#velour sweatpants

[groovyangelkisses]

x-men 2000!logan x bimbo!reader is so personal to me <3

slightly nsfw: 🪷

he was standing with scott and a few students on the first landing when he saw you; skipping down the steps of xavier's school, big bouncy hair and shiny lip gloss that catches in the light streaming from the big, glass window. you're clutching your resume in one hand, and the sweetest little pink coach nolita barrel bag in the other as you happily chew on bubblegum— the smell wafting over to logan instantly.

and logan reads you like a book— even from a solid 5 feet away. your curvy legs & hips covered by the softest baby blue velour sweatpants, your tummy slightly on display. at this point, he's long forgotten whatever scott was piously rambling about to the students (and if he's being honest he was never truly listening at all) and logan's full attention is devoted to you. you and your sweet smile and gleeful squeal at getting a job as a mutant teacher, you and your long nails clacking against the old wooden railing as you descend, you and your little baby tee covered by the same soft blue, velour fabric in a mini zip up hoodie. and logan just stares, unable to move for a second. he doesn't even register he is staring until you're turning to him with a pearly smile and a little finger wave, one that he immediately mirrors (much to scott's amused confusion). you whip around, walking to the door, and logan knows he's hit his final straw. he watches the sway in your hips, and your small, excited steps leading you away as the bedazzled "juicy" written across your ass grows further away. the sight has him chasing you out the door— walking him like a dog before you even knew his name.

and once you two get together? oh EVERYONE knows. i mean, you're the perfect girl for logan. hyperfeminine, sweet and a tad ditzy, but intelligent and strong in your own way. soon your little mini skirts start to mirror the colors of logan's flannels, and your lipstick looks a tad more smeared in the mornings, and some of the other teachers even notice a little golden anklet around your leg, displaying a heart shaped "L" inside.

and logan absolutely eats it up. he loves watching you put on your makeup in the morning, makin you sit on his lap while he braids your hair and you ramble about certain products. he's constantly needy for you too. your sweet scent lingering in the hallways, and storm swears that at one point he blissfully closed his eyes at the sound of your heels approaching him in the hallway. he loves the dynamic between you both— him a pinnacle of masculinity, and strength. but you, you're soft and girly, so girly that it makes him hard just hearing your breathy sighs throughout the day.

he can barely function when you start tapping your foot during one of charles' weekly morning meetings, your bright sparkly pink pencil between your lips— covered in the lipstick he chose for you this morning. your wedges tap against the desk as you grow antsy, and logan has to press his hand against the seam of his jeans, his other hand reaching out to grab your anklet clad leg to pause your movement. and when you turn to him, a little gasp and big wide eyes, he has to stifle the grunt in his fist, whispering into your bejweled ear "c'mon baby, you're killin' me, sit still and i'll take care'a you later."

he's utterly obsessed with you, always saying how you're his "best girl," his "little cherry pie," his "dumb baby".

[rebelfell]

Surrender III

eddie munson x fem!reader x lesbian!chrissy cunningham

Part One┃Part Two┃Part Three

cw: established relationship, platonic!hc (eddie-chrissy are college besties), questioning/bi reader, threesome, fingering, oral (fem-fem giving and receiving), piv sex (unspecified birth control), squirting, one instance of spanking and singular use of the nickname “daddy” (not by r, it’s kind of a joke?)

18+, MDNI 6.5k

“Hey…are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Eddie’s voice is soft in your ear and you have to slightly rouse yourself, nearly having fallen asleep as you and he wait for Chrissy to arrive.

The room is quiet except for the low sound of the album he put on the record player, vinyl crackling occasionally, and the faint humming of the fan overhead pushing cool air down on your half-dressed bodies.

He’s drawn the gauzy curtains closed so the fading sunlight can still filter through and casts across the bed in a hazy glow. You lay flat on your stomach, wearing a pair of sweatpants a size or so too big so they’re slung low on your hips, and only your bra so he can gently rake his nails over the expanse of your back.

“Yeah,” you whisper, still halfway half-asleep. “I’m nervous, but I’m excited.”

“Me too.” He smiles at you and leans over to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “I just don’t want you thinking this was like a plan or something. I thought for sure these days were behind us, I never imagined this would happen.”

“Old habits die hard,” you snicker.

He grins back, his smile deepening the dimples in his cheeks and making your own heart swell.

“And you know you can take it back any time, right? Neither of us is gonna be disappointed or mad or anything like that. We just want you to have a good time.”

His steady voice and the words he’s saying warm your chest and you nod, cheek rubbing against the pillow under your face.

“I know that,” you say. “I trust you both.”

You fall quiet for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on your lip, and open your eyes to look up at him. 

“Hey, um…are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Of course,” Eddie smiles. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I was a total jealous nightmare obsessing about you and Chrissy getting together and now…”

You fall silent, pushing down the crack in your voice you can feel coming. Eddie tips your head up to look at him and gives a reassuring smile.

“I just kind of feel like a hypocrite,” you admit to him, your voice small.

“Don’t,” Eddie tells you, still smiling. “I get why you were worried, especially when I wasn’t telling you everything. You think you don’t deserve good things, so you can’t help but think when you have something good that it’s going to be taken away.”

He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple. You sigh at the feeling of his lips on your skin, the way his stubble rubs your hairline and gives you shivers that run across your scalp. You could have never imagined how good it would feel being with someone who knows you like he does. Someone who knew your body inside out, but also your head. And your heart.

“I know Chrissy…and I know you,” he tells you. “Neither of you would hurt me. You’re the best thing in my life. Nothing and no one is going to change that.”

He leans in to kiss you again, too wrapped up in one another to notice the turn of a key in the front door or the soft creak of its hinges.

“It’s you and me, right?” he murmurs, keeping his lips close to yours.

You nod decisively and whisper back. “It’s you and me.”

“God, you guys are like…disgustingly cute.”

You and Eddie’s heads both lift at the sound of another voice in the room. Chrissy leans against the door frame, arms crossed in front of her chest with a doting smile on her face. She’s dressed much more casually than the last time you saw her, in a matching set of velour sweats like an updated version of those Juicy tracksuits that were all the rage in college. 

The soft mocha color of them sets off the red in her hair making it look less blonde than it did at The Hideout. Her make-up is simple, what little she’s wearing at all. You can’t help but grin at the sight of her as you bite down on your bottom lip. Her eyes sparkle as they meet your gaze and her nose scrunches adorably as she smiles at you.

“That’s what you get for breaking and entering,” Eddie chortles. Chrissy just rolls her eyes.

“That’s what you get for never changing your hiding spot.”

She holds up her hand and twirls the spare key Eddie keeps underneath an ogre statue in the yard around her finger. The sun catches on the sparkles on her nails as she lays the key down on your dresser and moves inside the bedroom.

“Someone likes back scratches, huh?”

The mattress dips as Chrissy joins you and Eddie on the bed. She reaches out and traces your spine with her forefinger from the nape of your neck all the way down to the small of your back. It causes more shivers to ripple across your body and you emit a deeply contented sigh.

“Mmhmm, better than a massage,” you hum.

Chrissy’s eyes find Eddie’s over you. “Mind if I take over?” she asks.

He doesn’t answer audibly, but you assume he must have nodded or brandished his hand with a silent be my guest when you feel Chrissy shift and swing out her leg. You feel the gentle graze of her velour sweats as she lowers to straddle you, knees resting on either side of your hips. 

Eddie brushes your cheek one last time with the backs of his fingers and carefully climbs off the bed. “I’m gonna grab us some waters,” he says. “Chris, you need anything else?”

Chrissy glances over her shoulder at him with a playful smile. “Got any candles you can light? A little ambiance never killed anybody.”

“No, but candles sure have,” he says back wryly. “I’ve got some, but it’ll take me a minute.” 

“That’s okay,” Chrissy hums. “We’ll keep ourselves busy.”

You listen as Eddie’s footsteps recede down the hall and you have to try and contain not only your excitement, but also the nerves that are starting to bubble up in your chest. As though she senses it, Chrissy devotes herself to keeping you relaxed. She gently strokes your back with a sensual skim of her fingertips up and down your spine, light as a tickle but smoother.

“I’m gonna unhook this, okay?”

Her hands rest on the clasp of your bra, but she waits to separate it until you give an affirming nod. The relief of it releasing is instantaneous, the band and straps falling away. Chrissy begins to scratch methodically, first with all ten fingers moving as one in a long, slow crawl down your back, and then splitting off in different swirling patterns. She knows all the places that need to be paid special attention, like right above your rib cage where the band dug into your skin all day. Her nails aren’t long, just a short almond shape, but they’re enough to offer a deeper scrape and more relief than Eddie’s blunt fingertips.

Leaning forward so her body presses against your back, she lets her lips hover over your ear.

“If you ever want to stop, you tell me, okay? If you aren’t enjoying yourself, I’m not either.”

“You got that from Eddie,” you say, recalling the first time you’d come over to his place. The first time you’d laid in this bed that would eventually become your own.

Heart in your throat, you’d warned him you weren’t ready to go too far. After all, you were still living in New York at the time and staring down the barrel of your return flight home set for the day after your sister’s wedding in a little over a month. The last thing you needed was to get too attached to someone who lived hundreds of miles away—least of all the sweet, handsome, oddly disarming guy you just met at a strip club. And you knew if you gave in to what your body was screaming for, it would only lead to heartbreak. There was no way it wouldn’t.

Eddie responded perfectly. More than perfectly. He said he didn’t care what you did or how far you went. He only cared about spending as much time with you as he could; and that he would go at whatever pace made you comfortable. If you aren’t enjoying yourself, I’m not either.

Which of course only made you want to do it more.

Chrissy laughs breathily, the sound a sweet and fluffy thing like a wisp of cotton candy.

“Eddie got that from me, babydoll.”

She pushes up on her knees so you have room to roll over onto your back. As you do, your arms come up instinctively to cover your breasts, suddenly feeling ashamed of the way they probably look from this angle, flat and flopping around unlike her tiny, perky ones.

“Don’t hide from me, beautiful,” she tuts, wrapping her hands around your own and bringing them to the zipper of her sweater.

Your fingers fumble around the metal pull and Chrissy helps you drag it down, revealing her skin is bare underneath. She has a faint smattering of freckles across her chest and you stroke your fingers softly along her collar bone and over her breasts as her sweater slides off her arms.

The light pressure of her body settles back down on your hips and she leans forward again, letting her warm chest press against your own. Her long lashes flutter and the gold ‘86 charm hanging on the chain around her neck swings steadily like a pendulum and bumps your chin.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks. Wordlessly, you nod.

Her lips are familiar, in a way. Plush and full, not unlike Eddie’s. They move against yours with purpose—not aggressive, but insistent. Like she’s trying to show you how much she wants this too. Gradually, you open up to her, giving her tongue access to probe your own and sighing softly when it does. The light clicks of your lips meeting again and again fill the room under the gentle strums of the acoustic guitar on the album playing.

You’re so lost in her, you don’t catch the sound of Eddie’s bare feet padding softly on the carpet as he returns. A soft creak makes your eyes fly open and you turn your head to the side. 

“Don’t mind me,” Eddie chuckles, leaning against the low bookshelf your record player sits on.

Beside it, he’s arranged some white pillar candles of varied sizes and states of dripped wax. There’s a soft hiss and a faint smell of smoke as he strikes a match to light them. The flickering flames make his shadow dance on the wall and once he’s done, his attention turns back to you.

His eyes are luminous as he watches you and Chrissy together, the deep brown of them warm and bubbling with excitement seeing the way your lips move so sultry and sensuous with hers.

“She’s a good kisser, huh?” he asks his friend.

“So good,” Chrissy murmurs, pressing her mouth back to yours. She swallows your soft hums and breathy moans of pleasure. Your hands come up to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks and fingers slipping into her fine, soft hair.

She nips gently at your bottom lip, a little hint at wanting something more, and you remember that little request she made on the phone. You slide one hand into her hair until the heel of your palm meets the base of her skull and firmly squeeze the hairs closest to her scalp. 

You don’t yank her head back, just grip her tightly enough to tip it back and get at the column of her neck. You suckle at the skin there, soothing the red mark you make with your tongue after. Her throat vibrates with a moan and you hear the soft plop of Eddie’s own sweats falling to the floor.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans as he palms the front of his boxers.

“Taker her pants off for me, Ed,” Chrissy instructs, tipping her head back down for another kiss.

Eddie nods and kneels dutifully at the foot of the bed. His fingers curl around the waistband of your sweats and he starts to tug them down over your hips and off your legs. He tosses them into the growing heap of clothes by the bed along with his pants and Chrissy’s sweater.

“I think she likes kissing you, Chris,” he says, his fingers toying with your dripping entrance.

“The feeling’s mutual.” Chrissy smiles, shooting you a wink as she slips off you to stand.

She removes her track pants, leaving her in nothing but a dainty thong, and your eyes go wide trying to take all of her in. A smile plays across her pillowy lips as she climbs back onto the bed and drapes herself against your side. You’re now laid bare before them, gazing down at Eddie between the valley of your breasts as he lowers himself to kiss at the apex of your thighs. His breath is warm as he exhales and brings his fingers to your core. 

He slides in one with ease and follows it with a second, relishing the hitch of your breath it causes as he begins to massage your warm, wet walls. There’s more warm breath on your ear as Chrissy leans in close to whisper to you.

“How’s he feel, angel?”

She smoothes her hand over your forehead and brushes a few pieces of hair from your face, letting her fingertips trail over your cheeks.

“He’s…he’s really good,” you pant, struggling to draw breath. Your body is already on fire after just a minute of having Eddie’s fingers, reactive to every touch of Chrissy’s soft hands.

“I’m not surprised,” she giggles, letting her fingers skim your navel. “He learned from the best.”

“Oh, please,” Eddie snorts from between your legs. “I’m completely self-taught.”

“Excuse me?!” Chrissy squeaks in mock outrage. “I’m like your Mr. Miyagi of pussy.”

You start to giggle until Eddie curls his fingers particularly deep and the sound crumbles into a low moan. The two of them continue their light squabbling while you drift away, being blissfully rocked by the pace and rhythm of Eddie’s capable fingers inside of you.

“Not a chance,” he tells her. “If anything, you learned everything you know from me.”

“You have some natural talent, I’ll give you that,” Chrissy concedes. “But there’s always room for improvement.”

With that, Chrissy places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder in a signal to swap places with her. He withdraws his fingers from you, his eyes locking with yours as he brings them to his lips and sucks them into his mouth. Just the sight makes you flutter and ache with need.

Chrissy lifts herself up until she’s suspended over you, caging you between her limbs. Her eyes glimmer as she dips down and little tendrils of hair caress your cheek as she kisses you sweetly. 

“I taught him everything he knows,” she whispers. “But not everything I know…”

Her soft lips skim the line of your jaw, traveling down to your neck and then your breasts. She laves her tongue over your nipple in a dazzling array of circles and flicks, gently rolling one between her fingertips as she suckles the other.

As she moves further down your body, Eddie smoothly moves up to lay beside you.

“Hi,” he whispers, smiling down at you, dimples deepening in his cheeks. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you breathe, the sound hitching in your throat as Chrissy’s warm breath fans across your mound. You meet her sparkling eyes once more as she glances up for one last check-in. Without a word spoken, you can see what she’s asking and you nod eagerly.

Her mouth is a mystifying combination of familiar and fresh. You recognize a couple of Eddie’s moves one or both of them must have learned from watching the other, but there’s still a clear distinction between the two. Where Eddie is precise and exacting in his movements—creative, yet deliberate as he’s working towards a goal—Chrissy has more finesse and flair. 

It’s whimsical and variable, changing up and keeping you constantly attuned to her. It’s kaleidoscopic, in a way, shapes and colors twisting in seemingly random order to create a stunning, beautiful pattern.

While Eddie’s fingers have the benefit of sheer length and girth, Chrissy’s can maneuver more efficiently. They actually dance inside of you, like they’re trying to waltz with your g-spot. It’s not even a matter of better or worse. With a gun to your head, you couldn’t decide which was more enjoyable. Luckily, you don’t have to.

You feel the weight of Eddie’s broad palm as he strokes the top of your head, and dreamily turn your head to look at him.

“How is she, beautiful?” he asks.

“She’s really good…holy shit…”

You hook a finger in his ball chain necklace to tug him down, but find it slack as he’s already on his way to kiss you. His mouth meets yours eagerly, relishing the feeling of the moans and whimpers that fall from your lips as Chrissy plays expertly with your clit.

“This is so great,” Eddie breathes as you pull apart. “I can hardly see you when I’m eating you out and now I’ve got a front row seat. God, you’re fucking gorgeous…”

He swoops in to plant his lips against yours again and it steals all the breath in your lungs. You reach out and fumble like mad to find Chrissy’s hand where she’s holding your thighs apart, weaving your fingers with hers and squeezing to tell her you’ve not forgotten her.

She squeezes your hand back, but lifts her head when your hips start to squirm.

“I think she needs to be fucked soon or we might kill her, Eds,” Chrissy says teasingly.

“That true, baby?” Eddie husks, his voice low in your ear. “You ready for my cock?”

“Yes, yes—please,” you gasp desperately. 

Chrissy’s slides up and her warm body lays against you, sandwiching you nicely between them as she pecks your lips softly.

“How do you want him to take you, angel?”

“From behind,” you say, daringly looking up at her.“So I can eat you out while he fucks me.”

The words feel clumsy coming out of your mouth, but still you commit to the statement as best you can and it must be enough for them to buy it. Chrissy’s large eyes widen even further as she exchanges a glance with Eddie, who looks at her like he might blow his load on the spot if you say something, anything, like that again.

“I think we created a monster,” she chuckles.

Needing no more prompting, Chrissy begins to arrange herself on the bed with a pillow under her hips and lays down another for your chest.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Eddie says, stroking himself as he watches you get into position.

You roll over on the bed to lay between Chrissy’s spread legs. You let your head drop low to ghost your mouth over her baby blue g-string, noting it’s the same pale shade as her eyeshadow you complimented that night you met at the bar. You lift up your hips, dripping slit on full display as Eddie kneels behind you. He draws a shuddering breath and a loud CRACK fills the room as he smacks his hand down on your ass. Your whole body jerks and you wail pleasurably.

Chrissy props herself up on her elbows and takes your chin between her fingers.

“Someone likes that, huh?” she says. “You like it when Daddy spanks you?”

You nod earnestly, eyes big and round, getting more excited by the second. Chrissy’s eyes flicker over your head to meet Eddie’s as a playful smirk spreads across her lips.

“Maybe keep that in check while she’s neck deep in my pussy?” she suggests

“Will do, Cap’n.”

Eddie gives Chrissy a little salute as you glance back over your shoulder at him. He shoots you a secretive wink, both of you knowing he had no intention of administering another even before Chrissy said something. Any more than one and the pain becomes too much of a distraction.

His ass, on the other hand…

You gasp suddenly, bunching the blanket in your fists as Eddie teases your entrance with the head of his cock. He smears your own juices between your legs, mixing them with the precum leaking from his tip. Rather than sinking inside, he slides it forward and the ridges of his tip and shaft catch on your clit and make you keen forward.

“Should I take these off?” Chrissy asks, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her thong.

“No, I…I wanna,” you say softly.

Your head dips again and you begin a soft trail of kisses following the dip of her hips until you reach the curve of her waist. You place your mouth over the pale blue string, taking the thin elastic band between your teeth to pull it down. Behind you, Eddie actually whines at the sight and he leans sideways to watch as you drag the tiny piece of fabric down over Chrissy’s hip bone. 

With all the grace of a ballerina, she brings her legs together and sticks them up in the air so you can lift her panties off completely. Once they’ve been tossed away, she lets her legs fall open on either side of you and you can’t help but stare. A bare shave, skin smooth and soft as a peach. Pink tissue glistening with her own arousal.

You tilt your head as you regard it, eyes dancing, a little surprised. “Huh,” you say. “It’s so…pretty.”

“Thank you,” Chrissy says with a tittering laugh. “And it tastes as good as it looks.”

You meet her gaze over her mound and the two of you share a devilish smile.

“Start slow, baby,” Eddie coos, his hands running up your sides. “The way I do with you, you know? Touch her thighs…rub around the outside…tease her…get her all needy…”

“Leave her alone, Ed,” Chrissy tuts. “Let her play with her new toy how she wants.”

The two of them exchange a smile and you feel the familiar weight of your boyfriend’s palm smoothing up your spine, the heel of his hand pressing gently down and helping to coax you forward. Your heart pounds in your chest as you descend, tongue slipping out to wet your lips before placing a kiss on the inside of Chrissy’s milky thigh. 

“Mmm, hang on a second,” Eddie says, suddenly backing off the mattress. He walks around to the head of the bed so he’s standing over you as you look up at him plaintively.

“Are you not gonna…”

You glance behind you at the space he just occupied, pussy clenching around nothing as if in mourning. Eddie smiles and leans in close, his hand reaching out to cradle your jaw. You shiver at the roughness of his calloused thumb against your cheek and stare into his eyes.

“I will, baby, I promise,” he says. “You just…god, you look so hot right now I have to watch.”

You swallow hard, torn between the thrill his words send through you and the nerves now creeping up your shoulders and making them tense. Giving head was one of the things you actually felt pretty confident about. Guys were quick to tell you how good you were—Eddie in particular, even before he had discovered your affinity for praise. Of course, you could never shake the suspicion they only told you it was really good so you would do it more often. 

Still, you’d certainly done it enough and you had it on pretty good authority your skills were above average. And you’d sort of been hoping maybe you could coast on that and Chrissy might help you with the finer points. But the thought of Eddie watching you do it? Being on display like that…not only having to be good, but also make it look like it was good?

What if you were bad at it? What if Chrissy hated it and didn’t have the heart to tell you after all this build up? You imagined her lovely face grimacing as you remained oblivious between her thighs. That would be a disaster in and of itself, but the thought of Eddie bearing witness to your spectacular failure? 

At least if he was fucking you, he’d have something to keep him occupied.

“Hey,” Chrissy whispers, placing her hand on your other cheek so they’re each cupping a side of your face. “Come out of your head, angel.”

“Sorry,” you say meekly. “I’m…I’m trying to stay confident, it’s just hard.”

“Baby, why? You’re doing so good,” Eddie hums. “And you’re so sexy, can you really blame me for wanting to watch this?”

Your lip quivers as you avoid his gaze. “I just…it feels like I’m on display…”

“We’re not here to judge,” Chrissy says with a kind smile. “We know this is new for you, you’re not gonna get a scorecard at the end.”

“Just pretend I’m not here,” Eddie chuckles. “Chris already is.”

Chrissy swats his shoulder and it makes all three of you laugh gently. You look back and forth between them, warm brown eyes and sparkling blue-green ones. Both pairs shining and eager, focused solely on you, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen.

Making it easy to believe you are.

You carefully lean forward and peck Chrissy on the lips, then turn your head to kiss Eddie’s as well. And back to Chrissy, for longer this time, cupping her jaw before returning to Eddie again. Anywhere you look, there’s a pair of lips to kiss and you greedily drink your fill of both.

“Let’s slow down a little,” Eddie murmurs, words making his lips vibrate against yours. “You two kiss for a bit and I’ll just watch for now. Okay?”

His eyes find yours and he lifts his brow with the question. You nod, almost imperceptibly, and he drops his hand to wrap his fingers around your wrist. Three squeezes. I. Love. You.

Chrissy grins. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” she says, hand slipping around the back of your neck and pulling you into her mouth.

Eddie backs away and settles into the chaise by the window, spreading his legs wide to stroke himself as he watches you and Chrissy’s bodies begin to move together. You remember how mystified he’d been by you putting a chair there— “Just seems silly to have extra furniture. If we’re in the bedroom, we’re only gonna be on the bed,” he’d chuckled. 

He’s eating those words now, you’re sure of it.

You lay your body against Chrissy’s, letting one of your legs slot between hers, relishing in the velvety feel of her freshly shaved skin. Her mouth is open and inviting, tongue running across the seam of your lips to politely request access, which you grant her happily. 

The kissing is deep and slow, like you and Eddie used to do when you first started dating and you realized making out with him was better than all of your past sexual experiences combined. You brushed your fingertips over the swell of her breasts, so dainty and perky, playing with her nipples until they stiffen at your touch. 

She gasps as you move your lips down her cheek and sprinkle a line of kisses along her jaw until you reach her neck. You kiss and lick and suckle at the sensitive skin until Chrissy trembles in your arms. She turns her head to the side, mouth falling open in a gasp as you run the tip of your tongue across the shell of her ear.

“Get on top of me?” she asks in a breathy whisper. “I wanna feel you.”

You move quickly to straddle her hips as she’d done to you, placing your hands on her waist both to steady yourself and to hold her down as you begin a slow, deep grind down.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie groans from his seat. “You’re so goddamn hot, I can’t stand it.”

Chrissy smiles up at you and nods in agreement. She flattens her hands against your stomach and moves them up to palm your chest. At her touch, that burning pleasure reignites. You sneak a glance at Eddie and your whole body tingles at the sight of him. He looks almost primal. Eyes hooded with lust, gripping himself so tightly it must blur that border between pleasure and pain. His stroke is long and slow, tortuously so, to stave off his release as best he can.

The feeling of having his eyes on you, the ravenous way they rake over your form, causes your confidence to surge. You lean forward, boldly pressing your mouth to Chrissy’s before beginning a trail of kisses down her body, mouthing at the hollows of her neck, nipping at her pronounced collar bones until you reach her breast and suck her pert nipple into your mouth.

“Such a little tease,” she hums excitedly, pursing her lips in a pillowy pout. 

You chuckle around her nipple and release it with a lewd pop before continuing your trail down her body. Sternum to stomach, navel to mound, and at long last to your final destination.

You try to remember the things Eddie and Chrissy did that feel best for you, but eventually you give up on thinking at all. You let instinct take over, exploring her folds, listening to what makes her breathing get heavy, what makes her chest heave, what makes her thighs twitch and her toes curl over. You lose yourself in her taste and her musky scent, new but familiar.

“Oh, fuck you, Munson, I can’t believe you get this tongue all the time,” Chrissy whines, her voice wavering as you delve deeper into her center. 

You swirl your tongue around the edges of her entrance, spreading her lips apart, licking at them like honeysuckle petals. You’re so wrapped up in her you don’t even realize Eddie has left the chaise until you feel the sudden delicious stretch of him pushing inside of you at last. 

Gasps and whimpers fall from your lips right into Chrissy’s folds as he fucks into you. He starts with a steady roll of his hips, but you thrust back against him, chasing more force. He increases his pace, the slapping of his thighs against the backs of your own filling the room, as your lips surround Chrissy’s clit and you suck it like a piece of candy.

“Oh, yes, keep doing that,” Chrissy cries out, her voice jumping an octave in a pleasurable scream. “Just like that, just like that—”

Behind you, Eddie moans and you can feel his reaction as he pulses inside of you. “Jesus Christ, fuck—baby, you’re drenching me,” he exalts.

It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You’ve never felt as attractive as you do right now; never as wanted and desired. 

The sounds of both of them fill your head, a symphony of pleasure and praise. You squeeze and clench around Eddie’s cock, milking him for all he’s worth. He feels you getting close and his hand comes around to find your clit and rub the flats of his fingers over it. 

The coil in your belly grows impossibly tight with every pass over the bundle of nerves. He pushes further into you, his cock reaching impossibly deep until he hits that sacred spot within you that has you seeing bright white as you moan into Chrissy. Your orgasm rips through your body, walls gripping Eddie like a vice as his warm release paints your insides.

The sound of him coming is loud and guttural, his hips stuttering and thrusts growing erratic as he loses all control. Still, you do everything you can to maintain your pace on Chrissy. Her hips are squirming, her back arching as she grinds her hips against your lips and tongue.

“I’m so close,” she pants, breathless as her chest heaves. “Y-you’re gonna make me come, you’re making me feel so good—ahh!”

You plant a hand on her lower belly mostly for purchase as you add your fingers and crook them up in search of that spongy wall inside of her, but the pressure causes something else entirely. 

A spray of liquid hits your neck and chest, dribbling down your breasts. Chrissy’s voice goes higher as she rides out her orgasm, her thighs twitching against your ears. Behind you, Eddie’s eyes go round with shock as though he thinks he must be dreaming.

“Was that…did you…did she…”

Answering him seems unnecessary when the evidence is all over your face. Chrissy’s chest and stomach heave as she draws one shuddering breath after another, her high moan dissipating as the waves of her pleasure finally ebbed.

“Ffff-uck, angel, that was amazing.”

“Really?” you ask, looking up at her hopefully.

“Absolutely,” Chrissy hums, content and sated as she lets her head loll back on the pillow.

You look back at Eddie, your eyes big and hopeful. “How are you? You good?”

He bends at the waist and leaves a line of kisses down your spine, the soft ends of his long hair tickling your tingling skin as he does.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” he says, the noise throaty and strained from his efforts. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Incredible,” you sigh, laying down next to Chrissy and letting your head rest on her shoulder. 

She curls her slender arms around you and her fingers start to stroke the hair at the crown of your head. Eddie heads for the bathroom and returns with two washcloths. One, he hands off to Chrissy and the other he dips between your legs to collect his spend as it’s trickling from your entrance. Once she’s cleaned herself up, Chrissy has you sit up with her and she reaches for one of the waters sitting on the bedside table.

“Good girl,” she sighs as she brings the glass to your lips, her cheeks still flushed and skin all glowy and radiant from her orgasm. 

You can’t imagine ever looking as good as she does after you come. 

She kisses you after you sip, licking the chilled water from your lips before taking a drink of her own. You fall back onto the bed together and Eddie curls up beside you, their arms layering over one another’s as they hold you between them. You roll over after a minute, burying your face in the crook of his neck, Chrissy now curling around you as your big spoon.

“You hungry?” you murmur against his chest. 

“Fucking starved,” Eddie groans, making Chrissy chuckle.

She unwraps her arms from around you and stands to pull her clothes back on, glancing down fondly at the rumpled mess the three of you have made of the bed. As she zips her sweater, she pauses, looking for the first time a little unsure of herself.

“So, um…I guess I should go?” Her eyes dart back and forth between you and Eddie and you pull yourself off him to sit up.

“Do you have to?”

You look up at her plaintively and then back at Eddie, not quite sure what you’re even asking. All you know is you hate the thought of…kicking her out. Making her feel used. Letting her go back to Robin and Nancy’s without anyone to take care of her. God, do you wanna take care of her.

“You should stay, Chris,” Eddie tells her warmly. “Dinner should be done soon and we can watch a movie. Have a cuddle pile on the couch.”

“You sure? We’ve, uh…we’ve never done that before,” she says with a giggle.

It makes you laugh, too. The thought of them balking at something as innocent as cuddling when they’ve watched the other one fuck on multiple occasions. Eddie just shrugs and a smile plays across his lips as he leans in to brush the tip of his nose against yours.

“First time for everything,” he chuckles.

After you eat, you all settle in together on the big sectional sofa. Eddie sits up against the arm and you lay between his legs with your back against his chest and Chrissy draped across your front. It’s a delightfully crushing feeling, having both of them surround you. Eddie’s firm, solid body cradling yours while Chrissy rests her head on your chest and lightly strokes your legs.

You find out they both like to talk during movies and chuckle at the little quips they trade back and forth while you get to sit quietly, happily listening to them. Dinner sits warm in your belly and the heat of both their bodies around you is like the best electric blanket ever. 

About halfway through the movie, you start to crave something sweet. And just as you lift your head to ask if he wants dessert, you see Eddie’s phone is out and he is already DoorDashing ice cream for all three of you.

Pistachio, strawberry and butter pecan.

The sleep you eventually fall into isn’t deep. You let your eyes flutter closed, and your breathing grows even and rhythmic, but you’re conscious enough to feel it when Eddie lifts you off the couch. He carries you down the hall to the bedroom and Chrissy follows, helping him tuck you under the duvet in the center of the bed. 

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” she says, her voice hushed in the dark room.

“You can just stay the night if you want,” Eddie whispers to her. “She’ll be bummed if she wakes up and you’re not here”

You have to resist the urge to chuckle at all the domesticity you’re overhearing.

“I’m so happy for you, Ed,” Chrissy hums. “You guys are great together. Really solid.”

Eddie just smiles in response and holds a finger to his lips, shooting you a cautious glance to make sure you’re still asleep. He leads Chrissy to the closet and you hear the soft creak of the door opening as he ushers her inside. There’s a light rustling as he searches for something in the pocket of one of his blazers—the only hiding place he felt certain you wouldn’t find.

“Ohhh,” Chrissy mewls at whatever he shows her. “It’s perfect.”

“Thanks for the idea about getting her size. I thought she might have noticed the ring was missing, but she never said anything.”

“I’m so glad that’s the one you went with, it really suits her. When are you gonna ask?”

“I talked to Robin and Nance about having a dinner thing when they get back. Their patio is so nice with the lights and the pool and the fire pit and everything. And Jon will be there — I asked him about taking pictures. Will you still be in town? I think she’d like you to be there.”

“Of course,” Chrissy says. “Maybe we can go get our nails done that day.”

“That’s perfect.” Eddie exhales, breath coming out slightly shaky as he sucks in another. “And she…she’ll say ‘yes,’ right?”

“Oh, Ed…”

Chrissy lets out a soft sigh and you’d bet anything she’s rubbing his arm.

“Definitely,” she tells him. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

[ali-s4cc]

BEVERLY | top + sweatpants

Velour Crop Top and Sweatpants

New Mesh

HQ Texture

Female | Teen - Elders

Hot Weather Enabled

11 Swatches

download (top) download (sweatpants)

Use Code: SHOP_Plumbobs n Fries12 for TSR VIP DISCOUNT  

T.O.U

[welcometololaland]

is it incredibly millennial of me to be eyeing off juicy couture sweatpants (with matching velour top)? I kinda want to do it

[flipperbrain-awakes]

It's curious ain't it? Gray velvet is purple in the sunlight... but so is his waistcoat. Or was it purple all along and looks gray inside? It's a conundrum. I mean the yellow cast of the candlelight as the complement to purple tones could affect the color... I'm not a fabric aficionado, perhaps this is an inherent quality of velvet/velour.

Also adding as a bonus below, the purple pants at the Grambler mine closing that appear gray otherwise... the trousers of the day are a tough wear, even on this perfect specimen of manhood they look like sweatpants. Black is def the better choice, or even camel though they can have their issues as well.

[stepfordgoth]

This fucking velour tracksuit is reminding me of playing cheetah girls with my stepsisters when we were kids lol

^notice how each cheetah girl has their own color tracksuit? We never had the cute velour ones, they were just regular sweatpants and hoodie combo in girlie colors but at some point we realized all three of us had our own so obviously we started roleplaying as cheetah girls characters together 🥲

[rustbeltjessie]

Parking lot. Cowboy with a hand in his velour sweatpants moseyed up. Gas pump or happy to see me? I didn’t ask.

—Jessie Lynn McMains, from “Happenings” (Tupelo Press 30/30, Day 16)

Each day’s poems can be found here. My fundraising page for the month is here.

[abbatoirablaze]

Christmas Break, Johnny Storm

Word Count:  641

“Johnny, stop!”

The infamous playboy smiled, keeping his arms locked tightly around you while you giggled, leaning against his chest.

“You know how gorgeous you look right now?” he asked playfully, whispering the compliment against your neck as his heated lips pressed a series of kisses around your sweet spot, “how beautiful you look all lit up by the lights from the tree?   How you’re glowing even without the help of all the little lights we’ve hung up today?”

“Johnny, we have to finish decorating before everyone gets here tomorrow morning!” you teased, “and with how many ‘breaks’ we have had to take to keep your fire…well stoked…we’re not going to get done tonight.”

He smiled, his hands trailing down from your waist to your bare thighs.  You shivered against his natural warmth.  Your body reacted, nipples pebbling while he nipped at your neck.  His sweatshirt, which you had taken during your last exchange when he burned nearly all of your clothes off in an attempt to take a break, was easily a few sizes too big and gave all too easily as he nosed at its collar.

“I’d rather decorate something else, again and again and again…if you haven’t happened to notice,” he purred.  Another shiver ran up your spine at the insinuation.  Your giggles faltered momentarily as you looked over your shoulder, and your eyes met with his azure ones.  It felt like you lost your breath in that moment, while his eyes bore through your very soul, “you okay there, little firefly?  Because if you look at me like that much longer, I know I won’t be able to contain myself…”

“Contain yourself?” you teased, “since when have you ever contained yourself.  You’re like a tornado, Johnny Storm.”

“But when I’m with you, I’m like a moth to a flame!”  

“Like a moth to a flame,” you whimpered, repeating his words.  He partially smiled, leaving you feeling like you wanted to feel more of his touch, and give up on decorating the tree for a little bit longer. His smile returned fully as you shimmied around in his grasp, until he was gently massaging your ass through your cheeky panties.  You moaned when he massaged the globes, leaning in to him.  His lips parted ever so slightly as he leaned forward, and you felt the prominent bulge in his sweatpants that was eagerly poking your hip once again, “Johnny.”

“What is it baby?”

Yet another shiver ran down your spine; your brain hearing the lusty, husky hints in his voice.  His eyes met yours again and you whimpered, your thighs instinctively clenching.  He bit his bottom lip, one hand moving around from your ass to tease your hips.  Your back arched and you felt yourself leaning up on your tiptoes.  His face tilted down, meeting with the tops of your covered breasts. 

With a gentle huff of warm air, the shirt seemed to disintegrate into ash before you, falling away from your skin without hurting you. 

“Johnny.”

“I wanna give you something special for Christmas, baby…” he purred gently. 

Before you could question what he was talking about, he shifted, and you couldn’t feel his bulge against your hip anymore.  Your brow furrowed as he pulled away from you and dropped to one knee.  You gasped, your hands finding your mouth, while your arms covered your bare chest, “Johnny…wh-what are you doing?”

“Make me the happiest man ever,” he began gently, his own eyes watering as he opened a black velour box, “You’ve been my little light in the dark for the better part of a year…you found me when I was at a low in my life, and you made me feel like more than just some playboy…more than a superhero…I want to share my life with you…every part of it and myself…”

“J-Johnny…”

“Marry me, baby…”

[moonchild-in-blue]

It's the middle of the night. The rain is falling down and tapping on the window. The wind is hollering outside. Your house is engulfed by the shadows. You think you're alone, but you're not.

As you lay in bed, soundly asleep after a long night of looking at memes and reading fanfictions of boys kissing, a blurry figure stands by your bed. It towers over your sleeping form, so vulnerable and helpless.

The odd one slowly leans down. You would've felt its breath on your cheek if it had one. Just as slowly, it presses a kiss to your cheek. You will never feel it of course. That's what pains it. It wished you could feel its love on a physical level but it will never be possible. Ever.

Anyway it twerks right next to your face and steals your pants byyyyeeeee

This was so beautiful, and then end. Even more beautifuler 😔💙

---

I call out to it, merely a hushed whisper. Can it hear me? Would it understand me? Does it need more pants? Where did it learn such magnificent dance moves?

The figure is no longer in the room, and I twerk sadly where it stood, a lazy clap of cheeks, wondering if I will ever see it again. A single tear runs down my face, akin to the raindrops racing on the window.

The next morning I make my way to the thrift shop, looking for a special object, determined to make contact with the shadow presence. It takes me a while, but I find. I cartwheel back home, happy with the mission accomplished.

Nightfalls, and the object rests neatly on my desk chair. Maybe the dark figure wouldn't comeback. Maybe it was but a figment of my imagination. An undigested piece of cheese. "No matter", I say to myself. The offering is prepared and I fall asleep.

On the chair, a pair of bright orange velour sweatpants neatly folded rests in eager anticipation. There's a message encrusted with gems on the backside:

"Bootylicious"

[diggity-didge]

Sewing/cosplay tumblr i need y’all’s help!!!! Basically long story short i tried to speedrun my halloween costume and sacrificed a pair of velour sweatpants from the thrift store that i ended up really liking. I used a spray adhesive (Elmer’s specifically if that at all matters) to glue some fabric stars onto the sweatpants. Is there any way to detach the stars and keep the velour not nasty or will i have to take the L of slightly failed D.I.Y??? Google isn’t very helpful💔💔💔

There’s no rush for an answer/fix but I still want to save those pants!!

[artwithoutblood]

I think at home Genny wears those super traditional plaid PJ pants. But also sometimes he mixes it up and wears those 2000s velour sweatpants, the ones that say 'Juicy'. He's a dad and a fashion gorl.

Just going to the kitchen for a drink while rocking the Juicy Couture and a hydrating sheet mask

Eri hates it

Also that is Eri's expensive skincare that Genesis stole

Genesis the kind of guy to come to school in the Cookie Monster pants. He usually wears t-shirts of bygone bands to "sleep."

also slippers for, like, some weird college football team. Genesis uses his own expensive skincare! Because it's fun! He forces Erebus to do it with him.

[dramaturd]

velour sweatpants that say “nice” and “accurate” on each cheek

[chibipwincess]

♥

S P O N S O R E D

ʚ THE KAWAII PROJECT ɞ

⁞ 𐙚 ‣ Blush by { wistaria } // Strawberry Moon ~ Evox @TheKawaiiProject

⁞ 𐙚 ‣ Earmuffs by OPALE . Eco-Fur Headphonest @TheKawaiiProject

ʚ THE KAWAII PROJECT ɞ

‣ Pants & Shoes by Loki - Riley Fluffy Sweatpants @Equal10

────── °.  「 e x t r a ◦ i n f o r m a t i o n 」 .° ──────

── G e n e t i c s

‣ Head: LeLUTKA Briannon Head 3.1 .

‣ Shape: . Yubbi . // Personal Shape .

‣Skin: Heaux + Velour

‣ Eyes: ARTE.

‣ Blush: Cake Inc. + [Utopia]

‣ Body: eBODY - REBORN + Waifu Boobs

‣ Hair: : PADO // sora hair

── N o t ◦ s p o n s o r s

‣ Top: Lunar - Yuki Hoodies & Bodysuit - All Colors (Boxed)

‣ Sparkle Stick: .::IDK::.

[raitrolling]

Cracking Up

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

The tweet was a half-truth at best. Velour did not have any private clients requesting an urgent last-minute commission, but he did need the couple nights off to recover before he could return to his jobs as a fashion designer and YouTuber.

The problem was that the truth was much stranger than fiction.

A notebook sat in the cuspblood’s lap, its cover unassuming from first glance. But if one were to flip it open and read its contents, they would find a series of disjointed thoughts scrawled onto the pages. A combination of facts related to the trolls Velour knew, and what appeared to be snippets from his subconscious mind. Occasionally, new sentences would make their way into the book, without the use of any writing implement.

It was a result of a powerful spell formulated by Jikiro and Hanabi, then cast by Velour, which partitioned off a portion of his natural magic that caused him to passively absorb information from others away from his own mind, and into the book’s pages. Something that had become increasingly more of a concern as his magic grew stronger and he took on more abilities not unlike the kitsune that should have raised him, and knew he needed to find a way to redirect the kinds of magic a troll’s mind would not be able to handle, no matter how drastic the action had to be.

In this case, the redirection spell knocked him out for a full day, and made him feel completely drained of magical energy for even longer.

He had left the Takami estate yesterday, finally feeling capable of getting out of bed and staying awake for more than an hour, but still spent his time at his own hive doing nothing but napping on the couch and snacking on fried tofu. Inexplicably, he always ended up craving that after using his magic, and even more inexplicably, it always helped him recover his energy faster.

Velour knew he had to recover as quickly as possible, otherwise his fans would start to worry about his long absence, and he could only doctor so many scraps of fabric into looking like extreme close-ups of his ‘urgent commission’ using Jikiro’s specialty inks before someone would notice he was lying.

And, judging by the knock on the door, someone did.

“Hey, you’re not dead in there, are you?”

Velour’s anxiety was almost instantly alleviated when he recognised the voice on the other side of the door, and slipped the notebook into his modus before he got up to let his neighbour in.

Aiolos looked none-too-impressed when his eyes met the cuspblood’s, and that sour expression turned to one of shock after he looked Velour up and down.

“Jesus Christ Vel, are those sweatpants? The situation is more dire than I thought.”

“Ah, nice to meet you again too, Aiolos,” Velour smiled sheepishly, brushing a hand against the offending garment in question. “I had some leftover fabric a while ago, so I thought I’d make something cosy to wear on my nights off.”

Aiolos gave him a look like he had just spontaneously grown a second head as he made his way into the apartment, and plopped himself on the couch like he has done hundreds of times in the past.

“I have known you since we were wrigglers, and I know you don’t just take ‘nights off’. You work yourself into a near-nervous breakdown stressing over deadlines weeks in advance! Also, what happened to that urgent client of yours?”

Velour went blank, realising he outed his own lie.

“Ah, well, I’m just… Taking care of my own health! Because this job requires my full attention, so I don’t want to make any mistakes because I’m a bit sleepy!” The kitsune troll clapped his hands together and put on a well-practised smile to try and cover up his blunder.

Aiolos quirked an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “So, can I see the commission?”

Velour’s smile fell, and he sunk back into the couch like he was attempting to become one with it. The other blueblood snorted.

“Yeah, thought so.” He clicked his fingers, then pointed at Velour. “So, alright, spill. What’s got you hiding away from your hoity-toity celebrity schtick? I know this isn’t like you at all, so something’s up.”

Velour paused, looking down at his lap. He couldn’t lie to Aiolos, someone who has known him long enough to see through his lies immediately, but there’s no way in hell he’d believe the truth. He’s always been someone who scoffed at anything even slightly out of the ordinary, and he gave everyone in their old friend group a hard time for the tiniest things. Velour’s love of dolls and being scared of the horror movies they watched together when they were young, Liiore’s shyness and eventual decision to go anon, and Mikiel’s… Everything. 

But, what else could he say? If he just said he was feeling tired, Aiolos would push for a better explanation anyway, regardless of if Velour wanted to give one or not. He’s never been the type to treat someone overly softly, and tends to cover up his concern for others with insistent prickliness. He cares for his friends, but in a way that sometimes disregards their feelings because he refuses to come across as someone capable of being so mushy. 

It reminded him of his own moirail, in a way, but Jamie was much softer towards him. But, if Jamie could wrap his head around magic…

The cuspblood took in a deep breath. 

“You’re not going to believe me, but… I’ve been practicing magic.”

The silence that filled the room was deafening. Even the clock on the wall seemed to have stopped during this exact moment. 

Aiolos opened his mouth, gestured as if he was about to speak, reconsidered, made another vague hand gesture, and then finally opted to put his hand to his forehead.

“Velour.”

“No, I’m telling the truth, I swear!” The kitsune troll held up both hands in a show that he had nothing to hide. “And, well- I’d give you proof, but… The reason why I’m taking time off is because I cast a spell that was so powerful I’ve… Used up all my magical energy for the time being.”

He smiled sheepishly as a small chuckle escaped his mouth. He knew exactly how unbelievable it sounded, but what else was he meant to say?

Aiolos gave him a deadpan look, and there was another long silence before a loud sigh left his mouth. He shook his head.

“Alright. So. Let’s get this straight. You’re taking time off, because you’ve tired yourself out playing with magic. Like full-on, Harry Potter Wizards of Waverly Place magic, which we all know is definitely real.”

Velour averted his eyes.

“And you can’t prove to me that magic is real and you can cast spells, because conveniently you’ve used up all your magical energy?” 

Velour hesitantly nodded, still not giving his neighbour any eye contact.

“And you expect me, your friend who has known you for your entire life, to just believe that you’ve always been a ‘mage’, when you never brought it up before, ever?”

Velour gave another hesitant nod. “Well-”

Aiolos cut him off.

“Magic. Fucking magic! Good lord, what’s next? You have a matesprit, but they live in East Alternia and don’t like photos so I can never meet them in person?”

The look on Velour’s face was evident that he would have liked to correct his friend and tell him that actually it’s his moirail who lives there and it’s only a temporary residency, but knowing that would be a bad idea, he kept his head down and his lips pursed.

Aiolos groaned, throwing his hands up in disbelief, then - to the surprise of the kitsune troll - slapped one of his hands onto Velour’s shoulder. The cuspblood flinched. The other blueblood should have known that was his bad shoulder, but he had other concerns.

“Vel, you need help.” Aiolos’ tone was almost uncharacteristically concerned, had he not been speaking to his childhood friend. “Look, I don’t know what that psycho fish bitch put into your head, but-”

“It- It’s not that!” Velour waved his hand, attempting to calm the other troll down. “I’ve… Gotten over what happened with Veruco, at least as well as anyone could.”

“By what? Playing pretend? Getting really into larping as a wizard? Yeah, real picture of mental health right there, nothing says ‘I got over it’ like telling me you’ve become buddies with Ron Weasley.” The antelope troll scoffed. 

“I… Knew you wouldn’t believe me, but I am telling the truth,” Velour attempted to sound more insistent, but Aiolos has never been the type to back down.

“Uh-huh. Just like how you were telling the truth about your mysterious urgent client? Is he in the room with us right now?” He mockingly looked around as if he was looking for some sort of spectre, and the cuspblood looked down again in shame. “Look, Vel… You’re falling apart. You haven’t had a break from your own life since you were six, and now look at you. Getting caught getting cosy with your creepy fans and needing to make an apology video for it, believing in magic like a wriggler, hiding away in your hive and dressing like you’re just about to settle down for a sad romantic movie marathon while crying into a tub of ice-cream… As your friend, I gotta keep it real with you. Take a longer break, and get help, or I’ll make you get help.”

Velour scrunched up his face. He couldn’t deny that a lot has gone wrong in his life, and yet he kept trundling on trying to pick up the pieces as they fell. A break would be well-deserved, but… An extended hiatus would bring rumours and speculation about his current mental health, it would cause discourse amongst his fans that he wouldn’t be able to control, the media and paparazzi would get involved, and it would just explode way out of proportion.

Not to mention, apart from his current exhaustion, he felt completely fine. In fact, this has been the most content he’s been in sweeps. 

He shook his head.

“Thanks for worrying about me, Aiolos. But I’ll be fine after a few days, so I don’t think I need the break.”

Aiolos looked at him, then out of the corner of his eye spied Velour’s phone sitting on the coffee table. He smirked.

“Fine. We’re doing it my way, then.”

In a single moment, Aiolos had jumped up from the couch, swiped the phone off the table, and then bolted to the other side of the room to make space between himself and his childhood friend. Velour made a panicked noise that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a fox-like yip.

“Aiolos! What- Give that back!” He got off the couch as well, making a move towards Aiolos.

The blueblood snickered as he unlocked the phone.

“Oh my god, your password is still Liiore’s wriggling day?” He jeered, as he began furiously typing up a tweet from Velour’s account.

Velour visibly paled.

“I- I was going to change it, but it’s an easy combination to remember! It’s muscle memory, okay?” 

He made a grab for the phone in Aiolos’ hands, but the antelope troll was quicker, nimbly dodging Velour and dancing around him to reach the other side of the room, still typing away at the same time. He was clearly mocking the much slower troll.

“Aiolos, please. You don’t know what you’re doing,” Velour looked over at him, becoming increasingly more worried.

“Yeah, I do. It’s called helping you, because you’ve never been able to help your own damn self without watching everything blow up in your face,” The other troll grinned, but there was a judgmental tinge in his tone.

Velour continued to chase him around the room, Aiolos ducking and weaving around furniture with the phone still firmly in his hand, while Velour was struggling to keep up. Then, in a last ditch effort, he made a lunge for the blueblood, and tackled him to the ground.

“Hey-! Hey! What the hell are you doing, you fucking psychopath?” Aiolos tried to shove Velour off him, but he had already grabbed the blueblood’s wrist to move his hand away.

“Just- Aiolos! Give back my phone!” He whined, and desperately made a grab for it with his free hand, only to be kicked by one of Aiolos’ flailing legs. 

“I told you, I’m doing this for your own good! Besides- Ow!” Aiolos was cut off by Velour accidentally smacking him in the face mid-wrestle.

“Sorry!” The kitsune troll apologised, but was quickly back to trying to pry his neighbour’s fingers off the phone. “But, seriously! You don’t understand!”

“You don’t understand, you idiot!”

The two trolls continued to squabble, just like they were children once again. Velour didn’t like doing this, it reminded him too much of what happened between him and Mikiel, but he didn’t know how else to stop Aiolos. The blueblood kept up a good fight, but didn’t have to for long as the cuspblood was suddenly stopped in his tracks by a sound.

Both his phone and his computer lit up and rang out a notification tone. Then another. Then another. Quickly, it was becoming a cacophony of beeps and boops.

Velour froze, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded. Aiolos took this opportunity to shove the cuspblood off him, and Velour barely reacted to getting knocked over.

“Aiolos, did you…?”

Aiolos sighed loudly, picking himself up off the floor.

“I sent the tweet before you tackled me, dumbass. What do you think I was doing while I was running around?” He replied, exasperated. 

Oh no.

Oh no no no. 

With the amount of notifications flooding in, all his social media pages must be getting inundated with messages from his fans. Not to mention any emails or messages from the media that are certain to follow. What is he meant to do? He can’t just rescind the statement and go ‘haha, sorry! My neighbour posted that :)’ because that would raise even more questions and make his fans lose faith in him for joking about something so serious. But… There’ll be so many rumours, so much speculation, so many interviews and people hounding him for more information, he’d have to make a statement, pretend that he really did have a breakdown and needed the time off, try to reassure his fans that he’s fine now while knowing that every word, every movement will be closely scrutinised as people try to figure out what’s wrong with him…

He felt sick to his stomach.

Aiolos watched his neighbour shudder, struggle to breathe, and fight his way out of a full breakdown. There is a look of regret on his face, but before Velour can notice it, he swallows down those feelings and covers it up with a judgmental frown. He can’t admit that he was wrong now.

“You’ll thank me later,” He said, but in a way that almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead.

Velour wasn’t sure he would.

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

・°♢ Velour💙 💎 ✨ Charms restocking soon!♢°・ @.velveteenVanities  Taking an indefinite hiatus due to mental health concerns, further updates coming soon.  263 replies - 8.8k retweets - 20.2k likes

[cutiecatsub]

@erotic-echo tagged me to post some ootd-type pics (also ur smile is cute af shut up!!!)

prepare for shitty selfies hehe

Ft me doing laundry and wishing I had thigh highs that went up to my thighs, me being an Actual Dad (pocket pens and all, does that shirt make my tits look gay?), and me serving GMILF energy wearing very sexy velour sweatpants

I tag @sacrificethelamb @xulme and @distantsonata (if you want! don’t feel any pressure) and whoever wants to. My moots are all certified cutie pies. 💙

[starrypawz]

Hear me out

Y2K Juicy Couture inspired velour sweatpants in black but they have 'Spooky' written on the butt