James Finally Reacted To Moo By Doja Cat!!

Hot damn!!😍😭👅💋

NING ZE TAO

http://hot-namjas.tumblr.com

I can read smut straight faced but this made me have the perviest grin ever!

Day 3 - Overstimulation - Elliot Alderson x Reader

I’m a day late because this fic is so fucking long. Elliot does you a favor, and things get a little hot afterwards. For someone as touch starved as I assume Elliot is, a sudden rush of physical pleasure has got to be near unbearable, but he wants it. 3.3k words also elliot is asexual

“What do you want me to do?” You asked after a stretch of anxious silence. He moved his grip up to your arm and stroked his thumb across the skin of your wrist silently.

“What you’re supposed to do, when you feel like this,” he muttered, focusing intently on your forearm to avoid looking at you.

“What… would that be?” you inquired slowly, and he heaved a shaky breath.

“How should I know?” he huffed, and when he glanced up at you, you could see a small smile on his face. “You’re supposed to be the normal one.”

You hadn’t meant to, but you had fallen asleep at Elliot’s place. You realized as soon as you woke up to the sound of him methodically tapping at his keyboard a few feet from you, the dim blue glow of his computer the only light in the room. You sat up immediately, dazed and feeling sheepish. You only remembered sitting on his mattress, had you really dozed off so easily? You dimly noticed there was a blanket over you, and you wondered if you had pulled it over yourself. You checked the clock - 5:12am. Elliot must have been up all night.

If Elliot heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it; he just continued to work. You ignored the glow of his computer as it strained your eyes, and pulled yourself off the bed, walking up behind him. He minimized a window of code as soon as you had view of it, setting his computer back to his desktop quickly. He turned towards you slightly, avoiding your gaze.

“I’m sorry that I fell asleep,” you offered in apology, embarrassed. Elliot nodded once, slightly, but said nothing. You let the silence hang for a moment, unsure of what to say.

“It’s done.” he finally spoke, his voice soft. You felt your shoulder twitch - a nervous tick. You were anxious to know what he had found when during his digging, and you waited as he pulled out a cd with the information.

“What’s on it?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted the answer.

“The information you wanted,” he said flatly, and you drew your breath. You turned the cd over in your hands, examining it as if just looking at it would reveal what it held.

“Is it… bad?” You were hesitant to know this answer, and Elliot surely heard it in your voice. He cocked his head towards you slightly, and then pulled open a browser window. He sat back slightly and you leaned in, nervously reading the police report he had found. Your face fell into a frown - the report was for your new boss, a sexual assault charge that had been scrubbed. Your heart sank, but you were, in a sense, glad that you knew before moving along with this new job. You dug your fingernails into the back of Elliot’s chair as you seethed, and he watched you out of the corner of his eye quietly. When you realized he was watching you came back out of your rage, letting out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding in.

“Thank you,” you said to him, although it sounded ingenuine. You took a deep breath and tried again, your voice uneven. “Really, thank you. I needed to know this.” Elliot remained silent for a moment as you backed away from his computer, the disc still in your hand. He turned to face you, and you couldn’t see the look on his face once he was angled away from the computer screen.

“What will you do with it?” he asked, nodding at the disc. You looked down at it, considering, before chuckling and shaking your head.

“What can I do? It’s obvious no one cared; I’ll just have to… find a new job.” You deflated a bit, disappointed. This job had taken you long enough to find, and Elliot knew that too. He was the one who had given you the classified sections of his paper every week when he knew you were looking, slid them under your apartment door. He had been embarrassed when you caught him, but seemed grateful when you thanked him. You knew you could rely on him when it came to this, hacking your boss when you told him you had an awful feeling about him. Elliot was more than trustworthy enough for that - for a price, of course.

“How much do I owe you, then?” you asked, moving back towards the bed to fish your wallet out of your purse.

“Fifty,” he replied softly, and you stopped to look at him.

“It was a hundred the last time, wasn’t it?” you asked, and he looked away.

“Friendly discount,” he offered, his voice flat. He ran a hand through his hair, still refusing to look in your direction. “A loyalty perk.” You had to chuckle at that one, and he glanced over to you quickly.

“What, am I going to find another vigilante hacker to pry into the lives of powerful people on just a hunch? Out of the goodness of his heart?” You asked in jest, and you swore the corner of his mouth twitched up, if only for a second.

“Come on, let me pay you the full price - you let me sleep in your bed, after all.” You walked towards him, holding out a couple of twenties. He reached for you, but passed the bill to instead touch your wrist.

“Pay me later, when you have another job,” he insisted, casting his gaze downward. “Make sure you can pay rent this month.” You cringed - you hated when he did that, reminded you that he could see your life online too. He was right though, you barely had enough to keep your place.

“You could always… crash here if you needed to,” he offered, his voice growing softer as he spoke. You let out a nervous laugh and he twitched a bit. He pulled his hand away with a sharp motion, and you reached out to grab it. He cringed when you touched him, continuing to draw back from you. You realized your mistake and let him, your grip going limp so he could pull out of it.

“Sorry, I forgot - no touching,” you apologized immediately, but Elliot surprised you by not pulling completely away. Instead, he began relaxing after a second - his fingers losing tension as they pressed against yours.

“Sometimes,” he began, a murmur, before looking off to the side and running his hand nervously through his hair again. “Sometimes… I don’t mind… so much.” You raised an eyebrow at him, and you felt him tremble once, lightly, in your hand.

“Okay, let me know when it’s okay for me to-”

“I want it to be-” He cut you off, but stopped speaking abruptly. He let out a labored breath, clearly struggling with what he wanted to say. “It has nothing to do with you, it’s… I want to be okay when you touch me.” You weren’t sure how to respond to that, and he fidgeted nervously.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked after a stretch of anxious silence. He moved his grip up to your arm and stroked his thumb across the skin of your wrist silently.

“What you’re supposed to do, when you feel like this,” he muttered, focusing intently on your forearm to avoid looking at you. You were unsure of what he wanted you to say, what the right answer would be. You had seen him get anxious like this before, and in rare occasions he had lashed out as a result. But now felt different, skewed more positively, and you felt comfortable pushing him for information.

“What… would that be?” you inquired slowly, and he heaved a shaky breath.

“How should I know?” he huffed, and when he glanced up at you, you could see a small smile on his face. “You’re supposed to be the normal one.” You were at a loss for words at this one, and resorted to just softly saying Elliot’s name as you looked at each other. His nostrils flared as he let out a deep breath and, unblinking, he rose towards you.

His lips met yours softly at first, both of you hesitating. They rested against each other until you finally moved, bringing them fully into his in a gentle kiss. It was a few moments still until Elliot began to kiss you back, his mouth moving slowly against yours. Just when you were about to try to speed up he pulled away, turning to the side and muttering a curse under his breath. Before you could question him he turned towards you again, catching your lips with a deeper kiss than before. You met his enthusiasm, bringing your hand up to cup the side of his face. He flinched hard at this, his mouth and nose bumping yours, but didn’t pull away. In fact, he stood, lips still locked with yours, and let his body brush slightly against yours. He placed both his hands firmly on your hips as if he was your date to a middle school dance, and continued to kiss you until you finally had to pull back for some air. His hands balled into fists as you drew your head away, rooting your hips to their spot against him. He seemed confused, leaned towards you to kiss him again, and you pressed your forehead against his while you caught your breath. Your other hand snaked its way into his hair and he whined, the sound reverberating against you with his proximity.

“What do you want?” you asked him, implying that whatever happened next was up to him. He huffed instead of replying at first, pressing his forehead harder into yours. Just before you were about to speak again, he finally answered you.

“I don’t mind,” he said, the slightest hint of strain in his voice, “if you want it, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not an answer,” you said carefully, hoping it didn’t set him off. He whined again, and his hands tugged at the fabric clenched within them.

“I don’t really… I don’t…” he started, and you could hear the panic starting to creep into his speech. You ran your thumb along his cheek reflexively to sooth him, and he pressed ever so slightly into your touch.

“I don’t usually… crave… this sort of thing,” he admitted, wavering a bit. “But if you want it, I don’t mind.”

“What about what you want?” you asked, and Elliot turned towards your hand on his cheek, moving so your thumb grazed over his lips instead. He sighed, though labored, and shivered a bit before he answered.

“Just touch me,” he pleaded, and you obliged. You kissed at his jaw until he turned back to meet you with his lips. You brought your hands down to his chest, rubbing over it through his shirt, and slowly moved to shrug his hoodie off him. He stiffened when he first realized you were trying to undress him, but you whispered that he was all right against his mouth until he relaxed. He let you take his hoodie off before he tugged up a bit at your shirt, and you broke away from him to let him pull it over your head. He ran his hands along your bare skin, twitching slightly, before pulling his own shirt off and pressing himself against you. He shivered hard when your skin hit his; his arms slowly wrapped around you and pulled you even closer. When he was pushed against you, you could feel how hard he was, and you squeezed your hand between your bodies to rub him through his jeans. He gasped loudly into your shoulder, first reflexively pulling away from the contact, and then pressing into your hand once he had his bearings. He fumbled with your bra behind your back, looking over your shoulder as he tried to unclasp it. Once he worked it off he tossed it aside, and he trembled when he pressed himself into your bare chest again. You gasped when he moved against you, rubbing your nipples with his skin, and he whined low in his throat with appreciation.

“Touch me,” he pleaded with you again, more desperate than the first time. You moved to slide your hand under his pants and he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“You first,” he demanded, and you conceded, moving away from him slightly to pull down your jeans and panties. He stared at you for a beat or two, his eyes raking over you, until you felt self conscious and moved towards him. He stepped back, but then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as if he was reminding himself what was happening. He turned from you, pulled off his own pants, and knelt down on the bed. After a moment he looked back at you, and you tentatively moved towards him. He laid down as you lowered yourself, and you lay down next to him, wondering what you should do next. Elliot brushed his fingers against yours and you took this as a sign to continue, rolling towards him to kiss him. He slotted his arm under you and his other hand landed at your hip, his fingers trembling slightly before they fully made contact with your skin. He let you slide your tongue into his mouth, kissing back hesitantly at first. He pulled at your back a little and you shifted into him, pushing your body against his. He moaned slightly into your mouth at the contact, and you felt his cock twitch against your leg. The movement made you hot, and you reached down to stroke him again.

He practically cried out when you gripped him, but this time he didn’t pull away. He pressed his face against yours, whimpering as you slowly ran your fingers up and down him. Precum dribbled out of the head of his cock, and you ran your thumb through it. He yelped when you rubbed his head, but pushed his cock back into your hand when you pulled away, even though his face appeared to be screwed up in pain.

“Touch me,” he whined again, rutting himself against your hand. You gripped him once more and he moaned, his head rolling back. You wanted badly for him to touch you back, but doubted he would be very effective, with all his trembling and twitching.

“I want to fuck you, Elliot,” you confessed, and he whimpered in reply. “Will you be okay with that?” you pressed further, and he nodded, still thrusting into your grasp.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him, releasing his cock in an attempt to get him to pay you attention. He whimpered more, but reached for his dresser, rummaging around in a lower drawer before producing one. He fumbled with it at first, his fingers trembling, and even though he finally unwrapped it he was unable to still his hands long enough to roll it on. You put your fingers over his gently to stop him before taking it yourself. He gasped when you held him steady and rolled it on, his head rolling back onto his mattress. He seemed to have no desire to move once you had done this, and after realizing this you climbed into his lap yourself.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” you asked again, and once more he nodded. You sat yourself forward, grabbing him behind you, and slowly lowered yourself down on his dick. He howled as you did this, a long, high moan that rung in his empty apartment, his voice wavering louder or lower as you sank and took more of him inside you. He was nearly writing when you were flush against his hips, devolved to shivers and whimpers as his cock twitched inside you. You waited for him to settle down before you lifted off him a bit, but even that slight movement made him shake.

“God Elliot, does it really feel that good?” you asked, incredulous. He jerked his head in a nod, a whine leaving his mouth.

“Please don’t stop,” he pleaded, though his speech came out strangled. “Please keep moving.” You settled back down against him again and kept moaning, his cries becoming shorter and more frequent as you moved more quickly. A faster pace felt good for you too, and you steadied yourself by placing your hands on his chest while you bounced. Elliot’s constant movement meant his cock was continually twitching inside you, allowing it to press at a new point inside you every time you came down on him. It wasn’t long before you were moaning along with him, his dick seeming to reach deeper inside you with each thrust.

Elliot squirmed under you, his torso twisting and his hands gripping at the sheets. The sight made you just as wet as his cock inside you did, and as you edged closer to release you brought your hand down to rub yourself. He let out another labored cry as you tightened around him, bucking against you hard as he wiggled around.

Suddenly Elliot sat up, bringing his body flush against yours. He wrapped his arms around you, tugging you as close to him as he could get you to be. His head rolled onto your shoulder as you grinded yourself against him, moving as much as you could in his lap. Elliot whimpered and whined and gasped, jerking constantly both outside and inside you. You rested your hands on his shoulders, your fingers caressing his neck, and you could almost feel his blood pulsing in his veins under them. You could feel your orgasm coming as Elliot began to claw at your back, and he started trying to talk as you got tighter.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he started chanting, forcing words out of himself in labored gasps. “Please don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.” In all your moving and rubbing you didn’t have time to echo him, but you moaned out as your orgasm hit you, rolling your hips into his as you squeezed him rhythmically. He twitched in you harder then, still repeating he was going to cum. He wiggled under you, twisting this way and that until finally he came with a shout, bucking and writhing. As good as your orgasm felt, Elliot’s looked better - though, he could have also been mistaken for looking like he was in excruciating pain. Maybe he was, as he continued to whimper even as he stilled, sheened with sweat and looking as if he were about to cry. He let himself fall back against the bed, releasing you so you remained sitting in his lap.

“Are you all right?” you asked him, and he gave you a small nod, his gaze fixed on his ceiling. You attempted to lift yourself to get off him and he cried out sharply, as if he were in pain. You apologized, trying to move as slowly as possible, but Elliot’s face still screwed up as you lifted yourself off his cock. He made no motion to get up so you began cleaning up yourself, piling clothes around for easy morning dressing to start. You also fetched him a hand towel you ran under cold water, pressing it to his hot, sticky skin. He flinched slightly at first, but soon sighed into it, taking it with his own hands and pressing it to where he needed to cool down. You took the condom off him yourself, grimacing as he hissed in pain at you touching him.

“I know El, but I have to,” you told him, and he only wheezed in response. After you disposed of it you were unsure of what to do next, standing near his bed still naked.

“We’re good, you know,” Elliot suddenly said, startling you. “For the hack, all squared up.” You laughed, nerves that had tensed relaxing themselves.

“I don’t know Elliot, I think you might owe me some money after that one,” you teased, and he smiled a bit. Just as you were about to move to grab your clothes, he reached an arm out towards you.

“Stay,” he croaked, and he looked like he was caught between wanting you there and wanting to not want you. But you obliged anyway, because it was what you wanted too. Again you laid down next to him in his bed, but this time he made no move to pull you against him, and you gave him his space. He seemed to doze off, and just as the sun was starting to come up, he moved his hand out to brush his fingers against yours, a final shiver running over his body.

Rosepetal Manor, Neverwinter.

Mushroom witch and her little mushroom friends

I ain't going to say she's wrong...

Like, for real?

It sucks when you can’t even enjoy reading a readers insert when it’s only catered to white people.

Like, it’s a readers insert, I shouldn’t have to read shit like, “you’re long blonde hair laid perfectly on your shoulder..”

“You’re face turns a bright red in embarrassment..”

“Your long, tanned slender legs caught my attention..”

“His mouth moved from one breast to another. Your pink nipples perk as his goes..”

This list goes on and it’s annoying.

“If it bothers you so much why don’t you just make your own fics?!”

It’s simple. I shouldn’t have too! If this fandom is truly for everyone, then everyone should be included! Point blank. And let’s not forget that when WOC actually do go out and write their own fics catering to WOC, whether big or small, they get hate message from anons[because they’re to pussy to say it off anon] who think that [Insert Character] wouldn’t be with a WOC. I’ve been follow @wildaboutchrisevans for a while now and I’ve seen the hate that they get for writing fics about a WOC. The same thing happened with @black-mcu-imagines @blackityblackfamdomheadcanons and so on and so forth.

It seems like people are trying to push WOC out of the fandom but when we create our own then we’re called racist and a whole bunch of other shit for making fics for WOC.

I shouldn’t even be making this post but apparently I have to because y’all just aren’t getting it because when you write something, especially a readers insert, and you purposely add a description of the reader [insert hair, eyes, skin color] into the mix then it’s not a readers insert but a fic for white women. If I read a tilt like, “You’re [insert white character] sister..” then I’m already out before I even get a chance to read it.

I know that there are some writers out there who are trying to do better for all the fandom but there are still some out there who refuse to write for WOC because they’re not one themselves. Like, google is free and so are blogs on here that are dedicated to WOC, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t mind answering any questions.

If this fandom is really for everybody then fucking start acting like it!

And that’s that on that.

y’all: peter was able to stop bucky’s fist in civil war bc bucky heard peter’s voice, realized he was a child, then weakened his punch bc he was so worried about hurting a child uwu

me, eating pistachios: y’all know peter can canonically lift up to 75 tons, right. y’all know bucky’s fist is easy as hell for peter to block, right. y’all know bucky didn’t know shit about peter being a child and was just shocked that someone was able to so easily block his punch, right. y’all know that, right.

there is a person in your life and your just „How did i deserve her/him“

anime: Bakemono no ko 💞