#aging spitefully

[celestialbruise]

PIDW time travel fic where after dying Shen Jiu wakes up in the past, after the ling xi caves and his subsequent qi deviation, with a chance to change his fate. Bingge also wakes up in his fourteen year old body, memories fully intact. Now, instead of actually changing their ways Bingjiu just try to kill each other in increasingly violent, hilarious ways

[sheaymin]

we love a good triple a game functional at launch

[arundolyn]

Waiter! Waiter! More venom strive gifs please!!!

yall really gotta learn if you send me any asks about gifs at all im just not doing them. just because of this im not posting anything for at least two months now congrats. do not bug me about gifs in asks im sick of it learn to read

[turtleshelf]

I need more fics about the batkids school lives and from the perspective of their teachers and I need them now. Fuck it, put some of them on IEPs, I think that shit would be so good.

Give me Damian where when putting him in school, Dick and Babs have to fudge some (not completely inaccurate) diagnosis' to get him put on an IEP and in the behavior classroom so he can have social skills education literally built into his day. So that he has a small classroom setting of other kids with their own problems so he doesn't feel so singled out by his own like he would in gen ed classes. Him slowly integrating into not just American society but also into interacting with kids his own age with the safety net of the behavior classroom and teachers that are literally designed and trained for kids who lose their composure and lash out to fall back on. He's disliked or written off by most teachers as a behavior case, but there's are a few who hold a soft spot for him, he likes to gift them art.

Give me Jason on an IEP because of how much school he missed when he was homeless, being given the tools and resources to catch back up to where he should be. Show him being quiet and keeping his head down trying to catch up. The first time he gets in a fight he was defending a younger student, he cries in the office afterwards, and privately none of the staff can really blame him even if they do have to follow through with a consequence for the fight. Show him reserved and jumpy when health class moves into their unit about drugs, he comes in with Bruce the next day to talk to the principal and is excused to the office with a alternative assignments until they move onto their next unit. Teachers tend to like him, and they're always a little surprise when he gets into fights.

Give me Dick in an ELL (English Learn Language, program for students learning English) program that allows him to slow down and get a grip on the basics of the English language. Give him accommodations that translate his assignments into a language he already knows, so he doesn't have to spend hours attempting to translate his homework and then translate his answers. Show him being reserved at first, then popular and smiley and kind until something ignites his short fuse. Show his growth of the short fuse getting longer as he gets better control of his emotions and learns time and place. Teachers don't know what to make of him, sometimes it's like he's a completely different person day to day. He's got this little troublemaker smile that tilts dangerously on his lips before a fight, his teachers think he's either going to run the world or destroy it one day.

Give me Steph whose school has to go on lock out because her father who doesn't have custody shows up and attempts to check her out for the day. Give her fidget toys and break passes. Show her spitefully doing assignments for teachers that don't like her so well that they have to give her an A: "Oh you think The Great Gatsby is the best book ever written? Here's my essay on why it's the worst book ever written and should stop being taught in schools." The arguments are sound, her writing is flawless, her sources are bulletproof. Most teachers don't have much of an opinion on her, she just another popular girl to them, but there are a few that are with her during the father debacle, who saw are angry and sad and scared, who hold a soft spot for her.

Give me Tim who keeps his head down and turns his work in late on crumpled and stained papers, but it's all flawless work. He shows up after three days absent with deep circles under his eyes and a shallow smile and explanations for his absence that are just sound enough that they can't poke any real holes in them, even if most don't believe him. He's friends with the rowdy, popular kids but he's always careful to keep just to the sidelines of their trouble so he never gets taken down with them in consequences. His teachers whisper about the disorganized genius who they hope gets himself together, because he could do great things.

Give me Duke who's snarky and quick thinking, but comes in some days quiet and with a far away look on his face. His best grades are in PE and it drives his teachers crazy because he's smart enough to honor roll if he ever put the effort into his work, it just doesn't seem to interest him. Give him accommodations that he can't be cold called on in class and never has to present presentations because he doesn't do well being the center of attention. He's always fidgeting and looking at the clock like he has somewhere better to be, he disappears to the library every lunch.

Give me Cass, who nobody can seem to really pin down. She's so startlingly unobtrusive that her teachers often forget she's there until she's standing right infront of their faces. She doesn't talk and from her writing it's clear that she's not familiar with English even if she can get by. The first time anyone hears her voice, Bruce picked her up from school early and she bounces over to him calling "Dad" before giving him a hug, the office staff feel a ripple of shock travel through them as they realize that it's not that she can't talk it's that she doesn't. She gets pulled out of classes for ASL tutoring, but not speech therapy which causes a few raised eyebrows after the revelation that she is capable of speaking. She looks at people with this intensity that makes them feel like she's looking straight through them and most teachers won't admit it, but it freaks them out.

Give me batkids with preferential seating accommodations so they never have to sit somewhere they feel exposed and unsafe. Give them early transition accommodations so they're not caught in the crowded halls during passing periods. Give them phone accommodations, so they always have a direct line to Bruce/Alfred/their siblings. Give them extended test taking accommodations, because once you've literally defused a bomb or raced across the city to stop a murderous meglomaniac doing things on a time constraint is just, not good.

For angst, give them teachers/subs who "don't believe in accommodations" and put end up putting the batkids in bad situations. Give them panic attacks when their accommodations are violated.

Give me teachers gossiping about the batkids and their odd quirks in the office or during their planning period. Give me first year teachers who flounder trying to figure those kids out and veteran teachers to just can't make heads or tails of them. Teachers marveling about how they can all be so alike while sharing absolutely no DNA. It becomes common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is a little less "Brucie" than he'd like the media to believe, but hell that's his business, and he seems to be doing alright by his kids. Give me haggard parents Bruce and Dick getting called to speak with the principal, or in IEP meetings, or at parent-teacher conferences.

Idk I just feel like this is a really untapped market we could be writing for here and I love outsider pov fics so much.

[zorosdimples]

꒰ FUSHIGURO TOJI X READER ꒱

cw: cheesy! age gap. slightly suggestive. brief sex toy mention. nicknames “kid” and “kiddo” used. reader and toji are neighbors and reader is shorter than toji. based on my earlier admission. wc: 782. notes: this was written so quickly and is cringe—please forgive me!

“Got another package of yours, kiddo.”

Toji stands outside of your apartment, a brown shipping box perched in his palms. You scowl, holding the door open with your hip before wordlessly turning around and leaving. He catches the door before it slams in his face, and—taking your silent cue—steps inside and kicks off his slides. 

He follows you to your cramped kitchen, chuckling when you yank the box from his grasp and scurry off to put it in your bedroom. When you return, he has already made himself comfortable on your couch; spitefully, you don’t offer him a beverage (not that he minds). You stiffly settle on the armchair beside him. 

“So,” Toji breaks the silence, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rises with the movement, a sliver of his waist on display, a thicket of jet hair barely visible. For a moment, your mind wanders—creeping along his happy trail, envisioning where it leads…

His gravelly, lazy voice interrupts your thoughts, and your focus snaps back to his face. “What’d you buy?”

“None of your business.” You pretend to pick at a cuticle. While you’re still upset with him, you aren’t playing coy; he doesn’t need to know what you ordered. It isn’t his business.  

Toji rests one of his hands against his head, looking at you curiously. “What’s with the attitude?” 

For the first time since he walked in, you look him in the eyes. His irises are lush and verdant—easy to get lost in. And they sparkle with mirth. Your frustration with him reaches a boiling point, but you do your best to bring it down to a simmer. “Why can’t you treat me like an adult? For fuck’s sake, I’m almost thirty.”

A smirk tucks itself in the corner of his lips like a secret. “I’ve got two decades on you, kid.”

“Okay. So by your logic, I should start calling you ‘old man’—is that right?”

He shrugs before spreading his legs wider and crossing his arms. “If you want to.”

“God you’re so…” you rub your temples and try to calm yourself with a deep breath. “You’re so indifferent.”

He scoffs. “Is that right?”

You nod. “Either that or you’re fucking clueless.”

“Clueless,” he repeats, like he’s tasting the word on his tongue. It irks you that your words don’t stoke the embers of his anger. 

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself. You brace your hands on your knees. “Still wanna know what I ordered, Toji?”

“I’m all ears, kiddo.”

“A vibrator.”

For a split second, you think he’s going to crack. But your confession simply wipes any and all playfulness from Toji’s expression. He stands up from the couch abruptly, brows knit, jade eyes sharp with an emotion you’re afraid to place. 

“You really shouldn’t—” he swallows dryly when you approach him, blocking his exit. 

“I shouldn’t what? Be an adult and buy what I want?”

He shakes his head, murmuring, “Shouldn’t tell me something like that.”

“Why?” 

He's pinned beneath your earnest stare, a needle piercing each of his wings, holding him in place. Does he continue to struggle, to risk upsetting you, to risk harming himself? Or does he give in despite his reservations? A flash of pink darts between his lips as he wets them. “Because…”

“Because what?”

Too close, he thinks to himself, your body inches from his own. The way your chest heaves and your fingers fidget nervously at your sides—it’s too much, too close.

“Because I can’t keep acting like I’m not fucking attracted to you!” he snarls, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Do you have any idea how hard this has been on me? Pretending like I don’t live next door to the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and—”

A laugh bubbles in your throat. Once it floats past your lips, it pops—you can’t contain it. Your laughter rings through the dull walls of your apartment, and while Toji wants to be irritated, the sound is infectious; it makes his heart flutter like a damn schoolboy’s. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks. 

You smile up at him as your hands (small, cold, and soft) find his (large, warm, and scarred). “Give in, Toji. It’s okay. You know I want you—I don’t think I can make my intentions any more obvious.”

He sighs deeply, but pulls you closer. “I’m old and I—”

Interrupting him, you tease, “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.”

He stares at you hard for what feels like an eternity before leaning in, forehead brushing against yours. “Well,” he clears his throat, “this old man wants to kiss you. Can he?”

Despite yourself, your heart soars. “I thought he’d never ask.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

School

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You have a bad first day

The school is fancy.

It's private (the only one that Magda and Pernille could find on short notice) and you get put into a fancy uniform.

Magda thinks that a school blazer is too much for such a little girl to be wearing but it was the uniform policy so she bought it. You look incredibly grown up, perhaps too grown up for the little baby that used to sleep in her arms and cry when she hid your dummy.

Now though, she's the one crying.

"Magda," Pernille whispers," Smile. You're going to make her cry too."

Magda doesn't really think you need her help for that. You cling to her hand tightly, scuffing the ground with your fancy new shoes. You flinch every time a child goes past you and you worry your bottom lip with your teeth.

Magda puts on the biggest, fakest smile she can manage and tries to look encouraging.

You give her a weak smile back before shuffling forward and then back towards her again.

"Hallo!" A stern looking woman says from the classroom door.

"Hallo," You whisper back.

Magda stiffens when the woman gives you an odd look. She knows why though. You speak German very well but on certain words, you have the tiniest of accents and it's clear that this woman picks up on it.

Magda tightens her grip on you as Pernille talks to the teacher.

"Hey," She says," I love you."

You look towards the classroom where kids your age are running about and screaming.

"Don't want to," You whisper," Morsa, I don't want to."

"I know," She says," I don't want you too either but we're both going to be very brave and get through today."

"No," You say," No, I don't want to be brave. I want to go home." The little crinkle in your brow appears and your bottom lip wobbles.

"It's okay," Pernille joins you both now, cupping your face and smoothing out your crinkle," Just a few hours and then we'll pick you up and we'll go back to training."

You sniffle. "I want to go to training now."

"I know," Pernille says," But you've got school first."

You huff and look back at the classroom and the stern lady waiting for you.

"The sooner you start school, the sooner you can leave," Morsa promises you and that's enough to get you moving.

Two hours into your school day, you decide that you don't like it at all.

Your classmates are mean and the little boy who sits next to you pulls your hair and spits. It's very gross.

Your teacher isn't nice either. You don't think she likes you either. She's kind of mean and speaks very quickly to you as if to catch you out with something.

Your German is good and Momma and Morsa have been teaching you to read at home but it's a little slower reading in German than your other languages.

You know you can read Swedish and Danish well because Momma and Morsa focus on that at home and you can read English too because sometimes Jessie and Niamh would help you while you sat on the bench with them.

You didn't really have anyone to read German with but you know how to read in your other languages so it's kind of the same and all you need to do is sound out the words.

You don't know why she's picking on you because everyone else is struggling too. It's not your fault.

"We speak German here. Not English," She says a bit spitefully but, strangely, in English when you pass her for breaktime.

That makes an icky feeling appear in your stomach and you sit by yourself at break on the playground.

Your other classmates seem to have picked up on the weird atmosphere your teacher has created around you because nobody comes to play with you.

You've never really had much interaction with kids your age so you're not too sure whether you should invite yourself into someone else's game or wait for them to invite you. You don't want to make people not like you more.

So, you sit at the very edge of the playground and dig at some weeds with a stick. You want to go and play football with the boys but you saw them turn away another girl who wanted to play earlier so you stay far away.

Your day doesn't really get better because after break your teacher is still very mean and she gets an annoyed and somewhat angry look on her face when you burst into tears.

She sends you by yourself to the reception lady, who takes one look at you and gives you tissues to dry your face before calling Momma and Morsa.

The receptionist woman is nice and you wish she was your teacher instead of the mean woman because she shares half her chocolate bar with you while you wait.

Momma and Morsa come quickly, still in their training kits and you burst back into tears all over again.

You curl yourself into Momma and sob. "Don't want to do school anymore," You choke out," Don't make me. No more!"

Momma hushes you softly, tucking you into her so you have some semblance of privacy. She picks you up too as Morsa spits venom at the poor reception lady who, quite graciously, accepts it in her stride.

"So mean," You explain to Momma as you both sit in the car," She's so mean. Momma, she's picking on me." You tug off your blazer and pull at your shirt. "I don't want to go back."

"I know you don't," Momma says," But-"

"No!"

Morsa opens the door and slams herself into her seat in annoyance. "That foul, foul, pathetic excuse for a teacher," She bites out," I told you, didn't I, Pernille? That I got bad vibes off her?!"

"I know, Magda," Momma says quietly," Let's just get back to training and discuss it tonight..." She jerks her head towards you and you know that means this conversation will be had when you're in bed and asleep.

You wish they would include you but you also know that this conversation will be long and boring with lots of adult topics that will probably get confusing.

"Hey," Morsa says, wiggling your knee as Momma starts the car," We're going to head back to training. Your gloves are in your practice bag, if that will make you feel better?"

You nod.

That would make you feel better.

[welcome-here-in-my-world]

this post is almost 7 years old but I remembered it today when I saw the girl I wrote it about for the first time in almost 10 years

and it makes me laugh how we indeed just said hello and went our ways

"Dear person I hate,"

Dear person I hate,

There are two main reasons of my hate for you. One is stealing my friend; we all were making a group, but I could see how she was becoming closer to you. The other is exposing my secrets on public; I know I wasn’t saint in the entire situation, but it didn’t make you allowed to do this to me.

I have never told you about the first reason, even though I could; I can only hope that at least you’re aware you haven’t done good thing with telling shit about me. I could’ve told you, and I don’t know why I haven’t. I really wanted to scream it to you in the face. Instead I decided to stay quiet; but you probably know that the calmest people have the loudest minds. I have never killed you in my mind, but I have thought about thousands cruel ways to punish you and wished that at least one of those bad things would happen to you one day.

If we met today, would I tell you about my negative feelings? Probably no. We would exchange hellos with fake smiles on our mouths and go our ways. We don’t talk anyway, stopping you to talk or messaging you would probably be a waste of time. But if the situation made us talk, would I tell you I hate you? Probably no too. Yes, I hate you, but I had to tell you anything, I would say “thank you”.

Thank you for making me realise that not everyone is worth fighting for. Thank you for making me stronger person. Thank you for making me see I can walk straight through hell with a smile.

[kteezy997]

I neeeed something with Timmy being a jealous ex with smut

the ex boyfriend//t.c.

Warnings: drinking alcohol, cursing, jealous Timmy, smut, sex in a car, dirty talk, possessive Timmy

It had been a month since you and Timmy broke up for good after being together for three years. You had really believed that he was the one, that you would be married and have kids with him. But his career had really boomed in the last year, and he was busier than ever. You seemed to fade from his mind in the process.

But that was the past, and you needed to start seeing other people, to help take your mind off your ex. So, your friend so kindly introduced you to a friend of her boyfriend's. His name was Owen, and you had texted for a few days and facetimed twice, and he asked you out for a couple of drinks. He was cute and sweet, and you were excited to get to know someone new, so you said yes.

You had picked out a cute outfit, did your hair and makeup. You had almost forgotten how fun it was to have a reason to get all dressed up. Timmy would always compliment your outfits and your hair, and it made you feel so confident when you were with him.

Owen was so polite in person and hugged you when you arrived outside of the bar. He then opened the door for you and you both walked in. You idly scanned over the room for a table or a pair of seats at the bar. And your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw the brown, messy waves on Timmy's head. As if on cue, he looked up and you made eye contact. Your heart ached seeing those green eyes. You looked away immediately.

"Hey, something wrong?" Owen asked, noticing your odd behavior.

"Uh, oh god, I'm sorry. It's just... my ex is here. We broke up a month ago."

"Oh, did you want to leave?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "it's fine. He already saw me. Let's just sit on the other side of the bar."

.....

You had sat down, gotten a round of drinks and Owen asked about your job, so you told him all about it. Then, he told you about his job working in marketing for a beer company.

The more you talked with him, you realized that he really liked to drink alcohol and party, which really wasn't that attractive to you, not at your age. But you were kind, continued to sip your drink and nod along to whatever he was saying.

As the waiter came over and Owen ordered more drinks, you noticed someone walking over to your table. You knew exactly who it was. No matter how crowded a place may be, you would always be able to pick out Timmy. Part of you was excited to see him, even more so considering how boring this date had turned out to be.

"Y/n." Timmy nodded, approaching your table, "Sorry I don't want to intrude. Just wanted to say hi, and see how you were doing."

"Ah, is this the dreaded ex?" Owen teased.

"Owen, this is Timothee." you said, looking at each of them as you said your names. You felt awkward, as you had never been in this position before.

"You got a new boyfriend already?" Timmy asked spitefully.

"No," you rolled your eyes, "it's a first date. Don't act like you've remained pure and chaste since we broke up, Timmy."

He shrugged, "I have been."

You scoffed, "Okay, whatever."

"I have! I'm sorry for being a dick..."

"I don't care." you grumbled, "I'm on a date, can we not do this now? Or ever?"

"You're saying you never want to talk to me again?" he seemed genuinely hurt by the thought.

"Hey buddy, just fuck off, like she wants you to." Owen piped up.

You and Timmy both glared at him, "You don't have to talk to him like that. And I can take care of this myself, Owen, thank you."

Owen chuckled in annoyance, "Okay, well you can make pretty boy disappear while I'm in the bathroom. I'll be right back."

As your date left the table, you looked at your ex.

Timmy spoke up as soon as the other man was out of earshot. "What the hell are you doing going out with that guy? Seems like an asshole to me."

"Well, you just don't know him." you said.

"Oh, and you do?"

"Yeah." you lied. You could see the fury in Timmy's eyes and his nostrils flaring.

"Well, he should have better manners. He needs to treat you better."

"Timothee, how would you react if your date's ex-boyfriend popped in on you? I don't think you'd handle it well either."

"I would have some respect, or at least some common decency. Which Owen does not seem to have."

You put your hands up, "Okay, I'm tired of this conversation. I think you just need to leave before Owen comes back."

“Yeah,” Timmy looked down, “yeah, I’m sorry. Listen, this guy obviously cares more about his beer than you, so if you want, I’ll be waiting for you in my car outside. I’d love it if you met me out there.”

“You want me to ditch my date for you?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, kinda.” he smirked. “Even if you don��t, it was good to see you.” he smiled sweetly, giving you a nod before he walked away.

You watched Timmy leave, not even noticing Owen return to the table.

“Thank God, he’s gone. What a douchebag.” he scoffed, grabbing his beer mug and taking a big swig of it.

“No,” you countered, “he’s really not. Just cause he’s an ex doesn’t make him an asshole.”

“Okay. Whatever.” he said, trying to seem unfazed, “Want another drink?”

"No, I don't think I do. I'm going to go. Thank you for the date, but I don't think this is going to go anywhere, Owen. Goodbye."

He laughed smugly, "Whatever, you're no fun anyway." He took another long gulp of his beer, not even looking in your direction.

You just rolled your eyes and walked out of the bar.

.......

Like a magnet, you were drawn to Timothee's car in the parking lot. You were curious about what he wanted from you. You missed him. You missed everything about your relationship: how safe and warm you felt with him.

You walked up seeing him nursing an orange Gatorade bottle. He was sitting in the car with the door open.

He heard your footsteps and looked up at you with a happy little grin. "Hey, I thought you weren't gonna come."

“Yeah well, I guess you thought wrong.” you crossed your feet where you stood, "So, why did you want me to come here, Timothee?"

"Because I miss you, y/n, and I hated seeing you with that idiot in there."

"Oh, just jealousy then?" you crossed your arms.

"I mean, yeah." he stood up, "You’re my girl, you have been since I met you. Nothing feels right without you, and I can’t stand the thought of someone else having you.” You noticed his jawline twitched. His eyes were dark when he spoke.

“Hmm, what are you gonna do about it?”

Timmy’s eyes widened some and his lips turned up into a grin. He nodded toward the car, “Get in.”

……

You both hopped into the back seat of his car, which was luckily a spacious full-size SUV. You were making out with him like you were a couple of wild animals in mating season.

“I was not expecting this to happen tonight.” he said with a chuckle as he took your face in his hand.

“Me neither. I’ve missed you so much, Timmy.” you said in a breathy pant.

“I’ve missed you.” he said, leaning in to kiss your neck, “I’ve missed your skin.” he moved to the other side of your neck, sucking there a moment. You felt his hands on your back, “And the way you feel in my arms.” He inhaled, and you knew he was taking in your perfume, like a dose of medicine to heal something inside of him, “I’ve been dying without your scent,” then returning to kiss your mouth, he said, “and your lips.” He moaned into the kiss. “I’ve missed everything. It’s true, I haven’t been with anyone else. Just working, and thinking about you, y/n.”

He was making you more needy by the syllable. You trembled with anticipation. You put your hands on either side of his head, combing the curls back with your fingers. You looked in his eyes, his pupils were overtaking his green irises. “I want you.” you said softly.

Timmy then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and you looked down to see his cock already hard for you and leaking with precum. You missed seeing it. His cock was perfect.

He sat back and you straddled his lap, pulling your panties to the side. You settled onto him, allowing his length to fill you up. “Uhh.” you whimpered, closing your eyes as you felt the pressure inside you.

He wrapped his arms around you as you started to bob your hips up and down. “Fuck yeah. Owen doesn’t deserve this feeling. It’s my privilege and mine alone.”

You grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his. You moved your hips faster and faster. The enclosed space of the car made your noises almost bounce off of each other and amplify.

"Mm, yes, fuck me, baby." Timmy cooed, pressing his hands onto your ass.

You let out a whimper, sloppily grinding against him. "Fuck, this is so good." you cried.

After a moment, he made you stop so he could lay you on your side. Your face was pressed onto the leather seat. Now with your bodies perpendicular, he entered you, holding onto your thigh.

"Ahhh." you moaned. The sensation was a little painful in this position at first. But the faster he fucked you, the more wet you became, and it was easier for him to slide in and out.

Within a few more minutes, Timmy leaned down onto your body, slipped his arm between your breasts and his hand clamped onto your shoulder. You were face-to-face, he was kissing your cheek, and you were both sweating. Your hair stuck to your neck because of the dampness.

"Owen will never get this feeling, not with my girl." He continued to slam his hips into your ass, with damp smacking sounds.

It was all so much, so intense, you were forced to come around his cock.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake

[thesassypadawan]

Prove It (Knight Anakin x PadawanFemReader)

Summary: Unbearable, painful, soul crushing. That’s it felt like after closing off your bond with Anakin. It wasn’t a decision you made lightly, only doing so after you caught him running around with a certain little senator. However you are willing to reopen it, but only if he can prove that he does indeed want you more.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Cheating Anakin, makeup sex…and Ani’s big dick. Padawan Reader is of age.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for a lovely anonymous! I really enjoyed writing this, it was truly a pleasure!  I know it's like only a hint of angst in here, but I tried my best (still learning how to write for it). Hope you like it! ❤️

The sound of knocking filled you shared quarters, startling you out of your restless slumber. It wasn’t completely uncommon for you to struggle with sleeping; some nights were better than others. Tonight, or rather the past couple of nights, though had been the worst yet.

Unbearable, painful, soul crushing. Were just a few ways to describe how it felt. How it felt to be completely closed off from someone through the force. Someone who you cared for deeply, someone you thought was…

Not caring that you were only in a certain someone’s oversized tunic, you quickly made your way to the door. Knowing fully well who you would find on the other side.

A mix of emotions ran through you as you were greeted by the sight of a very disheveled looking Anakin. His face was red, eyes puffy. Tear tracks shining in the faint corridor lights. It seemed like you weren’t the only one who couldn’t get any rest…good.

Leaning against the frame, you crossed your arms across your chest. Gaze hardened, voice cold. “What do you want, Skywalker?”

“I… I, um…” The great hero without fear stuttered, cowering a bit before you. His hands twitching and trembling at his sides.

Noticing this, you had taken a step back. You didn’t need a bond to know what he wanted to do; to scoop you up in his arms and hold you close. And as much as you desired to give in, you refuse to do so. “I’ll ask again… What do you want, Skywalker?”

Despite your actions, he still reached out for you. Long fingers tentatively grazing and touching your side, before you slapped them away. “Fine,” he sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping. “I came here to talk to you…to try to make things right. Please…can I come in?”

You should have turned him away right then and there. But he looked so lost, so pathetic…you just couldn’t. “All right,” you huffed, stepping aside. “Get in here, don’t need you attracting unwanted attention.”

Ani perked up a bit and gave a small nod. “Thanks,” he muttered, quickly dipping inside.

The scene was all too familiar. Him sneaking into your shared quarter late at night. You both trying to contain your enthusiasms while you snuck off to your room. Hoping your master would remain in his deep slumber or, in instances like this, grateful to have him away on some kind of solo mission.

However, one thing was different…

“I’m surprised you’re here,” you said spitefully, closing the door behind you. “Shouldn’t you be at your precious, little senator’s apartment?”

You watched him flinch, your words clearly having the effect you hoped they would have. “No,” he replied, placing his big hands on your arms. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

“Oh, really? Is that so?” You laughed, a hint of mockery in your tone. “If that’s the case, then why did you go somewhere else? Why did you feel the need to go run off to another woman’s bed, when you had a perfectly good one here?”

His hold on you tightened and he let out a shaky breath. “Okay, I deserved that. You have to hear me out though…please. Please?”

There were so many things you wished to say, to yell. Instead you just stood there; staring up at him, your expression unreadable.

When you didn’t reply, Anakin leaned down a bit. Brushing his lips across yours, whispering softly. “Hatari, I made a huge mistake. I don’t want her, only you. I love-”

“Prove it,” you boldly interrupted, a fiery glint in your eyes. “Show me right now and…I’ll consider reopening the bond.”

Silence fell between you two, the air grew heavy with tension and underlying lust. He was so close; you could feel his hot breath fanning over your face. Lips inches away from one another. “With pleasure,” he chuckled.

Giving you a chaste kiss, he pulled away. You were about to whine in protest, so touched starved, when he slipped out of his robes. Cock springing forth, wonderfully hard and deliciously leaking. That smug smirk on his face.

In an instant, Ani had hooked his strong arms under your thighs. Squeezing them, hiking them up onto his hips. Wrapping them tightly around his waist, pressing you firmly against the door.

Crashing your lips together, you kissed each other hungerly. Your hand reaching and fumbling to position his fat tip at your dripping entrance. “No panties? Were you expecting me, angel?”

“Shut up,” you growled in his ear. “And just kriff me already.”

“Maker you’re sexy when you’re angry,” he groaned. Pushing his impressive length into you, both of you moaning and hissing in unison.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails frantically scratching. As he pounded your needy cunt over and over. Grip nearly painful, fingers digging into and bruising your subtle flesh.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air while he slammed into you. Desperate mewls escaped you from him hitting that perfect, toe-curling spot. The coil in your stomach only winding tighter with each passing moment. “Faster… Kriff… Harder… Going to… Kriff…”

Spurred on by your encouraging words, Anakin’s thrusts grew sloppier. Invisible fingers drawing circles on your clit, trying to coax your orgasm out of you. “M-Me too,” he grunted, face buried in the crook of your neck. “Let go; let it all out f-for me.”

That’s all it took, and you were sent spiraling. Waves of pleasure washing over you. Whole body convulsing around him. Making him crash, spilling his hot cum deep inside you. All that pent up energy finally getting released.

You two stayed like that for a minute or two. Catching your breath, foreheads pressed together. Sighing in relief and happiness as your bond reopened.

“Missed you,” you giggled.

“Missed you too,” he laughed softly. “Forgive me?”

A wide, slightly twisted grin spread across your face. “Of course, Ani. But just know, if I ever see you with that little senator again… I’ll have to make you ‘prove it’ in a more aggressive way.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[sheaymin]

the violent shame in rook's voice when they say okay when told to shut up makes me lose it every time

[puppetmaster13u]

Klarion are you trying to get adopted? That's how you get adopted. Danny will take it as a challenge- he will pull out every annoying younger-older sibling things he knows! He will send a picture with no context to his dads and siblings, there will be no escape!

The Wise Sage, Tucker, I feel like would, as a dragon, look almost like a mixture of a wolf and serpent, with massive hawk-esque feathered wings that spread golden sand everywhere. Maybe rings that hold scrolls on his horns and runes of untold knowledge (to the denizens of their world) carved into his scales. Perhaps in 'human' form he has a cloak of feathers that he plucks to use as a writing utensil when teaching. Perhaps his scales are like stone tablets.

The Life Giver, Sam, should definitely have a branching crown of horns. Like in 'human' form it looks like a crown of branches but in draconic form it's like a ring of trees, with ridges down her spine almost akin to roots. Like she looks like a gothic statue overtaken by nature almost.

Honestly love the idea of Klarion going, well on one hand I could ask for help, but on the other I could be a big annoyance! Obviously nothing can go wrong with that!

Inspired by @puppetmaster13u and various dragon aus they have.

BUT! This is also a bit of a fantasy/DnD au I guess...? IDK BUT HERE WE GO-

Okay now so, I'm imagining that that Danny, Tucker, and Sam create a pocket dimension for their game via the use of reality warping (via scepter) and something given to them by Pariah Dark before he went off on that whole honey moon thing with Clockwork.

For the record, Danny isn't the ghost king here, Pariah Dark is he's just the prince.

Sam created a garden from the barren earth, that eventually grew into a great forest and spread out to the rest of the world, which technically made her the creator of life but anyways. So, she's holed up in said garden turned forest.

Tucker bestowed upon his subjects (after they were made of course) knowledge and technology and is regarded as the greatest teacher in that world's history.

Danny? Oh yea he became that one that giant dragon that everyone knows is there, is afraid of, and just sleeps all day in this one specific place. You'd have to cut him some slack though, because no one told him creating a world and its laws would be so hard even with help.

That and him, as the one with basically the most knowledge and resident fanboy of space, created the stars surrounding the place as well!

Of course, they couldn't stay there all of the time. What with work (Tucker), high-society (Sam), and studying (Why the heck did Danny decide to go to collage again?). That entire place was just made to play around in before they had to go their separate ways and be, you know, actual adults, so it was easy enough to let go of it really.

Except for Danny. Not of any great reason, really, he just needed someplace where he could quietly study in peace, nap, think or just get away from the Ghost Zone before he had to go through all that princely nonsense again. Plus, none of their creations in that pocket dimension really wanted to mess with the giant fuck off dragon who was said to created the place anyways.

For the record, Danny is more of an eastern dragon in design with a long body rather than western. So that probably just added more into his intimidation with his sheer length.

So, you know, of course he would have been none too pleased when someone actually did disturb his solitude (as stated by the dimension's residents) as soon as the world was thrown off-balance by an outside force.

Meanwhile, Klarion the Witch boy is having the time of his life coming across a whole world that somehow hasn't been affected by Order or Chaos. So he's capitalizing on that.

Then he came across a place that was said to be sacred, not that he cared, and then came across a boy who didn't look a day over his teens (which frankly doesn't say much in regards to immortals) with a frankly long tail that looked longer than he was tall and very majestic looking horns.

Danny was annoyed yet curious, Klarion was surprised yet delighted.

[chaifootsteps]

My GOD 😂 finding out the context of Viv’s weird “edgy teenagers” post from the other day just puts it in a whole new hilarious light.

This woman, mind you, is a fan of Sausage Party. She loves South Park, Drawn Together, a variety of adult animation with “edgy” humor. In her “Rambling About Sausage Party” video on youtube she literally made a point to be like “i’m not someone who’s easily offended” (mhm, right, her history of getting into squabbles with critics says otherwise but i digress). She grew up on early Youtube when FAR worse jokes were being casually made for edgy humor’s sake and has a playlist full of those types of videos on her old abandoned ZooPhobia YouTube channel. She drew “The Producers” sausage party fanart!!

The way she is acting like she is above jokes like the video on twitter is SLAYING me oh my gosh 😭 and the fact that she made the point to spitefully call the teen who made the video an “edgy dumfuck” like she wasn’t doing the SAME stuff at that age, and THEN ALSO as an adult, is hysterical.

Of all the Viv things she's done recently, this is easily the Viv-iest.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty-eight: uniform kink

>>> all the hating bitches to the back i literally do not want to hear it!!! ttyl xoxo this is for more of my depraved self-ship needs

>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: established relationship, clothed sex, reader and gojo have three kids, breeding/pregnancy kink, uniform kink obviously i swear they tie in bear w me, spankings, doggy >>> wc: 3.6k >>> event masterlist:

it started out innocently enough. well, that’s a lie. it was not innocent, ever—though it wasn’t weird!! you guys are the same age, married for years–with children! it’s only weird when there’s massive age gaps, right? either way, he feels a daunting sense of guilt mixed with devious amounts of excitement shiver down his spine as you step around the corner. 

the two of you have been pilfering through boxes all day, trying to clear out the bonus room now that the girls were old enough to have their own rooms. they were visiting uncle megumi while their parents rearranged the house to surprise them, but it seems you’ve gotten a little side-tracked walking down memory lane. the first box was full of pictures from school, some of your earliest moments with satoru memorialized forever in the stills. it does make you a little emotional to think about how far the two of you have come, the years spent together and the things accomplished side by side. these pictures tell your story; the first few days of school where you and satoru—then spitefully called gojo-kun—stood at opposite ends of the frame to be as separated as possible. satoru gives ieiri bunny ears and you’re hugging suguru’s arm–but the two of you are looking at each other. it’s clear to you now that you were trying to make each other jealous, but at the time you would have sworn to the heavens above that you couldn’t stand the man. 

now satoru always had a soft spot for you, torturing you was all just fun and games to him—until you started dating a guy from the kyoto school. this, of course, was memorialized in pictures too. there teenage you stood, all dressed up for winter formal, grinning ear to ear as you pose for the camera shoko was operating. you can remember this like it was yesterday, standing in your dorm after exchanging your uniform skirt for an icy blue cocktail dress—you were more nervous for a certain someone to see you than you were to meet up with your date. you knew what you were doing when you picked the dress out, and its effect was clearly captured with satoru’s bulging eyes, red face, and gaping mouth in the background. you pass that one to your husband after taking a few good chuckles at it, remembering shoko turning around her little canon camera to show you the picture and how good you felt after seeing gojo-kun’s reaction. 

he waves the picture in his hands, whistling in the same way he did as soon as that camera fell to shoko’s side. he looks at the picture with fondness, remembering it as the moment he decided to get serious about you. the warmth in his cheeks and jealousy squeezing his heart as your date came to pick you up had him reeling to come up with a way to stop you from going. 

“he gonna make you go halfsies on dinner?” he calls after you, and embarrassment stung your cheeks. your date, just as petrified of gojo as he should be, shakes his head no. 

“n–no, we’re going on full stomachs.” he replies, clutching a pathetic bouquet in his hands. gojo laughs. that bouquet was three dollars maximum, and you were a $30 arrangement at the least. and too cheap to take you on a real date? he shouldn’t be surprised, but he can’t help but press on at the horror on your face and the desperation in his gut. 

“ah, daddy didn’t give you any money? i’ll pay you enough to get yourself a real nice dinner if you leave the lady with me.” he sings, holding out a few yen notes for him. you’re mortified, sure this was another one of his stunts to embarrass you— but your date was easily bought. 

“but–”

“b-but–” gojo rolled his eyes in annoyance, slapping the money in his hand. “i recommend the sushi place on the corner.” he turns, beaming at you, slipping his arm through yours when the kyoto boy drops— without skipping a beat. “c’mon. i believe there’s a dance tonight?” he pulls his sunglasses down his nose a little bit to let you see the mischief and excitement swirling in his eyes. 

you bite the inside of your cheek. you want to punch him in the arm–so you do–and then you nod. it sure took him long enough. “you better make this worth it, gojo-kun.” 

he grins. “call me satoru and i’ll make it all worth it, pretty lady.” his voice is a low rumble in his chest instead of his usual light tone. it makes your heart skip a beat and that warmth burn on your cheeks again. 

you never call him gojo-kun again. the rest is history–a viewable version with the many grainy phone selfies of dates and onslaught of school photographs and even an old camcorder with some footage of you practicing your technique on him made it to this spare room. you’re amazed at how nostalgic it all feels, pulling out a picture of you and satoru on graduation day. he’s smiling and pressing a kiss to your cheek—making the switch to a blindfold instead of his circular specs. his hair stands due to the fabric, but you liked the new look; especially when he pulled the blindfold up to wink at you and let you see his sunshine. he’s slumped over you, arms wrapped around your chest. you’re grinning, leaning back against him with your hands tucked into his hold on you. it’s a sweet picture—but you’re focused on the next few. you’re in the same position, but he sneaks his hand to the dip of your waist, then your hip, finally ending with a picture of you blushing from the invisible hand grabbing a handful of your ass. you pass those to satoru too, watching his expression as he flips through them, admiring the youth on your faces. 

“god you made that uniform so sexy.” he snorts, eyes dancing over the way the black fabric clung to you. at the time, he wondered if you’d ordered it that tight just to taunt him, but now he knew there was no amount of clothes that could’ve hidden that bangin’ bod. he shakes his head as he remembers just how horny he had been–not that much has changed even after three kids and over fifteen years together. “had so many fantasies of you in that thing.” 

you arch a brow, “really now?” you ask, clearly intrigued. you had seen the familiar bundle of fabric folded at the bottom of the box. “what kind of fantasies?” you purr, making the hairs on the back of neck stand up, the effects you had fifteen years ago just as efficacious now. 

how honest could he even be with that answer? yes, back then—even as your equal, he envisioned punishing you as your sensei in that little skirt—oh the ways he would have defiled you in yaga’s classroom if you had let him. he’d wondered if you would lean into the slutty schoolgirl act, if you would call him sensei instead of daddy. or would you think that was too much given his current occupation. not like it was the uniform that he liked, just the way you looked in it—and the way it felt to be young and obsessed with you. his obsession has never wavered, its just had to become more subdued as you raise your children —wanting to be a good example and all, he’s nothing but a loving and proper man in front of them. buuuuut. they were with megumi for a few more hours. “what other kinda fantasies about schoolgirls are there, gorgeous?” 

“you perv! gives gojo-sensei a whole new meaning.” you tease him, watching in sheer enjoyment as his cheeks darken a few shades and he crinkles his nose at you in embarrassment. 

“only if you say it like that.” he mumbles in his defense. great, now you think he’s a sicko. he turns back to his box of collectibles, pilfering through what he actually cared to keep now—even though he hasn’t seen any of it since your oldest was born. it’s mostly to hide his shame as he continues to think about you in that little getup with that matured body of yours. he wonders if the material would stretch to accommodate your wider hips and fatter ass. he wonders if the stretchmarks you’ve developed from carrying his children would peek over the waistband of the skirt that’s sure to ride up a little due to your widened thighs. he’s so immersed in the thought of you that he doesn’t hear you slip around the corner to tug on the old outfit. 

it certainly doesn’t fit the same, but it fits. there’s not a shred of modesty to be found– the once form fitting turtleneck top now a cropped version due to the strain from your chest. you hadn’t realized just how much your body had changed beside the obvious pounds on the scale and the marks on your skin—but your mid-thigh length skirt was now a navy mini, showing the dimples of your thighs and the bottom of your ass cheeks. you were no longer the girl from those pictures, but instead a woman who bears the beautiful changes of giving three gorgeous gojo’s life. your husband has always been a massive fan of what he calls “enhancements” to his favorite areas—loving the fluffy stomach for him to rub and the hips that fill his hands. he traces your stretch marks to soothe his racing mind at night, snuggling into your heavy chest for warmth and ultimate comfort in his free time. you know he’s only fallen deeper in love with you and it makes your heart warm with appreciation now that the differences between the young you and the current have been made so clear. you almost give up on the idea altogether, but your husband’s voice calls out for you, so you step around the corner before you can doubt yourself any more. 

he was giving you the sweetest little face—holding up your youngest’s hospital baby blanket with only fondness in his eyes. that is until it registers, as his eyes follow your bulging chest struggling against the fabric, the sides of your hips spilling over the top of the skirt—barely covering anything at all. his face turns red and the blanket falls from his hands, back into the box from whence it came. oh the shame he feels as his cock processes this shock too—making him hiss at the sudden tightness in his pants, biting his lip as he looks at you. it worked on you then and you make it your bitch now, absolutely stunning him beyond words. and he’s never short on things to say. you look even better than anything his imagination drummed up for him. fuck, you are so sexy—you only get better with age. 

the way he looks at you makes you feel like he’s falling in love all over again—eyes bouncing around your frame like he can’t make up his mind to settle on one area. your face burns under his amorous stare, but you fold your hands behind your back and sway to let him admire you. it makes your whole body warm and your cunt clench around nothing the longer he sits and stares–biting his lip, clearly in no hurry to end this moment. as beautiful as he makes you feel, you just can’t help but tease him slightly. you know he’ll pay it back in kind. “do you like it, gojo-sensei?” 

“oh aijichan, can’t you tell?” he hums, eyes falling to his clear erection before they flicker back to you—overcast and darker than usual. he usually playfully calls you his lover, but the addition of the suffix lets you know how thoroughly he’s enjoying your little act. he pats his thigh, spreading his legs even wider across the luxurious office chair. you giggle a little bit, excitement flooding your veins as you walk over to meet him. how you swing your hips and flutter your lashes is not lost on him, in fact he feels the painful buildup pressing against your thigh as you sit sideways on his, looping an arm across his shoulders. “you were such a good little girl in school. i always wondered what it would be like to treat you like a bad one.” he offers, his voice a permanent purr when it comes to the naughty things he presses to your ear. 

it sends a shudder down your spine, and you can’t help but press your chest closer to him in an automatic response. he hooks his hand around your waist, feeling the dip of your waist. he doesn’t miss the reaction—and he loves that you like it. his hand squeezes the fat on your hips, helping you off his lap before standing to full height to tower above you. 

“then bend it over, little lady.” he suggests with a wiggle of his brow, pushing the office chair closer to you with his signature smugness. his eyes sparkle with an erratic excitement, gripping the back of the chair with a tight hold—leaving his impressions in the fabric. you giggle and lean over the chair as instructed. a giddiness floods your veins while he walks circles around you, humming approvingly. “i think ten should teach you your lesson, hm?” 

you wiggle your ass preemptively and nod just to be safe. “yes sir, i think that’ll fix everything.” you purr, feeling one harsh spank to your cheek. it sends a jolt of excitement pulsating to your core, and you know that the results will be evident once he moves your skirt. the arms of the chair dig into your stomach—but it just adds to the sensation as he layers a few intense slaps to your ass. 

“well?” he talks over your loud squeals and happy giggles. “aren’t you going to say thank you?” he hums, shoving your skirt up to your waist to expose the growing redness and incriminating wetness all over your bottom half. he chuckles fondly—you surely do impress. he hits you once more. 

“yes–mmf-” you moan out at the stinging sensation. it’s so much more pleasurable on your bare skin, you can’t help but arch back into him, giving him such a beautiful view of your glistening hole and handprint-branded ass. he slaps it again, enjoying the recoil. “thank you sensei, feels so good~”

he kneads the irritated flesh a little in between the spanks–he’s not heartless, after all. you’re his wife, no amount of roleplay could make him forget the love that swells in his heart for you; especially with that beautiful ass of yours. “that’s seven—can you take your last three, naughty little thing?” 

“mhm, i can take it.” you assure him, finding it wholesome and sexy that he still checks on you even if the dirty talk never skips a beat. from the way you wiggle your bruising ass for him, he knows you’re loving this. he cups his hand under your pussy just to check even though your shiny thighs tell him all he needs to know. he’s delighted when your essence coats his hand anyway, giggling with schoolgirl excitement. hey, that’s your part—

“seems the punishment’s only making you badder.” he hums in approval, hurrying his last few spanks up in order to finally have you. he makes them count though, loud and stinging worse than a wasp—though you can’t recall the last time a bee sting made you feel that good. he can’t remember the last time you two had the house to yourselves, and he planned to put that all of that alone time to good use. you scream out and shudder at the delicious agony, tossing a look over your shoulder to see the sheer pleasure on his face–tufts of hair hanging over his vivid eyes. “seems we’ll just have to move onto something that suits you, aijichan.” 

you clamp down reflexively at his statement, nodding to your undetermined punishment, if such a thing existed under your husband’s treatment. he frees his erection with a little grunt of relief, sliding it through your sloppy lips instantly. he sighs at the feeling—but you whine at the lack of relief. the fire in your gut was burning so hot—you couldn’t take any more of the waiting.

“aw, what is it, little girl?” he mockingly pouts with you. “so needy for your sensei you could cry?” he arches a brow–sheathing his impressive length into the hilt without any more wasted time. he closes his eyes at the feeling of you, just as tight and warm as the first time he had you. it’s wild to him how three kids haven't changed how amazing it is to have you wrapped around him. 

you do cry out at how perfect he fits inside—curving into every gummy spot that needs him with hardly any effort. the sound you make is like music to his ears. you haven’t been able to be this loud since ieiri took the kids to the beach for a weekend four and a half years ago—and that’s how your youngest happened. not to say you haven’t been intimate since, just more…cautious and certainly more quiet. but that does give him an idea. 

he starts to move, grabbing a decent handful of your hair to make a handle out of, pulling you up into a pretty arch. “got one more in you, princess?” he coos, leaning over your body to give you short but powerful thrusts. you can tell from his tone and your regular nickname that playtime was over—he was too consumed by the feeling of you coupled with the undying love you bring out of him to keep up the pet names, but he could succumb to the flash of memories flooding his brain. falling in love with you, making you his for the first time which was also the day he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. he can see the day you played strip uno—which was something he made up just to be cheesy. he remembers your wedding day, you looked so beautiful and were already a few weeks pregnant with your first baby together–your son. god, the memories of you swollen and whiny—

“i—are you serious?” you giggle, a little out of breath from the rigorous way he rocks into you, keeping your asscheeks separated so he didn’t have any resistance. you knew what he was asking, and you know your heart flutters at the idea of having another one despite agreeing to stop after the ones you have. “i thought three was all you could handle?”

“i changed my mind. wanna see you big again. i miss it—’nd i can handle anything.” he says in between the sound of his balls hitting your ass. you can hear the pout in his voice, “you don’t want one?” 

“didn’t say that.” you struggle to form responses, knuckles turning white as you grip the desk in front of you. “just wanted—to be sure—you’re sure!” you squeal with every bruising thwap to your cervix, eyes scrunched shut. you’re almost so gone you might just agree to anything, but the idea of one more pregnancy, one more addition to the family, one more round of being endlessly spoiled as you wait for another gorgeous baby to arrive—it doesn’t sound so bad. it sounds perfect actually, and his words only egg you on. you clench around him in spasms, nodding. “gimme–” 

he chuckles wildly in pride. he would say he loves bully-fucking you into getting his way, but he heard you on the phone with your girlfriend the other day. you were missing that feeling of a new baby as much as he was—and he’s here to please. he moves your hips back to meet his, ass bouncing at the force. your squeals slip into screams and he’s fucking you as hard as he can in order to get more of it: of the sounds, the feeling of your womb keeping him from going any further, the way your pussy flutters around him to tell him you’re so close to cumming—everything was sending him reeling. 

“cum for me first—then’ll give you everything you want, baby.” he encourages, giving you a cocky, “yeahhhh that’s my girl.” when he feels you coat around him—gasping out moans as your legs wiggle and jump. it’s not long after that that he’s gripping your hair even harder, balls drawing up close to him just to spurt his seed as deep as it will go—hoping that his sperm is still just as successful as it’s been known to be. he helps shove it deeper with a few more rolls of his hips, to which you shiver and whine due to oversensitivity.

he pats your ass affectionately, leaning over you again to kiss your cheek as you both sit in the moment and try to catch your breath. he lets your hair fall from his fingers and gently brushes it out of your face, grinning his usual giddy grin. “you’re even sexier now, you know? feel like it’s every day, but even teen satoru would—”

“allllllright thank you, honey, that’s sweet.” you chuckle, shaking your head as he pulls out. he scoops you over his shoulder and shakes his head. 

“whaaaaat–you’re a fucking milf–” he slaps your ass playfully as he sashays toward your room with you. “that i still have–mmm forty-five more minutes give or take to knock up again.” he guesstimates, tossing you on the mattress and crawling over you—determined as ever.

[jam3sacaster]

“Well, you couldn’t possibly dance alone.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Accompanying you to your first ever grand ball, Rupert realises you are more than he bargained for…

18+ FANFIC / Rupert being a sweetie 🩷 Reader character aged 21. Hope you enjoy! 💋

Rain came down in torrents over Rutshire, cascading over the glorious patch of lily-of-the-valleys outside of Cotchester Grand Hall, and adding a wintry breeze to the already bitter Autumn evening. “Who is that?” Basil Baddingham questioned Rupert, as his emerald gaze watched you saunter past them and over to the bow-tied waiter wielding a tray of champagne flutes. Tonight, it was evident you were going to overshadow all else — adorned in an ink-black Bardot bodycon dress with intricate lace sleeves. Your fawn-brown hair was scraped tightly into a twisted Chignon, held together with a diamond pin. At the end of your svelte legs- spectacular cherry-red stilettos that complimented your bronze skin effortlessly.

“That, my friend, is my new lover.” Rupert sipped the whiskey handed to him by Bas, with a smug, self-satisfied smirk washing across his face. “Local?” Bas continued his interrogation as his eyes followed your behind. “Just outside of Cotchester. Daddy made his millions in boating, but this is her first ball. They’re from Essex, same place as Freddie I believe.” Rupert informed him, rejoicing in every single man turning towards you, undeniably undressing you with their eyes. “Well, when you’re done with her, do pass on my number.” Bas winks. His words made Rupert’s skin crawl. For some reason he couldn’t quite place, he couldn’t imagine having anybody else.

“Well done, angel. You’ve made quite the impression.” Rupert exulted, placing a hand on the small of your back and dragging you away from your polite conversation with James Vereker. “Very posh, isn’t it? I think everyone likes me though.” You beam, sipping your champagne flute as slow as you could muster and batting long, wispy eyelashes at your chiselled lover. “Very much so.” Rupert responded through gritted teeth, discreetly turning around to Vereker and telling him to ‘fuck off’. Every man in the room envied Rupert with a furious passion, something he was accustomed to. But this time, it felt different. Perhaps, he was beginning to fall in love.

“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar… when I met you.” The Human League blared from within the speakers. Without a second thought, your beguiling smile beamed as you paced onto the dance floor. “This is my favourite song!” You yell, arms flailing merrily and feet beginning to fall into a two-step. From the corner of his eye, Rupert observed an astonished Sarah Stratton whisper spitefully to her friend who, subsequently whispered to the person behind her. A crowd of dumbfounded guests began to gather, staggered that Rupert would associate himself with someone so classless.

Like a knight in shining armour, Rupert emerged beside you. “Rupert!” You bellowed, dangerously close to noticing everybody’s disapproving stares. “Well, you couldn’t possibly dance alone.” He grinned and, to your surprise, began to dance The Running Man. Never a dancer, Rupert became a gauche heap of limbs, throwing himself to the ground to do the worm before jumping back up for an encore of the running man. The stupefied crowd pushed out an uncomfortable chuckle, before returning to their own conversations. “What are you doing?” You exclaim in awe, roaring with laughter as you replicate his tremendous dance moves. “Well, everyone else is being inconceivably boring. If I didn’t already fancy the arse off you before, I most certainly do now.” Rupert shouted in response, any trace of dignity he once had simply melting away.

“Don’t you want me, baby? Don’t you want me, ohh?” The music continued to blare as Rupert tugs at your arm, pulling you tight to his chest as he continued to sway side-to-side. “Don’t you want me?” You question, resting your blushed cheek against his now damp shirt. “I’ve just made a complete and utter tit of myself in front of everyone I have ever met. Please don’t question how I feel about you.” He tuts jokingly, breathing in the intoxicating aroma of Coco Chanel. Dear God, he thought to himself, I love this girl.

[ezkel]

I honestly believe that the slytherin skittles got up to some strange stuff in their years at Hogwarts. No pranks but they definitely knew pretty much everything about everyone, they spent their years finding weird rituals and doing them for entertainment. And Regulus definitely figured out the Animagus stuff the marauders did and spitefully came up with a plan to make his whole friend group animagus so that he could prove that they're better (they completed the process at a slightly younger age) they didn't tell Sirius of course but it did make them smug.

They're doing strange rituals and accidentally summoning demons. Pandora getting visions of creatures in the forbidden forest and dragging them out to investigate, Barty getting restless and starting beef with Snapes group, Evan learning a new piece of information about someone and manipulating the environment to expose it, Dorcas finding new exciting rituals and drawing up the protective circles, Regulus getting annoyed at people for bothering him and making 12 step plans to spite them. The dorm that Regulus, Barty and Evan share is definitely haunted at this point but they just use the spirits as practice for their wards.

[ranticore]

i'm doing it i'm finally doing it i can tick one task off the list

lines are done but there's no way i'm colouring all 5 poses on this sheet today so we will see colour ummmm some time

so in flicker's culture, a sphinx's name is the answer to their main go-to riddle, the one they use to ambush travellers into a game of wits. as such the name is usually a VERY well-kept secret, and revealing another person's name is will plant a target on your back. the riddle is usually quite long and convoluted, starting small but growing more elaborate as they age into adulthood and tack on more parts to it, to the point where the real old ones can have the equivalent of novels for their names. they do not answer to any nicknames or shortened versions - you either know their name by solving the riddle, or you don't.

if you are an ambushed human and you manage solve the riddle, this can earn you a great and lasting friendship with a cool sphinx, if they feel like it. if you fail to answer or give up, they'll try to kill you. you might be granted days or even months to solve the riddle, or you might just get a minute. if you solve it and then spill the beans about it, they'll try to kill you, and then spitefully change their name and start building a new riddle around it.

flicker's name is "Starts With F, The Movement Of Light Through Trees", pretty much just a crossword puzzle, and it's that way on purpose. a great and lasting friendship was exactly what they wanted