#but u know what we have the same... this -> He thinks his strong point is being optimistic and being able to have fun in any situation.' ME

[bachirasbodyguard]

You kinda act like Bachira

🥹🥹🥹 you prommy?

that's the nicest thing you could've said to me, thank you

[hoshifighting]

when you make seventeen cry in an argument WARNINGS: angst, lots of crying. a/n: just a question, why do u guys enjoy angst this much?

seungcheol he hates crying in front of you, hates feeling vulnerable. he’s the type to hold everything in, trying to stay strong for the both of you, even when the argument gets intense. but when the words cut too deep, when he feels like he’s failing you, you’ll see his eyes gloss over. he won’t let the tears fall right away; he’ll turn his head, rub the back of his neck, trying to keep it together. but when you keep pushing, maybe saying something that hits a little too close to home, his voice will crack. “i’m just trying to make this work,” he’ll say, and that’s when you know he’s really hurting.

jeonghan is the last person you’d expect to see cry during an argument. but he won’t cry unless he feels completely misunderstood. he can handle a lot, can take the back-and-forth of a heated argument, but when he feels like you don’t see him for who he is, that’s when the tears start to build. he quickly turns his head, not wanting you to see. “do you really think that about me?” when the tears come, they’re quiet, more like a silent plea for you to understand him. hates that you’re seeing him like this, but he can’t help it.

joshua tries so hard to stay composed during an argument. he’s the peacemaker, the one who wants to talk things out rationally, but when the argument drags on and you keep circling back to the same painful points, it wears him down. he’ll keep his tone calm, even when his heart is breaking “i don’t want to lose you over this,” he’ll say, his voice shaking as tears spill down his cheeks. it’s the thought of losing you that makes him break.

junhui is a bit of a mystery when it comes to his emotions tbh. he’ll stay quiet during most arguments, letting you vent, but when he starts to feel like he’s being taken for granted or misinterpreted, that’s when the tears threaten to spill. he’ll bite his lip, trying to keep it together, but when you push just a little too hard, he’ll crack. “why do you think i don’t care?” it’s not that he’s weak; it’s that he cares too much.

soonyoung is passionate in everything he does, and that includes arguing. he’ll fight hard, push his point, but he’s also quick to feel the weight of the argument. he cries when he feels misunderstood, when he feels like no matter what he says, it’s not getting through. the tears come when the frustration boils over, when he feels like he’s failing to communicate how much he cares. “why can’t we just talk this out…,” he’ll say, his voice breaking as the tears start to fall, showing just how much he’s been holding in.

wonwoo is the type to hold everything in until he can’t anymore. he’ll stay quiet during an argument, letting you say what you need to say, but when he feels like you’re not hearing him, not seeing him, that’s when the tears start to build. he won’t cry easily; it takes a lot to get him to that point, but when he does, it’s heartbreaking. “i just want you to understand!”

woozi is tough, or at least he tries to be. he doesn’t like showing weakness, especially during an argument. he’ll try to fight it, to keep going, but his voice will start to crack. “why do you have to say it like that?” he’ll ask, and you’ll see the tears welling up in his eyes. he won’t let them fall right away; he’ll try to brush it off, to focus on the argument, but eventually, he’ll have to turn away, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, hating that he’s crying but unable to stop.

minghao is usually the one trying to keep things calm, trying to deescalate the argument before it gets too heated. he’s not quick to cry, but when he does, it’s because the fight has gone too far. when the tears start, he can’t stop them. they come silently, slipping down his cheeks as he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “this isn’t what i wanted,” he says, voice trembling. he hates that it’s come to this, hates that he’s crying in the middle of a fight.

mingyu is sensitive, and that sensitivity often makes him emotional during arguments. he tries to keep it together, tries to stay strong, but it doesn’t take much to push him to the point of tears. it’s when the fight gets too intense, when it feels like you’re pulling away from him, that he starts to break down. he doesn’t try to hide it, doesn’t try to stop the tears from falling—he just lets them come, his shoulders shaking as he sobs. the fear that this fight could be the end of something he cares so deeply about.

seokmin always try to avoid conflict whenever possible. but when the argument gets serious, he can’t help but cry. just the sight of you upset, the sound of your voice cracking under the weight of the fight, and his own tears start to flow. he’s not good at hiding it, not good at keeping his emotions in bottled, so when he starts crying, and it’s hard for him to stop.

seungkwan wears his heart on his sleeve, and that makes him quick to cry during arguments. he’s not ashamed of it, not afraid to show his emotions, but that doesn’t make it any easier when the tears start to fall. he tries to keep talking, tries to work through the argument, but his voice breaks, and suddenly he’s crying, his shoulders vibrating, and he can’t hold it back once it starts.

vernon is usually pretty laid-back, but when something really matters to him, he’ll fight for it. he doesn’t cry easily, but when it feels like it’s breaking something between you two, it hits him hard. the tears come when he feels like he’s losing you, like the fight is pushing you further apart, and then the tears will come, slow at first but then all at once. he’ll hate that he’s crying, hate that he’s showing this side of himself.

chan is still figuring things out, still learning how to navigate arguments and everything. he is sensitive, but he’s not quick to cry during an argument. but there’s a limit to how much he can take. when he feels a lump form in his throat. he tries to push it down, tries to keep his voice steady, but when he sees the pain in your expression, it’s too much. his eyes well up, and he has to pause, taking a deep breath to keep from breaking down completely. he can't understand.

[love-bitesx]

: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

[hitomisuzuya]

YAY UR OPENNN AKSKSKWKWKWKEJW🌸 I MISSED U SM!! here's some flowers for u: 💐🌹🌸🏵🌸🌹🌹🌼

can i request for smut... uhm.. LIKE FRUSTRATED HUSBAND SCARA- AND AND READER JUST CAME HOME AT THE SAME TIME, and scara didn't know that reader went out SO IT FRUSTRATED HIM MORE- AND- AND HE BENDS U OVER THE BALCONY OMDMWJEEHHWHWHEHSH- and an ending where scara and reader fix their argument- if that's okay with u

currently playing genshin rn, farming for father arlecchino🎀

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Rough sex. Creampie. Slight Yandere Scaramouche.

Thank you for the flowers 🥺 Happy farming and good luck with your pulls. I'm skipping her sadly, but Scara's cons call❤️

If it wasn't one thing, it was another. If it wasn't someone messing up, someone was reporting in late. Scaramouche swore he could've squeezed a stress ball to mush in his hands from frustration. And to top it all off, he had to be away from you.

And he fucking hated that.

Thinking about how your lips lingered against his when he pulled away from his departing kiss this morning led to him thinking how much he wished he could be impaling you on his cock instead of dealing with this shit.

Scaramouche instantly knew you weren't home the moment he walked in the door. Which only frustrated him more. He'd told you to stay home like a good girl. And it didn't help that he was incredibly set in his ways. If he couldn't go with you himself then he liked to send an escort, or guard of sorts (as incompetent as his squad was).

You came through the door as he walked out onto the balcony to look around. "Scara, you are home," You said, smiling at him as you set a few bags down on the counter. "I missed you," You trotted up to him, and started to tilt your head up to kiss him.

He put a finger on your lips to stop you. "You went out?" He asked, glancing at the bags on the counter. The discontent was evident in his eyes. "You didn't tell me."

"Yeah, I just needed a few groceries. And we needed cat food," You narrowed your eyes stubbornly before you said what led to you being bent over the balcony once his hands finished furiously pawing your clothes off while he devoured your mouth in a harsh kiss: "I'm perfectly capable of going down the street on my own."

That wasn't the point. He knew you were strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you.

Scaramouche's arm was wrapped around you, holding you against him as his fingers danced over your throbbing clit. You mewled feeling him pinch and roll your nipple, grinding down needily against his fingers.

"You should've told me," He growled, delivering another pinch to your nipple that sent a sharp jolt right to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand suddenly came down across your ass, "If I couldn't have gone with you, I would've sent a guard."

"Scara, I-I--" The pads of his fingers rubbed firmer circles on your clit as you cried out, making your words die in your throat as your pussy started to clench around nothing. He continued to assault your clit, soaking his fingers in your juices, watching the way he you grinded against them.

Your head was fuzzy when Scaramouche took his hand off your clit to take out his cock. You jumped feeling the head smack wet against your clit. "Tell me who you belong to," He hissed, swallowing back a groan as he rubbed the head of his aching cock on your clit, "Say it," He smacked your ass again, soaking up your mewl of pleasure.

Grabbing a hand full of your hair, he pulled your head back. "Who do you belong to?!" He reiterated, smearing his precum on your clit before pushing his cock inside of you.

His cock pulsed as it stretched you apart, your pussy swallowing it as he bottomed out. He let out a shaky moan, pulling out half way so he could bury his cock deeper inside of you. His hips angrily pounded into yours, each thrust made your moans rose in octave as his cock kissed into your sweet spot.

"Yours! I'm yours, Scaramouche!" You cried out, your legs shaking as you pushed back against him, struggling to keep up with his pace. Your whole body trembled nearly limp with bliss as he pounded his cock inside of you.

Your words sounded so sweet in Scaramouche's ears. He kept an arm tightly braced around you, holding you against him. He put a hand on your neck, holding your head and sinking his teeth into your neck. He pulled a fold of skin into his mouth, sucking and grinding his teeth as he moaned muffled into your neck.

"Fuck, you are so tight, kitten," His groaned, his mouth sucking wetly on your neck. He prodded his tongue against the inflamed skin. He was fucking you possessively, getting lost in the pleasure of your walls squeezing around his cock while you moaned and whimpered for him.

You let out a broken sob of pleasure, your body shaking as your orgasm hit you. The only thing you could focus on was him and how good his cock felt dragging along your sensitive walls.

Scaramouche continued to bully his cock inside of you, intent on fucking you dumber through your orgasm. You felt every pulse of his cock as it ribboned cum inside of you, his body shuddering with pleasure as his thrusts turned sloppy.

His cheek nuzzled against your neck as he pulled out of you. "Want me to run you a bath?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Mhm," You murmured tiredly. "And feed the cats to," He chuckled as he turned you around, supporting you as you leaned against him.

[sturniqlo]

Gender Reveal- C.S

summary: y/n and chris decide to have a intimate gender reveal just the two of them, later in the day they tell nick and matt

cw: mild cursing, fluff, happy tears :)

an: i made a poll earlier this week and YOU guys chose the gender! (it's deleted so u all wouldn't see what was chosen) very short :/

masterlist | positive masterlist

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eighteen weeks pregnant

"Y/n Y/l/n." Both Y/n and Chris look up and see their usual OB waiting by the door. Chris grabs Y/n bag and they both walk towards her. "Hey, you two!" She says cheerfully. "Hello, how are you?!" Y/n says. "I'm well, how are you and the baby?" She asks. "We've been good." She smiles, as she follows her. "Dad? How about you, how've you been?" She opens the door to the room they'll be in. "Pretty good!"

"Alright, so today will be like any other check up. But, I'll be able to see the gender of the baby. And, from what I remember from our last conversation you guys want me to write it in an envelope, correct." She asks the couple. "That's right!" They both nod. "Okay, Y/n go ahead and roll your shirt up for me." The OB gets the gel ready. "Ready? It's gonna be a bit cold just like those other times." She squeezes some gel onto Y/n's belly and she flinches at the cold gel. "Let's see here," She turns up the volume and the room fills up with the sound of a heartbeat. "There's the heartbeat, a very strong one." She giggles. Y/n gasps and looks at Chris who is looking at the screen then looks back down at her and hold her hand.

"That's crazy, my god." He mumbles. "Okay, here we have ten toes, they're all there, eyes, nose, mouth, ears." She points every one out. "At this stage, the baby can finally start to pick up on some sounds so it's great to start talking to them if you haven't already. The baby can also stretch, yawn, and make facial expressions. But looks like they're relaxing right now." They all laugh. Chris had already known all of this, thanks to the many apps he has downloaded. "Alright, I'm going to flip the screen to me to see the gender, any preference you guys have or think the baby is?" She moves the hand piece around Y/n's belly.

"Nope, we're fine with either." Chris says, "Yep, but I just have a feeling it's a girl. Not sure why but, if it's a boy I'll be the same amount of excited!" Y/n says. "Oh, okay, I know what they are. Let me go print the report out. You two want pictures?" They nod. "Here's a paper towel, hon. You can wipe it off and put your shirt back in place, I'll be right back." She hands her a handful of paper towels before she leaves the room.

"I'm excited! We're going to the bakery after this, right?" Y/n says, as Chris takes the dirty paper towels from her and throws them in the small trash bin. "Yeah, and we'll get to find out what the baby is! I'm equally excited as you are." He plants a few kisses onto her lips as he rubs her belly. A knock at the door brings them apart and the OB walks back inside the room. "Here are those pictures, and the gender of your baby is in here. Congratulations you two. I'll see you again in a couple of weeks. Enjoy your day!"

"Thank you!" They both walk out of the room and back to their car. At the bakery, ran by an elderly couple, they walk in and the sweet smell of baked goods makes them hum. "Smells so good in here." Y/n practically drools. "Chris! Y/n! Is it time?" The elderly lady, Jamie, squeals as she sees who has walked into her bakery. "Hi, Jamie! Yes, it's time." Chris laughs. "Here you go." Y/n hands her the envelope with the gender inside. "I'll be back in a few!" She says before disappearing into the back.

Chris and Y/n absolutely loved this bakery. They stumbled upon it a couple of months ago and never went back to any other bakery. A few weeks ago at their last appointment when they found out they were going to be able to know the gender the following appointment, they came to the bakery and places and order for a small cake for two people max and two of their big cupcakes. Jamie and Hank were excited at the thought of making their gender reveal cake for the young couple. The two had baked the cake and cupcakes earlier in the day and waited for the young ones to come in with the gender. All they needed to do was frost the right cake.

With one pink and one blue cake and two pink and two blue cupcakes sitting right in front of them they opens the envelope to see. "Don't be too loud, Hank. They're right outside." The old lady warned her husband. "Just open it!" She carefully teared the envelope open and saw the words of the gender in its corresponding color. "Oh well isn't that exciting, I knew it!" Hank said. "We both did, dear. Now come on let's frost them, don't want to keep them waiting too long."

"Here are the two cupcakes, and the cake!" Hank says as he comes out from the back. "Thank you so much, you two!" Y/n takes the bags from him. "Y/n, here the envelope. I sealed it back up." Y/n retrieves the sealed envelope from her. "Thank you!" Chris takes the bags from her. "Congratulations you guys! Hope to see you soon!" They both wave. "Oh we'll definitely be back!"

"It smells so good, we should've gotten some of the chocolate croissants. I ate the last one yesterday night." Y/n frowns as she places the bag with the cakes on top of the island counter. "I can run by later if you want me to go." Chris says wrapping his arms around her. "Thank you, you're the best." She kisses him. "Come on, let's cut the cake!"

Chris props up his phone on a tripod as Y/n takes a seat on one of the stools. "Okay, it's recording." Chris says, as he sits down on the stool next to her. He carefully takes the cake out of the box and sets it on the counter. "Oh, it's so pretty." She gasps, seeing the cake for the first time. "Alright, future child of ours. It's Mom and Dad and today we're finding out what you are! Boy or girl?" Chris says into the camera. "Mommy thinks you're a girl and I have no clue but I'll be over the moon for either. You can do the honor." He hands Y/n the knife. "Okay, let's close our eyes!" She tells Chris. "Careful, babe." He closes his eyes. "I'm cutting it, okay, next side!" She slices the cake. "Ready?"

"One, two, three!" Chris counts and Y/n picks up the slice once they open their eyes.

It's pink!

"It's a girl, oh my god. You were right!" Chris automatically gets up, holding onto his hat as it almost falls off. "Chris, holy shit!" She drops the slice back into place and Chris engulfs her in a hug. "We're having a girl!" He mumbles in her neck "I can't believe it!" The recording of the camera long forgotten. "This is crazy, can't believe you were right." Chris looks back at the cake, the pink crumbs seeping through. "A mini you, baby. Oh my god!" He covers his face with his hands tears welling up in his eyes. "Stop, you're making me cry." Y/n starts bawling. "I'm so happy!" Chris wipes his eyes and hugs Y/n who is sniffing.

Minutes later, they sit back down and try the cake. "Mm, delicious." They pick at the cake with a fork. "Oh! We're still recording!" Y/n points at his phone with her fork, dropping some crumbs in the process. "Oh, well! Looks like you're a girl! We're so happy and we can't wait to meet you, our little girl!" They cheer.

After eating half of the cake together, Chris facetimes Matt and Nick. "Hi, where's Y/n?" Nick says as he answers the call, still waiting for Matt to join. "Hello to you too." Chris scoffs and Y/n giggles besides him. "Hi, Nick. I miss you!" Y/n says as Chris presses the ring button on Matt's square. Seconds later Matt's face comes into view. "I didn't answer the first time because I'm on the fucking toilet." Matt's voice echos. "Are you guys doing anything later today?" Chris ignores Matt's words. "Nope, jus' staying home." Nick fixes his nose ring looking at himself through his square. "What he said." Matt says.

"Great, come over whenever you guys can." Chris says, Y/n leaning her head on his shoulder. "Why?" Nick says. "Do you not want to see me?" Y/n scoffs. "Of course I do!" He says. "Just come over!" Chris rolls his eyes at his brothers' stubbornness. "I'll make the pasta I always make for you guys." Y/n bribes them. "Oh! Nick start getting ready!" The call ends a few minutes later. "Can't believe I bribed them with pasta."

Both Chris and Y/n wanted to catch Matt and Nick off guard with the gender. Whenever they asked when they would be able to know the two always shrugged, already knowing the answer. "Let me go put the pasta to boil." She gets up and Chris jokingly swats her ass. "Chris!"

Just as the pasta is ready, Chris' phone starts to ring. "Hello, okay I'll buzz you guys in." He hangs up. "They're here." He jogs to the buzzer by the front door before unlocking the door and going back to Y/n to go over the plan. "Hi, Y/n!" Nick walks through it door and walks towards the kitchen. "Hi, Nick!" She hugs him. "I smell the pasta." He sniffs the air. "Do you want some already? Hey, Matt." Y/n says as Matt comes to give her a side hug. "Please, I'm starving."

Thirty minutes after they've all finished eating, they offer them the cupcake. "You guys want a cupcake?" Y/n asks. "Sure." Both Nick and Matt say at the same time. Chris walks to the fridge, and takes out the two individual boxes. "Here, but take a bite at the same time." Nick looks confused. "The hell? Why?" Chris groans. "Just do it." They open up the box of the cupcake and peel back the cupcake sheet. "You guys aren't having one?" Matt says. "No, we had one earlier." Chris goes to stand next to Nick.

As they go to take a bite, Y/n takes out her phone and starts recording. Matt pulls back from taking a bite and looks at the inside of the cupcake furrowing his eyebrows. "Why is it pink inside?" He chews. "Mine too- wait! No way!" Nick yells and gasps. "What?" Matt gets scared widening his eyes. "They're having a girl!" Nick throws his cupcake in the box and hugs Chris and then goes to Y/n to hug her. "Wait- Really?!" Matt smiles looking back at the bitten cupcake. "Yeah! We found out today!" Y/n giggles, and stops recording to hug Nick back comfortably. "Congrats, holy shit!" He daps Chris up and gives him a hug.

"I knew it! Matt owes me a hundred dollars." Nick goes back to his seat and takes a quick picture of the cupcake for memories before finishing it. Matt goes up to Y/n and hugs her telling her congratulations. "You thought it was a boy, Matt?" Y/n says, pulling away from him. "Mhm, I just had a feeling, not sure why." He goes back to bit seat and does the same as Nick.

"You're gonna have a little queen, oh my god." Nick laughs at his own joke.

[murdrdocs]

she’s driving me crazy

description. STILES STILINSKI finally gets another chance with you, and he won’t take it for granted

includes. SMUT 18+, riding, car sex, fem!reader, protective p n v, lots of making out, loser!stiles, awkward stiles, bi!stiles, exes getting back together, slightly manipulative reader, reader has easily malleable hair, reader wears makeup, drinking (but no drunk intercourse), bickering, scott guest appearance

wc. 6k+

a/n: long awaited stiles fic. bestie boo this one's for u. title from confidence by ocean alley. art credits unknown.

Stiles knows he fucked up. 

He had you, after almost a full year of tortuous pining, and he let you slip through his hands. All of it, your relationship with Stiles, really didn’t last more than two months. Two months where date nights were rain checked and eventually canceled. Sleepovers were lackluster, and nothing more than a movie playing in the back while Stiles worked over something that wouldn’t rest in his brain, leaving you alone in the center of his unmade bed. Promises were made, and never kept. It was a mess, a horrible, murky mess of Stiles’ own creation. 

He knows this. But he still allows himself to mourn what could have been. He grieves what was. All while nursing a warm beer that doesn’t sit well in his stomach, mostly because of the sight he has been doomed to acknowledge—also his own doing as he could definitely turn his gaze elsewhere. 

You’re tucked under the arm of some guy who looks nothing like Stiles, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse. Is that your dream guy? Or are you forcing yourself to branch out and try something that wasn’t him? He tries to resist the spiral that sends him on, and is only able to start crawling out of the self-deprecating and insecurity tunnel through Scott’s voice beside him. 

“What’re you staring at?” 

Scott reeks of alcohol and fruit-flavored syrup. If he wasn’t a werewolf, Stiles knows his best friend would be unable to stand straight by now. But Scott stands like his usual self next to Stiles, a big grin on his face probably from the attention he’s been getting from Kira. (It was sickening for Stiles to watch but he forced himself to be happy for the strong relationship his best friend has.)

Stiles’ immediate instinct is to lie. “Nothing.” He says it a little too fast. He tries to cover his slip up by taking a sip of his beer, but the flavor is unappealing to the point where the face of disgust he presents makes him look more guilty than he really is. 

Scott stares at Stiles, waiting. Stiles knows he won’t lie to Scott, not about something this small anyway, and it is only a matter of a few seconds before Stiles sighs. 

“Look,” he points at you and your suitor. “Don’t you think he’s making her uncomfortable? Look at that. He’s all over her. Probably reeks of Axe body spray.”

It’s then that the guy cracks another joke, your head throwing back in laughter just before you rest your ear against his chest. It’s so affectionate. As if you’ve known this guy for years, and not just mere minutes. 

Stiles flicks his eyes over to Scott, expecting to see his best friend analyzing the situation with at least a small amount of attention that Stiles is. Instead, Scott is looking over at Stiles, wearing what Stiles can only describe as a knowing smirk on his lips. 

Stiles steps back, a little bewildered. “What?” 

Scott, annoyingly, shrugs. He sips his drink, one he has solely for taste as Stiles knows, and only responds once he’s taken a long, slow swallow. 

“She seems fine to me. I thought you guys were broken up anyway.” 

“We are!” 

“Then why do you care so much?” 

Stiles can’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. He turns to face you and your human shaped bag of bricks once again, gesturing for Scott to do the same. His mouth opens, lips parted and tongue ready to spew out the analytics he’d been gathering this entire time in lieu of an excuse. 

Then Scott interrupts. 

“Do you want me to see what’s going on?” Scott throws a finger up towards his ear, one eyebrow lifted as he waits for Stiles to gather the implications and then make a decision. 

It takes Stiles longer to complete the latter than the former. 

He waits, thinks, looks at you and the guy. And then remembers the strict ‘no listening’ rule you all have set in place, the one he most definitely won’t betray in the name of jealousy, even if you aren’t particularly aware of all of the intricacies. 

When he sighs, it’s defeated and with his entire body. He knows he’s pouting, he assumes he resembles his teenage self—mopey and brooding. He doesn’t mean to speak through gritted teeth, but he ends up doing it anyway. 

“No. She’s probably … fine. I guess.” It hurts to admit, deep in Stiles' jealousy-filled gut. Scott’s way of comforting him is by clapping a hand on his shoulder, and telling him that you’re a grown adult who is allowed to make her own decisions, the same as him. 

Scott’s intentions aren’t understood until he points at someone in the opposite direction of you. A guy who, from the looks of it, has been eyeing Stiles for a while. He’s Stiles’ type. Exactly his type, actually, and Scott knows this. 

“Instead of sulking around …” Scott doesn’t need to finish his sentence in order for Stiles to understand. He only lingers for a few seconds, and then is pulled back towards the larger group by Kira’s eyes and grin. 

The guy on the other side of the bar is still watching Stiles. He’s smiling a small but confident smile, like he knows Stiles wants him as much as he wants Stiles. He tilts his head in a beckon, and Stiles is close to letting the guy pull him over there. Until he sees you step away from the man, smile dismissively up to him, and start towards Stiles instead. 

Instantly, it’s like a flip has been switched. 

He starts to feel the effects of the alcohol, even though he’d been nursing the same bottle the entire night. Still, he chooses to attribute the buzz flowing throughout his body to the overpriced beer and not excitement of finally having your attention. 

He watches your path, trying not to feel too disappointed as he takes notice of the way you’re struggling to walk in a straight line. 

You fall into his arms in a fit of giggles. Your head resting on his chest, your hands circling around his back. 

“Stiles,” you sing, long and drawn out and definitely drunk.  

He repeats your name in the same tune, placing his drink onto a tabletop next to him and abandoning it for good. Keeping you away from self destruction is his new main priority. 

You slump against him even more, turning yourself around and leaning back against his body. Your position leaves Stiles with nothing else to do other than stand stiffly. He knows that if you were sober, you wouldn’t be nearly as affectionate as you are now. He ignores the way your ass brushes against his crotch. He ignores the smell of your perfume wafting up to him, a scent he had the privilege of seeing you apply a few times before when you were dating. (The image of you getting ready for the day, lathering yourself in the oils and lotions and scents that worked to create your unique scent will never leave his brain, for better or for worse.)

He does his best to remain unaffected, but then you tilt your head up, the crown of your hair rubbing against Stiles’ shirt as you look at him. As soon as he glances down, he sees you pouting, clearly over exaggerated but it’s a look he, pathetically, will never be able to resist. 

“Why won’t you touch me?” You manage to sound pitiful, as if you had lost every single thing you hold dear to your heart in the last couple of minutes. 

In his response, he tries to remain neutral. Drunk or not, you know the game you’re playing, and Stiles foolishly believes that his knowledge of the ploy makes him insusceptible. 

“Because you’re drunk,” he platonically rests his hands on your shoulders and encourages you off of him. “And we aren’t together anymore.” 

You turn around to face him, grinning up at him like the cat with the canary as you tell him, “it didn’t stop us last time, right?”

That, and the way you almost throw yourself at some guy walking past, is enough reason for Stiles to link his hand in yours and pull you towards the others. Scott stares down at your interlinked palms for only a moment before Stiles explains his plan, which entails getting you back to your apartment before you do something you could regret. 

This isn’t an excuse for Stiles to continue hanging out with you. He makes sure he clarifies that to himself and his best friend before he’s pulling you out of the bar and towards his Jeep.

You’re both less than ten steps away from the entrance to the bar when you suddenly have your lips pressed to Stiles’. 

There is a moment where Stiles fails to resist. Where he reciprocates quicker than his brain can realize, acting on pure instinct and muscle memory instead of logic. He is unable to stop himself from getting comfortable, from linking this kiss to the last one he’d received from you. Hotter and messier than this one. (Lost in his appreciation to finally be kissing you again, Stiles fails to notice how you don’t taste like alcohol at all)

Only a few more seconds pass before Stiles reminds himself that you’re drunk, and that this is wrong. When he pulls away from your lips—regretfully, that is—he’s tempted into staying by the slight stickiness of your lipgloss and the almost-disgusting string of saliva that briefly keeps you two sewn together. 

You try to lean back in, but Stiles stops you with his hands on your shoulders. 

“You’re drunk,” he reminds you. 

You’re fixing him with a look, one that feels strong and weirdly sober. His suspicions have more proof to back them up when you say his name with the same matter-of-fact tone he had just used on you. 

“I’m not drunk.” 

He scrunches his eyebrows together, the muscles in his face mimicking the movement as well. His lips part as he nonverbally exclaims his confusion. He lifts one of his hands from your shoulder to hook his thumb towards the bar entrance. He looks around, for nothing or no one in particular, but as if the night will have an explanation that you would surely be willing to provide if he asks. 

He didn’t even need to ask before you provide an explanation. It’s cut and dry, matter-of-fact, spoken like it is the most casual thing in the world. 

“I faked being drunk so you could take me home.” 

Stiles knows what you mean. He’s not dumb. But he surely does feel it when he says, “If you didn’t feel well you could’ve just told Lydia. She would’ve taken you back to yours.” 

You roll your eyes. “If you don’t wanna sleep with me, that’s fine. Just let me know before I waste my time.” 

Stiles should stand up for himself. He should reprimand your attitude, and exclaim how unnecessary it was. Instead, he flounders and almost falls to your feet with the speed he clarifies himself. 

“No. I do wanna sleep with you. Like, really bad. But … um … well,” you lift your eyebrows and Stiles clears his throat. “How many fingers am I holding up.” 

“Jesus, fuck, Stiles.” He continues holding up his first three fingers on his right hand until you answer. “Three.” 

You lean in but Stiles takes a step back. And then another. And then another, until he’s standing against the wall of the bar and you’re standing at the edge of the sidewalk. 

“Walk in a straight line towards me.” 

You don’t seem happy about it, but you place one foot in front of the other over and over again until you’re in front of Stiles. Nothing more has to be said before Stiles places his hands on your hips, pulls you flush to him, and finally allows himself to kiss you. 

It’s been a while since Stiles had the privilege of kissing you. The last time, just a month ago, didn’t count in his mind. Sure, he remembered nearly every detail, but your shared inebriated state at the time overruled any legitimacy the encounter could have held. Now, it only acts as a reminder and motivator for Stiles to enjoy every moment of this that he can. 

Eventually, it would be smart, and preferable, to leave the outside of the bar and actually take you home where you two could be alone. But for now, Stiles presses his hands into the middle of your back as a way to pull you as close to him as possible. He has his legs spread, creating space for your limbs to stagger. Your hands rest on his shoulders, then at the back of his neck, then in his hair. Both of you are attempting to get as close to the other as possible, all while engaging in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. You both kissed cleaner when you were drunk. 

Now, outside this bar with your closest friends inside, and with nothing but the night (and the bouncer) as witness, you submit to the other. There is a level of appreciation in the way your lips slide together. There is a level of gratitude in the presses of your tongues against each other. There is an exorbitant amount of longing that is solved each time you jerk your hips into Stiles and each time he reciprocates. 

You thread your hands through Stiles’ hair the same time that he slides his hands down to your ass and squeezes, pulling you as close to him as possible and rubbing his thigh against the center seam of your jeans. You both groan into each other's mouths—Stiles from the way you tug just right on his hair, and you from the feeling of his leg between yours. 

Sensing—knowing that he did something right, something good, Stiles does it again. And again. And again. The steady slide of his thigh between your legs does the job. You let your head fall, leaning the top of it against Stiles’ chest just right under his sternum. 

The sound of you moaning Stiles’ name goes straight to his dick, with a few remnants traveling to his head, leaving him dizzy and with a steady growing semi. His actions make you grip his hair stronger. His actions indirectly cause pleasure for him, too. 

It all disappears when the sound of spitting—loud and boisterous, almost cartoonish—breaks up the moment. Stiles stops his movements. He lays his hands flat on the back pockets of your jeans as he turns his head to the side. 

The eyes of the bouncer meet Stiles and Stiles’ ears burn. 

While the bouncer doesn’t say anything to him, Stiles knows the message he’s trying to communicate. 

Get the fuck out of here. 

Stiles is forced to push you back by hooking his fingers in your belt loops. He’s still touching you, at least an extension of you, but then your hands drop to your sides and Stiles can feel his body crying out for you. The same way his body calls out for vital needs—food, water, sleep, entertainment. He squashes his emotions for a second, plasters on a—truthfully sympathetic—face, one that comes off more as a tight lipped smile than anything else. 

“Sorry, man. You — uh. You have a goodnight.” He throws a hand up to the bouncer, hoping it is received as friendly. When the bouncer returns the gesture, still with that same look in his eyes, Stiles heads down the street and pulls you with him. 

The walk to the car is tortuous. His boner keeps rubbing against his jeans, leaving him to stop every few paces, face away from the street, and try to adjust himself. After the third time, you were voicing your frustration, claiming that it was taking forever to reach the car because of Stiles’ worry about who could see his erection. He tries things your way, ignoring the way his dick calls for his attention and instead focusing all of his attention on you. 

The way your hips sway in your tight jeans. The way the wind blows your perfume to him and lifts the edge of your shirt in one, giving Stiles a peek of your skin. It’s such a small look, nothing more than a glimpse, and Stiles feels like a Victorian man the way he’s having to bite his fist at the next crosswalk to avoid groaning. The street lights illuminate your face in just the right ways, highlighting your makeup in an unnaturally ethereal way. Everything about you is driving Stiles crazy. There’s no way he’s going to make it to your house. If he doesn’t get to his car soon, he might pull you into the next bar bathroom that he could find just for a semblance of privacy. 

If he could just get to his Jeep. 

It’s then that Stiles realizes he’s been walking for far too long. He stops in the center of the sidewalk. You stop right beside him. 

Stiles doesn’t say anything as he turns around and leads you three blocks down the street, one street over, and then into the parking garage elevator. 

The way you’re grinning at him alerts Stiles of the words soon to come out of your mouth, definitely words that would be at his expense. He stops you while you’re ahead. 

It’s nice to have the position switched. Your back against the wall instead of his. His hands are still on your hips, but he uses them to push you into the metal instead of pulling you into him. You have that part covered, your arms once more thrown over his shoulders, pressed into the back of his neck and head, drawing him in until the pressure of his lips against yours is a little painful. 

In the rush neither of you have pushed the button, leaving the elevator stagnant on the ground floor. Stiles notices at the same time that you scratch his scalp. He moans, he really can’t help it. His mouth opens as you purse your lips again, and he feels a little bad but you aren’t deterred. In fact, you do it again, your nails scratching in just the right spot and Stiles feels like an animal the way he shudders and keens. 

He’s more human when he admits, “Missed this.” He presses his lips to yours again, pulling back with a smack. “Missed you.” 

Your lips slide against his with what Stiles can only describe as desperation. Pure, unadulterated desperation and desire. You’re breathing a little heavy, deep exhales through your nose and inhales in the in between moments, and it doesn’t turn Stiles off at all. He wants more of you. He takes more of you. 

He doesn’t know how long you two are in there, but it is eventually you who pulls back first, your lips visibly swollen and lacking any of the makeup that was previously on it. 

“Has the elevator been moving at all?” You could check for yourself. Just one look over Stiles’ shoulder and you could see that the small screen still displayed a digital ‘1’. Yet, you’re looking up at him instead. Like Stiles is the most important thing in the elevator. Like he’s the most important thing in the world to you. (Maybe it’s Stiles’ delusion talking, but he chooses to believe it either way)

Still, Stiles looks over his shoulder, confirms that he hadn’t hit the button at all, and leans back to correct his mistakes. 

The elevator beeps twice, bringing you both to the third floor, and as much as Stiles’ wants to continue standing there and just admire you, he can hear the door daring to slide close. Again, he pulls you out behind him. 

As soon as he turns the corner, Stiles is immediately made aware of the lack of other cars on the level. It’s a little eerie, and if he wasn’t about to get his dick wet he would possibly be on the lookout for potential threats that could turn one of the best moments of his life into another inconvenience. 

Your hands are on his shoulders, his back, his arms, as you hold onto him. 

“Why did you park all alone? Did you plan this? Were you trying to get in my pants all night?” 

Stiles digs into the front pocket of his jeans and searches for his keys. “No. There were other people parked here earlier. They’re just all gone now.” 

You hum unconvincingly. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Stiles.” 

As soon as Stiles has the passenger door unlocked, he holds the door open for you and stares, hoping the annoyance is overpowering every other feeling he’s currently having towards you. 

“In the back,” he tells you. You smile up at him, big and entertained, and then do as he says. 

He climbs in right behind you. At this point in the night, there was no point in attempting to get back to your apartment or his. Stiles couldn’t wait much longer, and you two are no stranger to the back of his Jeep. You’ve been in this situation before. 

It’s all completely effortless. You’re already in the process of slipping your jeans off whenever Stiles has the door closed. He mourns for just a second, pouting to himself over not being the one to take those sinful jeans off of you. But then you climb over his lap, situating yourself to hover just a bit above him. 

Stiles plants his hands on your hips, just like he did before, and pulls you to sit right over him, just like you have before. He knows that the status of your relationship has changed since the last time he had the privilege of being in this space with you like this, but that doesn’t mean the way you do things has to change, too. 

You were never shy before. You would always be quick to attach yourself to Stiles in whatever ways you could, just like you had been doing just a little earlier into the night. But that’s gone now. Now, you’re staring at him, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. 

Before you were together for a short time, Stiles had spent months pining. Months analyzing whatever he could about you. Months mentally cataloging your tells. And now, he calls on that information to declare that you’re hesitant. You’re nervous. No, not just nervous. You’re worried. Almost regretful. 

He tilts his head. “What’s wrong?” 

You shrug but Stiles knows you’re aware of what has you like this. He just gives you the time to voice it. 

Eventually, you say: “Will this change anything between us?” 

It’s his turn to shrug. “I dunno. Do you want anything to change?” 

You shrug again. 

“Well … do you want to keep going? And we decide that afterwards?” Stiles really wants to fuck you, but deep down he knows that if you stopped and got up off of him in this moment, he would be okay with it. Well, he would be okay with it after a few days. Maybe a week or two. 

A little part in him swells, jumps, and clicks its heels when you nod. 

“Yeah. That sounds good.” You press your lips to his once. 

“You just tell me when you decide, okay? I’m cool with whatever you’re cool with.” And Stiles means that. If he gets just one more time with you, if this is his final time with you, he would cut his losses and be grateful for the time that he was allowed. What else was he supposed to do? He would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize his spot in your life. 

Stiles can feel the warmth of your center is his hand when he trails his touch down. He cups your mound and his eyes flutter shut. He feels like a pervert for only a second before you start to work your lips down his neck and rock your hips into his hand. The way your mouth suctions around his favorite spot almost has him distracted enough to not notice your hands working on his pants. Almost. 

He can’t really tell in the dark, but he can slightly feel your once confident movements start to falter. You stop on his neck, keeping your lips as nothing but a pucker against his skin before you pull away completely to look down between the two of you. 

“When the fuck did you start wearing a belt?” 

Stiles doesn’t want to tell you the truth, he feels like it would be too embarrassing. Really, he knows it wouldn’t, but something about having to tell you that he decided to wear a belt because you always said he should makes him feel a little meek. So instead of filling the silence with the truth, he fills the silence with the clinks of his belt buckle as he undos it himself. 

“Recently,” is all he tells you when you’re still staring at him for a response. Somehow, it’s enough for you and your hands are back on his waistband. 

In record speed, your hands are down the elastic of his boxers and wrapping around Stiles’ cock. He doesn’t hiss, but he does shudder. He tries to hide it by pretending that the car is cold, which it was beforehand, but now it’s warm. It becomes warmer when you spit in your hand, wrap it around Stiles’ cock and pump him a few times, and then push your underwear to the side and hover above him. 

It really pains Stiles to stop you, but he does. He asks if you have a condom, then he asks if you want to use a condom, and the entire time he’s kicking himself. Because he can feel the warmth radiating. He has his tip already nudged between your folds, and just this small touch is already making him lose it. His nails are digging into your hips, he’s breathing harder than he was before, and he has to blink a few times to really focus on you. 

It feels like Stiles blinks and suddenly you’re tearing the foil packet open and slipping the condom over him. He watches it go down as best as he can, and the light doesn’t reveal much. Just the bottom of you and the tip of him is visible, the rest Stiles is forced to make out through squints and memorization. 

He’s just briefly dejected about the lack of visuals, but then your hands rest on his shoulders and he hears you take a breath and he knows it’s time. 

Stiles rests his hands on your side and looks up at you. 

You go down slowly. Softly. It allows Stiles to feel each delicious inch as they go by, revealing more and more of the inside of you as time passes. He battles between watching your face and simply basking in it. Eventually, he settles on the former. 

Your eyebrows are tightened just enough to show your discomfort. You have your lips parted, long breaths leaving them every so often, usually right before you sink down again. And Stiles has seen you take him before. He knows that you have been able to take him faster than this before. And then he wonders: is this your first time doing this, with anyone, in a while? Have you been as lost without him as he has been without you? Have you even attempted to fill that hole, and was your stunt earlier tonight just that: a stunt?

There isn’t time for him to ponder over his questions like he would have wanted to whenever you bottom out. It’s with a sigh, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his just briefly. 

You rest your forehead against his, and you both breathe together. Or, it’s more so you breathing and Stiles matching the pattern. 

You lean up, you move your hair out of your face, and you tell him, “Don’t remember it being this hard.” 

Slightly cocky, Stiles tilts his head.  At first he doesn’t say anything. He smiles, his eyes are heavy when they look you up and down, and then he rubs your back. “Take your time.” 

You take the time you need and then you start moving. Up and down. Up and down. Agonizingly slowly at first, and then faster when you get more comfortable. 

This is what Stiles has needed. This is what he has been missing in his life. You’re like a drug for him, and one hit seems like enough at the time, but by the time this is all over he knows he’s going to be searching for more. He’ll do anything he has to, so long as it gets him in a spot similar to this again. 

He searches for your hand, refusing to look away from the way your body moves atop of him for even a second. You help him out, bringing your hand to his, pressing the fingertips together, leaving Stiles to interlock them. He lifts your hands, looking at them in the white light that enters the foggy window. Somehow, this image is even more captivating. There is a more pornographic way the two of you are connected, one that demands Stiles’ attention. There is something about the innocence of this. He’s doing nothing but holding your hand, and Stiles feels like he might either lose his mind, or cum too quickly. 

He might do both. One after the other. 

You sink down on him again, a little awkwardly this time, but it does it for you. You hit a spot that makes your mouth widen and your eyes flutter shut. You search for it, and find it miraculously. Your head throws back as you hit that spot over and over again, pleasing yourself on Stiles’ dick. The image is heavenly for him. It’s euphoric. 

He lets his eyes wander down your neck, along your clavicle, and your shirt reveals just a bit of your bust but it’s not enough. With his free hand, he pulls the rest of the fabric down, and when he sees that you’re not wearing a bra, he almost cums into the condom then and there. He doesn’t wonder how he hadn’t noticed, he doesn't consider how he hadn’t taken into account the natural shape of your breasts pushing through the fabric, almost reaching out to him. Instead, he leans forward, presses his hand into the curve of your back, and attaches his mouth to the untouched skin. 

Your free hand sinks into Stiles’ hair. Your fingers weave through the back of his hair first, and then you make your way up to the front, pushing back his bangs blindly. 

Stiles peers up at you from his spot around your nipples. You’re still in ecstasy—your head now level once more, but your mouth still open and your eyes still closed. 

He detaches from your nipple to tell you: “Look at me.” 

It fuels Stiles’ ego when you do as told quickly. 

You’re looking at him on his command yet Stiles feels like he’s the one entranced. Because of your eyes. Fuck, your eyes. Watery, lazy, but your pupils are dilated. Your mascara has transferred to under your eyes by now, and it’s smudged a bit, making you look completely fucked out. Stiles thinks some of your makeup along your face has disappeared too, but it allows for a fresh skinned appearance instead. 

Really, there is nothing else for him to do except kiss you. It’s so messy but so good. You flatter in your movements on his cock, but Stiles feels absolutely no remorse when he takes over. 

He unlocks your hands and plants them both on your hips again. This time, he uses the leverage to pull you down on him again and again. He lets you lead the kiss, while he leads this. 

Your hands land on the leather of the seat behind Stiles' back and the foggy glass pane of the window. He hears your fingertips glide down the surface as he starts to fuck you harder, and then the sound is combined with your moans when your lips separate from Stiles’. 

You call his name, low and breathy. 

He hums. 

“‘m so close. Keep going. Just like that.” He nods. Then you add, “Little faster.” And he does as told. 

Your forehead pressed against his, the sweat on both of your skin making your heads glide more than anticipated. It doesn’t deter either of you. When your nose bumps against Stiles’, he kisses you again. When your head becomes too heavy for you to hold it up, he presses his thumb under your jaw, rests his fingers on the side of your neck, and holds the weight for you. 

“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, adding your name at the end to seal the deal. “Baby,” he says, and his heart swells when you hum in response. So he says it again. “Baby, you feel so good. Feel so good, babe.” 

He doesn’t know what more he says. He can vaguely recognize his lips forming the words and his own voice in his ears calling you the prettiest girl ever, telling you that he could never get this anywhere else, telling you he never wanted to get this from anywhere else. 

“Needed this so bad. I needed you so bad. I’ve missed you.” And just as his words finish, yours begin. 

“Stiles, Stiles. Right there. ‘m … I’m…!” 

He singles two fingers out, slips them between your thighs, and rubs along your clit until you’re shaking above him and holding onto his wrist between your bodies. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away, but watching you cum is too gorgeous for him to ever dream of making it stop. 

So he doesn’t. 

Not even when your eyes start to leak and your lips start to plead and you contract around him. 

“One more,” he asks. “I just need to see it one more time. Please.” 

The sound of him moving in and out of you is loud. He drifts his eyes down to watch it happen, groaning when he just barely sees a broken ring of white glinting in the fluorescents from the parking garage. 

It feels a little romantic when you cum and then Stiles follows right after. 

The Jeep is warm, the windows are foggy, and there’s an ache in Stiles’ thighs. He knows for every one of his aches, you have three. The condom has been removed, tied, and disposed of in an old paper bag Stiles had sitting on the floor of his car. His pants are pulled back up, but his belt is still undone. His shirt sticks to his skin and he really needs greasy food and a shower. 

But if that means leaving this moment, and never returning to it, he could put off his needs and wants for an eternity. 

You’re sitting next to him, redressed with the button of your jeans still undone. You’re staring straight ahead, trying to catch your breath as you rub the muscles in your thighs. 

Stiles doesn’t know what to say, so he licks his lips and he says, “Uh … do you … um. Would you like some … ice or something? For your legs?” 

You smile ahead, turn to face him, and shake your head. “It’ll be fine. Nothing a shower and good sleep won’t fix.” You pause. “And maybe some food.” 

Which is how Stiles ends up sitting in your bed, sipping the remnants of his Dr. Pepper as he watches you lather lotion on your legs with your towel still hanging off of your body. 

“Your food’s cold,” he tells you. He doesn’t tell you about the handful of fries he stole earlier, but he knows you’ll notice it and hold the grudge for later. 

Later. Will there be a ‘later’? 

“Be there in a second.” You start to walk back to the bathroom. “Should we go to that place in the morning? Or …” you look at your clock and wince at the time. “Later. The one with the really good pancakes?” 

Stiles is quick to agree. He would love to do something with you later. 

[bb-eilish]

Dirty little fantasies

pairing; master!anakin skywalker x fem!padawanreader

warnings; Fantasies, pinning, corruption kink, virgin reader, dom! anakin, sub! reader, nipple play, creampie, hand kink, dirty talk, praising, degradation, cunnilingus

a/n; i’ve never written for anakin before but i love star wars and i love writing smut so here u go!

Y/n was honestly surprised she ever became a Jedi apprentice. She was much older than the younglings, but Obi-wan and his own apprentice, Anakin, pushed for her training anyway. The council questioned who would be training her, as all of the masters already had Padawan of their own. Her hopes shattered when Master Yoda pointed out the obvious fact.

She was told the force was strong within her , not sure what that meant, y/n smiled and became excited anyway.

"Master, my Padawan is surely ready for his test. He has my full confidence. He will be able to train her." Obi-wan stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed as Anakin nodded, a serious expression scorched onto his face.

The council all had similar curious and questioning looks, but nodded anyways. "Alright, we will allow it." Master Windu sighed, putting his hand up. Y/n's eyes widened and every fiber in her being felt on fire, this is the most exciting thing she's ever experienced, and it hasn't even started yet.

The three of them exited the room and immediately a hurl of thank you's and smiles gush out of her towards the men. Their faces softened as they smiled.

—————

Y/n was now an adult, though, she wasn't very young when she became an apprentice, only several years had passed. Anakin was a great Master and she felt very lucky. The way everyone talked about him was fascinating, they praised him left, right, and center. They even became closer than she expected, being closer in age than other Padawan and Master pairs made that entirely possible.

"Master, wait up. Why are your legs so long." Y/n complained as she jogged up to Anakin's side once more, she swears he can take two steps and be a mile ahead of her. He chuckles before saying, "You ask that every time we walk together." Her nose scrunches at his teasing. But at the same time, her heart skips a beat and she swallows quietly. Though, she tries her hardest to keep down the way her body practically yearns for him. The hardest part is keeping the thoughts, the oh so delicious thoughts about him, to a 0 whenever he's near. The force is amazing in so many ways but a real pain in the ass when all she wants do is day dream about him.

"Great job by the way, the mission wouldn't have gone as well as it did without you. You're becoming a considerable Jedi." He looks over at her as she thanked him. He can't help but think about how much she's grown while being under his wing. In power and physically. Anakin was no liar, he couldn't possibly deny the fact she has matured into a fully fledged woman, Padawan or not, he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He had to push down the thoughts as well.

Anakin was fully aware of her daily thoughts. It made his day whenever he could know what she was thinking before she even entered the room. They were always innocent and random, until recently. Y/n clouded her thoughts much more, and at random times of the day and night, the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up, goosebumps would frost his skin and he had no idea why. The thoughts he could read were innocent in nature, but all about him. What he was wearing that day, how he decided to style his hair, certain things he said to her. His ego inflated each time and it made him even more arrogant and confident.

But alas, Jedi's were not allowed to become attached. He wondered if he needed to remind her of that, but he decided against it. Having a crush on him wasn't a crime.

—————

Anakin waited for her at her door that morning, he always does when they train at this time, which is only a few times a week. As he neared the door her thoughts became more apparent, at first she was busy with brushing her hair, then it was her tying her robes, and then they drifted off to him. He could see she was thinking about the time he had to help her untie the small knot she made in her robes. It made him smile, it was almost impossible to untie it. But his smile slowly faded as he realized her attention, unwavering, was directed to his hand. Not him untying the knot in general per say, but the way his calloused hand and metal one gripped the fabric, and how his very visible veins bulged through his skin.

He could sense how hard she focused on it, and how the thought of his hands sent her spiraling into day dreams. He was about to knock to end his spying before something caught him off guard. The waves of want that echoed from her, he could feel the stuttered deep breath she let out as she thought about his hands on her. How they would feel to prod at her most sensitive areas as he spoke downright sinful words towards her.

He felt like the air was knocked from his lungs as she thought in detail about the things he would say. The hair at the back of his neck reacted first, the goosebumps came second. "You're my prettiest girl , aren't you?" "Such a slut for me." "Use your words, angel." "You're mine, only I can make you feel like this." Anakin roughly shook his head before he breathed in and knocked on her door.

The thoughts ceased and his shoulders untensed because of it.

Y/n's door opened and there she was, smile as bright as ever as she greeted him. "Good morning, Master. A bit late aren't you?" She questioned, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand.

He mustered up a smile as well as he answered, "Apologies, I was talking with Master Yoda." He patted himself on the back for not being suspicious as he lied through his teeth.

—————

Training was different today. No doubt it was about what he had walked in on this morning, but he tried his best to act like something wasn't bothering him.

Sparring was especially different, he was acutely aware of whenever he even placed a finger on her. She didn't seem affected at this but he knew. He knew the things she wanted him to say to her, say to her when his hands memorized her body, set her skin ablaze in their wake. It had a carnal desire simmering in his gut as he gazed at her sweaty form pant from the work she was being put through. So when training ended he made his way to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face helped the heat on his skin, but not the heat starting to grow in him.

Anakin fell pray to his desires, now instead of her imagining what it would be like to be underneath him, it was him imagining what it would be like to be on top of her. Looking down to see the look in her eyes as he touched her, made her his. The sounds she'd make as he stuffed her full. The mere thought had his pants tighten significantly. Would she cry as he stretched her out? Would she beg him to keep going? Better yet, would she submit herself to him, his mercy?

He manages, somehow, to collect himself before he leaves.

"There you are, Anakin. There is a last minute mission I need you and Y/n to do" Obi-wan told him as he lead him to the holotable. "Do not let him out of your sight, we suspect he's behind Senator Amidala's assassination attempts. He knows what you both look like though, so make sure he doesn't notice you." He explained further, Anakin nodded, going into serious Jedi-Master mode.

"I won't fail you, Master."

—————

After Anakin explained the plan to her she nodded along and followed his lead to his speeder.

"He lives in-" He pauses as he points to the apartment building they both come up to. "That building, there is two doors leading out, one in the back and one in the front. I'll take the one behind it." He parks the speeder where he could get in it quickly, but isn't suspicious. "We're close enough to speak through the force, so if something happens let me know immediately."

"Yes, Master."

He nods at her before speedily walking to the other side of the small apartment building. She pulls up the hood of her robe and tries to look the least inconspicuous as she possibly can.

—————

It's been radio silence for a few hours before the front door opens to the exact alien they're here for. She quickly lets Anakin know.

She watches the alien closely, walking behind him at a distance he wouldn't find strange.

Anakin catches up to her, both the Jedis watch the supposed assassinator from afar enter a bar. "I hate bars." She groans as he drags the Padawan inside the building.

"Uh, Master. Won't our hoods be kind of out of place in here?" Y/n points out, noticing the lack of clothes everyone is wearing.

"Oh, yes. Clever thinking, Y/n." He says, narrowing his eyes in search for the alien.

They both take a seat at one of the tables, eyeing the place until Anakin spots the alien, he's at the bar, downing what seems to be his 3rd shot. He stumbles a bit trying to get off of his chair. Both Jedi watch him go down the hallway that has the bathrooms, but also the back door. So, Anakin flags you over as he gets up. "Uh, Master. Isn't he just going to the bathroom?" She questions getting close enough to the hallway to peer down it. It's empty, aside from the usual couple making out on the walls. It brings a blush to her cheeks. No sign of the alien though.

They both walk further down the hallway until they both feel the door about to be opened, so Anakin does the first thing he can think of. He pushes his Padawan against the closest wall and kisses her. Trying his best to shield both of their identities, he pushes himself further against her and puts his hands on her cheeks trying to hide her face. She gasps in his mouth and her hands can't help but grip his robes.

She's never been this close to him, the feel of his skin on hers, his hands on her, feels like a dream. His intoxicating smell already clouds her mind. But the feeling is over before she knows it, the alien has walked back into the main area again. Anakin doesn't waste a second before following him.

Y/n stands at the wall still, hand coming up to touch her lips. That was her first kiss. Her first kiss was with him.

—————

The outcome of the mission was good, they ended up catching him and Obi-wan was happy.

The next day was training again for Anakin and Y/n. This time it felt so intimate, Anakin's touch would linger far longer than needed and he found any reason to touch her. It had her head spinning by the time they were done.

It apparently didn't stop at training either, Anakin would lead her everywhere with a secure hand on her lower back. He didn't comment on it so she decided not to either, in fear of him retracting the hand.

When he wasn't near, her thoughts were even more out of hand. Now, when she met up with him she was shyer than normal. A part of him regretted the kiss, he enjoyed it but he worried it bothered her. That night he made his way to her room, he wanted to talk about it without anything hearing.

And just like last time he heard her thoughts, here he was again. This time it seemed like she was already in the middle of her fantasizing. Before he could understand what she was thinking about, he knocked on the door.

It opened, the first thing he noticed was her big doe eyes staring up at him curiously.

“Master, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” He asked, clearing his throat.

She nodded and he stepped inside.

The second he was all the way in he could feel the waves of want and desire once more, but this time they were all around him and it was hard to speak. Anakin swallowed, looking into her eyes as he began. “I wanted to apologize for what happened during the mission, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head quickly, “No No, it’s not that it made me uncomfortable. It was..” She pauses as she sits down on the edge of her bed. “It was my first kiss.” She flinches, she was always teased for not having kissed anyone while she was there.

He gulps this time, he can’t deny the feeling of pride that grew in him.

He sat beside her, contemplating his words carefully.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”

She turns to look at him, the only light in the room shining from her small lamp on her nightstand brushed against his face, making his features soft.

“Don’t be sorry, I, um.” She stops herself before continuing, fearful of her words.

Her master eyes her, “You what?” He speaks through the force, gaze narrowing at her sputtering.

“I enjoyed it.”

They both stare at each other, his eyebrows furrow as he watches her face. Y/n watches the inner turmoil that’s present on his as a lock of his hair falls in front of his eyes. A hand comes up to her wrist, it glides upward, over her neck, and up to her cheek. It cradles her face as his resolve snaps. This kiss has purpose, he hopes she can feel it. The way their lips brush against each other is erotic and she can’t possibly hold in the small moan that’s threatening to spill.

The jedi pulls away slightly to eye her, his mouth is parted as he takes in everything she’s silently offering. His breaths fans over her face and it sets her nerves on fire.

The second kiss is full of lust and want, his gloved hand finds her hip before he decides they’re not nearly as close as he would like. The hand on her cheek slides down to her chest and gently pushes her to lay on her back, though, his lips never leave hers. He situates himself on top of her and pulls away farther than before. Gazing at her lidded eyes and soon the pout settling over her lips.

“My prettiest girl.” He sighs out, reaching up to run a nail up and down her neck.

“Master.” She begins.

“Anakin.” He corrects as the nail on her neck drifts down enough to pull her shirt away from her collarbones.

“Anakin..” She obeys, even if it feels foreign on her tongue. “I need you.”

“I know…you should really keep your thoughts to yourself yknow that, Angel?” The name has her eyes widening and a smirk gracing his face.

“How could you think I wouldn’t find out about all the dirty little fantasies you have about me?” He switches hands so his gloved one is pressed next to her shoulder on the bed keeping him upright, while the other one meets her hip again to push the fabric of her shirt upward, Anakin eyes the newly exposed skin and tugs at his lip.

“M’sorry.” She breathes as a fierce blush settles over her face.

“No need to be sorry…” He drags his blunt nails up her torso as he drags her shirt up, goosebumps tickle her flesh as a result. Even more so when he leans down to hover over her, now, exposed breasts. It doesn’t take long for her nipples to harden partly from being out in the open air, but mostly because of him.

The Padawan holds her breath as he nears the mounds of skin, it starts with dizzying kisses up the valley between them and then continues with him teasingly licking around one of her nipples. She gasps, her bottom lip caught under her front teeth harshly.

Anakin takes a full nipple into his mouth and sighs as the sounds he knew would sound so pretty, leave her. Especially the ones where she moans his name in that breathy voice of hers. Her back arches and it sends her breasts even further into his face. He removes his mouth for a moment, only to envelope the other nipple and graze his teeth ever so slightly against it, he takes in her gasps and whines and they all go straight to his ever tightening pants.

He pulls away again, this time to lean up and kiss her. Messily their lips slide together, he even experimentally brushes her lips with his tongue. But she pulls away, “What are you doing?” She asks curiously out of breath.

“Open your mouth for me, kay?” His gaze goes back and forth between her eyes to her lips as he talks.

They kiss again and he does the same thing, so, she opens her mouth. His skilled tongue licks into her unexpectedly and Y/n moves her hands to his clothed chest for stability, well, mental stability at least. Anakin then sucks her tongue rather harshly and it sends moan after moan into his mouth. He swallows all of them gladly as he feels himself become even more worked up.

He would love to keep kissing her, he honestly thinks he could do it forever, but they must keep going. She whines and chases his lips when he pulls away this time and it has his eyes darkening. The shirt she’s half wearing is thrown somewhere on the floor as he dips down to kiss her stomach, down her belly button and along the waistline of her pajama pants as he hooks his fingers along them, dragging them down slowly.

The pink underwear she’s wearing has a frilly bow on the top and he couldn’t handle it. It was like he was opening up his present on christmas, his little, angelic, present that wants nothing more than to have him degrade her. How could he possibly deny that?

“Such cute panties for someone who’s such a little slut for me. Tell me, Angel, would you let me fuck you anytime I asked? Would you let me fuck you in my speeder? On the holotable in front of everyone?” He skims his lips against the hem of her underwear once more as he eyes her like a predator.

“Yes, yes, would let you touch me wherever you wanted.” She panted out, gripping the sheets beneath her.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” He asks, pricking the waistband with his teeth and dragging the offending material down her legs. She couldn’t speak, the sight and the feeling left her speechless and unbelievably wet. As soon as the last of her clothing was gone the smell of her sex was utterly intoxicating, so he did the first thing he thought of. Prying her legs apart and pressing his face against her cunt. Y/n didn’t have time to worry about her being the only naked one, for that she was thankful.

Anakin truly believed he could die happily right now.

“Maker, you smell amazing. Bet you taste even better.” He practically moans into her, the vibrations send jolts of electricity up her spine and it causes her legs to almost close. But the iron grip he has on her didn’t allow for that. Even when he licked up the expanse of her heat and suckled on her clit, her thighs were begging to give out by then. The new feeling of his tongue was addicting, the way he licked into her clenching hole had her head spinning and heart pounding.

“You feeling good, Angel?” He pants against her, opening his eyes to gaze at her already fucked out form. A moan leaves her as she nods. His ungloved hand lets go of her thigh in favor of circling her cunt and pressing his fingers against her hole. She chokes out a moan at the action.

His mouth only leaves her clit to speak as he fills her up, one finger at a time.

“So tight.”

It has her clenching and he hopes he’s able to feel that around his cock. The fire consumes her from the inside out and all she can do is take it.

Y/n’s moans become louder and more frequent, that paired with the clenching she’s doing around his fingers, he assumes she’s going to come. So before she can, he sticks in another finger and scissors them inside of her, coaxing out an orgasm the best he can.

“Come for me, Y/n.”

Her limbs tense up as her eyes clamp shut, said fire is spreading through her, every finger, every fiber. The euphoric feeling is prolonged as much as possible because of his fingers and the mouth still sucking her pulsating clit.

When she comes back down he stands up, gripping his shirt and pulling it from his body. In her frazzled state, she eyes his stomach, his abs more specifically. His chest too, the way it heavily falls up and down from his deep breathing is hypnotic. His belt is pulled off, and soon he’s unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down and off. She can easily see the outline of him through his briefs and the fire that was just released in her seems to have come back.

Anakin watches her face closely as he slips down his briefs and kicks them off. Her gaze on his cock doesn’t last long he notices, her eyes fall to his hand that’s currently gliding up her calf. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You really like my hands, don’t you? Even the metal one?” He smiles at the end.

She nods shyly.

So he takes a detour, his hand comes up to her face, traces her jaw, then traces her bottom lip with his thumb. Her breathing changed almost immediately at that. He wonders something for a moment, so he trails his hand downward, ghosting over the base of her throat. She bites her lip again as he loosely grips her neck.

“So pretty with my hand around your neck. Are you ready for me, Angel?” He mumbles. She finds it hard to speak, the intense eye contact is quite distracting and intimidating.

But she finally gets out a “Yes, Anakin.” After he swats her thigh with his metal hand.

The hand around her neck doesn’t budge as he settles in between her thighs and wraps a leg around his waist. He watches his tip tap her clit and tease her until she’s whining. He can’t hold up the act for long though, he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t push inside of her soon. The initial stretch doesn’t feel good, even if Anakin is pushing in rather slow, it still has her flinching.

“It’ll feel good, Angel, don’t worry. Just wait.” He tells her, concerned. She nods in return, holding onto his waist loosely. He keeps his slow pace until he fully bottoms out, he’s sure he could come right now. Her walls latch onto him like a vice and she’s so, so, wet for him. “Fuck, Angel. So wet and tight for me.” He praises breathily.

She clenches at that and it has his brain short circuit. All he wants to do is move, move until he comes inside her, but he waits until she’s ready.

“You can m-move.”

The first experimental thrust is intoxicating for the both of them. He was right, it does feel good. Just him inside her feels good. Every vein and ridge is felt and she makes note of each and every one of them. Another thing she notes is how deep he is, she swears she can feel him in her stomach at this point.

It doesn’t take him long to set a good starting pace, one that isn’t too rough but still satisfying.

“Anakin, you feel so good.” She moans, hips absentmindedly raising to meet his thrusts. The hand around her throat becomes tighter as he groans out.

“Flip over.” He says all of a sudden, pulling out. Her reaction time isn’t very good right now so she furrows her eyebrows. Far too slow for Anakin, so he takes it upon himself to manhandle her onto her stomach. She lays flat against the bed as he forces open her legs again. This time when he pushes in, the stretch is delicious. It has her pushing her ass against him, “Already such a slut for me.” He mumbles as he hovers over her back.

One particular harsh thrust has a loud, pornographic, moan leaving her kiss-swollen lips. He narrows his eyes as his flesh hand presses into her spine, moving upward until it reaches the back of her neck. It swivels to the front, lingers over her windpipe, and drags up to her mouth, pressing firmly against her lips. So firm that her head is lifted into his shoulder as he begins to jackhammer his hips into her.

Leaning down to her ear, he begins, “Such a perfect cunt for me, Angel. Gonna fuck you any time I get the chance.” He groans, grinding into her before thrusting again. The moans leaving her vibrate his hand and he can’t help but thrust faster.

Her brain feels like goo and she hopes he doesn’t ask her anything right now. But, of course.

“Do you like my cock, Angel?” He asks as he moves his hand for her to answer. She only whines and nods, hoping that’ll suffice. But it doesn’t. He smirks as he leans in again, “Use you words.” His tone has goosebumps prickling her neck as she tries to muster up something to say.

“Mm, I- I love it, mm, Ani.” The nickname gets him where it hurts, he can feel how close he is. So, he abandons her mouth and moves his hand in between her body and the bed, circling her throbbing clit.

His metal hand grips the back of her head and pushes it into her sheets, keeping her quiet as he continues abusing her leaking cunt with his cock and fingers. Just as he begins to feel his orgasm coming even closer she babbles and moans, “Ani, I’m, oh my god.” As she clenches around him sporadically. “Good girl, come around me.” She does just that and it pushes him to the edge immediately, his hips stutter and his groans fill the room, he pushes to the hilt as he comes inside of her. Filling her up until it’s leaking out.

They both pant as he pulls out and she turns around. Anakin places a kiss on her lips, once, twice, three times before speaking, “You did so good for me, Y/n. So proud of you.”

“Thank you, Master.” She lazily smiles.

[satoruhour]

hello!! ive been lurking on your acc for a little bit and i absolutely adore your writing like omg!! but earlier i got to thinkin about toji (as we all do) and i was thinking about how vulgar i imagine him to be in a sexual context and it makes me like soo shy and im not shy 🙄 im just obsessed with the idea of him saying really filthy shit to us and then practicing what he preaches yk

PRACTISE WHAT YOU PREACH

a/n: i keep falling asleep on the couch writing. and thank u for the inspiration for the name LOL

wc: 2.4k

warnings: reader has the same bite to her as toji does but gets shy when said man says filthy things, dom!toji, implication of sex in parts of the drabble, (public) dirty talk, pet names, he calls you ‘whore’ and ‘slut‘, toji calls you ‘mama’ once, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, spitting (on hand and in mouth), p -> v penetration, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, riidng, praise, degradation, daddy kink at the end, creampie / breeding kink, brief oral / cunnilingus @ the end, n*sfw under the cut

fushiguro toji is a vulgar man inside and out. It’s obvious when he tells the teenage boys to go fuck themselves when he catches them looking at you and you have to slap his bicep, or perhaps grabbing a piece of your ass while waiting in line to pay for groceries and all you can do is send him a nasty glare and a strong nudge of your elbow.

he doesn’t mind his baby fighting back, especially with how easily he can overturn the tables and have you squirming and breathing heavily whenever he gets you under him in the bedroom.

it comes to light first when you’re talking with a co-worker at a company party, talking casually with them before toji comes over with both your drinks. he’s tamer, then, sucking up to your insufferable colleagues even if they didn’t know what they were saying. this dude was clearly eyeing you, too, despite knowing toji was your plus one, and at that point the poor man has had enough.

“how ’bout you invite him back to our hotel and let him watch as i fuck you? maybe then he would stop fucking starin’.” toji passes you your drink as he whispers it, albeit the last part filled with mild bitterness, not entirely as secretive as he would like to be because the colleague’s eyes are widening immediately. he swallows his saliva at the large stature of your boyfriend’s and you just know he did it on purpose. but when you don’t reply and bark back at him with annoyance, toji’s lips curl in a smile, a light bulb going off in his head at his discovery and he’s been incessant since.

“yeah? how ’bout you clean a bathroom for once, fucker,” you roll your eyes, throwing a rag into the bathroom sink, disgruntled at how your boyfriend couldn’t even clean his own sink. it was beyond him to clean the place where water flowed everyday but when he told you that all you could muster was a look of disgust.

you were in no mood for him when you saw him creep in behind you in the mirror, eyes trained on the male who just mutters apologies into your neck, kissing the skin there like a tease and resist the urge to shiver, keeping up your angered expression.

until his words hit. “’m sorry baby, shoulda known better than to say stupid shit like that. how ’bout i make it up to you?”

“like what, toji? you gonna get on your hands and knees and scrub the floors yourself? cause i’d like th—”

“i’ll do it,” but not for the reason you think, “i’ll do it if i get to eat my pretty girl’s pussy out. and then let me pound her while she watches how good i make her feel.”

needless to say, your panties were thrown in the washing machine immediately as he made your moans echo in that squeezy bathroom, and the sink ended up being squeaky clean for the next few weeks.

it’s the best way to get you to shut up and sometimes the way your lips move as you’re rambling about something or how your figure looks as you’re reaching for the tv remote and spouting profanities is just so hypnotising. he’s obsessed with you.

toji stares blankly at you while you’re explaining the way to work the air fryer for the third time that day, and it’s not his fault you’re currently in a camisole. it’s accentuating your tits and the home shorts you’re in isn’t helping either, because he can easily swipe it to the side to fuck into you.

you snap your fingers in front of his face, “wha—? listen to me when i’m talking to you, babe.”

toji just rolls his eyes, something he knows you hate, and he watches your outburst with a lovestruck smile. he catches your snapping hand with ease, switching to holding it. “hey! what did i say about rolling eyes?”

he leans forward, placing his other hand dangerously close to your ass, but the forehead peck distracts you. “i heard you the first time, darling.”

“you—!” toji just laughs at your surprise. sure, he was old as fuck but he wasn’t entirely clueless about the air fryer, but he let you explain and drone on about the settings, knowing you’d be focused on the device. that way, his eyes could travel unforgivingly and just like that, the playful moment is overcome by his vulgar disposition again, the act of his body craving yours before his words made you freeze on the spot.

“but enough about air fryers, hm?” the sight of toji’s hand almost covering yours was enough to send you reeling, but it’s increased when he drags your hand down the hardness of his front. you can feel the ridges of his abs, down, down, down until his bulge. he guides you to squeeze his dick, a guttural groan making its way to the front of his throat. “how ’bout you show me how much your eyes can roll back as my cock disappears into you, huh?”

your breath hitches at the proposition and toji’s smile spreads into a grin at your reaction because it’s like this every. single. time. unconsciously your hands start to undo the knot of his sweatpants, pulling it under his hardened shaft, the other sighing when your hand finally wraps around it. it aches so much that he finds himself thrusting into your hand briefly before you start stroking.

toji gathers a blob of spit on his tongue and maintains eye contact, spitting directly onto his cock for some lubrication and you take a deep breath, slick noises sounding out throughout the house. he makes sure to do it again later. “getting it ready for your pretty little cunt, aren’t you? filthy girl— f-fuck…”

the words make you rub your thighs together, stepping closer to him while you continue stroking, up, down and up, down, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine. pushing him until you’re out of the kitchen, he lets you shove him onto the couch, a loud groan leaving his lips when you descend to your knees and your mouth closes around his cock.

“s’big,” you whimper, swirling your tongue around his angry tip and going back to deepthroating him, desperate to feel his dick down your throat.

“oh— s-shit, baby,” toji pulls back the hair from your head, seeing your eyes barely being able to focus as it hits the back of your throat, “that’s it… suck it like the dirty whore you are.”

the degradation is reason enough for you to bob your head quickly, moaning around his length as your mouth drips drool mixed with the pre-cum from his tip. toji chokes out your name, hips bucking into your warm mouth while your hands find purchase on his thick thighs, taking him down your throat until your nose meets his pelvis. soon he‘s cumming down your throat with grunts, feeling the hot semen rush into your cavern.

“stay there, good fuckin’ girl,” the other groans out when your eyes shift to him, swallowing bits of his cum with a small stream of tears filling your lash line that threaten to fall. he notices your hand sneaking into your panties and he smirks, bringing you off his cock to catch your breath. you sputter and gasp, hand still lightly wrapped around him. he’s still hard after cumming, but he’s also more sensitive.

“can i ride you now?” you ask like it’s any other question, shimmying out of your underwear before wasting no time to straddle him. his tip pokes your pussy and you grab him, dragging him up and down your folds to collect your slick. before long, you’re grinding on the bottom of his shaft, your labia spread along his dick and toji is charmed by how you move on him with needy moans and two hands on his torso.

“sure ya can, doll, but…” you can tell toji’s impatient, as with you, so with a roll of your eyes (toji mumbles under his breath that you’re a hypocrite), you sink down slowly on him, the arousal of your cunt wet enough to take him without prep. inch by inch you take him deep, head thrown back as toji enjoys the view — the curve of your body, how your nipples poke through your camisole — and he smiles as his baby calls out his name from being so full.

“o-oh my god… toji—” the last bits of his name fades out when he moves his hips experimentally, the pain soon fading into pleasure and the feel of his cock in you causes you to lean forward.

“yes?” he grins, body now propped up with his elbows, meeting you halfway, “is my princess tired already?”

“n-no, i can do it,” you mewl when your hips start to bounce, the stretch of his dick feeling so good. he’s reaching places in you that you can’t even fathom, “i can take you…”

toji groans softly at your declaration, body twisted in such pleasure as you soon find a rhythm on him, relishing in the way toji watches you with lust in his eyes. he helps you with a hand on your hips, but the other pushes your top past your tits, mouth latching onto your nipple and taking one into his mouth and the gesture halts your movement for a bit. a chill runs through your body as he swirls his tongue around your bud, a breathless moan leaving you as toji looks up at you through hooded eyes.

it’s got you clenching, and toji hums into your chest, moving to your other nipple before releasing it with a pop! “tired?”

you make a small sound of agreement, the sensations of his thick cock in you paired with his lips on your tits and the burn of your thighs too much for you. he happily indulges you, bringing your body close to him before he plants his feet on the sofa and fucks up into you, a choked moan leaving you. that one thrust was just to tease you, limping into his embrace as he hears the slap of his balls onto your ass.

“you’re taking me alright,” toji laughs, cut off by a moan when he continues his ministrations, entranced by how you’re so wet you manage to leak down his length. with how your pussy is drooling, he rams into you easily, obscene noises of your sopping cunt against his pelvis as your sounds of pleasure comes out in little breaths.

“so wet,” toji comments softly, cock twitching from how your boobs felt against him and how your pussy feels so damn tight. it hugs him so snugly he has to will himself not to cum, but you’re making it difficult by how you call out his name in whines. “don’t tell me she was wet earlier already?”

you can hardly focus on his questions as he bullies his cock into you, body rocking from his relentless hips and the friction of your clit against his skin, but you mutter out a yes, a high-pitched one that’s got toji chuckling.

“my baby loves it when i talk dirty, huh?” you whine into his neck, arms tightening around his neck, “she loves it when i tell her how much i want to slam my cock into her pussy, yeah?” toji is ruthless, continuing to thrust while his words have very much the same effect. “or maybe she wants me to say how i want to cum deep in her cunt, filling her to the brim. shit… does she want me to fuck a baby into her?”

you clamp down around his cock with a loud moan and he stutters, “gotta stop clenching around me, darlin’, f-fuck.”

“y-yeah… wan’ that…” you pull away from your hiding place to babble out, eyes close to closing and drool dripping down the sides of your mouth. “wan’ all your cum, daddy.”

toji sucks in a breath at the name drop and in a second, he’s switching the positions. he admires the sweat on your skin and your heaving chest, and for the first time he’s able to see just how soaking wet you are, along with the stretch of your pussy on him.

“wan’ you to make me a mommy…” you mewl softly, and that’s all it takes for the other to start moving again because if it’s anything he loves more than seeing you crumble at his words, it’s how you tell him what you want.

you can feel toji twitch in you at that, but you have close to no strength, letting him thrust into you with vigour that’s running out too — he’s too besotted with your moans and face that’s morphed into pleasure, along with your whiny pleas.

“c’mon, open your mouth, mama,” toji pulls on your bottom lip with his thumb, “stick out ya tongue.”

you obey, hand squeezing his bicep as he gathers saliva in his mouth again, thrusts stopping briefly. he can feel your hips move, but you’re still focused on how toji purses his lips and how the spit leaves his lips — the long line of spit that descends slowly onto your tongue and the tension that surrounds it tells him you love it.

“attagirl,” he grins, wiping the corners of your cavern as the pace starts up again, and it’s so sudden you already feel like cumming.

“g’nna cum, daddy,” you mutter out, legs closing around him when you feel the familiar coil of your abdomen and toji just holds you closer, intoxicated with the moment that he wants it to last. “gonna—”

your eyes are blown wide when toji secretly reaches down to press a thumb into your clit, drawing lazy circles. that’s enough for your orgasm to come crashing down on you, pussy clenching hard on the other.

“daddy— oh my god!” toji still continues to rail into you, whimpers of his name spurring him on until you’re moaning out again as his cock spurts his cum deep in your cunt, filling you with his load until it spills out.

toji immediately drops down and starts to lap at your clit, a first class seat to his cum leaking from your pussy, laughing when you hardly care about it staining the sofa, too cockdrunk to care about reprimanding him.

“so pliant,” toji uses a finger to push his cum into you, “maybe i should get you like this more often, heh.”

[goosita]

first of all i love you. really. everything that you're writing is making my life so much better, so thank u <3 if that's okay for u, could you write something where reader is a single mom, she has a little girl and her daughter is very attached to billy? and it's the most sweetest thing ever cause billy loves her, calls her little princess (very sweet tooth 😭) one night, her daughter asks billy to read a storie for her to sleep and he does so and in the end, she says something like "i wish you were my dad" and it's just so cute and funny cause she gagged everyone, reader is like "babe!!!!" while billy is in shock but at the same time his heart is melting 🥺🥺 (sorry if this is too much, just write if u want!)

oh im. gonna cry and sob and piss everywhere this is the sweetest softest thing ive ever read yes oh my god

billy would be so so sweet with your daughter, especially if she was around 4-6 years old. at first you were worried that a man like him wouldn’t want anything to do with a single mother, especially one as young as you. but he never asked you to explain, and never judged you for it. all he ever did was treat you like a queen, and your daughter like a princess.

and your little girl is just enamored with him. she follows after him like a little duckling, so much so that billy starts to call her “ducky”. it makes her giggle every single time, always makes billy smile all warm and fond. they get on like a house on fire, your man and your baby girl. billy teaches her things like how to ride a horse, how to tie all kinds of knots, how to rope a little goat even. your daughter tells you one evening, her little face very serious, that she thinks “billy knows everything, mama. everything!” you want to let her believe it for as long as possible.

on this particular day, all 3 of you had spent the day together. billy had showed up bright and early to take you for a picnic out in a meadow behind your house, a daylong excursion that lasted until the sun slowly set. it was late spring, cicadas beginning to sing in the tall grass. once it got dark outside, billy pulled out a jar and showed your daughter how to catch fireflies. once they had about 10 of them, they sat on the blankets with their heads ducked together to observe them, giving each one a unique name.

“let’s call this one tommy,” she says, pointing at a bug near the bottom.

“perfect name, ducky. how’d you get so good at this?”

your little girl giggles, shrugging and letting billy name the next one. it makes your heart so happy to see a man with so much patience and love for your daughter.

when you finally return to the house, it’s time to get your kid ready for bed. tired and pliant from her long day outside catching bugs and weaving flower crowns (that of course billy taught her how to do), she goes down without much of a fight. she does ask billy to stay and tell her a bedtime story, though, and he’s never been one to deny that sweet little face whatever she wants.

you half-listen as billy spins some wild tale about a princess who slay dragons herself, one who doesn’t need a prince to come and rescue her. she’s strong and brave and guess what? she looks just like your little girl, same hair color and little lilac colored dress. his story makes her smile, even as her sleepy eyes begin to blink more slowly. when he finishes, he leans down to kiss her forehead softly and tuck her blanket around her small little body.

“i wish you were my daddy,” she murmurs sleepily, rubbing her eye with one small fist. you see billy freeze and slowly look to you, unsure what to say.

“oh, baby—“ you start, taking a step forward. billy gently cuts you off, which you welcome, not sure what to tell her.

“you know, ducky, sometimes i wish that too,” he whisper conspiratorially. her eyes light up curiously.

“really?” she asks, looking up at him.

“mhm,” he says with a nod. “but i think this little thing we have going here is even more special. you know why?”

she waits for an answer, eyes full of curiosity and wonder at the man sitting on the edge of her bed.

“because i didn’t help to give you life, life gave you and me to each other. and that’s pretty special, don’t you think?”

your little girl smiles, nodding her head. you swallow hard, your eyes feeling a little misty at the way he loves your baby and she loves him. it’s so pure, so unconditional the way they’ve attached themselves to each other.

billy smiles at her and brushes her hair away from her face, giving her chubby cheek a soft caress.

“sweet dreams, baby girl.”

“goodnight billy,” she says with a little yawn, snuggling down into her pillow. billy blows out the oil lamp beside her bed, following you out of her bedroom and closing the door softly.

“i’m sorry if i overstepped, i didn—“ he’s cut off by you grabbing his face and pulling him down into a dizzying kiss. you smile against his mouth when he doesn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss you back, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer.

“thank you,” you whisper when you finally break away for air. “for loving both of us, for taking care of us.”

“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for that. i’ll always be here to take care of my two best girls,” he says with a grin, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “and who knows? maybe one day soon you’ll let me put a ring on that pretty little finger and that little girl in there can call me whatever she wants.”

[bomber-grl]

Nico Di Angelo fluff alphabet

₊˚⊹ Pairing(s): Nico Di Angelo x Reader (no pronouns/no specific godly parent)

₊˚⊹ Warning(s): cuss words, could be ooc, T*ktok/gen z humor/language

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

He adores everything about you

No,it isn’t some cringe ass thing I’m saying to say

I honestly do believe he likes everything about you

Sure he’s bias on what things

But he loves the way you laugh, smile and even those cringe ass jokes you make.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Honestly I definitely see nicos favorite part of your body being your hands.

He loves his hair being played with and he’s always moving your hand to his head or his head to your lap.

Your lap being his second favorite place because he can rest there whenever.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Nico definitely hates physical touch of any kind

I think we all know that, however you’re the exception.

So going on, he sleeps all over the place

But, he likes when you hold him. Poor boy had been traumatized enough so having his trust and comfort and enough for you to cuddle him is 💯

So it’s pretty comforting to be able to hold him and cuddle whenever.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Honestly broski is glad ur even dating him

He’s an obvious introvert and prefers you and him alone somewhere like in your room or outside having a picnic.

Definitely prefers just the two of you but if you decide to go out he doesn’t say anything in the moment but suggests u don’t ever do that again later on.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Def emotionally stiff and outwardly constipated

Inwardly his emotions are out of control

Ofc that changed eventually but still

He learns to be more expressive and it gets to the point where you’re the only one who understands what he’s feeling/thinking

F= Future (What are their plans for the future? Do they see themselves getting married, having kids?)

He doesn’t rlly have plans of a family or kids or anything

He’d only ever thought of surviving and recently, you

He doesn’t really need anything besides his friends and you, especially you

So don’t expect him to ever bring up kids or anything because u and Hazel are his family so 🤷‍♀️

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He likes giving you stuff but not rlly

He likes pampering you and stuff but rlly he just shoved it in your hands and if u mention it, well just don’t.

Same vice versa except he down rlly know how to react so he’ll look like he’s trying to shit but can’t

Be gentle cuz broski might like ur gifts but can’t express it

It’s ok tho 👍

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Def not into pda

However, he will still hold your hand and partially because he wants to be close and protect you and cuz you’ve been arguing that he’s too cold and needs to warm up

Most likely to hold your hand while you two walk alone or if he holds your hand while he has it in his hoodie pocket

The second one happens mostly during winter

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Horribly

Yea he knows you’re strong and capable but he’s horribly protective

Anyone who hurts you will know his wrath and he’s not afraid to make sure it’s known

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Def becomes a bit of a jokester after you get past his cold demeanor

His humor is so broken and mostly consists of online bs

Definitely includes some dark humor too

I can def see him joking around w u or even playing pranks on each other.

It seems like he’s a completely different person when he’s joking around

Def scares the campers

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Mostly in short but sweet pecks on the lips or cheek

Mostly on the cheek

Doesn’t rlly kiss that often but he likes being kissed

Mostly around his face and stuff but it don’t matter

Kisses change depending on the mood too so sometimes it’s desperate and even a bit heated

Nothing ever rlly comes of it tho

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He’s always showing you his love and care

Even the most obvious ways, in which he’s hugging you and wanting to be close

And even if it’s most dreadfully annoying, his love language is to scold or even tell u off for scaring the shit out of him when it comes to monsters and stuff.

So yes Nico Di Angelo loves you even tho at times it seems like he doesn’t,if you ever doubt he doesn’t love you he’ll be seriously hurt

M = Melt (What do you do that absolutely makes them melt?)

All the stupid shit you do

Especially for him

Like going out of your way to buy him a bouquet and accompany it with a cringe love letter.

Or even singing him a romance song to “proclaim” your love despite the fact you’ve been together for a good while now

He honestly finds it endearing so don’t ever stop

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

His worst nightmare is losing you

He lost basically everyone in his life and you’re one of the good things left of it

So when he wakes up from a bad nightmare he appreciates you being there and rubbing his back or just hugging him

O = Obvious (How obvious do they make it that they like you?)

Not obvious whatsoever

To you (if you’re really oblivious or the average person)

Let me elaborate

Nico is very obvious if you know the difference between his normal and unnormal behavior/ if you can read him.

Otherwise you don’t got a clue

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Cringe ass ugly ass nicknames

Based off your godly parent and powers and stuff

Def goes along when u call him pookie wookie or anything of the sort

Would be disgusted if u actually meant it

As if he wasn’t calling you his sugar booger just a sec ago

Hypocrite.

Q= Quiet (How are the calm, quiet moments with them?)

Incredible

It’s nice to just lay back and admire the stars or even each other in silence

No matter how cringe he insists it is, it’s still obvious how much he loves it especially when you get to see him smile.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

R= Romance (How romantic are they? What are their go to ways of being romantic?

Kinda see him as a romantic

But like doesn’t know how to be romantic

Yknow?

He definitely reads romance books, listens to romance songs but never saw himself being in a romantic relationship

So he’s rough around the edges but once y’all become comfortable he goes out of his way to show u affection

Kissing your cheek, laying on you, buying you food, etc.

S = safe (What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?)

Cuz you’re u

You’re his boyfriend/partner and you’d have to be super close to even have this level of relationship

You guys can joke around without it being awkward or forced and that’s what he loves

He feels especially safe when he’s tucked warmly in your arms

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

It took awhile

He was pretty closed off and traumatized so it makes sense

But once y’all got closer you were inseparable so it was worth it

T= Tend ( How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?)

He’s not exactly a healer but he uses his scariness to give u the best treatment

He’s very cold to others during this time and on edge with anything involving you.

Very protective as well

If he’s ever sick or injured the he’d appreciate if you didn’t speak too much or loudly

Don’t coddle him, he hates it

Acting as if he doesn’t smile when u do)

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He’s pretty much like

“Cowabummer” if it’s sum not that major

Like he’ll sympathize but move on

If it’s major he def gives u space and doesn’t say sum bs like “I understand u” or whatever

He listens and asks if u want some feedback, if not then he ain’t saying anything

Eventually gives unsolicited feed cuz he always gotta give offhand comments)

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’s proud of you and your guy’s relationship

He won’t exactly show it off per say but he won’t hesitate to be proud of you

He doesn’t rlly show u off but mostly just says stuff like “yea (your name) can do that but like 100x better”

But what he really thought was “(your name) would beat that guy in a sec”

Rlly admires you

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Fighting is kinda sorta and essential to survive as a demigod soooo…

But when it comes to fights he’s obviously protective

Just not too much where it’s annoying

Only if u got hurt or weren’t able to protect yourself

He def fights for you and besides you

If anyone insults him, ok he’s mad

But if anyone insults you, he’s fucking pissed

U better do the same broski)

W = Wash ( What’s it like taking a bath with them, or helping them wash up after a fight?)

Nicos pretty quiet and doesn’t talk after a fight

He’s exhausted and he’s too tired to, he might try to reject your help but with much perseverance you pushed through and finally was able to clean and wash him up

You bandaged him up and fed him some nectar

He was pretty obedient, not putting up a fight for the most part.

Quiet too

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

He can read you pretty well

Atleast what you’re thinking overall

Sometimes he overthinks and begins wondering what if…?

Can understand you a decent amount

X = XO ( How do they show you affection? How much PDA are they willing to show?)

Pretty affectionate when he wants to be

Mostly when he’s sleepy and off guard

He’s warmed up to you so that includes occasional physical touch

Mostly with your hands, now he hardly fidgets with his skull ring, mostly fidgeting with your hands or something on you

These little displays of affection go unnoticed by others but not you

In terms of PDA, he hates it

Please don’t ever kiss him in front of anyone, especially Hazel

He doesn’t mind hand holding, and if you were in a life or death situation PDA is off his mind and he’d rather cry and hug and sob w u then not have you near him just cuz he’s unaffectionate in public.

Y = Yearn (What do they do when they miss you?)

Yes.

When he misses you he becomes grumpy and cranky to everyone

He’d probably lay in your bed for comfort or get one of your hoodies and put it on.

Falls asleep and hopes when he wakes up you’ll be there

Even if you’re not ,he hopes he’ll dream of you

Regrets it cuz then he misses you more even in his dreams)

Z=Zzz ( How do they act when they get sleepy? How is it sleeping in the same bed?)

He’s dizzy and a bit delirious

And you both end up cuddling after laughing and talking about random shit at 2 am

He’s kind of a crazy sleeper and has notoriously bad bed head

Cute, but rlly bad

Same when he’s sleepy

He’s so cute and most times he says what’s on his mind instead of filtering it out.

Makes you pay for it when he’s in a clearer state of mind 😔

———————————————————————————

A/N: added two prompts for a couple of letters just cuz I felt like it and don’t hesitate to let me know if there are any spelling mistakes! :)

[milaisreading]

If are requests are open then... 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

Blue Lock men having an 'unbiased' ranking on which player will be the best to worst bf (based on their opinion which makes it worse lol) for dear y/n :p <33

🌱🩷: Thanks for the request! Hope u like this one

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. In the story the boys will be using he/him when addressing Yn. Requests for this series are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Masterlist to this series

"You?! Don't make me laught, Otoya!" The Blue Lock members looked away from their food or their conversations, and looked at the table Yukimiya, Karasu and Otoya were occupying. On further inspection, they noted the nasty glares Yukimiya and Karasu were sending a smug-looking Otoya.

"This isn't a comedy, Karasu. I am the best fit boyfriend for our dear striker. And (Y/n) would definitely vouch for me."

At the mention of the word boyfriend, attached to (Y/n)'s name, the room fell silent for a moment. Nobody spoke as they looked in disbelief at Otoya, but it quickly got broken by Reo.

"You?! What makes you think (Y/n) would go out with someone like you?! He has standards!" The purple-haired heir yelled in anger as Nagi stared at them in resentment.

"Easy, I am funny, charismatic, can be caring, and (Y/n)'s humor mashes well with mine. We are a match made in heaven-"

"Shut up, Otoya! You two are not! If anything, I am the perfect boyfriend for (Y/n). We are both handsome, could pass as models, and we both share a love for sweets. I even take him out to get mochi when we have a day off-"

"What?! Yukimiya, since when are you so close to the Lukewarm?" It was now Rin's turn to yell as everyone else glare at the model.

"Ever since the 3rd selected. If you weren't such a stuck up narcissist, Rin, you would know how it is like being so close to him." Yukimiya snickered, earning a glare from the captain.

"Well, I believe I am the best one for him. (Y/n) and were in the same team during the 3rd selection and we both worked pretty well together. My more extroverted persona goes well with his calmer, introverted one. I think I am the better match-"

"Hold it, Karasu. You are not fit standing next to (Y/n), let alone be his boyfriend." Hiori interrupted the crow-boy, who sent him a side-glare.

"What did you say?"

"All I am saying is that (Y/n) needs someone who will treat him kindly and gently, which isn't something you would do. But, me? I am a different story-"

"So am I then, Hiori. Besides, (Y/n) and I have known each other ever since the 1st selection started. We even trained together." Hiori turned to glare at Isagi, who was sitting next to a gloomy Bachira.

"And also, we talk about a lot of things. He is very comfortable around me." Isagi smiled at the last part, which irked Barou.

"Hold it, if we are going by that, then I am the perfect boyfriend for (Y/n). After all, we have been partners since the beginning. I know everything there is to know about him. And besides, he likes my cooking more."

"What?! When did he try your food, King?" Chigiri asked, irritated with the satisfied look on Barou's face.

"The last time we had a week off, I invited him for a dinner with my family."

"Cheater! Wait, so you are the reason he couldn't play video games with me?!" Nagi got up from his seat, the sight of the enraged albino was the last thing anyone expected to ever witness.

"Nagi, that is not the point. The point is, I would make a better boyfriend. I am funny, respectful and pretty, anything someone like (Y/n) could want." Chigiri smiled smuggly.

"Hold it there, Chigiri. I might not be the most emotionally open one, but I could treat (Y/n) way better. I am strong and reliable, after all." Kunigami started, earning an eyeroll from Bachira.

"Strength isn't everything." The bicolored boy started.

"After all, I am funny, considered, and affectionate! Perfect for someone like (Y/n)-"

"Bachira, you have no sense of personal space." Kurona spoke up in a monotone voice as he sat next to Niko.

"Excuse me. Did you say something, Kurona?" Bachira asked with a slight edge to his tone.

"I said you don't know personal space. I might not be the most talkative, but (Y/n) is definitely the most comfortable with me. We always eat lunch together and spend times watching YouTube when one of us has a phone." Kurona sighed dreamily, attracting Gagamaru's attention.

"Well... I think he would be a good match with me too. He doesn't mind that I eat with my hands, and we both live eating. He even said we can go to a taste test in Kanagawa." The goalkeeper blushed a little.

"Tsk. Tsk. None of you are stylish enough for someone as elegant and caring as (Y/n). Now, I on the other hand am a perfect match."

"What was that?" Reo warned Aryu, who just flipped his hair and smirked at him.

"I am just saying that (Y/n) and I both enjoy skin care and hair care a lot. He is also very adaptable to any of my conversations."

"(Y-Y/n).... uh...he is very kind and caring..." Tokimitsu started nervously as everyone turned to look at him.

"He always helps me calm down, and even gave me advices during the 2nd and 3rd selection... I think we might be cute, too." Tokimitsu laughed nervously as he played with his hands.

"Quiet! All of you don't deserve that mediocre striker." The team turned to look at an enraged Rin.

"Did you just call (Y/n) mediocre?!"

"Also, who deserves him then, Rinnie?" Isagi and Otoya exclaimed.

"Me, of course. I am the best player around, and someone (Y/n) can always relax with. I am calm and collected, perfect for him."

"That's stupid. If anything, Reo and I are the perfect match for (Y/n). We have known him for waay longer." Nagi said, earning a few glares.

"Aren't you two the ones who ostracized him? We might not agree on who is the best pick for (Y/n), but we all know you two are the last ones on the list." Niko commented, causing the two boys to speak up again.

"We made up!"

"Besides, I think my intelligence is what (Y/n) would want above any of the qualities any of you have." Niko finished.

"Why you-"

Yukimiya git interrupted as Ego's voice boomed through the room.

"Why are you guys still here? Go back to training. (Y/n) and Shidou are waiting for you to form teams."

There was a short silence as everyone registered the last sentence.

"Shidou? (Y/n) and Shidou are together?" Gagamaru asked carefully as the room's temperature dropped.

"Yeah, an hour ago Shidou pulled him away from the cafeteria so that they could practice-"

Before Ego could finish, Rin, Barou, Isagi, and Kunigami already rushed out of the room. The rest followed soon after.

"Shidou, can you get off of me?" (Y/n) groaned as the boy leaned his whole weight on her.

'So heavy...' She thought to herself, jumping as the blonde-pink haired boy moved his face closer to her ear.

"I like it like this more. You are very warm~" Shidou smirked, tightening his Hold around her waist.

"H-hey!" She blushed a bright red from all the attention, and Shidou laughed a little. But before he could speak, the door to the training room got opened.

"Shidou, you piece of shit! Get off of (Y/n)!" Rin yelled, seeing red from how close they were.

"Red card! Red card!" Bachira's yell came next.

(Y/n) sighed in defeat as she heard Shidou chuckle again and pull her closer to him.

"Calm down,  (Y/n) and I are just bonding~"

'Kill me.'

[nightcolorz]

do you have thoughts on how marius would have kept a human amadeo in line for another ten years. I have to imagine it's holding vampirism over his head for longer but rereading the parts of TVA I was looking at today and how tumultuous their relationship already was after two years I'm like damn that bitch had his work cut out for him....

Lmao omg 😭😭 love this question I love the idea of a nearing thirty yr old Amadeo who’s fit and strong and CRAZY driving Marius to insanity (as he should). I mean it definitely wasn’t easy. Marius is very insecure and I picture him being made very anxious over Amadeo becoming stronger and older and feeling helpless to stop this. Marius considers his control over Amadeo essential to their “love” and relationship, and feeling like he’s loosing control when Amadeo becomes a person is terrifying to him. We know from the books that any inclination that Amadeo is growing into an independent person capable of being self sufficient causes Marius to loose his absolute mind.

I feel like Amadeo is so attached to marius tho that he didn’t have to do much more then threaten to leave him + leave him alone for a few days to remind him of how much he needs him (therefore stopping any rebellion in its tracks). Amadeo is a Crazy bitch but the second Marius leaves to visit Akasha for a little bit Amadeo looses his shit and begs him to stay with him. Any threat on Amadeo’s part to run away is all talk and they both know it. Marius has done sm to abuse Amadeo into codependency that I feel like by the time Amadeo is an adult and has been living this life attached to Marius for so long the abuse does the work for him. Like, Amadeo is still going to be a piece of work but there is no real possibility of Marius loosing him, bcus Amadeo can’t live without him.

It’s definitely not all roses, like I imagine by the time Amadeo is a restless adult being treated the same as he was when he was fifteen the beatings r going to increase based on reckless and insane behavior increasing. But Amadeo feels like he can’t live without Marius and would rather die then be left alone, so I think that a reminder of “I could abandon u at a moments notice” would be enough for Amadeo to keep himself in check. (Especially bcus amc Marius makes it clearer then book Marius that Amadeo is property to him and Amadeo is very aware of the fact that he is a thing that can be replaced and therefore needs to make himself useful. Amc Armand is not necessarily privileged enough to rebel to an extreme point 😭).

so my thoughts r, I think that Marius is so insecure that he forgets how much Armand’s history of abuse affects his behavior. So what I think is, even tho Amadeo has very little chance of actually becoming independent from Marius bcus of how unhealthily codependent he is, Marius despite being aware of this fears his independence a ton and gets that out of his system by taking more abusive measures to make sure amadeo’s afraid of rebelling. This is kind of what happens in the book, but I imagine with an extra ten years it becomes more extreme. According to Armand in tva marius only really starts beating him when he hits puberty and starts fighting for his identity and independence, so I think with an adult Amadeo the beatings just get really bad. In the book Marius beats Armand when he displays his identity and independence that’s uncontrollable by him when he’s yearning for his family he lost. Marius is frightened by Armand regaining who he was before him (cuz marius is afraid of loosing control over Armand). So I think in amc iwtv this behavior gets to the point of like, marius starts restricting when Amadeo can leave the palazzo, doesn’t allow him to see Bianca or Riccardo, controlling stuff like that, that r like useless measures attempting to stop Amadeo from growing up and therefore realizing that he doesn’t need Marius.

and u know how in the vampire Armand Marius shaves Amadeo before he turns him so that he’ll be as young looking as possible for eternity? I imagine for amc Armand, Marius is also very frightened of Amadeo growing into an adult and becoming physically a man. So maybe he puts restrictions on his physical appearance, shaves him down like he does in tva, cuts his hair, emotionally abuses him into seeing himself as more of a child then he is, just so that he won’t loose that youth Marius is attracted to. What Marius is really scared of is Armand becoming an adult, bcus Marius is attracted to the child he can control, not an adult. he doesn’t want a man, he wants a boy. And the horrible thing is, the way that Marius treats Armand ends up ultimately stunting his ability to be an adult, and in a way Marius gets his eternal boy forever.

[chaosjustexists]

rant time cus I finally got around to watching avengers endgame and the ending with steve SUCKS

from what I know I think they needed a reason to not have Steve/Captain America v1 show up again cus of contract shit which sure, but there are much better IN CHARACTER ways to do that

first of all: Peggy is great and all but that whole plot line is at most a 'I dated her in highschool' level of relationship. he kissed like 1 time

second: he loves bucky way to much for that. just no. even if u somehow, trhough and enormous amount of homophobia and heteronormativity think that they aren't in love and don't at any point think about marrying eachother when they find out thats legal, their bond is far to strong to be sacrificed by steve for peggy. no.

third: remember all of age of ultron? that part where it's essentially implied that steve can't age? whered that go marvel??

fourth: same movie, different aspect: "God's righteous man. Pretending you could live without a war." -Ultron. He deserves to retire yes but 1) theres no way he actually would (this is the kid from brooklyn who fought when he could barely breathe) 2) he would want to be around just in case (remember half of the reason he took issue with the accords? "What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us?" -Steve) he would stay in his time just in case he's needed 3) he should retire with bucky, the only person whose been there for almost every part of his life, or at least somewhere where bucky is involved

so, my solution?

he comes back, gives the sheild to sam, finds a place to have a home where bucky would also live whenever he wasnt busy with his stuff, and ignores the outside world except for major updates (think he has a single phone with numbers to all the important people but otherwise he can just live his artist life inside his house and get updates from bucky on when he'll be home next)

the closest to in character that I think we would ever see of Steve "fighting bullies since I couldn't breathe right and running into war to save my best friend against orders twice" Rogers retiring and not showing up again

and this is only really an option cus I understand that actors cannot stay with one movie franchise for their whole career and everyone would notice if you switched out chris evans

sorry if there are and spelling errors I needed to get this typed put before I forgot it all lol

[f1shart]

i am Hearing you Out on Tankbalt. me and bro when we're traumatized teens forced to carry the curse of being too much like our parents and not enough at the same time. please go on

EVERYTHING TANKBALT HAS IN COMMON

rambling under the cut. aha

both the oldest brother with two younger siblings and are the strongest out of them (IGNORING TANK'S 0 BODY POINTS) - you could say they take on the protector role

The Anger

both cover their faces

neurodivergent coded. one camouflages and the other masks come the fuck ON

they have one signature color (which are complementary fyi 💚❤️)

both involved in family feuds though the grunt-smith one is much smaller in scale. also they both have a really gay obsession with a boy from their opposing clan

dead moms that are a key factor in their unbridled Rage

on the topic of family, they both also have a male parental figure that has both a heavy overall influence on them and encourages them to partake in the feud (in consort's case you could argue he doesnt actually encourage tybalt to beat the shit out of the monty brothers every day, but he also doesn't effectively stop him or even make an effort to. i say "effectively" as a reference to the scene in r&j where capulet calls him a saucy boy for wanting to deal with romeoSORRY IM SO OBSESSED WITH THAT)

going back to the color thing can i also say how both their colors relate heavily to their family/expectations... tank's green is obviously representative of how buzz expects him to pursue a career in the military and center his whole life around it; meanwhile tybalt's red, often the "Capulet color" in many r&j adaptations, represents his very strong allegiance to his clan and how he's like. the only teen in that town to actually give a fuck about the feud

both are fanonically associated with an animal aka angry pussy and perrito encerrado <3 not to mention that the kitty x puppy type ship dynamic is very popular

both technically come from wealthy families? i'm just being logical here - i KNOW the grunts dont have a super mega amount of cash in their bank like the capps (and those guys are a whole different breed of rich..) but generals make a fuckton of money irl so just imagine the accumulated wealth of wholeass generations of them!! plus, buzz often gets this one chance card that, if you choose correctly, he brings home §50,000. if u get that one make sure to choose to launch a missile at the thingy (asteroid?) btw

what if we dove into fanon real quick..you could sayyy they both have physical signs of their trauma ^_^ for tybalt, it's his burn scars from escaping the fire that killed his parents when he was young and additionally having to save his even younger sisters. for tankernaut there's a couple of things you could argue: 1. his ptosis. i typically depict it as a congenital thing mysef but perhaps it's stress-induced? from my 5-second google search i've concluded that this isn't possible as a permanent affliction but first of all Fuck Realism, secondly it could be a thing that just appears every once in a while when he's reeeally going through it. and 2. his funny bone injury mentioned in gba/ds, presumably obtained on the battlefield. i've also seen tank depicted with more intense scarring (shoutout to my boy mash) but yap yap NEXT POINT?!??

hmmmmm ah. i think my brain juice's all fixzled oit.... hm. both are whi..te...???

both reeeaalllyy gay like fag asf. quite possibly the gayest boys of the sim franchise

TANKBALT GALLERY

[warblogs17282]

Hey a lot of Hellaverse critics on here and Twitter nowadays have been calling Stolas a “coercive rapist,” how do you feel about those claims?

Short Version: Stolas is not a coercive rapist.

Long Version:

Let's start at s1 e5: 'When this happens, it's not really something I fuss about...' and 'Well, I'm not a fan of someone I offered a job to about to off my easiest lengthy ticket to Earth behind my back.'

Notice how Blitz says 'easiest lengthy ticket' here, not 'only ticket', and Blitz knows about Asmodean Crystals, as evidenced by unhappy campers where Blitz forces someone to use it to create a portal to the living world, so the grimoire was never the only option Blitz could've used to run I.M.P.

Sure losing the grimoire would've disrupted business for a bit, but again, it was never Blitz's only option, so the coercion argument already falls flat there, but let's beat it up a bit further shall we?

Now let's look at s1 e7, at the ending of it Stolas never pressures or forces Blitz into having sex with him or quote 'We could talk, or… watch a movie, or… maybe cuddle?', Blitz turns Stolas down here, and Stolas never forces or pressures Blitz into doing said things with him, and you know what this also proves? It proves that Blitz has always had the self-agency to tell Stolas 'no I don't want to fuck you', which also shows that Blitz actually wanted to have sex with Stolas, which we can prove by the text messages Stolas and Blitz had after Ozzie's.

These text messages show that Stolas is actively giving Blitz the option to not fuck him, which also tells us that Blitz always had the option to tell Stolas no, and hell, we can see in the All 2 U song that Blitz turned down Stolas most likely asking Blitz to stay after the sex, proving even further Blitz always had the self-agency to tell Stolas no, which shows that Blitz wanted to have sex with Stolas.

I sure wish there was a funny little song showing Blitz wanting to fuck Stolas out of his entire own free will to just really drive in the point, -oh wait that actually exists.

and now let's look at apology tour again, Blitz wants the arrangement back, to fuck Stolas again.

Which tells us something that the people peddling the bullshit 'Stolas is a rapist' argument entirely ignore, Blitz is the one unhappy with the arrangement ending, not Stolas, Blitz.

Also, Blitz has the crystal by this point, Blitz could've easily have just told Stolas to fuck off and leave if Blitz was truly being coerced and raped by Stolas, but he chooses to stay because at this point he thinks this gesture is a farewell gift from Stolas, and it's been made very clear that Blitz has strong feelings for Stolas by this point despite his self-hatred, that he doesn't want to lose Stolas, which also helps to further prove that Blitz wanted to have sex with Stolas out of his entire free will.

Blitz having sex with Stolas was a way for Blitz to be close to Stolas without having to be vulnerable, and when Stolas gets rid of the arrangement Blitz is scared because it would force Blitz to be vulnerable towards Stolas.

Is all of this really the behavior of a person who felt coerced into sex he didn't want to have? Because I think it's pretty fucking clear that Blitz at no point felt coerced into having sex with Stolas, and the antis/critics that claim otherwise I have good grounds to believe aren't even watching the same show anymore.

Thanks for the ask :)

[beiasluv]

heyyy so i was thinking what would happen if neteyam went to jake for advice on how to ask the reader out, i just thought it'll be a cute moment :) you don't have to write it if u don't want to, completely up to u 💓

have a lovely day gorgeous 🫶

a father’s advice? neteyam x reader

a/n: that’s actually so cute / ye grammar mistake cuz I’m too potato / hope you enjoy, gorgeous gorgeous girl 🤍

masterlist

saying who’s got the most rizz in the family is hard, their blood is strong. but one thing neteyam can’t deny, is that his father is the original rizz

how did he managed to pulled off neytiri? he don’t fucking know. the daughter of the chief while he is a ‘dreamwalker’ to them? he got them rizz

neteyam, being the golden child he is, is determined to follow his father’s footsteps.

and who else could he ask advice from? lo’ak? nope, that boy would never miss a chance to make fun of him, if he would go for his assistant. plus, he got rizzed up by tsireya, he down real bad.

kiri? nah, she has her own world and neteyam respects that. letting her be her free-spirited self would be the best option.

spider 👁️👁️ what does that boy know? does he even have a girlfriend? *ahem* i guess we’ll never know. he got the lowest rizz game in the family, with all due respect from neteyam.

tukkk, SHE IS A MINOR AND A CHILD.

neytiri? i guess? bet she would be more of a pain in the ahh if he would go to her for advice. being a mom she is, she would definitely judge neteyam’s crush and all of his dream would crash down. no, we don’t want that.

jake, it is.

but how? how to make it the least awkward to approach his dad about stuff like this?

he tried to give his dad signals and signs everyday but he doesn’t seem to pick them up. he even started to doubt if his dad is the real player, cuz them boy is clueless😭

“dad?”

“yes?” jake replied with his back facing neteyam.

“how do you er…like send a sign?”

“neteyam, i thought we went over this already,” he sighed. “press your collar when speaking, and say ‘over’ when you are done talking”

“oh!” he scratched his neck. “okay, sorry, dad.”

neteyam was hopeless 😭 but to get a girl, he can’t just give up easily

he tried again, now, with a little help from his sister

“dad,” he walked quietly into the marui where his dad is resting.

“what?” he grumbled.

“erm…last time…when…” his words fumbled around each other, while kiri came into the marui.

“when what? get to the point,” he shifted the blanket off his chest and sat up.

“dad, he is asking you how to ask a girl out,” she said nonchalantly as she looked through the drawer. “you’re welcome, bro,” with a swift of her tail, she was out the door.

“oh, well,” jake chuckled loudly. “have i heard correctly?”

“well, yea..yes.”

“c’mere, son,” he patted the mattress. “let me show you.”

jake would be so proud. he would laugh uncontrollably for like 10 minutes cause neteyam got him worried there.

but his son ask, he will reveal

“now, welcome to “the way of rizz 101” class with jake sully,” he joking said. “there are many ways to ask a girl out, alright, but there is a main pattern you must look out for.”

“number 1: set the mood. it is the most important, alright?” he ruffled neteyam’s locks. “you could never go wrong with setting the mood, look for spots, lighting, and the feels.” “guess where we got down, the tree of souls, yeah, magic, am i righ-“

“ew dad, please.”

“okay, listen to the experts, son,” he laughed. “number 2: make it personal, PER-SO-NAL”

“yes, i understand, I’m not dumb”

“no, son, it’s really important. don’t reuse your letters, never get her the same gift. DO NOT never ever use the same pick up line. AND definitely do not use the same pattern for every girl.” (amen to deja-vu from olivia rodrigo, guys)

“number 3: be yourself,” he patted his son back. “don’t be afraid, if she doesn’t accept your offer, don’t let it consume you.”

“how can i do that?” he retorted.

“what is she like?”

“she is the only girl i have ever laid my eyes on and they were stuck! can’t imagine even just one other girl that i have felt the same feelings i am feeling right now.”

“that’s the spirit, atta boy,” he chuckled. “then, i pray for eywa that this is the way.” “eywa will show you the way if she is the one for you,” he smiled softly.

“and a honorable mention, do not ever make a girl cry over your stupid mistakes, alright?”

“how would i know?”

“you would feel it, respect her, respect her as a goddess, hell yeah, adore her, like eywa,” he added. “she is gentle but deadly, the spirit of life. always ask for consent, always. when you are mated for life, you both become equal.”

“let her guide you, and let you guide her,” he held his palms together as one. “now, how to rizz a girl up is not useful without your effort,” he patted his son’s head and pushed him up.

“go get the girl, atta boy!”

today is a great day to go touch grass 😳 i mean- take care of yourself 🤍

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin