movie before then. Small miracles.

Stopping at the counter, you take the tray with the drinks with a smile and a nod in greeting to the server you’ve grown quite fond of.

“Y/N?”

Breath catching in your throat at the husky voice sounding out behind you, the cadence and tone so familiar that your heart still burns from it. Hesitating only slightly, you turn and meet the shimmering emerald eyes you haven’t seen in a little over eight years. Her face still as beautiful as you’d last seen it, if a bit older now.

“Wanda.”

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The All-Star Game

Batter Up Chapter 5

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: This is not how Joel wanted to spend his All-Star Game, at least you make the best of it for him. Warnings: smut, fluff, family dynamics, nurse/patient roleplay in the shower, oral (m receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex (reader has a previously discussed IUD... be safe), a doctor mistakes reader for Joel's wife. Words: 4,900

A/N: Been fighting writer's block, twelve hour work days, and total brain fry. Thank you for being so patient with my lack of updating folks. Not gonna lie, I read through my first piece Golden Walkway earlier and was like "how TF is my first ever ff/smut piece that good?!" while I'm absolutely banging my head against the keyboard trying to write out four sentences tonight. The biggest shout out to @frannyzooey for filling my Google Doc with notes and simplifying my gobbledegook. I absolutely do not feel worthy of your kindness. *insert Wayne's World not worthy GIF*

Masterlist Series Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 1 Travel Day For All-Stars

And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

I shake it off, I shake it off

“God damnit,” Joel growls. “Why do I always forget that that’s your damn alarm?”

“Mmph, it works. Wakes me up.” You sit up and stretch before reaching to pick up your phone.

The same phone you stared at while willing yourself to sleep, attempting to ignore the circling "what ifs" of the dreaded conversation you knew you had to have with your parents, only able to do so after focusing on the soothing sound of Joel's breathing.

You get up, slip on his shirt and crack open the curtains letting the morning sun peek in. 

“Guess I should look at my phone, hm?” Joel slowly sits up and settles his back on the pillows while you readjust, his big brown eyes disappearing behind the tired crinkles that line the sides as he lets out a rumbly yawn.

“Might be a good idea, I’m sure Sarah wants to talk with you.” Running a hand through his sleep tousled hair, you give him a kiss.

“Called her on the way home yesterday, let her know not to worry and that I’d be fine without her.” He sighs. “I think she knows I have somebody.”

“Hm. I didn’t want to get into it this soon, but I’m going to have to talk to my mom at least. She knows I’m here in Philly and I didn’t get on my flight.”

“Well, shit,” he grimaces. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be good. I texted her saying I’m fine and I’d talk to her tomorrow. Just nervous, but at this point, there’s no going back…they were already going to find out today. So instead of doing it in person, I’m just going to have to do it over the phone.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” His hand grabs yours and squeezes it.

“We will, I just want to have a nice morning with you, I'll deal with them after lunch.”

“But first, coffee?”

“But first, coffee.”

——

“Well, here goes,” you dial your mom’s number and hit the green phone circle. She picks up after two rings. Crap.

“Hey mom,” you nervously swallow, trying to sound chipper. Joel’s hand soothingly pets your back, grounding you. 

“Hi sweetie, what’s happening? Your dad and I are very confused.”

“Yeah, um about that, is dad with you?”

“He is… is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is good. Um, could you put me on speaker?” You haven’t had to feel this level of nervousness with your parents in almost twenty years. 

“Hi Duck, what’s going on?” Your dad calls you by your nickname, so he’s not mad… yet. “Was looking forward to seeing you, I don’t know why you’re not here. Mom and I didn’t hear from you, so she checked your location last night and you’re in Philadelphia? Not New York, not the airport, not Texas, but Philadelphia, why is that? We were worried, Duck.”

“I know, I’m sorry about that. So, things got… complicated. I was packing for the airport and was watching the Liberties game when, um, Joel got hurt.” You exhale, trying to calm yourself by focusing on the feel of Joel’s hand on your skin. “I, uh, drove down to help take care of him because, um, he and I have been, together since, well, November.” You breathe out the latter word, hoping your quiet breath will hide the shame in keeping Joel a secret for that long, for not respecting your parents and your own relationship. You feel so small, so fragile, so young, confessing to your mom and dad like you’re in trouble. 

“November?” The only word your mom responds with. Your dad stays quiet, and you’re reminded of why you wanted to do this over the phone. So you wouldn’t see their expressions. Although, maybe if they were here, they would be able to see the way Joel looks at you, how happy you are, how perfect he is for you.  

“Yes, um, remember when I flew in for your birthday? We ran into each other, and I don’t know, it just worked out. I know this is a lot.” 

Joel’s hand lands on your shoulder, tugging you back to lay against him, his arm wrapping around your chest as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.  You love him so much, you let a tear slip out as you wait for any sort of validation. 

“So, you and Joel Miller have been together for, what, nine months? And we’re only finding out about it now?” You try to gauge your dad’s voice, sensing disappointment, praying it’s not anger. “Is it because you got caught at his place? When were you going to tell us?” 

Okay, there’s anger. 

“Tonight actually, um, Joel and I were going to tell you tonight at dinner. I’m really sorry and I know this is complicated because there’s a bit of history between him and you, but daddy, I love him.”

“Bit of history?” he replies, incredulous. “He was my star player for twenty years, he was rude to the media, coaches, and reporters and I always had to pick up that mess. He was great on the field and in the clubhouse, but he was a pain in my ass most of the time, and now you’re telling me you’re in love with him… and have been for almost a year?”

You bite your lip as you will the tears away from your eyes. You’re so thankful for Joel’s touch right now. He’s respecting you, but you can tell by his breathing growing louder and quicker that hearing your dad’s raised voice is upsetting him. Maybe it’s better to be not in person, that way Joel doesn’t run the risk of throwing your dad through a wall. 

“Yes,” you croak out. You feel like a child answering him. Eyes downcast, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“And all of a sudden, right after he’s no longer on my team, he’s your boyfriend?”

“I’m sorry dad, it’s not something we planned on, it just… happened and I know you’re mad and I’m sorry that it took this long for you to find out and I’m sor—“

“Sweetie,” your mom’s voice breaks through your anxious words, “are you happy?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, Joel’s arm squeezes you tighter, “incredibly.”

“Well, that’s all we want for you. If it’s with Joel, then we’re good, right?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief at her words, her acceptance, her demand of your dad to recenter himself and his ire. You turn to look at Joel and see tears sitting in the waterline of his eyes that are focused on you. He gives you a small smile. 

How could you not love this man? How could anybody doubt the power of what you two share?

“That is what we want for you, but I am concerned. People will have questions. Joel is a part of this team’s history and now my daughter is dating him.”

“I understand that.”

“I know you do, Duck. You can make your own decisions, you haven’t lived under our rules for a very long time. I trust you. As long as you are happy and you understand that there will be roadblocks up ahead with the public eye, then I can be on board. People talk, the internet talks and you’re signing yourself up for a lot of people talking about you. I know you realize that, but does Miller?”

“I do, sir,” Joel says, the first words spoken from him, with the “sir” sternly emphasized. “Look, I don’t care what anybody has to say, people’s opinions never mattered to me. I know you’re well aware of that. I love your daughter. She has been with me every step of the way since I learned I was no longer a Capital. I apologize that this is all at once ’n that this is how you’re finding out, but I do not apologize for the way I feel about your daughter. I love her.”

You watch Joel’s lips as he speaks his confession to your parents, wondering how you could be so lucky to have found him and to have his heart the way that you do.  

“Listen, I know you two are smart, and Miller, you know at the end of the day I respect the hell out of you. If my daughter is happy, that’s all I can hope for as her father. As much as I worry about her, I know she can make her own decisions.” 

“As a father to a college student now, I understand that sir. You have my word that I will stop at nothing to keep your daughter happy.” 

“We know that Joel,” your mom’s soft voice soothes the conversation. “I just wish we would have known about this sooner. I’m a bit upset that it took you long enough to let us know. We just want you to be aware of what issues might arise for you two.”

“Whatever happens, it’s just white noise to us. It’s my choice—it’s our choice,” you say. “We’ve talked about everything before, we are fully aware.” 

“I can’t tell you what to do Duck, Mom can’t tell you what to do. Miller’s a good man, underneath it all, I know that. If you are happy with him, then we are happy for you.”

“This is the happiest I’ve been.”

“We’re glad sweetheart, so glad,” your mom chokes out. At least they’re happy tears. “We’ll be here for you, always. I guess we won’t see you this week.”

“No, Joel needs me, I don’t want to leave him.” 

“Alright then, feel better Miller, we love you Duck,” your dad’s voice softens. “Take care and keep us updated, okay?”

“Thank you sir,” Joel respectfully responds.

“I will. Love you guys, bye.” You end the call and let out a big sigh of relief. 

One down, two more to go. 

“I’m proud of you baby,” Joel breathes out against your hair.

“Heh, thanks. I think?”

“I know you were nervous.”

“Oh, yeah. Still kinda dumb how I’m intimidated by them but… I think it all worked out in the end.”

“It did baby. Why does your dad call you Duck?”

“It’s short for duck snort.”

“...Like the baseball term?”

“Yep, I used to be a crazy toddler and thought my parents chasing me was funny. One day my dad called me a duck snort because I’d always get away and ‘win’, and it kinda stuck.”

He smiles, stroking your cheek. “That’s so fucking cute. ”

“Speaking of daughters, when are you going to tell Sarah?” 

“Later. I’m all phoned out for the time being, want to rest my back and take a nap. That one was a little tense.”

“A nap sounds amazing,” you stretch and adjust to put your head on Joel’s chest, your favorite pillow.

——

“Joel,” you blink your eyes open, “the sun’s going down. I think we overslept.”

“Mm, I’m up. Been up.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You’ve had a long couple of days, wanted to let you sleep.”

“You’re due for your pills,” you yawn, getting up.

“I am.”

He winces as you hand him his medicine and glass of water. 

“You alright?” 

“Been better, just really hurts right now. Plus, I should call Sarah before it gets too late. I just texted Tommy and told him.”

“Oh?” You turn on Joel’s heating pad and hand him the remote.

“Yeah, he texted me and asked me how I was getting along and if my nurse was hot. Told him about everything. He was happy for me and congratulated me on my hot nurse.”

“He’s ridiculous,” you shake your head. “I’m going to go make dinner, I’ll leave you to call Sarah.” You kiss the top of his forehead.

“Thanks baby.” 

——

You quietly step into Joel’s room holding a tray with his plate full of steak, rice and broccoli, Joel’s go to in season meal.

“Hey sweets, my dinner is here. I gotta go.”

“Can I—can I say hi to her?”

You smile at Sarah’s sweet voice as Joel looks past his phone to you. You nod and walk over placing the tray on Joel’s lap.

“Sure, here she is.”

Well, this is new. You’ve never been with anybody who has a child, let alone a college aged kid. You know Sarah, you love her, you used to chase her around the club box years ago. 

You grab the phone, she’s gotten so beautiful. Same brown eyes as her dad, deep dimples as she smiles, long curly hair. She’s a young woman now, just as gorgeous as her dad. 

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again.”

“Oh my god! Hi! It is! Wish it wasn’t through the phone but I, just, I wanted to say that, I-I am very happy that Dad finally found somebody and it’s you!”

“Well, I am too.”

“He told me you’re doing a better job than I ever would at taking care of him, so I don’t need to tell you to take good care of him.”

“I try,” you chuckle. 

“Thanks for saying hi to me, I’ll let you go, I know you have dinner!”

“Of course Sarah, any time. I’ll hand you back to your dad now.”

You keep your smile as you hand the phone back to Joel. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him this happy before, eyes alight with a large grin on his face. You never noticed how his dimple matches Sarah’s. 

Your shoulders feel lighter now that the most important people know, and accept, your love. 

The secret’s out. 

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 2 Home Run Derby

Greeting Doctor Arroyo with a smile, you leave him in the living room to wait. 

"Joel," you peek your head into the bedroom. "He's here."

"Send him in," he replies, sitting up higher.

Showing the doctor the way, he thanks you. 

"Thanks, Mrs. Miller."

You let out a little laugh. "Not the wife, just the girlfriend."

Giving you a small smile, he leaves you in the hallway with thoughts of being Mrs. Miller swirling in your head.

After the doctor leaves, you sit on the edge of the bed.

“So, what’d he say?” 

“Still stuck like this for the next few days. Wants me to do some stretches and move around more, going to check on me in two more days again. Said I’m recovering well, told him it’s because I have a good nurse.” 

“You do have a good nurse… that’s better news than I was expecting at least.”

“Yep, and he took the bandage off from my shot so I can finally take a shower.” 

“Oh?”

“Oh is right,” his eyes darken, “but you’re gonna have to wash me, nurse.”

“I can do that, not only am I your nurse but I’m also your wife according to Dr. Arroyo.”

“Oh?”

“Oh is right,” you wink. “I told him I’m your girlfriend.”

“Should’ve told him you’re not my wife… yet.”

“I’m happy with girlfriend right now Mr. Miller.”

“My sweet independent girl.” 

“Eh, your sweet independent nurse now. Come on, let’s get you washed Mr. Miller.”

“Yes ma’am.”

——

Joel hobbles into the bathroom as you adjust the temperature of the shower. 

“It’s hot, too hot, just like you like it Mr. Miller.”

“God, I love it when you call me that. Now nurse,” he smirks, “come help me with my clothes.”

“Right away Mr. Miller,” you reply, sauntering over to him.

“What a pretty nurse you are, have a feeling you’re going to take REAL good care of me,” he raises his arms over his head as you lift his shirt up.

“I’ll sure try to take good care of you Mr. Miller. Did you want me to remove your shorts?”

“Yes nurse.”

You lean forward, grabbing the waistband of his pants to lower them down, running your gaze appreciatively over his half-hard cock.

You look up and angle your eyebrow at him. “I can see you’re quite excited for your shower Mr. Miller.”

“Mm.” 

“Go ahead and get in, it’s all ready for you.” 

“But you’re not. Take your clothes off.”

“Now, Mr. Miller, I can’t get naked for you, but I can take this off.” You slip the straps of your dress down your arms and shimmy out of it, leaving only your white cotton bra and underwear on. “You know, gotta stay decent while taking care of my patient.”

He hums in appreciation, taking in the sight. Turning, he steps into the shower with a groan of contentment.

“Feel good?” You ask grabbing a wash cloth. 

“Very.”

He leans forward, placing his arms on the wall and stretches his back as the water hits his skin. Water trickles down the deep plains of his spine, the strong muscles of his back gleaming under the sheen of water. You follow the river that falls from his neck, down his back bone, past the two lower back dimples you love, past the slight curve of his behind and down his hairy legs. He is all man… your man. It’s a shame all the water that lands across his body is wasted on the drain. 

“Is the temperature good?”

“S’perfect,” he grunts.

“Want me to scrub you sir?”

“Heh,” he turns his head to look at you, “with a nurse that looks like you? ‘Course I do.”

The drops of water sear your skin as you step into the water.

“Jesus Joel, it’s hot in here.”

“Mm,” he reaches over and turns the water cooler before turning around, his eyes darkening as he notices the fabric of your bra cups has turned see-through. “Better?” His eyes stay on your chest.

“Better. Now, let’s get you washed, sir.”

“I’m all yours.” 

You grab Joel’s bar of soap, lathering your hands up with the eucalyptus scented bar. Your hands run across his chest leaving lines of suds along his skin, and he lets out a small groan as you rub soapy circles over his stomach. 

He reaches a hand up and pinches your nipple underneath the sheer wet fabric. 

“Feel good sir?”

“Very. Such a good nurse.”

You step closer to him, his hard cock jutting against your stomach as you wash his arms. Your fingers press tight along his biceps and his shoulders, releasing the tension.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes out, “you’re driving me crazy like this.” 

“Well, get ready, I need to wash your legs and…” you wrap your hand around his erection, “this… sir.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groans and shakes his head. “Go ahead nurse.”

You reach around him and grab the soap before kneeling on the tile floor. 

Your soapy hands glide along Joel’s legs, his calf muscles firm under your touch, his thighs soft as you move closer to Joel’s hard cock dripping water and precum. You move your hands along the back of his thighs, cradling the bottom of his ass cheeks before pushing him forward and sealing your mouth over his cock. 

“CHRIST!” Joel’s shout echoes across the bathroom, his hands splaying against the glass.  

Pulling back, you look up.

“You alright? Is this too much?”

“No, no sweetheart,” his eyes soften as he reaches down and holds your cheek, “it felt really good. Go on baby,” Joel leans against the shower wall, “prove to me I’m your favorite patient.”

A long groan escapes Joel’s mouth as you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth. You take him deeper in, sucking the water off of his length as he grabs a handful of your wet hair, your mouth slurping along his length. You clench your thighs together as you feel your cunt throb with arousal.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he chants. 

Water dripping off of Joel’s skin pelts your face as he fills your mouth, your nose brushing against the coarse hair of him there, his cock repeatedly brushing the back of your throat causing a string of saliva to drool out of your mouth.

“Touch yourself, touch your pussy while you suck me baby.”

Your hand reaches underneath your soaked cotton panties, your fingers ghosting across your swollen clit. You moan as you press down and swirl around the bundle of nerves.

His hips jut forward when you hollow your cheeks around him sucking as you bob your head along his length, your free hand cradling his balls and massaging the soft skin of them, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm.

“So good baby, fucking hell,” his grip on your hair tightens, “going to give you my cum soon if you keep that up.” 

Your eyes look up to him, he tilts his head down and gives you a blissed out half smile, water cascades down his face and falls onto your skin. The way he looks at you, the line on his forearm straining as he holds your hair, his warm cock stretching your mouth open, the feel of water dripping down your throat mixed with the taste of Joel. The sensation is too much, you whimper around Joel’s cock as you orgasm. Your fingers drown with your arousal, your mouth goes slack around him as warmth spreads through your limbs. Your hand collects the hot slick that leaks out of you, spreading it all over Joel’s shaft, pumping him with your fist as you suck the tip of him. 

“Close,” he pants, “lemme cum in that mouth, wanna see your mouth filled with me.” 

You nod and moan as you tighten your grip and suck harder.

He chants your name as he empties his release into your open mouth, the last spurt of him landing on your outstretched tongue.

He untangles his hand from your hair, running it down your face to grab your chin and angle it up.

“Swallow it baby.” 

His blown out brown eyes watch in worshiping awe as you seal your mouth shut and gulp down the salty taste of him before licking your lips. 

“All good Mr. Miller?”

“Quite… best nurse I ever had.” 

—-

“He reminds me of you,” you muse, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl as you and Joel watch the Austin Capitals’ rookie phenom James Neal hit ball after ball over the fence of Capitals Stadium. 

“He better. He’s my replacement.” Joel grumbles. 

“How do you feel about not being there?” 

“Tonight isn’t as bad, I always hated the Derby, having to sit on the field and play nice with the cameras. Tomorrow is going to suck.”

“I know it will, I’m sorry this is happening to you. You deserve everything this season. I know everything hasn’t gone the way you’ve wanted but I couldn’t be prouder of how you’ve handled it.”

“Don’t think I’d be able to do it without you baby,” he kisses the top of your head as James Neal hits his twentieth home run over the fence. 

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 3 The All-Star Game

And the first pitch of the sixth inning is a strike. Scott steps back into the box, swings… and a miss. Strike two. Bridges winds up, and Scott hits a ground ball to first and—OH! Reynolds misreads it and it gets past him, two runs score. The American League now leads by two in the sixth! 

“I would’ve caught that,” Joel bitterly says. 

“I know you would’ve All-Star,” you console, leaning against him and wrapping an arm around him. 

“Mmf, you can’t lay on me like that.” 

“Sorry, does it hurt?”

“No, not even close. Just… feels real good having you all naked and pressed up against me like that.”

“Sorry.”

Joel plants his hand against your back, keeping you from moving away. 

“Stay, I like it. If I was on that field right now I couldn’t feel you like this.”

“Oh yeah?” Your hand runs a trail down his shorts and grips the heft of him. “Definitely wouldn’t be able to feel this.”

“Definitely not,” he groans. 

“Definitely couldn’t pull your shorts down and touch you if you were playing right now.”

“No,” he grunts, lifting his hips up allowing you to remove his shorts. 

You wrap your hand around his half hard cock. “And surely, I couldn’t jerk you off if you were on that field.” 

“Fuck, no,” he grits, hardening under your touch.

“Did you want to watch the game in peace or do you want me to take care of you?” 

“Take care baby,” he kisses you, “fuck this game.”

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

Your body overheats as you slide down Joel, straddling his thick thighs, taking his cock in hand, rubbing it along your dripping cunt and slowly settling yourself on his length.

Joel’s lips part, his big brown eyes staring at you as a long moan leaves your mouth savoring the feel of his cock stretching you. 

“You feel so good,” his head thuds against the pillow. “I haven’t felt your pussy like this in forever. Fucking missed it.” 

Your hips rock back and forth still adjusting to the size of him as he grabs your tits and massages the weight of them in his calloused hands. 

“This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

You’re too blissed out to answer, too overwhelmed by the size of him. All you can muster is an isolated nod and whine arching your back while he pinches and pulls your nipples into peaks. 

“You gonna fuck me baby? You gonna fuck me like the All-Star I am? Come on baby, prove to me I’m your All-Star.”

You rise and fall on his cock, grinding your hips down each time he stuffs you full. 

“Look so good like this baby,” Joel juts his hips up “you’re the only fucking trophy I need.” 

You lean in as your thighs begin to tremble bringing his hand to your lips. Joel’s blown out pupils focus on your tongue as it traces the circles of his tattoo.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps. 

Your pussy clenches at his praise, Joel’s cock hits the sensitive spot you want to feel him the most. 

“Cum for me, let me feel you strangle my cock, cum for me baby,” Joel’s gravelly voice encourages as he pulls his hand from your mouth, tugging you down against his chest. 

Your cunt flutters around him as your orgasm shatters into you. Your mouth going slack, drool falling out and landing on Joel’s chest as you scream his name and writhe on top of him.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, fuck, you’re fucking gripping me baby, not going to last long like this.”

You summon as much energy as you can leaning forward to lick the golden skin of his neck as you grind your hips against his, your soaked pussy pumping his cock.

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” he pants. “Gonna cum.” 

Joel lets out a long groan as his hips jerk up into you, warmth blooming through your core as his cock empties into you. You both stay frozen collectively catching your breaths as you come down from your shared bliss. His cock slips from you as you lift up to kiss him, both of your spends dribbling down between your thighs.

“Did I make you feel like the All-Star you are?”

“Mm,” he smiles, pulling away, ”I love being a baseball player sometimes.”

You turn towards the TV. “It’s tied now.” 

“Mm, for the first time ever, I really don’t care.”

You stay cuddled in his bed for the remainder of the game, today is definitely your favorite All-Star Game experience.

Well folks, that’ll do it for this year’s All-Star Game here in beautiful Austin, Texas. The National League wins in a 4-3 victory over the American League. We’ll see you next year. 

“Good game, I really enjoyed the sixth inning.”

“Guess it’s good we get home field advantage in the World Series,” Joel shrugs.

“Always thinking ahead.” “Always. Had a plan for a whole thing after the game but life had other plans. I, uh, grabbed this when I was changing earlier,” Joel opens his bedside table and pulls out a small gray suede box.

Your heart skips a beat at the implication of what it could be. There’s no way.

“It’s okay baby, don’t panic, it’s not that. Now that everybody knows, I want you to be able to wear me wherever you go.” 

He opens the box, a delicate gold necklace with a pendant of his number hangs from it.

“Joel,” you breathe out as tears prick your eyes, “it’s so… beautiful.”

“That first night I had the chain was the night I had you in the back of that club. I tried for so long to stay away from you, and yet you were always there, like some forbidden treasure I could never have… now we’re together and this is the happiest I’ve ever been.” Joel swipes the tears from your cheeks as they fall, “I love you so much sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” you smile as you take the box and remove the necklace. 

“Put it on baby, lemme see it.”

You clasp the necklace behind your neck and lower your arms. Joel pets the gold pendant against your skin. 

“Beautiful,” Joel whispers.

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

[irondad-defensesquad]

The perks of being a wallflower - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Also on AO3! (Starts from first chapter)

TRIGGER WARNINGS (for this chapter) - mentions of suicidal thoughts and self-harm

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

Weird. Apparently, the kid left earlier today, according to Happy. Peter is in school.

Tony has been feeling a little guilty for telling Peter to go to bed the way he did. Although Peter wasn’t in any condition to be in the workshop, the teen looked pretty drained. Not just physically but emotionally as well.

Thus, Tony thought he could make some nice breakfast for Peter. But then he found the boy’s bedroom empty. Peter must have left in a rush since he left his room messy. It’s not like him to leave without saying anything to Tony.

Regardless, the man starts organizing Peter’s things, like the bed and the abandoned clothes everywhere. The entire time, Tony tries to figure out what’s going on.

That is, when a white envelope lying on Peter’s desk catches his attention. Especially the big “Mr. Stark” written on it.

Huh, so he left Tony a letter? Peter usually texts him or calls him when he needs Tony.

The man carefully opens it, finding a handwritten letter. It looks messy but still readable. And the paper seems to have… dried teardrops. Quite a few of them.

“Dear Tony,

Dear Mr. Stark,

I’m so sorry I was messing everything up in the lab. I didn’t mean to make you angry.

I’m not feeling very good lately, for some reason. I mean, everything is better now, right? I love coming over and building things with you. That’s my favorite part of the week. But I’ve been feeling so bad, worse than I’ve felt in a while. I wanted to cry so badly and I didn’t want you to see me like this, because it’s not your fault, Mr. Stark.

I’m so tired. I want to die again. Or cut myself again. But F.R.I.DA.Y would let you know and you would probably get angrier with me.

So I’m gonna leave in the morning, okay? Maybe I should be alone for a while. You don’t want to deal with me like this. Again, I’m really sorry I ruined our time together.

I guess I’ll see you around.

Love Sincerely,

Peter”

…

Oh my god.

This is why Peter was feeling so off yesterday. Tony just assumed Peter was being irresponsible and not getting enough sleep. But the signs were so clear. And Tony didn’t even bother to check in on the kid.

He immediately takes his phone again to text Peter. He decides not to call in case Peter is in class right now.

Tony: Hey kid

Tony: You’re at school, right?

Well, the GPS says he’s in Midtown. Then again, Peter could abandon his phone somewhere or hack it like he did his Spider-Man suit before. In the meantime, Tony asks Happy if the driver noticed anything off about Peter. Happy only says that he noticed the kid was quieter than usual, but he just assumed Peter was tired.

Eventually, probably during Peter’s morning break, Tony gets a reply.

Peter: sup

Peter: yeah why?

Thank goodness.

Tony: I was just wondering if we could grab a bite after school’s over. Sounds fun, right?

The typing dots take a while to appear.

Peter: uh sure

Peter: is everything ok mr stark?

Tony: Of course, kiddo. I just miss you.

Peter: you literally saw me yesterday

Tony: Well, you left without even eating my masterchef breakfast.

Peter: you always burn the pancakes lol

Tony: Shush, that only happened once.

Peter may be joking around but Tony knows better than that.

Tony: Okay, I’ll pick you up then we can eat whatever you want. Sounds good?

Peter: ok mr stark

Tony: Alright. Sorry to bug you. See you later, kid.

Peter: see ya

Now Tony will only see Peter at 3 PM. He’ll just have to know what he’s going to do when they see each other again.

--

Tony is waiting inside the car, watching all the kids leaving school. Then he sees Peter talking to Ned. He’s smiling and laughing with his best friend. It all feels like any ordinary day… except Tony is keeping Peter’s letter with him.

Peter and Ned do that handshake of theirs, not without Ned staring at Tony’s car with amazement. He waves hello despite not being able to see Tony from outside due to the windows.

Regardless, Peter gets in the car with his usual casual smile. Though he seems a little suspicious of Tony’s sudden invitation.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter says regardless.

“Hey, kid. Did you have a good day?”

“I guess so.”

Tony is unable to really hide his concern, so Peter’s smile fades quickly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark, what’s all this about?” He doesn’t ask impatiently, he just doesn’t understand. He’s not even expecting Tony to apologize to him for being rude to Peter. Because he believes it’s his fault for not feeling well.

Tony sighs deeply, taking a moment before revealing the envelope, which was carefully closed again.

“... I read your letter.”

Peter’s eyes widen like never before. He snatches the envelope quickly.

“What?! No, you weren’t”– Peter looks like he wants to tear the letter into pieces –“You weren’t supposed to read it!”

“What do you mean? It was on your desk and it had my name,” Tony gently points out.

“No, I forgot it there! I was supposed to take it with me!”

“But you still wanted to tell me something, right?”

Peter groans, angrier at himself than anything. Tony almost puts a hand on his shoulder but he doesn’t know if that’s going to help.

“This is so embarrassing,” the teen says, wanting to cry.

“Kid–”

“No, I mean…”

Peter takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Ever since I was a kid, I would… write letters to you. I did send you the first ones but that was a long time ago. I knew you wouldn’t reply ‘cause you had more important things to do… but I kept writing more and more, imagining you’d be able to read them somehow. These letters got a lot more personal and no one else knew about them, not even Aunt May or Ned… or my uncle. I stopped writing them when I became Spider-Man because I wouldn’t really have time, and well… I got to know you, so why keep writing letters, right?”

The teenager starts letting out tears. He tries to hide them.

“But this last week… I dunno what happened. I started feeling really bad again. I was afraid of telling you that and I screwed up. So I thought it’d be better if I left before I ruined everything for good.”

Now, Tony squeezes his shoulder.

“Peter…”

“I-I didn’t, like… plan to do anything against myself. But I’m still thinking about it. Things are gonna get bad again and I don’t want them to. I wish I could stop it for once.”

The moment Peter starts sobbing, Tony pulls him in a hug.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I’m sorry I’m such a mess…”

“Shhh… I’m sorry I got angry with you, kid. I should’ve talked to you.”

“It’s not your fault…”

“It’s not your fault, kid. You deserve to be heard.”

Peter is shaking his head but he’s not protesting. His tensions slowly disappear as he returns the hug. He just sinks in it completely, like he’s been wanting a hug from Tony for years.

“You can tell me when you’re not feeling well. I promise I’ll listen and try to help you,” the man reassures him.

“I just don’t wanna lose you, Mr. Stark…”

“You won’t. I’ll be here for you, okay?”

Peter lets go of a breath he’s been holding back this whole time.

“Okay.”

Tony squeezes him a little tighter.

Eventually, they let go.

Peter’s face is tear-stained and red all over. He’s contemplating the envelope in his hands, not wanting to destroy it anymore.

“So… you mean you wrote more letters to me?” Tony asks.

“Oh, man… I wrote a lot. And they’re so embarrassing. If you already find my rambles annoying, they only get worse in the letters.”

“Well, I love your rambles, kid.”

Peter smiles shyly.

“I think I lost some with how often I moved,” he reflects. “But most of them are with me.”

“Hmm.”

Silence.

“... do you really want to read them?” Peter doubts.

“Only if you’re alright with it. I would love to know you better, but you don’t need to show them to me if you’re not comfortable.”

There’s a spark in Peter’s eyes, which must come from his child self, that actually really wants Tony to know what he has in mind. The kind of things he couldn’t translate into any other way.

“I could… um… send them to you at some point. There are a lot of letters. It’s okay if you can’t read all of them and like I said, they’re really cringy and dumb.”

“You’re not dumb.”

“Still, Mr. Stark.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen my letters. I’m actually bad at them.”

Peter rolls his eyes at his mentor, who takes them to Delmar’s. They get some sandwiches and chat for a bit. Then Tony points out Peter shouldn’t be on his own when he has suicidal or self-harming thoughts. Especially considering May hasn’t been home often due to her night shifts. Therefore, Tony offers Peter to stay with him for a while, so he has company and safety. There are also doctors that can help him if Peter needs them.

Tony admits he’s a little surprised that the boy accepts the offer. But of course, he’s relieved that Peter is accepting help.

His stay lasts a week or so. Peter slowly feels better again, so he goes back home, promising he’ll keep in touch.

Soon, Tony receives a huge box of letters.

Peter jokes with a sticky note, “Careful! Fragile”.

Tony will certainly read all of these.

--

Dear Peter,

Hey, buddy! I’m only a couple years late. Better now than never, right?

I’ve read nearly all of your letters and I will finish the remaining ones. I am definitely going to reply to every single one of them, just you wait. But I would like to tell you a few things first.

I want to thank you for all your letters and for sending them to me. I’m glad I could help you feel less lonely in a way. I know you don’t have it easy, kid.

I also wanted to remind you, it’s not your fault. You were struggling with so many things at once, especially with your powers. You always did the best you could, and you keep doing your best. You don’t know how proud I am of you.

Finally, thank you for being you. You are so talented, Peter. My greatest honor is getting to know you, including your sad parts. You can trust me with them. I hope I never make you doubt that again.

Many hugs,

Tony

P.S.: Do you still have that mini arc reactor you built? That would be the greatest birthday present ever.

P.S.2: Do you have your camera? I want to see your photos as well. Hell, when I thought you couldn’t be more talented…

[lotusthewriter]

Sing me to sleep (I don't want to wake up on my own anymore)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Steven & Lars

Characters: Steven Quartz Universe, Lars Barriga; MINOR - Pearl

Summary: Steven gets a surprise visit. Post-I Am My Monster.

Word count: 1.576

AO3

A/N: This was inspired by The Perks of Being a Wallflower, a movie I FINALLY got to watch. I really enjoyed it, so much that it's making me listen to The Smiths on repeat now. Help.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, overdose, medications, and depression

DO NOT SHIP LARS AND STEVEN. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

“Steven?”

The motherly, angelic voice that always brings him joy and love every morning… is only a grim reminder.

Steven didn’t want to hear it again.

He turns around to not face Pearl, who keeps her distance to respect his space, as far as he can tell.

“We have a surprise for you,” she says teasingly, like that one time before Steven accidentally shot his old water gun at her.

Steven whines, “I’m not hungry.” He wants to say leave me alone, but he doesn’t.

Immediately he can tell Pearl is rolling her eyes affectionately at him.

“Would you just turn around?”

It takes everything for Steven to follow her command, and when he finally opens his eyes he finds Pearl, and…

“... Lars?!”

“Hey, Steven,” Lars grins at him. He’s wearing more casual clothes than the last time Steven saw him, like he lives in the Universe residence.

“We’re going to talk to Dr. Maheswaran while you two stay here,” Pearl instructs them. “I’m sure you have a lot to catch up.”

Steven gulps, wondering if they told Lars about… the monster incident. From the looks of it, he’s assuming they didn’t. Lars might look concerned but he doesn’t seem desperate; it’s really a more casual visit.

Suddenly, Pearl is kissing Steven’s forehead.

“Call us if you need, alright?” She whispers to him.

He nods tiredly.

Before she leaves she puts a trusting hand on Lars’ shoulder. The pale gem nods at him and smiles, then finally goes downstairs.

So, there are only the boys in the room. Steven is too exhausted to stand up and hug Lars the tightest he can.

And maybe Lars catches on to that, because he’s the one going to the bed and wrapping his arms around him.

For the first time in a while, Steven feels… alive.

He feels like existing just for this hug.

It lasts a while. Lars doesn’t complain.

Steven smiles, content, eyes tearing up but not shedding anything.

Lars sighs and pats his back, letting go. Steven doesn’t want it to end. He does nothing about it.

“So,” Lars claps his hands together. “What’s up?”

“Oh,” Steven yawns. “Nothing much. I’ve been just… sleeping.”

Lars snorts. “I envy you.”

The half-gem frowns. “I thought you’d be in space for…” Forever. “A long time?”

“Ah, yeah, I dunno.”

“Don’t tell me space got boring.”

“Actually… yeah, it kinda did.”

Steven blinks. “What? How come?”

Lars is the one who looks sad now.

“I mean, space is neat, I liked going out there again, but… it’s not the same thing, y’know? I missed home. I missed you guys.” He’s wrapping an arm around Steven to squeeze him in a half hug. “I missed you.”

The younger boy’s eyes widen. “You… missed me?”

Lars laughs but worriedly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend.”

Steven shouldn’t be surprised, should he?

“I… I guess I just thought…” he gulps, “you’d be better off without me.”

Admittedly, these words were meant to be in his head.

Lars looks hurt.

“Of course not, Steven. I really like your company.”

Then why didn’t you stay when I asked you to? Steven wants to bite. But no, it’s unfair to say that now that Lars is opening his heart to him.

“I missed your visits, too,” Lars leans on him, so Steven’s head is under his chin. “The Off Colors also wondered how you were doing. I didn’t bring them today because your family told me you might want some privacy.”

Indeed, he doesn’t know.

Steven is unsure whether he’s relieved or not.

“I…” he sniffs, silencing the tears before they can come out. “I missed you, too.”

So much, he wants to say. So, so, so, so much.

Lars probably hears it.

“Yeah.”

Steven blushes. “How long are you staying?”

“I dunno, a while. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we spend more time together.” Lars winks at him.

“Yeah… that’d be nice.”

Steven doesn’t have the heart to tell him.

Lars is looking around the big bedroom, admiring the decoration. As Steven lies on his chest and is relaxing again into deep slumber…

“What’s this?”

His friend is holding a small plastic pot.

Steven curses internally.

“Oh, that… that helps me sleep,” he explains as vaguely as possible.

Lars is frowning suspiciously.

“It’s empty.”

Dammit.

“The gems know you need more, right?” Lars asks him.

Steven wants to sleep.

He just wants to sleep.

Like he should have.

“Steven.”

“It’s fine, Lars, I’ll just… text Dr. Maheswaran later.”

He tries to sleep – and hopefully not wake up –, when Lars cups his face for better observation. Steven is avoiding the other’s big worried eyes, unable to hide anything.

“Steven,” Lars says seriously. “You don’t look well. You should go to the hospital.”

“No, Lars, I’m fine.”

“I’m not stupid, Steven. I know what you did with these pills.”

Lars lets go – he can’t let go, he can’t – and is taking his phone from his pocket, quickly texting someone.

“Wait, don’t tell them, please!” Steven begs.

Lars ignores him.

“Don’t do this to me, don’t- don’t do this to them, Lars,” the other tries.

The older one sighs. “I’m taking you there, come on.”

As Lars bends down to pick him up, Steven flinches away.

“No.”

“Steven.”

“No, don’t do this.”

“Steven, don’t make me take you by force.”

“Please, don’t.” Steven can’t hold the tears to himself anymore.

Lars sighs, softening his expression. “I just want to help you.”

“You can’t help me.”

“You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m not.”

“Steven, please, let me help.”

“I said you can’t help me!” Steven slaps the other’s hands away.

Lars doesn’t even get angry.

He just looks sorrowful.

Why isn’t he angry?

“Why can’t I help?” Lars asks, broken.

“Because you can’t.”

“Steven, tell me why I can’t help you.”

“You just can’t!”

“Why?” Lars starts losing his patience.

“BECAUSE I’M A MONSTER!”

The one thing he never wanted to tell him.

Lars is confused.

“I’m a monster, okay?!” Steven yells. “I- I literally turned into one and I almost destroyed everything! I almost killed my own family! I- I SHATTERED Jasper! I only did horrible things and everyone is trying their best to help me, but it’s not going anywhere!”

Steven cries horrors, feeling like at any moment he’s going to turn into that pink aberration again, and the last thing he wants is to hurt Lars, again.

“St… Steven–”

“Just let me go to sleep!” Steven screams. “JUST LET ME DIE!”

He sobs and turns away from his friend, covering himself in blankets. Every sob that comes out of his chest hurts badly, and he’s so tired of this pain. He wants it to stop for once.

Beyond his noises of despair, the room has grown awfully silent. You might think Lars has even left. Maybe so.

But he feels another weight on his bed, and a hand reaching out to the back of his head, caressing his curls.

Steven hates that he can’t resist.

“I’m so tired, Lars,” he says in the middle of tears. “I’m tired of this pain. I’m…” he hiccups. “I’m tired of being alone.”

Lars is then… lying down and wrapping an arm around the blanketed Steven, like he’s hugging a giant burrito.

“D… D-Do you ever get lonely, even when you’re around people?” Steven asks, knowing very well the answer.

The taller boy sighs, pulling him closer. Steven can’t do this anymore. He’s turning around and hugging Lars back with everything he has.

Lars doesn’t say anything.

They just hug one another like the world is ending.

Indeed, Steven is afraid he’s going to turn into a monster again. But Lars keeping a hold on him… helps him feel a little less scared.

Or at least, feel that it’s okay to be scared.

Steven eventually calms down in the hug, and even then Lars doesn’t let go for a long, long time.

He wishes he could stay here forever.

But…

He knows he can’t.

Steven is the one that lets go, with fears consuming him.

“Do you…” he gulps, “do you think they’re going to hate me?”

Lars wipes his tears for him.

“No,” he says simply.

Steven tears up more. “Do you hate me?”

“No,” Lars answers like it's absurd to ever hate Steven Universe.

“Even though I’m a monster?”

“You’re not a monster.”

“But I did so many awful things.”

“And you’ve been through a lot of awful things, too.” Lars smiles sadly. “You deserve love, Steven, and you deserve help.”

Steven is looking at him in the eye, seeing how honest his friend is brings more tears to the table.

“I promise you I’m going to stay with you,” Lars says. “Do you trust me?

The other nods without hesitation.

“You’re going to be okay, Steven. I’ll be right there with you.”

Steven nods again.

Lars picks him up less desperately, making sure Steven feels okay with it. Then, the former is screaming a portal right in front of them, the same way Lion does.

Steven is afraid still, unsure what’s going to happen on the other side.

But at least Lars has got him.

And he’s not letting go.

Steven embraces himself, protected in the other’s arms.

Lars then goes for it.

Whatever they face, they’re doing it together.

Steven smiles as they head through the light.

Whatever happens, things will be okay.

It’s okay

You’ve got nothing to fear

I’m here

I’m here

[munsonsbabygirl]

even hotter

part 1: pretty hot | part 3: hotter than ever

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader 

Summary: Being mad at Eddie makes for a pretty unforgettable night. 

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it people!), oral + fingering (f receiving), car sex, riding, some hair pulling, slight overstimulation, creampie

wc: 3.4k

a/n: i think i need to go touch some grass after this

(photos found on pinterest)

Eddie doesn’t call. 

Not the day after, or the day after that, or even a few days after that. At first, you think he’s just being coy. You get it—play hard to get and you’ll fall right into his lap the next time you see him. But after a full week goes by without anything from him, you’re angry. You don’t hear a peep from him until he’s walking into The Hideout for Corroded Coffin’s second set the following week.

So when he saunters into the bar again with his bandmates, you ignore him. 

He knows you’re mad at him. You’re not exactly hiding it. You refuse to look at him, purposely avoiding his attempts to talk to you by busying yourself with anything and everything so you wouldn't give in to his guilty puppy dog eyes. It’s a hard thing to do, considering how every time you look at him, your mind flashes back to the last time you saw him, just after he’d fucked you against the wall behind the bar. You want nothing more than to jump his bones again, but you won’t. You want him to stew in his guilt. You’re petty like that. 

Eddie finally corners you in the back office when you go to grab a few more rolls of quarters for the register before Corroded Coffin’s set, sneaking in behind you and closing the door. You turn to him, arms crossed over your chest as you fix him to the spot with a withering glare that he shifts uncomfortably under. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurts, fiddling with the heavy silver ring on his pinky. 

“You should be.” 

“I’m an idiot.” 

“You are.” 

“I know. I wanted to call you too. I just—I’m not good at this.”

“I know. I wanted to call you too. I just—I’m not good at this.”

“I know. I wanted to call you too. I just—I’m not good at this.”

“This?” 

“Feelings.” 

“Feelings?” You really feel like a parrot right now, just repeating everything Eddie says, but nothing he’s saying is making any sense. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Y/N. But every time I even looked at the phone, I chickened out because…fuck, I don’t even know why!” Eddie groans, linking his hands behind his neck as he paces back and forth in front of you. “All I know is we had sex once and I shouldn’t be thinking about you all the time, but I am. And I’m a complete dick for not calling you, and I’m sorry.” 

“You’re still an idiot.” You huff, but you’re a little less mad than before, and he can tell, because he makes his way across the room, looping his arms around your waist. His nose dips down into the crook of your neck immediately. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He murmurs, punctuating each apology with a kiss to your skin. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

There’s that nickname again. 

You hate it, but you can feel your anger start to melt away at the allure of his stupid pleading chocolate brown eyes, the stroke of his thumb against your cheek, the firmness of his chest pressed against yours. Even though you're a little hurt he didn't call after he said he would, you can't be mad at him anymore. 

Not when you were the one who told him you’d be here for him even if he didn't call. Not when you could feel yourself starting to get wet the second he walked in earlier. 

“Let me make it up to you.” He insists, sliding his hand around the nape of your neck. You roll your eyes, but he just nods sharply and pulls you closer, so close that you can feel every part of him pressed up against you. And you mean every part. Eddie’s sporting a semi, pushed flush against the front of your jeans. 

You’d be lying if you said just the feeling of it didn't make your thighs clench a little bit. Even though you're still slightly mad at him, he's still hot, and you're still longing for him to dick you down again like he did last week. 

“How?” You’re sure your voice is a little too breathless, but you don’t care. 

Eddie’s eyes scan the tiny office, landing on the battered couch in the corner and smirking. Without responding, his hands snake around your waist, backing you up until you’re against the cushions with him shoved between your legs. You’re slightly confused, but when he sinks down on his knees, everything becomes clear. 

His gaze meets yours in a silent question of ‘are you okay with this?’, and you just lean forward, pressing your lips against his heatedly in lieu of a response. He kisses you back fervently for a little bit, then pulls away, instead opting to kiss a trail down the valley of your tits, right down to the strip of bare skin between your top and the waistband of your jeans. 

“Let’s get these off, shall we?” He hums, shimmying your jeans down your legs and tossing them off to the side. He’s eye level with your embarrassingly soaked cunt now, eyeing the wet patch on the front of your panties with a smirk. “This wet for me already, baby? And here I thought you were mad at me.” 

“Fuck you, Eddie.” 

“We’ll do that later. But right now is all about you.” 

“What are you gonna do?” It’s more of a rhetorical question than anything else—you both know what he’s about to do. 

He just slides your underwear off and tucks them into the pocket of his jacket, mumbling something about keeping them for later before running his thumb along your slick folds. Your breath hitches when he rubs over your clit achingly slow, too slow for your liking. 

“Do something, Eddie, please,” You plead, nudging him in the ribs with your foot. “Don’t be an asshole.” 

That seems to flip a switch in him, because the smirk falls right off his face, replaced with a darker, more serious look. Your first thought is that you’ve angered him. Part of you feels bad, but another part of you wants to see where this might take you. 

However, you’re fully not expecting it when he sinks two fingers into you without warning. 

You let out an involuntary moan at the sudden but very welcome intrusion, bucking your hips up against the knuckles he has buried deep inside you. The cold silver of Eddie’s rings kiss your clit with every perfectly paced thrust of his deft fingers, making you clench around the digits almost instantly as he fingers you expertly, like he’s done this a hundred times over. 

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” He chuckles darkly, reveling in the way you’re beginning to fall apart from just him fucking you with his fingers. “Pussy’s sucking my fingers right in, just the way you like it, huh?” 

“So good, Eddie, so good,” You nod, rocking against his fingers mindlessly. If you’d known he was this good with his hands, you would’ve let him do this last week too. It makes sense though—he’s a guitarist, and guitarists are good with their fingers. You just didn’t know they could be this good. 

“I’ll give you one better, baby, don’t you worry.” Eddie guides your legs over his broad shoulders with the hand that isn’t currently occupied, yanking you closer until your cunt is right in his face. His tongue darts out to wet his lips momentarily before he leans forward, flicking his tongue over your clit once, twice, then a third time. A cry falls from your lips at his actions, an even louder one when he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth. Tendrils of pleasure ripple through your body like arcs of lightning as he sucks on it, and your eyes squeeze shut, heels digging into his shoulder blades as he forges on like it’s his life mission to make you come. 

Your fingers unconsciously thread into Eddie’s messy curls, pulling him deeper against you with such a force that he lets out a growled ‘hmph’ that sends a delicious vibration through your already clenching pussy. 

Your orgasm hits you fast, hard, and unexpected like a sucker punch. One second you’re pleading Eddie to give you more, next thing you know, the rope in the pit of your stomach snaps, sending you spiraling into ecstasy with a cry. 

“There you go, Y/N, you’re okay. You’re good, you’re fine,” Eddie soothes, stroking your knee as you come down from your high. You let go of your grip in his hair, weak hands falling to the cushions on either side of you. “You did so good for me, baby.” 

When you’re finally able to pry your eyes open again, Eddie’s sitting back on his haunches, tossing his hair out of his face with a shake of his head. 

“Am I forgiven now?” He asks innocently, licking your cum off his fingers with a devilish smile. It’s another rhetorical question—he knows he is. 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe?” 

“Fine. You’re off the hook, Munson.” 

“Glad to hear it.” He nods, brushing his hands off on his thighs before bringing himself to his feet. 

From here, you can see that his semi has turned into a full blown boner, straining against his jeans very obviously. You might be petty, but you can’t let him go onstage like that. 

“Sit down, Eddie.” Eddie obliges instantly, eager for any source of relief from his throbbing dick. He switches places with you on the couch like he can’t get there fast enough, watching you reach for his belt buckle with wide eyes. 

But before you can touch him, there’s a pounding at the door behind you, then a rather annoyed voice. 

“Eddie! You in there, dude? It’s eight o’clock, we gotta start the set!” 

Eddie jams the heel of his palms against his forehead, dragging his hands down his face frustratedly. “Yeah, okay! I’ll be right there, Gareth!” 

“Well, this is awkward.” You chime in quietly, rising to your feet. “We should go.” 

“No, no, no, I’ll be quick! So quick, I promise.” He pleads, clasping his hands in a begging motion. “Please, Y/N—baby—I can’t play like this!” 

“Not sure you really have a choice, rockstar,” You smirk, crossing the room to grab your jeans and pulling them back on. “Your fans await.” 

“Oh my god, stop it. Can you please help me out here?” 

You open your mouth to respond, but Gareth’s voice sounds out again. “Dude!!! Come on!” 

“I’m fucking coming, man!” Eddie yells, pulling himself off the couch with a grimace aimed at your smug smile. “I hate you. I hate you so much.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Okay, I don’t. But you’re so fucked afterwards.” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

—

Corroded Coffin plays a pretty good set tonight. Well, as good as it can be when their lead guitarist has a mean case of blue balls. 

You can tell Eddie’s trying hard to focus on the music, but he gets flustered every time he locks eyes with you and remembers your panties burning a hole in his jacket pocket. It doesn’t do his boner any favors either. 

You’re starting to feel aroused again too. Every time his fingers stretch across the strings quickly in a riff, you think about those same fingers pumping in and out of you mere minutes before. Every time his hand tightens around the neck of his guitar, you wonder what it would feel like wrapped around your throat. 

And by the time their set is over, you’re more than ready to jump his bones again. You’re not in charge of closing up the bar tonight, so you’re clocked out and waiting for Eddie at one of the tables in no time. 

Eddie can see you waiting, so he’s eager to pack up as quickly as he can so he can finally get some sweet, sweet relief. Only this time, his bandmates aren’t letting him off the hook so easily. Gareth and Jeff are taking forever arguing about who’s turn it is to load the van, eventually turning to Eddie as the determining vote. He’s not paying an ounce of attention, too occupied in his own unholy thoughts to give a damn about their dilemma. 

“Here, just fucking take the keys,” He shoves his car keys into Jeff’s palm, “And work it out together. Take the van for the night. I don’t care. It’s yours. Don’t crash it. I gotta go.” He doesn’t even wait for their response before he’s bounding across the dingy bar, grabbing your hand and yanking you out the front door. 

“My car’s down this way.” You breathe, matching his brisk pace. He just nods, following you down the deserted street to the only car parked in a block radius. Perfect. Your fingers fumble for your keys, but as soon as you get your car unlocked, you climb in with him pressed right up against your ass. 

Your clothes are stripped off before he swings the car door shut, but he hasn’t managed to get his jeans halfway down his ass yet before you’re straddling him, pushing your mouth against his in a very insistent kiss. Although surprised, he manages to kiss you back with the same energy, even more so when you drag your bare ass against his hard on. His breathing spikes at the sensation that travels its way down to his toes. 

“Wait, wait—I don’t, um, I don’t have a condom this time.” He mumbles against your lips sheepishly, halting your tantalizing movements. 

“What happened to wrap it before you tap it?” You’re half teasing, tugging gently at his bottom lip with your teeth. 

“I forgot.” 

“It’s okay.” You assure him, too focused on needing him inside you to really care. 

Your fingers curl into his hair for the second time tonight, this time pulling his head back against the headrest behind him, angling it sideways to reveal his pale neck. You’ve been wanting to mark it up all night, and now that you’ve got him in your clutches, you don’t hesitate in attaching your lips to the side of his throat, to the corded muscle that flexes every time he swallows. 

Eddie murmurs something unintelligible that turns into a strangled groan at the feeling of you sucking a trail of hickies into his alabaster skin, abandoning his thoughts in favor of letting his eyes flutter shut. It seems like a lifetime until your hand delves into his boxers, taking out his leaking cock. You slide it along your wet heat teasingly, and Eddie whimpers.  

“Holy Ozzy,” He groans, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs as you finally sink down on his cock until he’s entirely buried inside your pussy. You barely give him a second to adjust before you start to bounce up and down on him, gripping the headrest behind him for extra leverage as you ride his cock at an immediately swift pace. “Jesus fucking—you’re gonna, fuck, you’re gonna kill me, Y/N.” 

“Not my goal, but I’ll take it.” You purr, grinding your hips in a circle to accompany your downward motions. 

Eddie thinks you really are trying to send him to an early grave now. With the way your tits bounce right in front of his face and your cunt squeezes his cock in that blissfully familiar way that takes him back to the first time you fucked, he’s surprised he hasn’t busted a nut yet. He’s honestly not really sure how much longer he can last.

Neither of you have the words to describe the bliss you’re in, the only sounds being skin slapping against skin and the wet sounds of your mixed arousals, with the occasional moan or grunt thrown in for good measure. 

Somehow, you think this might be even better than the first time Eddie fucked you. Maybe it’s because you’re both unbelievably horny

But it doesn’t stop there, because Eddie somehow musters the energy to plant his feet on the carpeted floor of the car and slam his hips up into you on your every downward bounce. 

“Eddie, please, please,” You beg, throwing your head back. “Make me come!” 

“Come all over my cock, baby, you can do it,” He huffs out, angling himself so he somehow manages to spear even deeper into you. His cock pushes up against your most sensitive spot with ease, drawing a high pitched cry slash moan slash scream (you’re too fucked out to even understand what noise it was) from the depths of your soul. 

It only takes a few more good thrusts before you’re falling apart for the second time tonight, trembling uncontrollably with the force of your orgasm.

To make matters better (or worse, maybe), Eddie continues to fuck up into you as he chases his own release, clamping his hands on your hips at your attempts to quell this overstimulation. 

“Just—shit, just wanna let you know, I’m like, super close, and I dunno if you want me to, y’know, finish inside you,” Eddie groans, sounding more and more like he’s struggling with every thrust, “So…let me—let me know where you want it.” He cringes right after, internally berating himself for how dumb he sounds right now. 

“Come inside me.” You moan shakily, bracing your hands against his heaving chest. 

“What?” 

“I said, come inside me.” 

Fucking hell, you don’t have to tell him again. He can feel his balls draw up in anticipation, and then he’s gone, spurts of his hot seed painting your clenching walls a milky white. 

“My fucking god, Y/N. You’re unreal,” He breathes, voice muffled from where he’s buried his face against the flushed skin in the space between your boobs. “Christ, you’re so unreal, baby.” 

You sigh dreamily, looping your arms around his neck and pressing your nose to his hair. Despite the whole car reeking of sex and sweat now, his tangled curls still smell very faintly of shampoo. He’s gone soft inside you, and when you lift yourself off him, both Eddie’s cum and yours comes gushing out of your wrecked cunt, dripping onto his jeans. You’re both in a post-sex haze, eyes locked on the sight of the cum leaking out of you. 

“That’s so hot.” He whispers, lips quirking up into an exhausted smile. 

You feel like you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop yourself from settling against Eddie’s side, nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder comfortably. He freezes for a split second, and you’re hit with the sinking feeling that you’ve just made things weird, but he recovers quickly, patting blindly on the seat until he feels the familiar smooth leather of the jacket he’d discarded earlier and situating it over your naked body. His arms wind around you, hands resting on your hip. 

You’re both silent for a long time, neither one of you moving until Eddie reaches out towards the fogged up window next to you, tracing something in the condensation. When he’s done, you see that he’s written the word ‘HI’, and a chuckle bubbles from your lips. He’s still a big dork, even after he’s given you two—no, three—of the best orgasms you’ve had in your life in the short time you’ve known him. Maybe you might like this dork a little more than you originally thought you would. 

“Hi.” You murmur, bumping your cheek against his collarbone. 

“So…I feel like we need to talk about some things.” 

“Can it wait until I can feel my legs again?” 

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” There’s only a short silence. “Would you say this counts as fuck buddies?” 

“Eddie.” You chide, slapping his chest weakly. 

 “Sorry, sorry,” He sucks in a breath through his teeth, making the split second decision to tell you how he really feels. “It’s just—I think I like you, Y/N.” 

“You think?” 

“No, I know I like you. And I know we haven’t talked about this, and I’m entirely aware I could’ve just screwed this whole thing up, but—” 

You’re quick to shut him up with a kiss, sliding your hand along the expanse of his jaw. When you’re satisfied, you pull away, and his eyes flutter open, lips parting in confusion. 

“I like you too, Eddie.” 

“Really? I mean, that’s cool. It’s cool. Everything’s…” 

“Cool?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Come back to my place tonight.” 

“Okay.” 

Eddie inevitably stays the night at your place, and it’s safe to say there isn’t much sleeping being done. Any talk of where you stand as an item could wait until the morning, and as you’re lying naked (again) under the covers with Eddie’s limbs tangled with yours and his nose pressed against your neck, you think everything will turn out just fine. 

[hertzwritings]

Athens Awaits

A/N: I made the unfortunate mistake of watching The Immortals and now I’m literally wet for Theseus. It is what it issss! So I decided to do a one shot (possibly a mini series) with that hunk of a god. Love that for me. I have dived into the lore, so I’ll try to stay as close to that as possible, but with Henry Cavill is my muse, y’know?

Feedback feeds the soul, my loves!

MASTERLIST

HENRY CAVILL + CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Theseus x Royal!reader

Warnings: Language, smut (MINORS DNI), p in v, oral (female recieving), mentions of battle, weapons, blood

Athens awaits

The city around you were abuzz with chatter and the golden buildings shone in the soft, setting sun. One shouldn’t think that there was a looming threat over Nicopolis by the Hyperion army by the way the joy and laughter filled every street.

The few men who had showed up a week ago from Calydon had talked about the army and their strength, all bloodied and heaving chests.

You hid your face further inside the cloak, hoping no one would see you wandering the streets of the lower city quietly, trying to get to the Temple of Athena without being seen.

Not many would react with kindness to the princess.

The temple was empty, only petals from flowers left behind on the tiles. Your bare feet were silent against the cool tiles and you finally let the hood fall from your face, staring up at the statue of Athena. You gently laid down the flowers and a few coins down at her feet and kneeled in front of her, silently praying for the Hyperion Army to go around the city, not through it.

“Princess.” a soft, dark voice rumbled from behind you and you gasped, quickly getting on your feet, pulling your dagger from your waistband and stood, ready to fight, looking at the man in front of you.

He had a slanted smile, an eyebrow quirked and hands up, clearly showing he wasn’t here to fight. He was shirtless.

“I’m not here to fight you, princess.” You let your dagger fall. “Theseus.” You said as he stepped into the soft light and you finally recognized his face as the man, who’d been at court, warning your father of the army in the horizon. “What are you doing here?” He stepped closer to you, staring up at Athena as well. He smelled like sunlight.

“Same as you, I suppose.” He glanced at you. “Praying. Waiting.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in the Gods.” You said softly. He smiled at you.

“I don’t. But my mother did.” You nodded, understanding the hidden pain in his voice.

“Mine too.”

You stood in silence for a while, looking at the statue in front of you, the sun setting rapidly.

“You should be back up there, protected.” He whispered to you. You shrugged, the cloak sliding off of your shoulders, pooling at your feet.

“I should. I shouldn’t. My destiny is mine, not to be handled by bodyguards and swords.” You retorted. He chuckled and his eyes fell on your shoulders and the thin string resting there, holding your dress up and together. He turned to you fully.

“Does your father know you’re here?” He asked in a low voice, stepping even closer to you. You raised your eyebrow.

“He doesn’t need to know everything I do.” You knew you were playing with fire, but Theseus was intoxicating, like honey and sunlight, and his eyes were the colour of the far off sea.

“Really?” He asked. He was so close, tantalisingly so, and you felt your nipples stiffen, as his hand slid over your shoulder. You nodded.

“Yes.” You could feel his breath on your face, calloused fingers rough against your skin. He chuckled and dipped his head, forehead against yours.

“Does your father know that you’re close with a soldier, a faithless one at that?” He whispered. You smiled softly, your hands finding purpose on his bare back, tracing the faint scars.

“Faithless. Depends on the faith, wouldn’t you say?” you asked, smiling at him.

“Which faith do you think me?” his fingers hooked the strings on your shoulders, slowly letting them fall from you, the fabric barely resting on the swell of your breasts.

“You tell me.” You retorted, your fingers swiftly undoing the strings on the back of his pants, loosening them.

“I believe my faith is in you, Y/N.” He finally spoke your name, much more like a prayer of old - whispered gently, almost scared, in the darkness and shroud of the Gods of old. You smiled at him, finally heaving a breath big enough for the dress to finally drop from your shoulders. Your chest exposed to him, his fingertips as gentle as the wind, brushed over your hardened nipples, and you sighed a breath of relief and lust. His breath hitched at the sight of you.

“Is that so?” Your fingers found his curls, tugging them gently, pulling him closer to you.

“It is.” His lips brushed against yours as he spoke, sending tremors down your body with anticipation.

He didn’t miss it. “Can I kiss you?” His voice was barely a whisper, his warm, rough hand now on the small of your back, digging into your skin with concealed lust. You simply nodded.

He didn’t waste a second, lips harsh with desperation on yours. He was soft, endlessly careful, but you felt the restraint he put on himself. You moaned against his lips, desperate for more, anything, as his lips danced over yours, while your fingers tugged at his hair. You bit his lip, earning you a growl from him as a warning.

“Don’t.” He whispered against your lips.

“Why?” You whispered back, fingers nimbly removing the strings on his pants.

“I wouldn’t know how to stop.” he bit your lip, drawing a moan from you. “Then don’t.” you simply replied.

And he followed orders.

With a groan, he wrapped you in his arms, stepping out of his pants and grabbing you by the waist and pushed you gently against the wall of the temple, his tongue against yours and lips harsh with desire.

His fingers pushed the remaining dress down, freeing you completely and he was quicker than an arrow with his fingers. They were everywhere, your moans echoing in the temple as they dipped in your folds. He chuckled darkly as you rolled your hips against him, desperate for friction and his fingers deeper in you.

You moaned against his lips, his tongue darting out to meet yours in a passionate wrestle - he pumped his fingers slowly, dragging against your walls and curled his fingers up, hitting your g-spot and you gasped against his lips as hot flames of pleasure licked your skin, the coil in your stomach tightening. He chuckled a little against your lips, his fingers moving faster and faster. You felt his hard cock against your thigh, warm velvet, and you wanted to be ruined by him.

As he picked up his pace, you mewled against him - he stilled his movements, removing his lips from yours and slowly removed his fingers before getting on his knees, his lips kissing every inch of exposed skin as he went down, and right before his lips reached your peak, he sent you a smile, that was sinful, promising and loving all at once.

He kissed your wet folds, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe along you - you gasped, your knees buckled and his hands went to your hips to steady you as his tongue darted out to your clit, languidly eating you out.

When his tongue dipped inside of you, you lost control. The orgasm overtook you, pleasure coming in waves as he ate you out through your orgasm, lapping up everything you gave him. Your body was shaking and if he didn’t have his hands on you, you’d be on the floor.

When you finally came out of your reverie, he gently pulled you down to him, kissing him as he laid on top of you. You could taste yourself on his lips.

“What do you want?” He asked against your lips. Your legs were spread, he was resting between your legs, his cock twitching against your inner thigh.

“You.” You whispered against him, rolling your hips to bring him in - he smiled softly and lined himself up, his hard tip against your slick folds and stilled, looking you in your eyes.

You looked back at him, a still sea behind his eyes as he pushed inside of you, sheathing himself in your heat and groaned as he bottomed out, eyes still on yours. He was shaking as he held himself back, allowing you to adjust to him.

You rolled your hips experimentally and he moaned, a sound you’d never forget - you wanted to be ruined by this man, you’d thank him for murdering you slowly. He couldn’t hold back anymore, his lips slamming against yours and he started pistoning in and out of you with a speed not known to man. You moaned his name and prayers fell over your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips and his hand found your breast, grabbing it harshly as he rutted in you.

The flames of pleasure were licking your skin again, your pussy pulsing around him, forcing him deeper and he moaned a quiet fuck under his breath. The sounds of your wetness against his hard cock filled the temple and echoed around the walls, creating a sinful song around you mixed with your stuttering moans. His speed was stuttering, clearly trying to hold back - you found his lips, kissing him desperately.

“Please…” You whispered against him, your own orgasm on the brink - you were teetering on the edge, almost falling off it and he kissed you back, tongue sliding against yours, hand in your hair.

“With me.” He said, picking up the pace and let his cock fill you completely, head hitting your cervix and you bucked under him, finally falling freely into pleasure.

You heard him roar through the haze of your pleasure, and felt him twitch in you, filling you with his hot seed before slowly stilling.

He was still on top of you, kissing your lips, cheek and throat, soft lips against heated skin. Your fingers were wrapped in his hair and you felt his spend slowly trickle out from you.

He cleared his throat before kissing you longingly again and slid out of you.

He handed you your dress and you slowly got to your feet to put it on.

He let his hand cup your cheek, kissing you softer than a butterfly’s wings and leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

“I believe I should talk to your father.” He said with a soft smile. You hummed.

“Why?” He kissed you again and wrapped your hands in his, pulling away slightly.

“I need to convince him that you can marry a common soldier.” You blushed at his words.

“You’re anything but common, Theseus.”

“Only because I know you.”

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

TAGLIST: @acaceta @summersong69 @luclittlepond @keiva1000

@a-skov @thatonechickhere @summersong69 @themanfromu

@spookyboogyuniverse

[geminixevans-stan]

Solve the Riddle - Part 1

Pairing: Retired Pornstar!Ari Levinson x Black!Reader

Roller Rink AU

Words: 2.4k+

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, a smidge of mutual pining, Ari’s thick Boston accent (Definitely a warning) Pretty tame chapter, talks of previous death.

A/N: Welcome to the first installment of the Roller Rink AU! This feels so fun to write and since this chapter is pretty tame, the filthy fun should make it in the second part! Thanks again to @syntheticavenger and @olyvoyl for putting up with me! I hope everyone enjoys it! Like, Comment, & Reblog! ♥ Divider by @firefly-graphics

Au MasterList

I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P

“Gotta hand it to ya Levinson, didn’t think you would back to this old dump,” Nick said over his shoulder to the tall, beefy man following him. His crystal blues scanned the run-down rink, wondering how it got so bad. Had his father not given it to Nick, it would have been in better shape. Ari wasn’t in the right mind to take it at the time but as he got older, he was looking for something with more responsibility and he knew just where to find it.

On the day of his father’s funeral, he vowed to never step foot in the Boston town. There was nothing left here for him and he knew that he couldn’t spend another second without the man he looked up to. With a hefty inheritance, Los Angeles would be his home and the city of Boston would be just a faint memory. As he looked around the spacious area, he could see so much that needed to be changed and he had the money to do it in no time.

Following behind Nick, he paid attention to the frail old man, noticing that he had changed since the last time he had seen him. “Well, what can I say, Nick, time to pick up where my old man left off. Besides, you look like you’re well on your deathbed,” he joked letting the smirk pull at his lips.

Nick couldn’t do anything but smile at the man who looked more and more like his best friend every day, “Just a reincarnation of your old man, I tell you that. Could make the most fucked up jokes,” they both stopped at the board with all sets of keys on the hooks, “Every key is labeled and I’m sure you still remember how things go. You take care of this place, lord knows I didn’t,” he says giving the rink one last look.

For what it was worth, Nick felt he did everything he could. As his health was getting worse, he became surly and hard to deal with. He would sometimes take it out on the sweetest girls he ever laid eyes on and that was one last thing that he had to inform Ari about. “We have two employees. Sweetest girls you’ll ever meet, be easy on em. I wasn’t the best man to get along with.”

“What are their names if you don’t mind me asking. Would like to let them know what they’re walking into,” Ari knew the girls had to be special if grumpy old Nick vouched for them.

“Well you know Sarah, that’s Sam’s sister. He left some years back. Then there’s Miss Patti’s grandchild,” he gives your name, “Those two are what keep the rink afloat. Their information is on the desk as soon as you walk in,” he says, pointing to the door on their right. Ari could feel the pride fill in his chest, knowing that he was fully back to the home he knew. Los Angeles treated him well, his job would have been frowned upon if others here knew. He looked over at Nick giving him an appreciative pat on the back.

“You have my word and I will treat them like princesses,” his smile never wavering. “Thank you, Nick. For everything. If you ever need anything I’m never too far away.”

Nick’s face softens for a bit going back to his normal look, “Yeah yeah. Don’t get sappy on me now Levinson. You take care and don’t be afraid to dial me,” with that, he bid his farewell and walked out the glass double doors.

Ari walked to the door he would always walk through as a child. Thinking he would see his dad sitting in the same chair for years to only be met with emptiness. It was bittersweet, knowing that this place was all his, and couldn’t even see the proud look on his father’s face. He sat slowly down in the seat, feeling all the memories rush in at once. He could see the office didn’t change a bit, save for the updated computer that Nick probably had no hand in buying.

Leaning back in the seat, he looked at every wall and knew that every nook and cranny needed a change. He wanted this place to be just how his old man left it and put his own flair to it. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed the one person he knew could bring his ideas to life and be the life of the party.

Placing the phone to his ear, he waiting for the other line to pick up, “Mickey! Ready to say goodbye to Greece or what?”

Your two off days sped by quicker than you imagined you parked your car in your same spot at the rink. Taking out your bag and slinging your skates over your shoulder, you make it to the front side. Stopping dead in your tracks, you make sure that you are at the same skating rink that you called home for four years. The front was now brand new and the neon sign was switched out for a better-looking one.

The glass doors were looking better than before and the clear material was now tinted. Whatever new management took over had got to work quicker than you thought. You had to admit that you were liking the outside changes so far and were ready to head in when you heard a familiar voice calling you from behind. Sarah had the same confused but impressed look on her face as you did, her steps stopping her next to you.

“This can’t be the same place. It just can’t!” she looks over you as you give a slight nod, “Do you know who Nick gave the rink to?” she asks taking another look at the front.

You both stare at every part of the front of the rink, taking in the new colors. They weren’t bad at all. Actually, it was like a breath of fresh air from the previous color they had. “All I got was the new management email. No name or anything. Don’t know why they wouldn’t leave a name,” of course you thought it was strange but with renovations like this, they couldn’t be all that bad.

With a nudge to Sarah’s shoulder, you pointed to the direction of the door as you began to walk up the stairs, fishing out your keys to open up the door. It was still a little early in the morning since the rink opens at noon and you nor Sarah had no idea what would meet you two beyond the doors.

As you twist the key, the door wouldn’t budge. You try again and the door doesn’t give. It dawned on you that new doors meant new locks and it looked like you two would have to wait for either the new owner to get here or bang on the doors. The choice was made for you, hearing the faint sound of the door being unlocked. You both take a step back, flowing brown locks peeking first and the most illuminated blue eyes you have ever seen. They dart from you to Sarah and then back at you.

The door opened wider, a very tall bearded man showing all of himself. He plastered a wide smile on his face, “You must be the girls Nick never shuts up about?” he asks as you furrow your brow a bit. He must have been talking about another Nick because the Nick you knew would always be so grumpy and didn’t like being bothered. You were captivated by this man and it hadn’t been two minutes yet. The way his hair fell perfectly, broad shoulders, the right about of hair covering his arms. You were in heaven and you want him to be your salvation.

Sarah looked over at you giving a small chuckle, looking back at Ari, “That’d be us! I’m Sarah and this…” her voice dying out, giving you the opportunity to say your name. Ari gave you a concerned look, trying to keep his own hormones at bay. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were the second he opened the door. His old self was raging and what he wouldn’t do to have over his desk right now.

You were unlike any girl in L.A. Hell, in his profession all he saw was women and you were by far the best in his eyes. He hasn’t even gotten your name yet and he already wanted to make you crumble. Sarah slapped your arm, giving you the signal that you were definitely zoning out. Snapping out your trance you gave your name, holding on to the strap of your bag tightly. Ari said your name in his head, thinking of how he would say it while he took you a part in the filthiest of ways.

He had to focus and get through with the introductions. If the first time meeting was like this, it was sure to be difficult staying away from you in that way. Straightening his posture he shook Sarah’s hand first and then yours, even your skin was soft. Yeah, he was gonna be a goner, and the way you were looking at him, innocent as ever was going to be his downfall. “It’s nice to meet you ladies. Name’s Ari Levinson. You can say I’m just taking back the family’s business,” he beams at the two of you. “I used to go to school with Sam,” he looks over to Sarah I feel like an old man saying that.”

“Well, you sure don’t look like it,” you mutter. But you said it loud of enough for both Sarah and Ari to hear. Sarah gives you the wide eyes and Ari gives a low chuckle that makes his chest shake. “I said that out loud didn’t I?” you groaned loudly, “It’s okay fire me,” hanging your head down in shame.

Within a few seconds, Ari erupted with laughter slapping his chest in unison, “I’m not firing you because you told me I look young, sweethaht. I should give you a raise. Matter of fact let’s get inside and talk some business. I bet you’re wondering if the inside looks as good as the outside?” he questions, looking at the both of you.

Both you and Sarah gave a curt nod, watching Ari step aside to let you two step inside first before closing the door behind him. Which became the worst idea ever. If your front was beautiful, he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the plumpest part of you. He was an ass man and you were doing it for him.

Down boy..

There before you was a rink that looked one hundred times better than the old one. You and Sarah both stood stuck in awe at how everything had changed. “H-how… How did you change everything so fast?” you ask looking over at Ari.

“With the right amount of money, anything is possible sweethaht,” his accent… it sounded so familiar. But this was Boston he sounded just like any old Bostonian man. For a second he sounded like… No chance in hell. His accent is just thick is all. His arms did match though. The mystery man had hairy arms like that too.

Stop it… Not every man with hairy arms or a strong Boston Accent is him.

Your obsession with the man whose orgasms became your own was becoming a little unhealthy. Here was someone that you could put a face too and he was the most handsome man you had ever met. You had to admit that Ari was like a masterpiece to be looked at. His smile was infectious and that hair. The prettiest strands you ever saw. You wanted to know what it would be like to tug on it just one good time. Stroke his scalp while his face is deep between your-

“Earth to weirdo! Mr. Levinson is talking to you!” Sarah bellowed out. Dammit, you zoned out again. This man was going to be the death of you and in some way, you were ready to die if it meant he was waiting on the other end of eternity.

“You both can call me Ari. No need to be formal here. But yes sweethaht, just wondering if you’re ready to head back so we can discuss some things?” That accent again.

Just breathe, you’re acting like a teenager again.

You did a quick nod as Ari lead to way. Sarah did a quick nudge, whispering in your ear, “wanna napkin for that drool on your lip?” she smirked as you placed your fingers to the corners and bottom of your lip. Sarah let out a small giggle, before following the steady path to the office. Before the whole group could make it there, the double doors opened, making everyone turn their heads.

Ari’s face lit up, showing his perfect smile once more. “Well look what Greece blew in. I thought you’d nevah get here ya meatball,” he bellowed out at the man coming closer to everyone. You looked over at Sarah who looks simply star-struck. Basically how you looked earlier.

You brought the tip of your finger to her bottom lip, pushing it back up, “Want a napkin for that drool?” you say mockingly. She shot you a glare that made you stifle a giggle. The man in question made it to a smiling Ari, you holding in a laugh, and Sarah trying to keep her composure.

He gave a friendly smile to everyone, looking over at Ari, “Would have been here earlier but had to see the sights first.”

Ari chuckled, bringing in the man into a warm bear hug. You wondered how those arms would feel around your…

Focus!

“Ladies meet Mickey Henry. He’s gonna grace us with his DJ skills here at the rink,” Ari says patting Mickey on the back.

“He’s working here?!” Sarah questions as everyone snaps their heads towards her. It took everything in you to keep together and Ari could see you, giving you a knowing look.

Mickey looked over at Sarah, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, “Yeah and it should be fun if I get to look at you all day.” Oh, he was gonna be dangerous. You take a look at Sarah and if you didn’t know any better, her thighs were lightly pressing together. She was already hooked and had so much to say about you.

“Ignore him, Sarah, he’s a natural flirt. Jeez punk let her breathe first,” Ari says to Mickey before letting him go. “Okay! So who’s ready for shots and business?”

This was definitely new management…

[aot-agere]

Baby Mikasa in the cadet corps (age regression, vent regression, age regression as a coping mechanism)

I’m calling Historia Christa in this because it takes place before Utgard castle. Also, a little bit of Yumihisu fluff :P

DNI if you sexualize regression, think it’s a k!nk, or if you’re just going to hate on this.

Mikasa had been training for months now without anyone else learning about how she secretly regressed in age to that of a baby. It actually hadn’t happened yet since they had joined the cadets, which she was glad about.

One night, however, Mikasa awoke from a nightmare. It was one about the day she had gone to live with Eren, though her head was feeling fuzzy and she already couldn’t remember what had happened or where she was… that was a sign that her mind was regressing.

Though she didn’t know what happened, she did know one thing: it had been scary. Her eyes filled with tears immediately, and she covered her mouth to avoid crying out loudly. Her lungs burned.

She wanted to be with Eren. He always made her feel better when she was small like this. He would give her hugs and reassure her and let her know that he would protect her.

Her wide eyes searched the darkness for something to hold onto. The moon was new that night. She was afraid there was someone hiding in the shadows.

Mikasa drew her knees up to her chest and pulled her scarf over her mouth and nose. It no longer smelled like Eren, but the soft fabric was comforting enough. She let out a quiet sob, and squeezed her eyes shut.

“M’kasa…?” Sasha mumbled from where she lie next to her. “You okay?”

Mikasa was startled. How long had she been there? Had they always shared a bunk? Her mind was mixed up, that was for sure. She just closed her stinging eyes and covered her ears.

When the girl didn’t answer, Sasha sat up and blinked at her. “What’s wrong?”

Mikasa tried to talk, tried to tell her she was fine, but the words got stuck in her throat. The only noise she could make was a quiet whimper. Her lip trembled and more tears spilled down her face. Her chest heaved, but she kept quiet.

“Oh no, uh… what should I do?” Sasha’s brow furrowed. Mikasa was the quiet type, and she had never cried in front of any of the other cadets. “Do you… want a hug?” The brunette leaned into Mikasa’s field of vision, careful not to scare her.

Mikasa was thoughtful for a moment. Sasha isn’t Eren… She knew it wouldn’t be quite as comforting, but when there was another noise from across the room, Mikasa almost jumped into Sasha’s open arms. She was terrified.

“It’s okay, Mikasa�� who’s there?” Sasha whispered, gently rubbing her back.

An oil lamp glowed to life across the way. It illuminated the splintery wooden bunks with a warm glow, bringing everything out of the shadows. Mikasa felt immediately at ease.

“What’s wrong?” Christa asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Ymir was also awake, head rested on her girlfriend’s shoulder, but she didn’t say anything.

“I don’t quite know, but something’s… different about Mikasa.” Sasha replied with an awkward laugh. “Maybe she had a nightmare?”

Mikasa heard them all talking about her, but couldn’t find it within herself to care. As soon as she was wrapped in a warm hug, her mind quieted. Her stinging eyes closed restfully instead of fearfully, and she was no longer trembling.

“…I don’t see why that’s our problem. What is she, a baby?” Ymir’s voice broke through Mikasa’s clouded mind.

Suddenly embarrassed, Mikasa frowned and buried her face in her scarf, eyes swimming with fresh tears. She’s right… but at that moment, she felt like her whole world depended on staying safe and cozy in Sasha’s arms.

“That was rude Ymir!” Christa scolded. “Its perfectly normal for her to be messed up from all this— she lost her home after the wall fell.” The girl reminded them.

Mikasa didn’t even have time to feel upset about the ‘messed up’ remark. At the mention of the wall, bad memories began flooding Mikasa’s mind. This time she couldn’t stop herself from crying big hiccuping sobs, eyes squeezed shut again, quickly beginning to hyperventilate.

“Woah, woah, it’s okay, Mikasa, I’m here.” Sasha rocked her gently, worry evident on her face. “Poor thing… must’ve been a scary dream, huh?” She murmured.

At the gentle words and actions, Mikasa felt herself slipping more. She clung tightly to Sasha and focused on controlling her breaths.

“Here, let me help.” Christa stood from her bed, flinching when her bare feet stepped on the cold floor. She crossed the way and sat on Mikasa’s bed beside the pair.

Mikasa looked at her with wide, tearful eyes. Ymir scoffed, but didn’t interrupt.

“Let’s see… how do we cheer up a sad Mikasa?” Christa said in a babying sort of voice. She offered her hands to Mikasa; the former grabbed onto her fingers and squeezed. “Aw, what a big strong girl!” She praised. Mikasa gave a shy smile, though it was hidden by her scarf.

Sasha and Ymir expected Mikasa to glare at Christa or ask her to stop babying her, but instead she seemed very receptive. Sasha shrugged, and Ymir lie back down, curiously watching the three.

“Now, let’s think.” Christa said. “What kind of things does Mikasa like?”

Mikasa felt pleased that her friends were going out of their way to make her feel better.

Sasha spoke up in a hushed voice. “Mikasa likes Eren, but other than that—“

“Eh-reh?” Came Mikasa’s hesitant first word. She lit up with hope.

“Wow, great job, Mikasa!” Christa praised with a big smile, clasping Mikasa’s hands between her own. “But we can’t exactly go get him,” she whispered to Sasha.

“Ereh, Ereh, Ereh…” Mikasa mumbled to herself, no longer paying attention to the conversation. She played with Christa’s fingers instead.

“Yknow, we could just sneak out and meet up with them— I know she’s acting happier now, but this seems kinda serious… we really should find a way to reach Eren.” Sasha replied, smoothing Mikasa’s hair with a gentle hand.

Christa seemed appalled. “You can just do that?”

“Yeah, I sneak out to see Connie all the time, it’s no big deal.” Sasha nodded. “Now come on, we gotta go before we wake the whole cabin up.”

It was quite the hassle to quietly put on each of their slippers— Mikasa couldn’t remember where she’d left hers, and needed help putting them on.

Then came the actual sneaking out part. “Come on, Mikasa,” Sasha stood in front of the other girl with her hands outstretched. When Mikasa stood, she felt wobbly and unbalanced. It was a good thing Sasha was there to hook their elbows together and help her walk across the squeaky wooden floor. It was difficult because of how cramped the cabin was, but they managed.

“We’ll be right back.” Christa said, giving Ymir a kiss on the forehead before following behind Sasha and Mikasa.

The cool air was fresh and smelled of rain. Mikasa giggled, enjoying the tickly feeling of a breeze in her hair.

Sasha just looked at her, a soft smile on her face. She had never seen Mikasa smile before, but now the stoic girl was beaming up at the starry sky. It made her glad to know that Mikasa was still capable of feeling happy, even after all that she’d gone though.

“Ugh, everything looks different in the dark…” Christa complained, gazing blearily at her surroundings.

“This way.” Sasha directed the group to the boys’ cabin.

When they reached the building, Sasha had no hesitation in opening the door. “Wait here,” she whispered, and handed Mikasa off to Christa, who wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her secure.

“Connie!” Sasha said when she stepped inside. “Connie, wake up!”

The short boy startled awake. He hated having the bed closest to the door; he was always woken up in the middle of the night. “Ugh, we’ve gotta get up early tomorrow…” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry— but can you go get Eren and Armin? Mikasa needs to talk to them.” Sasha said apologetically, though she didn’t think a lot of talking would be happening on Mikasa’s end.

“Mhm, whatever…” Connie stretched and yawned, then stood up and stumbled deeper into the dark cabin. After a hushed conversation, a very sleepy Eren and Armin appeared alongside him. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“Yep! Thanks Connie!” Sasha gave him a quick hug, then lead the other two boys outside.

“What do you need?” Eren asked as they stepped out, though he knew immediately what was up as soon as he saw Mikasa, who was sat on the steps being entertained by a game of peek-a-boo.

“Mikasa! Are you alright?” He fretted. He knew that she usually regressed after having a bad bout of flashbacks, so he was immediately worried.

“Ereh!” Mikasa smiled widely and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was put at ease knowing she wasn’t feeling scared or sad.

“Aw, did you have fun playing with Christa?” He asked when she released him from the hug.

“Mhm!” Mikasa nodded quickly, warming Christa’s heart— she truly loved taking care of children, and Mikasa’s current state gave her that same maternal feeling.

Eren kept talking to Mikasa while Armin spoke with Sasha and Christa.

“I don’t know what’s going on, she just woke up like this— is everything alright?” Sasha asked, concern laced in her voice.

“She’s fine, it’s harmless as long as she’s got someone to watch over her— I’m glad you two were the ones who woke up, you did a great job! Usually when me and Eren have to babysit, whatever triggered her ends up upsetting Eren, and it’s just not a good time…” Armin smiled awkwardly.

“Right, but… why did this happen? Is she sick?” Christa asked.

“No, not at all!” Armin looked to where Mikasa and Eren sat, playing with Mikasa’s scarf. He lowered his voice. “She’s gone through a lot of horrible things in her life, even before Trost… she was really young when it happened, so whenever she has bad memories or nightmares, it’s like she becomes a scared little kid again… usually we can cheer her up, and she’s like this.” he gestured to where Mikasa now lie in Eren’s arms, falling asleep to his humming and rocking.

“Huh, I never knew…” Sasha said. “I’ll be sure to take care of her again if she ever wakes up from another nightmare!”

“Wake me up, too! I wanna help!” Christa said with a smile.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Armin asked. “She’s very well behaved, but if you ever need help…”

“Right, right… what do you mean well behaved, though?”

“Oh,” Armin chuckled. “Uh, well, Eren also regresses occasionally… let’s just say he’s kind of a pain to take care of.”

Eren sighed. “I know you’re talking about me.”

“We should probably get back to bed…” Christa interrupted.

Eren nodded. “Mikasa, it’s time to sleep now. Thank you for visiting me!” He said in a loving, gentle voice.

“Mhm! Ni’-ni’, Ereh.” She have him one more big hug, then let herself be picked up by Sasha and Christa.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Sasha said to the boys.

“Can you wave bye-bye, Mikasa?” Christa said with a smile.

Mikasa obliged, and the other four said their goodbyes.

Later that night, Mikasa lie in her bed staring up at the upper bunk above her. It was nice to see Eren, but Sasha and Christa are good too… she thought as she drifted off into sleep.

A/N: this is my first time publishing an Age regression fanfic, please be nice! Also, my requests are open, so if you like aot and have agere headcanons for it, feel free to lmk and I can write a little something for you!

[pearlstarsecret]

I'm 21. She/her. Bisexual. 🏳️‍🌈. Lover girl. Virgin </3. Mostly a sub. 5’2/159cm. l like it gross :) I don't tag individual posts but general warning on my blog for fauxcest, (mostly soft) cnc, age play-ish. New to this side of tumblr, still figuring things out. ❣️

Minors DO NOT interact. Misogynists DO NOT interact and kys instead.

I probably won't make my own posts on here but feel free to follow :) I’m happy to make mutuals, both as friends or something else 🫶🏼. Also happy to receive pervy (or just nice lol) asks especially from older guys 🩷

I don’t reply to dms if you don’t even follow me or you aren’t respectful. (If you’re messaging from a sideblog just lmk.)

[sageinacage]

Why I am leaving this blog

This is the truth as of why I'm abandoning my tumblr, @/sageinacage.

CW: swearing/harsher language; mentions of breaking boundaries, sexualization, bondage, non-con/tickle torture, kinks, toxicity, overall rly uncomfortable topics

TLDR at the bottom.

Before I start, I want to say that I’m not talking about everyone in this community. Not everyone is like this, but still a lot of people are, and unfortunately the negatives are louder than the positives.

Having this blog was quite an adventure. It definitely had its ups and downs, but I was quick to notice that it had a majority of downs instead of ups. As of now, I'm dreading being on this page.

I don't feel comfortable here anymore and it's incredibly hard for me to feel any sense of safety in this community, and I honestly feel personally ashamed to be in the MCYT tickle community with the bullshit me and others have seen and experienced.

People go around on anonymous and practically harass creators, I've seen so many rude anons get sent to myself, my friends, and people on my dash. People are also breaking CC's boundaries left and right, and no one will listen to anyone when it's spoken up about. I remember making a post stating that if you send anon hate then DNI, and I lost 4 followers. So disappointing. Actually after I took a screenshot of my boundary/trigger list and posted it, someone sent me an ask and did EXACTLY what was listed in my triggers. It went fully against my boundaries, and it caused me to feel scared whenever I get a notification in my inbox, because I’m scared that somebody is trying to purposely trigger me again; and I shouldn’t have to be on Tumblr with such paranoia as I’m experiencing.

Going onto the topic of the more weird and uncomfortable side of the community, I also remember I made a post a while ago saying "if you support putting minors in heavy bondage, then unfollow," and I lost 5+ followers. To put it bluntly, that’s fucking disgusting. For those people to admit for putting minors in a borderline NSFW situation, since heavy bondage is quite literally something that only happens in the kink world and there’s nothing wholesome or cute about it, and for them to admit to doing it, is fucking weird. Though, I’m thankful those people got off my blog.

I have literally seen someone post art of c!Ranboo in heavy restraints and it didn’t even look remotely fun or consensual. It was pictured, or at least my friends and I interpreted it, that he was being tickle tortured and it was non-con. Though, it’s to be expected when the art is a dark-lit room with an intense tickle machine with heavy bondage, with a blindfold and what looks he is genuinely struggling. What made me even more uncomfortable is that an adult drew it. Another person wrote a fic of c!Ranboo in a lot of bondage with the sign “tickle toy” attached to him. That’s fucking weird. That’s practically something that never gets condoned in a strictly SFW sense. The sad part is that others and I have seen a lot of this happening around.

I was actually informed that an artist the other day on another MCYT tickle server drew literal non-con tickle art of Technoblade (/srs). I was revolted. The worst part is, some people didn't even have an issue with it and reacted to the image with heart emojis. For someone to draw non-con in a completely SFW server filled with a bunch of minors is creepy and weird. Non-con isn't a fun thing, and so many people, including me, have horrible experiences related to it; and for someone to turn it into a "heehee fun tickle" situation is fucked up. For someone to even fantasize non-con as a tickle fantasy just makes me feel sick. There are a few fics like this I've seen as well, unfortunately.

Related to non-con things, I've actually gotten a request before asking me to write Schlatt literally tickle torturing Tubbo, and multiple asks that are similar to that; even when on my request rules it stated not to ask for things related to that. Anything with the word "torture" in it is not consensual, especially in the context it was in. I’ve probably had to delete around 5–8 asks in total from my inbox that were related to non-con or torturous things, even after I already stated in my rules I do not write that stuff.

Another thing I've seen is romantic-esque things written with CCs and then the creator slaps a "/p" onto it, and all of a sudden it's okay? Ranboo has even stated in a stream that he is uncomfortable with his IRL self being written/drawn cuddling his friends, and I see so many fics and concepts of IRL Ranboo cuddling in some way (which I've spoken out about before, but again, no one listened).

Moving on, I've probably met the most toxic people in this community than any others I've been apart of- and I've been apart of a lot, I've been on Tumblr on different blogs since I was 11. For some reason, so many people love to guilt trip here (both my friends and I have noticed and experienced a bunch of people doing it in this community), and the people who get called out for it avoid apologizing like the plague. A person in this community made me and a few others literally scared to say no and scared to advocate for our boundaries, because of how much we got guilt tripped. And no, no one received an apology. But still, people DEFENDED this person, even though me and other people spoke out and explained how this person hurt us. That’s so fucking upsetting. I automatically don’t feel safe in a community where people willingly associate with a literal manipulator and someone who hurt probably over 10 people in total (/srs).

Another thing I've noticed is that so many people seem entitled to something. For example, when I got practically harassed by anons for my discomforts/triggers, basically trying to squeeze out reasoning. No one needs to explain their boundaries/discomforts to you, and this community doesn't understand that from what I've experienced; after being harassed by multiple people on anonymous multiple times, all of which were because of personal reasons I was not obligated to share. No one should be able to say that they got harassed by people on anon for their OWN BOUNDARIES. ON 3 DIFFERENT OCCASIONS AS WELL.

Long story short, I can’t help my triggers. Each of my triggers has developed from trauma I’ve gone through or a bad experience, and I shouldn’t even have to defend myself for my triggers/discomforts if people were respectful and weren’t so fucking entitled for an explanation. So many people in this community can’t mind their own business, and I unfortunately had to learn that the hard way.

I've also seen people project onto IRL CCs. Those are real and breathing people. I understand doing it for comfort, but, the CCs have a literal character that people can project onto, but for some reason, people have to push their things onto real life people. I’ve seen someone headcannon IRL Tommy as trans. That's like the same as your friend "headcannoning" you, a real person, as a different sexuality that isn't what you identify with, and one you may not even be OK with being seen as, and without knowing if you're comfortable with it or not. It's weird.

There are more points I could bring up and more specific things I could state, but I think you got the gist of why I'm leaving. I don't feel comfortable being a member in a community which a lot of its members condone in this stuff.

This is the reason why I'm only active in the MCYT tickle community on Discord, because my server, "Mcytickles," actually respects CCs boundaries and is truly an SFW server, and people are respectful towards each other. It's the only safe space I have in this community anymore, so please do not join it if you exhibit any of these things on this post.

No, I will not be coming back, so please do not try to convince me to stay. I’ve been wanting to leave for about a month now, so this isn’t some impulsive decision. I’ve been in the MCYT tickle community since April, and these problems have always existed but have just gotten worse and more extreme, so I’m leaving for my own mental health and to protect myself from further harm than what I’ve already received.

TLDR: I am leaving this blog and the MCYT tickle community on Tumblr due to the many boundary breaking and unacceptable behaviors I've seen be exhibited, and it makes me not feel safe and comfortable to be here anymore.

I want to thank my mutuals, though. You were all awesome and such kind and loving people, and I’m happy to be your guys’ mutual. I want to thank those who were always so nice to me and hyping up my work, and those who were respectful to everyone and advocated for boundaries. Thank you so much for everything, moots <3 (/gen)

[childishfluff]

Mister Nook- Little!Tommy/CG!Awesamdude (DSMP Agere)

Summary: 

When Tommy gets himself into trouble while regressed, and Sam has to be stern with him for the first time ever, and the new caregiver finds out some of the ways Tommy's past caretakers have affected him.

But everything turns out fine, because Mister Nook knows just how to cheer him up and exactly what to say to help him feel better. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age regression, dni if you're nsfw/abdl/ageplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: Okay so I wanted to write something cute bc the familial dynamic here?? is so?? cute?? anyways- also, here, tommy deals with anxiety/has a sort of panic attack, sorry I'm projecting onto c!tommy and no one can stop me. It's also really fluffy near the end, but I wanted to put the appropriate warnings. Warnings: Talk of slightly abusive past-cgs (only mentioned/you can see the after effects of it), little breaking down/having a short panic attack but Sam helps him through it, attempting to hide fidgeting (idk if that needs a warning?), and Tommy thinking badly about himself.

--

His tear-filled eyes were casted down, staring at his own feet as he switched his weight between them, waiting to be yelled at by the adult man in front of him. He held his hands behind his back, attempting to hide the fact that he was fidgeting.

"You could've hurt yourself, Tommy," Sam spoke softly, crouching down to meet his height. "I need you to stick with me, and not climb anything, I don't know how many times I have to tell you." He sounded disappointed, but not quite mad. Tommy waited, expecting more scolding or punishment.

He had regressed while on a trip for supplies with Sam Nook (the teenager didn't need to know that it was just Sam acting for his sake), the creeper hybrid immediately offering to care for him. And Tommy, instead of being thankful for Sam's kindness, ignored every rule he set in place. No wandering off, no climbing things because 'you're just a kid and I don't want you to get hurt', he didn't listen to any of it.

Sam had been patient, too, stopping his collecting and calmly reminding the kid that he wasn't supposed to do that, before ruffling his hair or kissing his forehead and returning to his work. All of that, only for Tommy to immediately go back to the thing he wasn't supposed to do.

Tommy heart had dropped and melted into a pool of anxiety the moment Sam snapped in frustration and pulled him down from where he hung on a tree, telling him that he shouldn't try and climb when he's so small and clumsy. The moment Sam got to stern with him, Tommy was prepared for yelling and some sort of punishment.

A time out? Ten minutes of no-talking-time, no matter how emotional he was or how much comfort he needed? Maybe his stuffed animals would be taken away once they headed home, or possible his favorite toy would be banished to a cabinet he couldn't reach for a bit. Or he wouldn't be allowed to have his favorite dessert, chocolate chip cookies, for a little while. He didn't know, it was always a surprise with his past caregivers.

"M' sorry," Tommy mumbled, not looking up at him. He blinked away tears, sniffling already.

"Hey," Sam realized that he made him cry, frowning, "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Toms. I just got frustrated, no one's upset with you, or angry," he said, trying to get a glance at his face, only for Tommy to duck his head farther down. "Hey, hey, look up at me." he still spoke softly, calmly as ever, which only scared Tommy more.

It felt like he was watching a ticking bomb, and that Sam would hit a certain point and just burst, and the bomb explosion would bring the overly-harsh disciplinary behaviors he was used to.

He had broke the rules, where was the yelling?

Tommy felt fingers under his chin, gently guiding him to look up. He was a bit confused when he saw nothing but the face of a concerned friend. "Sorry, sorry, should've listened," he mumbled, backing away from Sam. "P'ease don' be mad."

"I'm not mad! Not at all," Sam didn't know how to help, or why the boy was so scared. All it took was him getting a little frustrated for Tommy to become an anxious mess, crying and begging for him not to be mad. What had his past caregivers done to make him expect anger so bad it made him cry, when he broke the rules?

He was simply a child being ordered to just follow an adult around with nothing to do while said adult worked, it wasn't fun and it should almost be expected for him to get into a little trouble, Sam knew that. That's why he was being so lenient and calm, trying to find ways to entertain Tommy as he worked, he was trying to be understanding. But apparently, past caregivers didn't think the same way.

"No, no, m' sorry," Tommy continued to fidget behind his back, still feeling the need to hide his anxious habit, not listening to Sam's attempts at reassuring him as he panicked. He finally finds an adult that cares about him, and he messes it up by being a brat (As Wilbur so kindly put it constantly back in Pogtopia)? Sam hated him, there's no way he didn't. He had messed up already and he hated himself for it.

"Come here," Sam ordered, opening his arms. "If you want to," he added, realizing that the boy might not want to hug him. He didn't know how else to comfort a crying child, though.

Tommy only stepped forward, wiping at his face and going quiet. Sam sighed, "Okay," he lowered his arms, figuring he wasn't getting anywhere with that. Plus, the creeper didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He'd just figure out another way to help him.

"What's wrong, Toms?" He wanted to figure this out, he just wanted to help him.

"When are you gonna yell at me, Mister Nook?" he tilted his head as he looked up at Sam with curious and innocent eyes, genuinely confused with the situation. Sam was still being nice to him, even though he wasn't being good. He didn't get it.

"Why would I yell at you?" Sam seemed confused, and all the more concerned.

"Cause I was bad," Tommy mumbled, dropping his hands to his sides when Sam seemed to noticed that his arms were moving.

Sam took a second to process the little's words, feeling anger bubble in his chest when he put together what that meant. He couched down a bit more, giving Tommy a serious look.

"Tommy, did your other caregivers yell when you broke the rules or got in trouble?" He questioned carefully, feeling himself get unreasonably angry as he thought about what his next interactions with Philza or Technoblade would look like. He pushed that aside, looking to Tommy. For now, he needed to focus on the regressor, and help him calm down. He had an anxious little to care for, he'd get revenge on the assholes that made him anxious at a later date.

\He watched as Tommy nodded nervously. "And yelling scares you?" he asked, sympathetic tone in his voice. Another nod, paired with Tommy looking down at his feet again, as if he was embarrassed. Sam lifted his chin again, "So, your old caregivers, they got mad at you when you misbehaved?"

He sounded shocked, like the behavior was unreasonable. Of course, it really was, but Tommy didn't quite understand that. He didn't deserve to be yelled at just because he wasn't perfectly behaved all the time. He didn't deserve to be treated this badly, especially when he was turning to his safe place.

Tommy nodded a bit, wiping a tear from under his eye, "Don' like it when people are mad at me. Makes me feel bad." he explained in his childlike voice. He was calming down a bit, listening to Sam's non-angry not-loud voice, almost ready to believe that he wasn't gonna be screamed at.

"Oh, sweet thing," Sam sighed, feeling his heart melt in his chest, "I'm never gonna get mad at you for breaking the rules, okay? I might get a little upset, or frustrated, but never mad, and I won't yell at you unless I absolutely have to, which I'm sure I won't." he explained. Tommy seemed to feel a bit better hearing that, slipping younger as he listened to Sam's calm and soft and reassuring voice.

"You sure? m' not in twouble?" Tommy fiddled with his hands behind his back again, a little sad that he did have any of his comfort items with him. All of his fidget toys and stuffed animals were tucked in a chest in his shack. He hadn't planned to regress today, so all that stuff was back at home.

"No, I don't like punishments anyway! Just try to listen better next time, okay? I'm also really sorry that I snapped at you." Sam held out his pinky, promising that Tommy was okay. Tommy took it in his own, seeming relieved when Sam didn't take back his words in any way. "We'll work on rules and rewards, and getting you to listen better, and how to deal with it when you don't without scaring you. We can talk about it when you're big."

Sam wasn't lying. He preferred the idea reinforcing positive behaviors and softly correcting negative ones, and only using simple, quick punishments that connected directly to whatever was done whenever they were really needed.

Sam ruffled his hair, glad that he wasn't crying anymore, happy he had found a way to comfort him without crossing any of his boundaries. Tommy leaned into the touch as he processed his words. "Rewards?" he seemed like an excited little puppy. Was he not rewarded for good behavior before? Did none of his previous caregivers know what positive reinforcement was?

"Yeah, if you're a good baby and follow the rules well, we can get you new toys and stuff. How does that sound?" Sam paused, thinking it over. "Actually, you can earn a reward if you stick by me and don't climb anything for the rest of the trip."

Tommy's eyes widened as he gasped, bouncing on his feet. "Really?"

"Yep!" Sam said, popping the 'p', "If you're on you're very best behavior, I'll pay Eret to make you a new stuffie, okay? It can be anything you want!" Sam spoke in an overly-excited voice, matching Tommy's 'excited toddler' energy. He'd rather a hyper little than an anxious one.

"Even even ev-" Tommy took a breath, his excitement causing him to stumble over his words, "Even a cow? Wanna a cow stuffie!"

"If that's what you want, I'll just have to ask Eret what she can do," Sam nodded, standing up straight. "C'mon kiddo, I'm gonna get the last of what we need so that we can head home."

Immediately, Tommy followed Sam, sticking by his side the rest of the trip. Not because he was scared of getting in trouble, but because he wanted his reward. He wanted to make 'Mister Nook' proud of him. That's what being a softer caregiver did, it made him want to behave.

Little did anyone know, a softer caregiver is exactly what he needed. Yelling didn't work, it only sent him into panic attacks and break downs. And Sam picked up on that quicker then any of his previous caregivers ever did.

Instead of wandering off and causing trouble, he fiddled with his hands (not behind his back, or because he was anxious, but because he was excited and hopeful) as he followed Sam around like a little helper, rambling on about whatever he wanted, temporarily forgetting about his previous tears or anxious thoughts as Sam was nothing but kind and gentle with him. Eventually they headed home, Sam offering to stay with Tommy for the night, not wanting him to be this little alone.

"Good job today, kiddo. I'll ask Eret about that cow stuffie when I see them next, yeah?" Tommy led Sam to his bedroom once the caregiver told him it was getting late and he wanted him to get to bed soon.

Tommy smiled, "I really did good?" he asked, looking up at Sam hopefully. "Be- beca-" he huffed, frustrated with himself for struggling with the word, "Cause' I tried really hard!" he eventually settled on shortening the word, a little shocked when Sam didn't try to correct him, or get annoyed because he 'wasn't speaking properly'.

"I know, sweetheart. And that's all I ask for, is that you try," Sam ruffled his hair. Just like earlier, Tommy leaned into the touch. After this, Sam lead him through the process of getting ready for bed, laying down with him when the little claimed he absolute needed to cuddle both the creeper hybrid and every single one of his stuffies.

"T'ank you, Mister Nook," Tommy mumbled, cuddling into his chest sleepily.

"For what, Toms?" Sam smiled at his use of 'Mister Nook', glad he found an endearing term he was comfortable with using. This was Sam's first time officially caring for Tommy, though he had agreed that he would when Tommy opened up about wanting to start regressing again a few weeks prior. He just didn't think it'd happen on a trip for supplies.

"Helpin' me when I was sad. Makin' me feel better," he explained his thought process the best he could in his childlike headspace, "Make me happy." He was obviously half asleep, but he was telling the truth. He meant every word he said, even if it didn't make complete sense.

Sam felt his heart warm as Tommy nuzzled his way further into Sam's chest, somehow cuddling even closer. Big Tommy would surely be embarrassed in response to this whole situation, but the new caregiver just found it adorable. "Awe, you're welcome, buddy. I'm glad I could help." he smiled softly, hold him close.

This kid just had him wrapped around his finger, huh? He came in, with his anxiety and trauma, obviously needing help, that Sam was quick to offer. And he was glad he did so, he wanted to do everything he could to help this annoying blonde kid, even if it'd be the end of him.

Tommy seemed to be getting closer and closer to falling asleep by the second, his eyes fluttering shut as he started to give up on staying awake. "Mhm, love yous Mister Nook." His voice was barely audible, mumbled out softly and quietly.

Sam was a little shocked when he processed his words, but he smiled wide, happy that the little cared about him too. He had grown to care about this kid, a lot, and in a very short amount of time. "I-i love you too, kiddo."

But Tommy was already fast asleep, safe in his caregivers arms as he dreamt of playful adventures and fun games, no worries in his mind about loud yelling or anxious tears. Because he was just a kid, and he shouldn't have to worry about those things.

And Sam wanted to do everything he could to help him live a fun and worry free life, the kind of one he'd see in his dreams. He just wanted to protect him. From overly harsh carers or anxiety, no matter what it took.

Because he was Little Tommy's 'Mister Nook'.

--

A/N: I hope y'all liked that! if you're reading this, then you get some exciting news! I'm doing a joint writing project (a short, multi-part dsmp agere fic) that I should be posting the first chapter of soon! It's been really cool see our writing styles and headcannons clash as we work on this, and I really hope you guys like it! I am very excited about it!

anyways, please reply/reblog with/send asks with feedback on this chapter. Can you relate to Tommy? Do you like how I portrayed Tommy and Sam's new cglre dynamic? You can say literally anything, I still appreciate it. Criticism, your favorite scene or bit, or literally heart emojis to say 'hey! I enjoyed this but I'm awkward and this is how I show my support!!!'. 

And, feel free to request something, either in this universe, a completely different one, or one of my others. The worst that can happen is that I say no/take a while to get to it! have a good day, everyone! thanks for reading! 

[imagine-your-love-story]

Thank you for encouraging a safe space on Tumblr. It might seem like basic courtesy to leave people be, leave them their comfort and creative freedom, but apparently it's not. As someone who has very questionable self ship poly dynamics, it's.. nice not being scared of seeing "Don't interact if this- dont interact if that" and then in danger of harrassment.

Please keep spreading these vibes of comfort and love - you're a great person whom we need a lot more of in the world wide web

You're very welcome, lovely! :) :) :)

Hoo boy. I have...soooo many thoughts on like....ALL of this. And this post is gonna get LONG because I've opened the can of worms and I'm lettin' it all out :P

The amount of bullying and negativity I've seen in the selfshipping community lately is very painful and disappointing to watch. Tumblr and fandom has always been somewhat of a cesspool but I had hoped that selfshipping was a little better.

I'm not seeing a positive community on a large scale right now.

There are some people who are shining little stars out there of course! But there's more hate being spread around than I can stomach.

I've spent Y E A R S researching and unlearning and pushing back against the psychological and emotional effects of manipulative behaviors like: blame, guilt, shame, and harassment.

I absolutely 100000% believe you can speak to people civilly and state your reasons why you think their behavior is damaging. Without telling them, "You are wrong. You are a bad person." Or otherwise making them feel shitty about themselves.

And I also believe that you CAN allow that person to say, "I don't agree with what you're saying" and you can still have normal interactions with that person without immediately shunning them and labeling them as a terrible person.

People BLOSSOM when they are showered in love, acceptance, and understanding. People are MUCH more willing to listen and heed what you have to say when you give them SPACE to see your point of view (or disagree with you and still accept them).

This culture on social media where people jump STRAIGHT to, "You're a HORRIBLE person because you do something I disagree with!" is, frankly, horrifying and a little disgusting.

Does this mean I condone negative and damaging behaviors?

No. Absolutely not.

But there seems to be this loss of perspective on what is considered "negative and damaging behaviors".

1. It's fiction. Fiction has NEVER been "clean". It's a place of freedom to discuss EVERYTHING.

2. You don't have to feel comfortable with everything being discussed in fiction. I'm not. If I don't like a self-shipper's content because it hits some trigger buttons for me...I don't follow their blog. Because that's my boundary and I have every right to it.

Do I send them messages saying, "You're a toxic person!"

Nope.

Do I comment on their ship that they love and say, "This makes me uncomfortable!"

Nope.

It's not my business.

Also: it’s fiction and there are MUCH bigger problems that require my energy than whether or not I should correct someone’s fictional ship.

Go save the ocean.

Go save the rainforest.

Go save the planet you live and breath on.

Fiction should not be making you angry enough to send hate mail to someone else. Full stop. That should never ever be a priority.

3. Some people engage in selfshipping "negative behaviors" as a way to cope with their trauma. We have no idea what a person has been through and we have no right to tell them that they should stop what they're doing when we do not know where they are on their journey of healing.

It hurts my heart so, so much when I receive messages from selfshippers like you, dear anon, who are TERRIFIED to share their love stories with their characters because they're afraid of being labeled/attacked/harassed by the community.

That's the community letting you down. That should NOT be happening and I'm so sorry you're feeling that way, lovely.

The ENTIRE point of selfshipping was to ESCAPE the people who criticized for shipping yourself with a character that you love. The foundation of selfshipping is that ANYTHING is possible!!! You are limitless!!!

And now people are policing what you can do??? That's...that completely obliterates the point of selfshipping. That's WHY we escaped to our own community!

I don't know if this video is available outside of the U.S., but I highly recommend, the Crappy Childhood Fairy's Youtube video on Cancel Culture. It's a great listen when you're navigating the emotional turmoil of social media culture.

So, if you're still reading after ALL OF THAT :P here are some key points about this blog and my philosophy when it comes to selfshipping:

This blog will always be a judgment free zone

Of course I have opinions! Of course we may disagree on something! But I won't judge you for it. You're allowed to do your own thang! ;)

I will never have a DNI.

If I feel an interaction is crossing into territory that isn't appropriate or acceptable, I'll say so. And if that doesn't work, I'll block and report. But I will never have a DNI on this blog.

Yes, I am an adult. So if minors don't feel comfortable following my blog, it's okay if they don't! I understand!

But I don't have a problem talking with minors because they are human beings and they may need support. I worked in Youth Services at a library for over two years. I know sometimes kids just want someone to talk about cool books and movies with and I'm 100% down for that 24/7 :)

Because this blog is all-ages friendly, I will never post 18+ content because - just like IRL - I make sure that I am mindful of the people around me. I may post some suggestive content that is tagged, but I try not to get too explicit.

I also don’t really think a DNI is necessary for me personally. Of course if I feel threatened by someone, I won’t interact with that person. But if a shipper is into content that I don’t like???? I don’t feel the need to say, “I will never interact with you!” That’s....exhausting. Besides, there are plenty of other things we can chat about! :)

I will always share f/os.

I know some people don't like to share and that's their boundary they can draw if they want to (no shade here!), but I've found that if I don't share, it's a very lonely experience. So I always share and I’m happy to interact if we have the same f/o :)

DMs are always open if you need a shoulder to lean on

If you need to dump or vent or whatever, my DMs will always be open so you can chat! It can feel weird, and maybe you'll feel bad because you won't know what to say!!!

That's okay :)

Even if all you want to do is vent and never reply, I'm happy to listen and offer any words of encouragement and support you need to hear! :)

[oigimi]

. ordinary mornings .

isaac x oc . 1.3k words . NSFW!! MINORS DNI!! .

. note: this was a special request. i will not be doing additional character x oc fics for the time being. i apologize! .

By all accounts, it was a standard morning in the mansion. Almost everybody was awake doing whatever it was they felt like doing: Cleaning, painting, ruthlessly being aggressive towards everyone in the house, the usual. In one Sir Isaac Newton’s room, however, something was just off. The physicist was curled up into bed, heavily asleep. He was not the type to sleep in, but he had found himself up unreasonably late charting the stars. It wasn’t until the sun made her appearance that he forced himself to go to sleep. So there he was, cuddled up in his bed, catching up on any rest he could have gotten the previous night.

The man next to him, however, could not have been in a more opposite position. Huaisang, Isaac’s longtime and beloved boyfriend, was wide awake, holding Harry the hedgehog. The little creature curiously looked around the room he’d spent the majority of life in, and then back up at his handler. Huaisang sighed, setting Harry onto the nightstand, and groaned, “Isaaaaaaac, wake up!” Unsurprisingly, Isaac didn’t move. He only seemed to snore even louder. Huaisang groaned again and threw up his arms. “I want you to looooove meeee! Isaaaaaaac!” He whimpered and looked over at his boyfriend, hoping he’d at least made a dent in the impenetrable wall of sleep that surrounded him. Once again, he found his efforts fruitless.

He rubbed his face, sighing and shaking his head. Huaisang had been awake for hours, the cause being a rather… erotic dream he had had about Isaac and himself. Clouding his mind were images of himself, staring up at the ceiling, wailing in intoxicated ecstasy, begging his boyfriend for more. Every touch, every sound, every sensation that awoke him remained in his mind, refusing to evict themselves. It drove him mad, desperately craving the raw, shameless feelings that only Isaac could give him. In fact, it made him mad to the point of tears. He couldn’t hold himself in any longer. Huaisang needed Isaac, and he needed him that very moment.

Before he did anything, Huaisang scooped Harry up in his hands and carried him out of the bedroom. He set the little creature on the kitchen table and rushed back up to Isaac’s room, launching himself onto the bed, and directly onto Isaac.

“GAH! Huaisang! Huaisang, what-?!”

“Newwwt, I’ve been waiting for you! I’ve been waiting for hours!”

“W-Waiting for me-?” Isaac stuttered, trying to recover his startled heart. “Huaisang, what are you talking about-?”

Huaisang groaned and started to tear up. “I was laying beside you for hours, Newt! I wanted you to wake up so we could cuddle and kiss and hug each other!”

Isaac’s face became comparable to his favorite fruit. God, Huaisang always knew how to hit at his heartstrings, with that seductively grating little voice he’d beg in and the strategic use of the name only he was allowed to use. When he looked at Huaisang’s pleading eyes, glossy with tears just waiting to spill, he found himself with no reason. He looked away, fully aware of the fact he was past the point of no return. Huaisang had him wrapped around his little finger, ready to beg him to do anything he wanted.

“Alright, let’s cuddle.”

“Yay!!” Huaisang once again threw himself onto Isaac, peppering his heated face in gentle kisses. In a fit of giggles he pulled his boyfriend on top of him, still reaching up to peck his lips and neck. “Newt, kiss me!”

“You do this so fast, Huaisang! It’s so hard to keep up sometimes!” Despite his protests, Isaac was quick to play along. He moved along with Huaisang, suckling on his pink, kissable lips. The two lied together, instinctively wriggling and rubbing each other. Isaac pulled away for a moment, completely unaware of the environment he had helped create: Drool and spit that coated Huaisang’s swollen lips, blistering heat born of both of their bodies, and the hard and stiff members that proudly touched each other. “Y-you should call it now. You know how I get- what with the- you know… my aberrance.”

Huaisang only smirked. “And that’s a problem… How? Newt, you’re hungry. You’re so hungry, and so am I. I know you so well, I thought you’d know me.”

“Shit,” Isaac whispered, wiping his forehead. He looked back down at his little boyfriend. He was completely right. Isaac absolutely craved everything he had. It was only moments ago that he was asleep in bed, and before he knew it, he was on top of Huaisang, ready to claim what the both of them knew was his. “Well… Are you ready?”

“Newwwt! What a stupid question!”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Isaac flipped Huaisang onto his stomach and pulled him up into his arms. “You smell so sweet… Oh, Huaisang… I need you.”

He smiled, fully prepared for the circus of sensations that were about to hit him. “And I need you too, Newt. You’re my er-ge, my one and only… Now hurry up! We’ve waited long enough!”

And without any further prompting, Isaac pushed all of himself into Huaisang- His fat, throbbing heat as well as his pure white set of fangs. He gasped, once again enthralled by the ecstasy that was granted to him whenever he was inside of him. He groaned, licking and sucking on the newly-made bite on Huaisang’s neck. He let no droplet of blood go to waste. He couldn’t even bring himself to remove his lips from Huaisang for even a split moment.

As he was being drained of his blood, Huaisang relished in the fullness he felt in his place. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he cried out Isaac’s name, desperately grabbing for a pillow. That orgasmic feeling granted by a vampire’s bite- the greatest feeling in the world- pumped its way through him, inflaming every nerve in his body. He shook, he trembled, and he screamed in delight. As Isaac would say: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and the equilibrium between being drained of his lifeblood and filled up with his lover’s shameless sexual desires was enough to make Huaisang limp and defenseless as everything he dreamed of came true. “Newt! Newt, oh Newt! P-please, I’m gonna-! Ohhh!”

“Huaisang!” Isaac kept going, squeezing Huaisang’s hips. He pushed and pulled them back and forth to create an ebb and flow with his own. His ass shook with every additional movement that he created. Isaac’s vision began to blur. He became fully aware of everything that pleasured him in the present moment. He was actually quite proud of himself. Love and sex had no formulas, but he somehow created the perfect motions for both of them. Huaisang’s cries colored the air, and managed to strike a chord deep within Isaac’s body. A chord that made everything fall apart. He released as soon as it hit his ears, barely anything escaping Huaisang’s body save for a few drops. They collapsed onto the bed, struggling to catch their breath.

“Well, thanks for the meal. I guess I don’t need any Rouge this morning,” Isaac chuckled, glancing at Huaisang.

He only giggled, twirling his hair. “You’re welcome, er-geeee! Thank you for loving meeee! Thank you for making my dreams come trueee.”

“Of course,” Isaac laughed, shaking his head. He sighed and sat up. “Well, I’d bet the whole house heard us. We’d better get ready for the day then.” The inventor reached for his nightstand, suddenly stopping. “Where did Harry go?”

Huaisang giggled and shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he just… knew this was coming and left just in time.”