#he's such a loser (affectionate) i can't deal with this

[t-u-i-t-c]

if he says he can do it, he’ll do it

[darlingbabyboo]

I've been thinking for a while about a particular one shot request and I read it last night on another fandom, so now I kinda wanna see it with TR.

So here it is : How would some of the guys react to us doodling on their hand during some boring class? (Mikey, Draken, Takemichi, Mitsuya, Haitani brothers and the Kawata twins)

Sorry if it's too much! It doesn't have to be anything big, just a small reaction would be more than perfect, since I love your writing so much. 🥹

Baby, What Are You Doing...

Summary: the guys react to you doodling on their arms

Notes: some small blurbs about the guys. These vary in length and I was lowkey running out of ideas while I was writing but I tried my best to stay original! Also, not edited bcs I don't got time for that, you see a mistake, no you didn't <333

Mikey is kinda out there so he probably wouldn't even notice you were writing on his hand, but when he does he eats that shit up. He's lazy so he doesn't like going to get tats but he loves some ink. He will praise you and start requesting things like you're a professional artist. 'Please babe, I want a dorayaki on my forearm.' You bite your lip to hide your blossoming smile, 'you know I'm not a professional artist, right?' Your boyfriend shrugs and smacks a kiss to your cheek, 'you are to me babe!'

Draken notices right away what you're doing and is probably a bit confused at first. Like, do you want him to get another tattoo??? He'll do it hun, just ask. You two are relaxing in his bed, just enjoying each other's presence. He's surprised when you pull out a Sharpie and start doodling your name on his arm. 'Honey, what're you doing?' You give a sheepish grin, 'sorry, is it a problem.' He looks at the doodle, and you start to relax when you spot no disgust in his eyes. 'No problem hun,' he turns to you, 'think I should get this my next visit?' You squeal and wrap your arms around his neck as he looks at the doodle in wonder, more love sprouting in his heart.

Takemichi is a loser (affectionate) and he would never get a tattoo because he can't stand that pain, so he will take take that doodle and he will hold it with pride. 'Sweetie, I love it so much!' He wraps his arms around your waist and you can feel his smile against your stomach. You giggle at his wonder at some shitty stick figures along his arms. 'It's really no big deal' You say, running your hands through his hair, 'you don't need to be so happy.' He shakes his head, 'it is a big deal,' He insists, 'I've never seen anything better!'

Mitsuya my love, my heart, my will to live. He will be gassing up so much that you'll probably start believing that you're the best artist in the world. He's just such a supportive cutie pie <3 'Darling, this is one of the greatest things I've ever seen,' You laugh at the amazement in his eyes as you scribble your name in mock script on his arms. It's barley legible, but Takashi doesn't seem to care, 'you sure about that?' The smile doesn't drop from his face as he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, 'I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.'

I'm sorry but Smiley is probably the biggest asshole when he catches you doing this. He loves it, I promise, but he's a jerk 100% of the time, it's hard for him to turn it off. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you uncap your sharpie and start to draw something on his hand. 'What the fuck is that supposed to be?' He mutters. You laugh awkwardly at his harsh tone and drop your Sharpie, 'sorry, I just saw some cute videos about people putting their initials on their boyfriends wrists and I thought-it's stupid sorry-I don't know why I did that.' You duck your head down, burying your face into his chest, feeling that your body's on fire. Smiley looks at the half-finished doodle on his wrist. 'Don't stop baby, shit's pretty cute.' He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, 'I might get it tatted up.'

Angry is so flustered when he sees you doing this and he loves it so much okay. He feels like wearing it is a testament of how strong your love is. He will ask you (nervously) to do it every day because he doesn't want it to fade. 'Oh my gosh! Souya, you scared me, what're you doing there?' He stands awkwardly in the corner of your room, playing with the ends of his sleeves. 'Sorry... I didn't want to scare you... I just...' He pulls up his sleeve and he sees the fading bunny on his arm. 'I don't wanna bother you, I just-' 'Don't worry baby, I get it.' You cut him off, cupping his cheek and placing a kiss on his cheek. You pull him towards the bed and tell him to wait, 'I just need to get my Sharpies!'

Ran won't notice I'm sorry. He sleeps most of the day and he already has so much ink that some doodles won't pop out to him too much. It's only until he notices you doodling on a piece of paper one day and compares it to what's all over his arms that he starts tweakin'. 'Angel have you been inkin' me up?' He raises an eyebrow at you, confused. You hide your smile, 'of course not, I have no idea what you're talking about.' He narrows his eyes, '...okay.' Not completely believing you, but too sleepy to question things. 'Wanna take a nap?' You feel the Sharpie in your pocket and bite the inside of your cheeks, 'I'd love to!'

Rindou will eat that shit up, oh my gosh he loves it so much. He's like the extreme version of Angry and Mikey. He wants it obvious, and he wants it bold. 'C'mon princess, your name on my collarbone, I need it.' You raise an eyebrow as you straddle him, 'in red though, that's a bit... much.' He shakes his head, 'no, no, it'll be perfect.' You shake your head in exasperation, your boyfriend is a big dummy, but he loves you with every part of himself.

[emmyrosee]

Domestic life w Suna is living in my head rent-free 40 hours a day

Bro it’s all I ever think about.

I feel like he’s just such a domestic loser, he craves and loves the simplicity of life loving you, it’s easy and it’s warm and it’s stable.

Like I just so enjoy imagining mornings. Mornings just being in love with him. He probably gets up a bit earlier than you on weekends to make you some breakfast, letting you sleep in a little bit more. Sometimes, you come into the kitchen, watching as his lean, shirtless body scuttles around the kitchen making whatever he can whip up.

Other times, you’re not awake, and it’s his time to shine.

“Baaaaaabe,” he whispers, voice pitched purposely loud, and it from under the sheets, it makes you grunt and burrow deeper. “Breakfast is ready, and I’m not waiting for you.”

“Go away,” you grumble. You’re too tired to deal with him, and rintaro knows this, but you’re not allowed to have a moment of peace when dating him.

Because he hates you.

“But baaaaabe,” he hisses again, before sprawling on top of you and squishing you to the bed. You whine as the compression forces giggles out, and your face buries deeper into the pillow to try and hide your smile. “I worked soooooo hard on it… and it’s gonna get coooooold.” As if on cue, cold hands slip under your shirt and have you yelping in surprise, “and I’m so hungryyyyy.”

“So eat,” you say, trying to hide your smile as best as you can. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“E-fucking-scuse you,” he snips playfully. "I know I said that, but how dare you reiterate it?"

"Rintaro, I can't breathe."

"You're talking, you're fine." He nips your ear and smirks at the little squeak you let out. "Do you like Pringles?"

"What?"

"I think later I’m gonna get Pringles."

You laugh into the pillow, and he bites his lip to try and hide his own laughter, "Rin, what the fuck?"

He worms his face between your hiked shoulder and neck, getting as close to your face as he can. "I'm gonna pick your nose if you don't get up."

You laugh again, but your struggling under him gets stronger, "leave me alone!"

"Am I gonna stick my pinky up your nose, or are we gonna go eat the breakfast I slaved over?" He starts laughing when you whip your head to the side to try and get away. "Your decision."

"Fine!" You giggle, turning your head to look at him. As innocent as ever, he plants an affectionate kiss to your nose before pushing off of you and letting you sit up just after. "I'm leaving you."

"Like hell you are," he snorts, leaning over to give you a proper kiss, which you return happily.

[jetii]

Hello! I was wondering if I could 36 NSFW with Tech x fem!reader? Maybe where he said that nobody really gave him a challenge at the game, and readers ego is too high to back down from that offer even though she loses horribly. Established relationship perhaps? Also, I love your writing it’s amazing! You deserve all the love and followers

Hiii I'm so happy you requested this!!! I've been addicted to playing Kessel Sabacc in SW Outlaws for the past few weeks, and I was just waiting for the opportunity to work my knowledge into a fic. Literally wrote this as soon as I saw it in my inbox.

I consider this reader the same as the one from On Impulse if anyone cares!

Strategy

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 5,069

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, established relationship, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, light dom Tech, rough (but affectionate) sex

Prompt: 36. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc.”

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"Pure sabacc," you announce, throwing down your cards and leaning back in your chair. A relieved grin spreads across your face at Tech's expression. His mouth is a thin line and his eyes are squinted, but there's an exasperated glint in them.

"Yes, I know," he grumbles, dropping his own cards on the table. Tech isn't a sore loser, but he is a competitive one. And the fact that this is the second hand you've won in a row is definitely irking him.

You snatch up his discarded cards and start to shuffle. "What was that about me never winning a round?"

"It is an anomaly," Tech states emotionlessly.

"And you've done the calculations to prove it, haven't you?"

He doesn't answer.

"Well, maybe I'm just lucky tonight." You cross your arms, reveling in his annoyance. "You know, I was beginning to think you were cheating with all the times you've been winning."

Tech rolls his eyes, but you can tell he's fighting off a smirk.

"I wouldn't cheat. Besides, I don't need to. My superior memory allows me to calculate the chances of each outcome with ease, making me naturally skilled at the game. Whereas you," he continues, leaning across the table and resting his elbows on it, "must rely on luck, because your memory is abysmal. It's no surprise you've been losing so often."

"Hey!" you protest, tossing a card at him. It flutters through the air, but he catches it before it hits his goggles.

Tech leans forward, the card trapped between his index and middle finger. "I am merely pointing out the facts, darling."

You snatch the card from him and return it to the deck, refusing to meet his smug gaze. He's trying to distract you, and he knows it's working.

"You can't always rely on the facts," you say, dealing the cards out once again.

"I don't. I also use strategy. Which you should try, seeing as it would certainly help you win."

"Strategy?"

"Yes, like—"

"Like how you're trying to distract me by insulting my memory?"

Tech huffs a breathy laugh and tilts his chin down. "Is it working?"

"Absolutely not." You glance down at your cards, trying your best not to smirk at your hand. Another sylop. The deck is stacked in your favor this round, and you have a perfect chance of beating Tech.

"What do you say we make this more interesting?" you propose, watching Tech's head tilt in curiosity.

He places a chip down and draws a card before his eyes dart back to yours. "I'm listening."

"Strip sabacc."

Tech's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he almost drops the cards he's holding. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me," you tease, setting your cards down. "Whoever loses a round has to remove an item of clothing. If you lose all your clothes before I do, I win. If I lose mine first, you win. Deal?"

He takes a moment to contemplate the suggestion, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, and his eyes narrow, calculating the possibilities. When his lips curve into a smirk, you know he's made up his mind.

"Deal," he agrees, nodding once and adjusting his goggles. He lays down his cards face up—pair of ones. You frown at your own hand and drop them onto the table.

"Oh, come on! Again?"

Tech chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "I believe you're the one who suggested this game. Now, please, take off an item of clothing."

The cockiness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Tech may be a terrible flirt, but his confidence in himself is incredibly sexy.

You slip your boots off and kick them under the table, then lean back in your chair and cross your arms. Tech's eyes are locked on you, a devious smile playing at his lips.

"Now who's distracted?" you taunt, winking at him.

"Hardly," he answers. But you can see the flush on his face and the way his chest is rising and falling just a little bit faster than usual. He's excited, and he's trying to hide it.

“You know, you’re wearing a lot more clothes than I am," you argue, leaning forward on the table and batting your eyelashes innocently. “You should take off an item, too, for fairness' sake."

"Fine." He pulls his boots off and drops them onto the floor. "Happy now?"

"Very."

Tech picks up the deck and shuffles the cards, the corners of his lips turning up.

"This was your plan, wasn't it?" he asks.

"My plan was to finally win a game of sabacc against you. And maybe see you with less clothes on, but that's an added bonus."

Tech chuckles and slides the cards toward you, his eyes burning into yours. "You are very devious. Now, deal the cards, darling."

You quickly learn that the stakes have made the game a lot more fun. Your heart races as the tension between the two of you rises, each of you sneaking glances at the other while pretending not to. And it doesn't take long for Tech to get the upper hand, much to your dismay.

"I told you," he teases, smirking at you over his cards, "my superior memory allows me to calculate the probability—"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't need to brag," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. You draw another card, cursing when it doesn't help you in the slightest.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc," he says. You look up at Tech to see he's staring at his own cards, but the slight smile playing on his lips tells you he's aware of your annoyance.

You can't argue with that. You're the one that proposed the idea, and you're the one that can’t seem to stop losing, so now you're the one sitting on the ship with no shoes, socks, or a shirt, leaving only your pants and undergarments. Meanwhile, Tech has only removed his gloves and belt.

He places his cards face-up on the table, revealing another pure sabacc.

"Dammit," you sigh, throwing your own cards onto the table. "Again."

"Strip," Tech commands, and there's a huskiness to his voice that wasn't there before. His eyes are dark and intense as they follow your every move, and his mouth is curved in a devilish smile.

"Are you enjoying this?" you ask, unbuttoning your pants and standing from the chair.

"Immensely," he admits, his eyes not straying from you.

Heat spreads throughout your body at the intensity of his gaze. He watches with bated breath as you push the fabric down your legs, revealing the soft skin of your thighs, and he licks his lips subconsciously. The pants pool around your feet, and you kick them under the table before returning to your seat.

"Now who's the distracted one?"

"Not distracted," Tech replies, his eyes meeting yours. "Appreciating."

His words are heavy and sultry, and you can't stop the flush that colors your cheeks.

"You can appreciate me better if you lose another round," you tell him, shuffling the cards once again.

Tech's eyes narrow. "I think I'd prefer to watch you lose a few more."

The cockiness in his voice goes straight to your core, and a heat pools in your abdomen. Tech doesn't break eye contact, his stare intense and challenging, and a thrill shoots through you at the thought of what he could be thinking.

"I guess we'll see," you tell him, smirking.

You deal the cards, and Tech immediately throws a chip down, drawing his next card. A satisfied smile curves his lips. He's not even trying to hide his glee at your frustration, and it's infuriating.

You throw a chip onto your pile, drawing a card and praying that the Force will be on your side this round. You peek at the numbers and symbols on the card, and the disappointment is instant. It's the worst possible combination—a six and one. And you're out of chips.

When Tech sets his cards down, he does so slowly, drawing out the moment and relishing in your scowl.

You sigh, dropping your useless cards, and Tech's eyes brighten at the sight.

"Well, would you look at that?" he says, his voice filled with fake innocence. "I believe that's five in a row for me."

"No shit, really?" you mutter, rolling your eyes. "I had no idea."

He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, his hands folded together and his chin resting on top. "Strip."

It's the way he says it, like a command. His voice is low and gravelly, and you feel yourself getting wetter at the tone. He's so sure of himself, so cocky, and it's driving you wild.

"Do I have to?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

Tech's eyes narrow in on you. "Yes."

You stand and unclasp your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and slipping it off your arms. The cold air makes your nipples harden instantly, and his eyes widen when he sees them. He stares for a moment, taking in the view, and then his tongue darts out and licks his lips.

"I must admit, I'm finding this game more enjoyable than I originally thought," he says, his voice thick.

"Only because you're winning."

He hums in agreement and deals the next hand, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Throughout the round, Tech's eyes keep flicking back and forth between the cards and your chest, and you have to bite back a smile. He's trying so hard to concentrate, and his obvious struggle is adorable.

Tech's confidence fades as the round progresses, and by the time he sets his cards down, he isn't wearing his usual cocky smile. His mouth is pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows are knitted together when he shows you his hand.

"What's wrong, Tech?" you tease, leaning back in your seat. "Disappointed that you lost?"

"Of course not," he scoffs. "I've already calculated the possibilities and I know how this will end. I have no doubt that I will win."

"Then why are you pouting?"

"I am not pouting."

"Uh-huh. Well, whatever the reason, it's time for you to remove some clothes."

Tech sighs and slips off his goggles. His warm eyes meet yours, and you notice that they're slightly glazed over.

"There," he grumbles, pushing the goggles across the table toward you. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," you reply, a wide smile on your face.

Your eyes rake over him, taking in his appearance. It’s rare that you get to see him this way, and you savor the moment. Tech has always been handsome, but the way he looks right now, with his hair mussed and a blush coloring his cheeks, is absolutely enticing.

You pick up the deck and shuffle it, and the sound of the cards sliding together is the only noise in the room. Tech's eyes are fixed on your bare chest, and his throat bobs when he swallows.

"Like what you see?" you ask, raising a brow.

"Always."

Your cheeks flush, and you deal the cards. The anticipation is killing you, and the smugness that Tech was showing before is long gone. He seems eager to get the game over with, and the impatience in his demeanor is refreshing.

His eyes flick back and forth between the cards and the pile, and his face gives nothing away. You're desperate to know what his hand is, and it's taking every ounce of willpower not to peek.

He reaches across the table and throws a chip down, his brow furrowing. It's such a subtle change in his expression, and most people would miss it. But you know Tech well enough to understand his emotions, and right now he's frustrated.

Your heartbeat quickens as you draw a card. Another three to match the one already in your hand. Not great, but it's enough to win if Tech doesn't have a better sabacc.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him, watching as his eyes move from his cards to yours and back again.

"Strategy," he mutters.

"What kind of strategy?"

"The type of strategy that will guarantee my victory,” he says. His eyes are determined and his jaw is clenched. He glances up from his cards to meet your gaze, and the fire in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

"Show me your cards," he demands.

You do as he asks, laying the two twos face-up on the table. The look he gives you is nothing short of prideful, and your heart drops.

"You've got to be kidding me," you groan.

Tech reveals his own cards—a sylop and a one. You let out an exasperated huff, and he chuckles.

"Well," he starts, placing his cards on the table and leaning back in his chair. His gaze travels over your body, and his smirk widens. "Go on."

Your cheeks heat up under his scrutinizing stare, and a part of you wants to rebel and refuse to comply. But Tech looks so damn good right now, his eyes filled with mischief, and the excitement coursing through you is too much.

"You're having too much fun," you say, your voice low.

"I'd have more fun if you'd hurry up and finish this little game of ours," Tech retorts.

 You're about to give him a smart retort, but then you notice the way he shifts in his seat. It's subtle, and you doubt he even realizes it, but it's there. The tightening of his thighs, the slight twitch of his hands. He's just as turned on as you are.

And you decide to play into it.

"I'm in no rush." You stand, slowly, and let your hands travel down the expanse of your chest, cupping your breasts and running your thumbs over your nipples.

Tech's breath catches, and his eyes are dark as they watch your every move. You can see his fingers twitching, aching to touch you, but he's refraining. You run a hand down your stomach, over the hem of your panties, and he licks his lips again.

Then, without warning, you turn away from him, exposing your backside. Tech makes a sound of protest, but his objection quickly dies down when he sees you hook your thumbs into the waistband and slide your underwear down. You bend forward to push them down your legs, and you can hear the sharp intake of breath from Tech.

The moment you turn around, a mischievous glint in your eye, you're met with a new expression on Tech's face.

He looks hungry.

His pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, and you can tell it's taking all his strength not to jump across the table and take you right then and there.

"Well?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. "What are you waiting for?"

He doesn't waste a second. With one swift motion, he tosses the cards aside, his eyes never leaving yours, and stands. Then, he's on the other side of the table and grabbing your waist, pulling you towards him until your chest is pressed against his.

"I win," he announces, his hands roaming over your body.

"Then take your prize."

He pulls you into a searing kiss, his lips pressing insistently against yours. His hands travel the expanse of your skin, squeezing and caressing. One settles at the base of your neck while the other moves lower, down the curve of your back and to your ass. He grabs it, hard, and pulls your hips towards his, pressing his already-hard erection into you. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it up, his tongue delving deeper and dancing with yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and pressing your bare chest against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and his arousal is evident as he rocks his hips into yours, his hand squeezing and kneading your flesh.

When the two of you break away for air, his mouth moves lower, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking the sensitive skin at your pulse point. You tilt your head back, allowing him more access, and he takes full advantage. His tongue laves over the area, teeth nipping at the skin, and a breathy moan escapes your lips.

Tech's lips travel lower, across your collarbone and down your chest, stopping at the valley between your breasts. His breath fans over your skin, and his tongue darts out, licking a stripe along the underside of one breast. His fingers move up, brushing over the bud of your nipple, and you let out a whimper at the sensation.

He looks up at you, a satisfied smile playing at his lips, before bending and taking the other nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, his lips sucking the sensitive flesh, and his hand pinches the other one. The feeling sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and your hands find their way into his hair, tangling themselves in the strands.

You gasp as his teeth gently graze over the hardened peak, and your knees nearly buckle beneath you. His other hand comes up and holds your hip, steadying you, and his mouth moves to the other side.

"Tech..." you breathe, your head falling back and your eyes fluttering shut. He's barely touched you, and already, you're a panting mess.

Tech's lips travel further down, past your navel and to your thighs. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands trailing along the curves of your hips, and his lips press kisses into your skin.

"I've been wanting to taste you all day," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"You should've told me earlier," you breathe, looking down at him through hooded eyes. "We could've skipped the sabacc." 

"This was far more entertaining." He presses a kiss to your mound, and you shudder. His eyes are dark with lust, and the sight of him on his knees before you makes your core clench with anticipation.

Tech kisses your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste the skin. Your hands tighten in his hair, tugging and guiding him to where you need him most. He chuckles, and the warm breath fans over your sensitive flesh. 

His fingers dance across your skin, teasing the crease of your thighs, before one presses against your heat. A moan escapes your lips, and he presses harder, dragging his finger through your folds.

"You're already so wet," he murmurs, his eyes watching the way his finger moves. "Were you thinking about this while we were playing? About what would happen if you lost?"

"Yes," you answer truthfully, and the admission has him groaning.

He rubs circles into your clit, his touch sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your legs begin to shake, and you place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He glances up at you, the corner of his mouth turning up in a devilish smirk, and he presses a finger against your entrance. You whimper at the contact, and Tech lets out a quiet moan, the sight of you falling apart before him clearly affecting him.

"Tech, please," you beg, rocking your hips into his hand.

"Patience, darling," he coos.

He pushes the digit into you, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch, and then curls it upwards. You gasp, your hand gripping his shoulder tighter, and he begins to pump his finger in and out of you. His arm nudges your thigh, spreading your legs wider, and he leans in and presses his mouth to your clit. He licks a broad stripe up the sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling around it, and you cry out in pleasure.

His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady, while the other continues its slow movements, pushing in and out of you. You feel the tension coiling inside of you, and you know it won't take long for him to push you over the edge. His tongue is skilled and insistent, and he knows you better than anyone.

Tech's eyes are locked on yours, watching every reaction, and you can see the pure delight written on his face. He loves knowing he's the one doing this to you, making you fall apart.

"Tech... I'm..." You can't finish the sentence. The tension is building inside you, threatening to snap at any moment, and your breathing is labored. Tech adds a second finger, pumping faster and curling them against the spongy spot within you. You whimper, your grip on his shoulder tightening, and he knows you're close.

"Come for me," he says, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His palm slaps against your clit, his fingers curling deeper, and the coil inside you snaps.

"Fuck!" you gasp, your legs shaking as the orgasm crashes through you. Tech's arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you upright as your knees buckle. He continues pumping his fingers, drawing out the pleasure, his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit.

When the sensations become too much, you place a hand on his forehead and push him away, your body going slack. Tech pulls his fingers from you and places a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before standing, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Mhmm," you hum, a blissful smile tugging at your lips.

Tech's hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. He takes a step forward, guiding you backwards, and the backs of your legs hit the bunk.

"Tech, please," you beg, breaking the kiss and staring into his eyes. They're black with desire, and he's already reaching down, fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

He pushes them down his legs, kicking them away, and his cock springs free, already leaking. Your hand reaches for him, stroking him from base to tip, and he groans, his hips bucking into your touch.

You continue the slow movements, dragging your hand along his length and rubbing your thumb over the tip. Tech's breathing is heavy, and his head falls to your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Stop," he mutters, grabbing your wrist and halting the movement. "I want to last more than five seconds."

You chuckle and press a kiss to his jaw. "Well, let's go, then."

His eyes meet yours, and he nods. Then, in a swift motion, he spins you around and pushes you forward, bending you over the side of the bed.

He presses his body against yours, his cock grinding against your ass, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He's close, his breathing hot and heavy against your neck, and his hands are gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.

You feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance, and a shiver runs down your spine. You lean forward, resting your arms on the mattress and tilting your ass higher, and Tech lets out a deep moan at the sight.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers as one hand slides along the curve of your back.

“Hurry up," you urge, wiggling your hips against him.

His hand moves down your hip, across your ass, taking a moment to squeeze the flesh, and lower to the back of your thigh. His fingers dance along the skin, sending shivers down your spine, before coming to a stop at the back of your knee. He lifts it, propping it on the edge of the bunk, spreading your legs wider, and then his cock is lining up with your entrance.

He pushes in, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch. You whimper as he fills you, and his hand comes up, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back.

Tech pauses when he's fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush with yours, and his hand comes around to rest on your lower stomach. The light pressure on the spot is just enough to have you squirming, and you push back into him, silently begging for more.

"Please, Tech," you whimper, and he huffs a laugh.

"Begging already?" he teases, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. "I haven't even started yet."

He pulls out of you, and the drag of his cock has you whining, already missing the sensation. He pushes back in, slow and deep, and you let out a shaky breath.

"Fuck, Tech," you pant, and he groans, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck.

His pace is slow and methodical, and you can't help but admire the restraint he's showing. Usually, he's a mess by this point, but now, his fingers are digging into your hips, holding you steady, and his breathing is slow and controlled.

You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the sheets, and glance up at him. His eyes are shut tight, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but he seems determined not to lose control.

"Harder, Tech," you urge, pushing your hips back to meet his. He grunts and snaps his hips, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. You let out a moan, and Tech's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more forceful.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, trying to find purchase as he pounds into you. It's intoxicating, the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. And the sounds coming from his lips—the soft grunts and moans—are driving you wild. He's always quiet during sex, but the sounds he's making now are anything but.

Tech's grip on your hip tightens, and his hand on your stomach presses harder, holding you in place as his hips move faster. His thrusts are sharp and deep, and he hits that sweet spot inside you, sending tingling waves of pleasure through your body.

"Yes," you cry out, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust. "More, Tech."

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, his voice strained.

"You won't."

He lets out a strangled moan and slams his hips into yours, the movement nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. He continues his relentless pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip, and your head falls forward, resting against the sheets.

Your legs are shaking, and the tension inside you is threatening to snap at any moment. You can feel the fire burning in your abdomen, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, and the way Tech is panting against your neck isn't helping.

"That's it," he growls, his voice low and husky. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"I can feel you tightening around me." He groans, his pace never faltering. "You're going to come for me."

It's a demand, not a question. And you have no intention of disobeying him.

Tech's hand slides from your hip to your ass, squeezing the plump flesh. The possessiveness of the gesture has you keening, and you arch your back, presenting yourself to him. He growls at the sight, his hips slamming into yours.

"Stars, you're so fucking beautiful," he pants, his hand moving to your thigh and hiking your leg higher. The new angle allows him to slide deeper inside you, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the tears beginning to prick at your eyes.

"Tech, please," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his.

"What do you need, darling?" he asks, his voice strained. "Tell me."

"Make me come, please," you whine, and his hips jerk forward.

His hand is quick, sliding between your legs and finding your clit. He presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow circles, and the tension snaps. Your body goes rigid, and your vision blurs as the orgasm rips through you. You cry out, Tech's name falling from your lips, and your knees buckle, the only thing keeping you upright is his firm grip on your hips.

You bury your face in the sheets, muffling the sound of your moans, and Tech keeps pumping into you, his thrusts rocking you forward and sending your orgasm even higher.

He fucks you through the high, his pace never faltering, each thrust punching another gasp from you. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white and jaw clenched, and the pleasure is so intense that tears begin to roll down your cheeks. His cock twitches inside you, and you clench around him, desperate to push him over the edge.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppy. He's babbling now, his voice hoarse and broken, and you can tell he's close. "You're perfect, darling. You're— fuck, I love you, I love you, I love—"

His words are cut off by a deep groan, and his hips stutter. He slams into you one final time before he spills into you, hot and thick, and the feeling is enough to make you see stars. His hands are gripping your waist, bruising the flesh, and he pulls you into his lap as he turns and collapses onto the bed.

You both sit there, panting, his chest pressed against your back. His forehead is resting against your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. The two of you are covered in a sheen of sweat, and his hands are roaming your body, tracing gentle patterns across your skin.

"That was..." Tech trails off, unable to form the words.

"Yeah," you agree, leaning back against him. You take in a shaky breath and sigh. "I love you too, by the way."

"I know." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin. "I can't believe you suggested strip sabacc."

"And I can't believe you agreed."

"Well, I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see you naked," he chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles across your abdomen.

You laugh, and the sound is bright and clear. You shift in his lap, turning around and straddling his hips. His eyes are soft as he stares up at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe we should play it more often then," you joke, leaning down and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

"We will, if this is how you plan to reward me every time I win."

"Deal."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#690 Same Boat Gang

This is a song I feel resonates with...Ruggie stans, Jamil Stans

Yuu*After seeing his sad past that turned them into the...piece of work, he turned out to be and sighs*...

So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall Can't face the world proudly and dopeless~

You've lost your way, ya think your life is wrecked Well, let me just say you're correct~

Ruggie/Jamil*Is sitting down, feeling the worst then eyes widen confused at you* Wait, what?

Yuu*Smirking at him taking dancing steps back with a beat In your step,making a "L" with your finger on your forehead* You're a loser, baby A loser, goddamn, baby You're a fucked up little whiny bitch~

Ruggie/Jamil*Offended seeing you dance around him mocking him* Hey!

Yuu: You're a loser, just like me~

Ruggie/Jamil: Thanks, asshole

Yuu: You're a screws loose Loser An only one-star reviews-er You're a power-bottom at rock bottom But you got company~

Ruggie/Jamil: This supposed to make me feel better?!

Yuu*Looking at your own reflection and thinking about your past while also the BS you have to deal with Crowley* There was a time I thought no one could relate To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight! We're all livin' in the same shit-sandwich

Ruggie/Jamil*Looking at his own hands at all the damage and hurt he caused others from his less-than-ethical deeds and now people close to him*... I sold my soul to a Depressed Freak/Dumbass Freaks-

Yuu*Snickers at that and raises a brow at him, Holding a hand out for him to take* Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!~ We're both losers, baby We're losers, it's okay to be a~

Ruggie/Jamil: Greedy, Puppeter Thief?/Pridefull, Brainwashing Liar?

Yuu*Getting close to him with a smile* Baby, that's fine by me~

Ruggie/Jamil*Smiles and starts to get into the groove and proudly singing* I'm a loser, honey~ A schmoozer and a dummy But at least I know I'm not alone~

Both of you in harmony: You're a loser, Just like me~

Ruggie/Jamil*Leans on your back and looking at your affectionately* You're a loser, baby~

Yuu: A loser, but just maybe if we~

Both of you: Eat shit together, things will end up differently

Yuu*Both of you start to dance in each other's arms as you sing to him your feelings* It's time to lose your self-loathin' Excuse yourself, let hope in, baby Play your card, be who you are~

Both of you holding each others hands as you gaze into each other's eyes: A loser, just like me

When you are both dependent on this rich guy who practically owns your entire life by now and a whole ass income...Same boat Gang~

[lanitaminaj]

sad girl

mikasa’s in love, eren’s in lust.

angst, detailed sex scene, vulgar language, lowkey sad i was in my bag when i wrote this tbh

in those fleeting moments of bliss, mikasa felt at paradise.

underneath her bare, seashell-pale back, the soft, cotton-textured bedsheets rubbed against her skin. between her spread thighs was eren, his veiny, vanilla-tinted hands held mikasa's thinner fingers in place near her head as he fucked his rose-pink cock repeatedly in her stretched pussy.

"fuck," he'd huff, his raven-black locks curtaining his chiseled, shiny face. "taking my cock so good, aren't you?"

caught in the midst of only being able to sing out erotic moans and euphoric whines, mikasa could only respond to eren's rhetorical question with a pathetic "mhm."

"yeah, princess," eren confidently boasted through labored breaths. "my cock fucking you dumb, isn't it?"

another little "mhm" slipped through the pretty lady's plump, bubblegum-blushed lips. eren, chuckling a bit at her dazed-out state, released her right-hand's wrist from his grip as his left hand squeezed on her heavy, doughy tits.

"my dumb little slut," he'd murmur, his voice caught in his throat as he felt her pussy clench tighter on his dick. "fuck, you're so fucking tight," he'd praise, his thrusts increasing as mikasa's tits bounced quicker. "take my fucking dick."

they'd danced like that for a while; eren's cock coaxed mikasa's pussy to create vulgar tunes of wetness and pleasure, the lady's mouth parting as melodic cries escaped her throat as she reached her high.

eren reached his own high shortly after, his thick cock slipping out from between her thighs as the warmth of his seed settled on her belly.

breathless, mikasa found her eyes falling shut as her lips maintained their slight "o" opened-shape. as she inhaled, her bare breasts ricocheted against her chest.

eren wordlessly made his way to the bathroom, in turn leaving a breathless mikasa on his cotton-sheeted full-sized bed.

that's how it always went with them. eren would tempt mikasa into spreading her legs for him, and the young woman would always stupidly oblige. despite his dismissive nature towards her, mikasa could never find herself saying no to eren's demands.

she supposes that this is how it'll always be between them.

-

once she'd began dating jean kirstein, mikasa swore that's when hell froze over.

mikasa didn't understand why this union had been such a big deal. eren and historia eventually began their fling two months before mikasa had told eren her news. although eren still fucked mikasa throughout the duration of his relationship with historia, it should've been a no brainer that if he got to move on, then so should mikasa.

clearly, eren did not agree with that mindset.

sitting cross-legged on eren's familiar soft sheets, mikasa's hands were placed in her lap as her bowed head was curtained by her raven-black tresses.

"jesus fucking christ, mikasa," eren began, his long legs pacing back and forth on his mahogany-wood floor. his veiny hands smothered his face, his long, chestnut-brown hair messily crowned his face. "kirstein? out of all fucking men you picked kirstein?"

"what's wrong with jean?" mikasa sweetly asked, her doll-like grey eyes looking up to question eren's tight, furious sapphire pair.

"he's a fuckin' loser, that's why. you're a fuckin' loser too."

"me?" the young woman questioned, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she watched eren's form crouch to meet her at eye-level. "but what did i do?"

his lengthy fingers clasped her chin, tilting it down so her eyes can't avoid his.

"mika," he affectionately called her, his voice still maintaining that icy tone. "i know you don't have the best taste in men, and i mean it shows. i mean, you're fucking kirstein."

"i'm not-" mikasa began, her gunmetal-grey eyes noticing how eren's cerulean-blue eyes widened in curiosity.

"-not fucking him yet?" he finished, observing how mikasa's plump, bubblegum-pink lips darted up to be caught between her vanilla-white teeth. even with her chin in his hold, the young woman managed to shake her head a bit.

suddenly, it was as if eren had done a complete 180°. the right corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, his eyes staring at her as if she was prey.

"yeah?" he questioned, the grip on her face releasing as he slowly sprung up to his full, standing form. "he hadn't fucked you yet, babydoll?"

another little head-shake, her eyes darting down to her luxuriant, cream-toned thighs in embarrassment. "no," her honey voice confessed. "eren, i don't wanna talk-"

"-why haven't you given it up yet, hm?" eren interjected.

"i don't know," mikasa shrugged.

"you scared?" eren asked, his voice uncharacteristically softening.

silence. mikasa's eyes would dart up to meet eren's, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip.

"hey," eren spoke. "i asked you a question."

"i'm not scared," the young woman answered. "you're just the only person i... you know."

she felt a warm hand on her cheek, but then suddenly a shriek escaped her lips as she unexpectedly felt her back meet the cotton sheets of eren's bed. swiftly, eren got on top of her, sandwiching mikasa between him and his bed.

"yeah?" eren cockily said from above her. "i'm the only person who fucked you, hm?"

mikasa nodded. her eyes darted away from him until she felt eren's hand on her cheek again, the young man forcing eye-contact once more.

"nah," eren shook his head, his raven-black locks curtaining his face. "spit it out."

"yes," mikasa nodded once more. "just you."

"yeah?" eren voiced, clearly 'yeah' was his word of the day. his right hand left her face, his fingers trailing down the curve of her breasts. he cupped her right tit, a little gasp escaping mikasa's lips. "wanna keep it like that, doll?"

"yes," mikasa breathlessly replied, the thought of jean pushed to the farthest corner of her mind. "fuck me," she uttered, her eyelids closing blissfully.

eren needed nothing more.

pulling up her lavender-cotton sweater, eren's hands pulled down mikasa's simple, black bra to expose her doughy tits. her rosy buds were hardened, the young man wasting no time in putting her left breast in his mouth. she gasped, the sensation of his warm mouth on her flushed skin already causing a pooling between her thighs. her right tit was massaged by eren's right hand, the young woman in response let out a little moan, spurring eren to further his actions.

his mouth left her breast, his lips placing little kisses down her body. his lips met her abs, before they smooched downward toward her pelvic.

"jean ever made it down here?" eren questioned between his pecks.

"hm?" mikasa hummed, the blood rushing in her ears and the erotic pleasure she felt landed her in a state of euphoria. she could feel eren spreading her thighs apart, his hands pulling her pearl-white sweatpants down before he felt his breath catching in his throat.

"fuck," he murmured, his eyes entranced on the heightening wet-spot in the center of her blush-pink panties. "you're so wet for me already?"

"eren," mikasa breathed, her hips unconsciously riding the air. "need you."

"yeah?" eren's raspy voice questioned. "need me to fill this pussy up, don't you?"

"please," the woman begged, her thighs spreading further apart as she felt eren pull her soaked panties down.

"fuck," eren cursed again, his pointer and middle finger tracing the throbbing, rosy-pink lips. mikasa whined, his light touches a form of sexual torture to her. "yeah, you're gonna take my dick?" eren questioned, his own hands stripping his pants down his ivory-toned thighs.

"mhm," the lust-filled woman babbled, her mind and vision all delayed from the euphoric state she was in.

she could feel eren sliding into her, the audible squelch that was conceived shortly after only amplified the situation they were in.

"still get so fuckin' wet for me, huh?" eren rhetorically asked, the only thing mikasa could really respond with were pleasure-filled moans.

"eren," she gasped, his thrusts steady as he pushed his cock all the way in her, before sliding it all the way out again in a pattern. "needed you so bad."

"yeah," eren responded, his own voice shaky from the frequent breaths he was taking. "jean couldn't fuck you like, fuck babe, like this, hm?"

jean. mikasa thought. jean, jean, jean. what an unfamiliar thought he'd been in that moment.

"you're fuckin' mine," eren hissed, his pace increasing with what could've been percieved as fury. "all fuckin' mine. i don't give a fuck what that, shit, what that blond fuck gotta say. you're my fuckin' girl."

"eren," mikasa whined, his words and the animalistic nature of his fucking her only sent her over the edge. "I'm yours, I'm yours," she'd respond with. "don'tstopdon'tstopdont'stop."

eren's hands played with her tits as he picked up his pace, heavy breaths leaving his lips as loud whines left hers.

suddenly, mikasa's vision turned ghost-white as eren hit that one spot deep in her, that accidental push made the woman reach nirvana. church-bells rang in her ears, her tits bouncing with each labored breath she took. she could feel eren cum in her, his moans of release as he gave himself completely up to her.

"fuck," mikasa could hear eren groan above her, the girl opening an eye as she watched him pull his cream-covered cock out of her. "imma buy you a plan b, baby," eren assured her, the man leaving the dejected woman on the bed as he sauntered off to the bathroom.

"hey," eren's hand rested on the door's frame, his voice commanding mikasa's attention. "i won't snitch," he promised her, until he hit her with the, "as long as you don't fuck around with me."

then he was truly gone, leaving the downhearted woman alone and naked on the sinned-on bedsheets. she dropped her shoulders, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she longingly looked out toward the empty, open door.

it was moments like these where she felt loved, moments when eren's cock was sliding in and out of her while he told her how much of a good girl she was for me. it was also in these moments that she realized she would never truly get the real love she so desperately craved from him, a realization she came to terms with every time he left her solemnly on his bedsheets.

if this was the closest she could get to eren's heart, mikasa told herself she could live with this.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also re: billions' non-stance against what it's supposedly being critical about, what a grim and totally inadvertent joke it is to have wendy upgrade to her true dream & calling of Helping The Vulnerable ft. at-risk women & youth(tm) or whatever phrasing like. hilarious. 100% there to tell someone they're Awesome &/or to stop being a Pussy and billions would never imagine that wendy would ever have to deal with such vulnerable members of the populace who she'd also find personally offputting cringe comp loser style. and i guess if someone was offputting in a like, entitled violent asshole way, well that's just fascinating & perhaps epic, as per her entire history being the on-call performance coach personal manager of emotions & (occasionally reciprocated) enabler for axe & his superior Pscintillating Psyche

and i mean, again. all these kids having these godawful fucking parents? well even after axe fucks off to superhell of course one of his kids is just Here larping him no problem. chuck's having those family dinners and Of Course wendy is! didn't matter enough whether prince's kids actually told him to fuck off to touch on that, good enough that the One Guy there having the most (but not fully) unmitigated downfall is punished by effective divorce, b/c vengeful ruination of your pseudo/romantic partner's romantic partner is beautiful when axe does it towards wendy (itself such a fucking case study in Billions What Are You Fucking Talking About & Airing like after axe becoming increasingly violent and violating towards wendy we're really having that lead to a lingering, Completely affectionate pseudoromance culmination??? also their entire relationship & axe being horrible to wendy followed by "aw that's fine" or "aw that's beautiful actually [interminable "romantic" finale scene]" has been a torment)

billions of course devoting all this focus to how chuck sr. is horrible in general & specifically to his son but like will we end with chuck jr. actually being done with this guy? no, we end with more affection towards chuck sr's bullshit like aww he does everything to toughen you up for your own good b/c he cares aw gee :') like If Only he dropped dead just in time for the finale as a tradeoff there, or you know, we Don't have a touching moment where mister abusive father's entitlement to be that abusive father is framed as something of significance and sympathy. aw at least he means well! that's what really matters here.

and like the Most [actual dis/rupture of an abusive relationship] around is plausibly taylor sending off their shit father douglas, wherein billions a) surely meant from the start for douglas to be shitty and b) also surely meant from the start for him to likely not show back up again anyways after the original guest starring half season arc there. and still, like, i mean the most anybody ever gets cheered up around here is someone takes a grand ten minutes to treat them to a drink or something like that, but while it's relevant & believable that they're upset in the aftermath & i dunno angry that these other mfs orchestrated this to hurt them and all that, like, taylor's family situation becomes irrelevant after that arc's done with. naturally they're not further Punished or anything, and they then similarly & repeatedly take stances against & break with axe as their pseudo father, & they finally touch on it again as this potential way to offer some advice / emotional support for philip & his own random pseudo father, although i guess arguable whether billions' isn't like "ohh fucked up to choose Business over the important relationship: fake dad mentor" like plausibly & who cares. as ever, that taylor's material continues to be more likely to indeed actually be in contrast to everyone else's, as that Foil from the start, just that also ooh it can't do it too much & this power that the role thusly has means whoops we'll always be shortchanging taylor & pushing them aside to prioritize other more Normal Winners & S1 roles b/c we aren't willing to have taylor upstage them in screentime or importance Lol Lmao

meanwhile also wendy just Is prince so not like that ruins any points billions is purporting to make

and rian that supposed idealist's idealist is absolutely Never to experience any consequence for just casually being this abusive coworker/friend to winston the entire time, not even a consequence of the show reflecting on it for a moment save to relish it, and then rian is so lacking in any evident Actual Ethical Stances that we just have to last minute out of nowhere make up some arbitrary reason she's uh totally quitting coincidentally just in time, after like the question of [how tf is rian supposedly more concerned about ethics at all? or more than taylor? please explain in any words how rian can possibly consider herself noncapitalist. or learned anything at all while she was around] being neatly answered by: never addressing it in the least (left to also grimly conclude that another Assumed Logical Premise is that the biggest stance possible Against [xyz] is to fix it from the inside. mostly with vibes) like oh wow how great it is that rian is off to do the equivalent of axe between s4 & 5 & Purchase this beautiful travel experience which, wow, how great that when this arbitrary Moral Issue suddenly cropped up for her to care about so much that it frees her as Too Good For This (not a Disruption that stems from like, taking issue with #finance, or any of the bosses, or the general workplace, or herself, fitting in just great the whole time, and only Increasingly: just this red line of the suggestion she'll need to cheat on homework ever, which she could also simply have responded to by going "uh, no i won't" but again they Had to make something up b/c rian has no reason to Morally Transcend & whatever hints of character rian ever got going are tamped down & contradicted and the only way to present anything she does as comprehensible is to always have her just Say the factual explanation for why she's doing whatever at any given time) it's also not before she got all the money she personally wanted anyways! whew! not unlike wendy only having to think her career was in shambles b/c she leapt into a ridiculously avoidable sabotage not even as a choice of Principles except the principle of "ugh i don't feel like taking this principled stance anymore" but then oh it's okay, besides complaining about it to everyone else for a while now there's no cost & you can do your career pivot anyways. except Even Better b/c rian getting everything she wanted, no cost, no principles, required even less effort / intervention from anyone (none, apparently. okay)

and that little detail of billions' fond sendoff to winston actually being a fond little fête for wags and celebrating the culmination and the whole of all the dehumanization & abuse & power structure enforcing violence against winston, to no consequence but gains for all supporters of this within the show or viewing. and did i mention the tiny detail that wendy is no different from prince while supposedly he's the sicko and she's the savior. oh and the ways wendy always treated taylor, actually she was correct to be In Charge Of them and we're just all pretending taylor was never hurt by this b/c haha that doesn't matter. and taylor as ever having the actual perspective / motivation / stance that makes them most counter to whichever bullshit central man you choose means oh sorry they're on the backburner in this series finale arc taskforce and ooh sorry even in the end they're not quite as good as wendy our hero or rian too good too pure! while giving them the actually better and more coherent ending kind of akin to how the best gift winston could be given is everyone forgetting he exists b/c he's out of their field of vision & they're not currently interested in his role in their power trips, but like, billions absolutely doesn't intend that as some Reward, and billions also went Disinterest Mode b/c they didn't want to use him for power trips & forgot he exists.

and again, that wendy just Is prince. this might say something about that apparent Reform(tm) stance re: ah the realest & utmost form of opposing something is trying to fix it from the inside

[sojirosteacup]

Because I saw some people in the tag doing this, here is my boys over flowers/hanadan sexuality headcanons. it's more based on the manga/anime but if you are like me you could definitely apply those to the kdrama

Tsukushi: bi (I feel that this is implied in the anime and the fact you can borderline romance her in the DS game as a girl…). But she is so deep in the closet she found Narnia at this point. Not because she is repressing anything, she is just slow and never stopped to think of this as a possibility.

Tsukasa: demisexual (it's practically canon???? there is an entire chapter of him describing his sexuality and its literally the definition of demi without using the word)

Rui: pan. No canon reason, just a baseless headcanon unless you count some highly out of context Jihoo quotes as a basis (and I feel that he would be the only one to use the term pan instead of bi)

Sojiro: i think he is het with a huge emotional block that seems almost aro, but isn't really. (i can imagine him wondering if he is aro for a while but then coming to the conclusion that he isn't)

Akira: bi. Again, not many canon reasons besides some small stuff from the live actions, but it's fun to imagine him having a secret crush on Sojiro. (And I feel that he would stay in the closet for as long as possible bc he doesn't want his friends to know he likes men)

Yuuki: het (i get the headcanons of her crushing on tsukushi but for me its just friendship)

Shigeru: bi (it's definitely implied in almost every version, come on). I feel that she had a crush on both Tsukasa and Tsukushi at some point. Unlike Tsukushi, she knows she is bi but she never explicitly told her friends because she feels that it's obvious (it's not obvious, half the group has no idea).

Sakurako: het (or bi at most). I get the people who headcanon her as a lesbian, but she seems to like men a lot even after the whole deal with Tsukasa (and it's funny to imagine Shigeru just having this horrible luck with both men and women)

Kazuya: I can't believe this loser (/affectionate) is the biggest het man in this group

Again, these are my personal headcanons and my opinions change so don't take it too seriously I'll probably regret this post in a few months

[ovrtimelove]

✦ㅤPHIGHTING HAEYAJI...? // BOOSEOKSOON as PHIGHTERS! due to my recent addiction to the game phighting! when my friend made ocs for them, i ended up making a character. then i played the game. needless to say, it's pretty fun, even though it's a mix of the splatoon games and valorant. at least i have something to play to let off steam post-exams!! /jj ㅤ anyways, i thought of assigning phighters to the entirety of svt, but... i didn't really want to leave this one unfinished. 2024, i am a changed bitch. and i'm kinder to myself- so we're starting with BSS for now!! (but before anything else, i'm basing these off the phighters i've played ingame and my experience against/as them.) now without further ado, let's get into it. PHIGHTING- i mean, FIGHTING HAEYAJI ✦ㅤ WHO?: seventeen, kpop boy group ✦ㅤ GENRE: headcanons, crack

BOO SEUNGKWAN would be... ROCKET! (and theoretically, SUBSPACE!) he would be so fucking happy to start shooting shit tbh /JJJ rocket is a ranged phighter who... well, shoots shit! this phighter carries around a big ol' bazooka-looking weapon, and is good for crowd control. like seriously. i've died so many times to rocket mains. but you're super fucked when you have to get away from the opposing team, bc rocket is canonically squishy!! kwannie, upon first playing rocket, forgets that he isn't melee and goes right into the battle. during the intermission, he checks the ability descriptions and has an "oh shit" moment. THEN he gets a strat, which is staying still and shooting from afar. only ever uses his phinisher/ult when under pressure i think... but thank god it looks cool!! aabdeawhe but the thought of him playing subspace though, i think would be rlly silly. like, iirc subspace's phinisher is some vortex void thing that sucks in other players (idk if the user is immune). he'd absolutely ENJOY using that fucking thing, but will go back to rocket bc he claims that he can't see what subspace is even doing whenever he does any of his abilities.

LEE SEOKMIN would be... BIOGRAFT and BAN HAMMER! i hate biograft and ban hammer mains all the same. i keep dying to them because i'm a loser and i suck! /j but i think seokminnie would love playing them. biograft is a double-wielder and is fairly fast! you'd get easy kills if you play this phighter correctly/long enough, minnie probably does accidental kill steals whenever playing biograft... (i'd literally hate to go against him, im not afraid to start saying "i hate biograft") meanwhile, ban hammer has this absurdly giant hammer (lmao) and swings that bitch around. bad for when you're trying to move around while fighting, but at least he hits hard! probably played this one first before playing biograft, because woah! big hammer! heavy tank! more time on the frontlines AND damage-dealing! (i hate banhammer mains but i'd let him kill me if it made him happy)

KWON SOONYOUNG would be... MELEE PHIGHTERS and MEDKIT! literally struggled to settle on one melee phighter, but i figured that he'd sometimes shuffle through all of them. like either before a match or mid-match (yes you can do that), he changes depending on what looks cooler, or what would be more convenient/easy/advantageous. i think his more used one would be skateboard tho, solely because you can probably also do actual skateboard tricks. if he and dokyeom are on the same team, he accidentally steals ban hammer /hj. he's silly like that!! medkit is a bit of a special case though. probably plays during the rare moments where he goes against woozi. yeah, he'd play the game as well and mains medkit, bc uji on his own is already "i may be a healer, but..."!! he's p good at it. hoshi, on the other hand, only goes for medkit solely bc he reminds him OF uji. like,,, the exhausted look? the slight affectionate jabs towards his team? the subtle warnings that's just confirmation that he gives a shit? ujicore.

©ㅤ lookingforweiss '24, no reposting anywhere.

[mymainwastoocluttered]

His Work and Nothing More (Azul)

Azul is a businessman, his girlfriend knew very well where she was getting herself when they started dating.

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

ANGST with a hopeful ending :D

Words cannot describe how much I love this song from the Jekyll and Hyde Concept Album. Also, you might think I have it out for the octotrio and, honestly, I don't blame you, I might have.

Also also, keeping up with the trend, the twins and Azul call each other "soulmate" because, honestly? The three are a package deal.

— (⁠*⁠﹏⁠*⁠;⁠)

"Azul, you're so lame."

Azul rolls his eyes at Floyd, not daring to take his focus away from his work, not daring to give the eel any incriminating reaction. He's really not in the mood for eel shenanigans.

"I'm inclined to agree, Azul," Jade joins, because of course he does. Where one goes, the other follows, after all. "I've never seen you lose your cool like that."

"Yeah, and it wasn't even the fake cool!" Floyd claps childishly, but Azul can see the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"... What do you want?"

"Shrimpy back."

"Not happening. Besides, you heard her, Monstro Lounge is a stupid scam hole, I don't think she'd want to return so soon, if ever."

"Monstro Lounge did steal her boyfriend."

"She knew exactly who she was dating!"

Azul can feel the headache returning. It's been three days since he ended his relationship with the Ramshackle Housewarden, the girl everyone affectionately call "Prefect". They had a fight over his work, with him patient and benevolently explaining to her yet again that his work is important and there are times where he must give it all of his attention, while she'd unfairly accuse him of not caring about anything but his work.

At the end of his rope, he had snarled that maybe they shouldn't be together if that's what she thinks. Only after the girl was long gone and he was calmer he'd register the look of absolute hurt and hopelessness that took over her face for a moment before she steeled her expression and agreed to the break up.

So now Azul had to deal with being alone and feeling guilty on top of being heartbroken.

To make things worse, the twins won't shut up about it, the two being almost as attached to her as he was. (Y/N) was—is responsible for some of their biggest personal developments. Giving Jade a space to trust and open up, giving Floyd the support and guidance he needs, and slowly building up Azul's confidence. The twins adore her, so of course they're bothering him like there's no tomorrow.

The worst part? They're absolutely right.

And Azul hates it.

Both being wrong and what he is wrong about. He can lie to them and himself all he wants, he can pretend everything is ok and nothing bothers him, he can play his same old role again—and that's the problem, isn't it? The same old role, wear it like a mantle, regress all his steps, go back to the past to run away from his present without her.

Which is ironic, because his past self was also without her.

(Y/N) hates his old mask. She understands why he had it, and understands that he can't give up all of it and may never be able to fully be rid of it. She even encouraged him to eventually absorb it, make the good parts—the confidence, the suaveness, the silver tongue—his own.

"You certainly have the core to keep it all," she had told him, not knowing how wrong she was.

Azul is a coward. A coward, a loser, a fool.

Undeserving.

"Soulmate, you're gonna wet the papers," it's Floyd's voice that reaches his ears, but it's Jade's hands that takes off his glasses and dries his tears. "You octobaby~"

"... How long has it been since you've called me soulmate?"

"Overblot."

So of course the twins know what to do. What he needs. He doesn't need to cheer up, he doesn't need comfort. He needs a push. He needs courage to right his wrongs once more.

Azul almost laughs at the prompt response that comes in unison. The evening after his overblot was spent cuddling, just how they did when they were young, three souls in one harmony. No words were exchanged, they did not—they do not need words to understand each other. Soulmates, Azul's mom had once joked, and it stuck.

"She's hanging out with Mr. Shroud near the main building," Jade answers before he can even ask, showing Azul his phone.

On it, is a picture—probably sent by one of Jade's indebted informants—of (Y/N) laughing with Idia. What gets his attention is how casually she touches the boy's arms, and how he lets her despite the blush covering his cheeks. It wouldn't be surprising, (Y/N) can be very touchy, if it weren't the fact it is Idia Shroud of all people, the guy who'd pass out if someone as much as breathed his direction. And yet, he allows the Prefect to talk to him face-to-face and even touch him. If that's not a flag, Azul might need new glasses.

He feels Floyd fix his hair and his hat with precise movements, and when he raises his hand, Jade gives him his glasses, now impossibly clean, in exchange of his phone back.

Taking a deep breath, he rises.

Azul is used to running after his goals by any means necessary, and this time he will not spare effort.

"If you come back without Shrimpy, I'll eat the tips of all your tentacles."

"It's a deal. Jade, you're in charge."

"Yes, sir."

[readerxlit]

Uh OK I can't sleep it's 5am I have a doctor's appointment and I've got brainrot so;

Shin Tsukimi w/ a male s/o:

He's probably known he wasn't straight for a long time but I don't think he thinks about it a lot

Just like sometimes will see an attractive person and go "oh shit I'm gay(umbrella term)"

All is to say he's not surprised he's attracted to you but he is surprised when he's thinking so much about it

Probably confesses on accident if he does at all bc he's a nervous wreck about it and also a loser (affectionate)

Confess to him to make life easier and also to flustere him

Not a huge pda fan especially bc people suck and he does not want to deal with THAT but he will stand close to you maybe leaning if he can get away with it

In private however this man is starved for affection and touch that is actually comfortable so once he's comfortable with you he is so clingy

And like he'll pretend he's not too. Oh it's just more convenient to sit this close to you. Oh you're just more comfortable to lay against . Oh you're just....in possession of nice hands

His hands are very soft and canonically well kept so nice to hold

He wants very much to be the big spoon and honestly? Let him its kinda nice

But also hold him in your arms he'll love it

Does not initiate kissing like ever. Honestly kind of a mess about it. Very: *grabs your arms or sleeves and just holds on while kissing*

Back to the not being here for pda thing: absolutely will just leave if you try to kiss him in public. You can get away with cheek or forehead kisses but he'll pout about it

Shin is very bad at acting like- well you've played yttd and in retrospect he's not committed to the act at all. Which is all to say: this man is really bad at pretending he's not So in love with you

Everyone knows. But God he doesn't want them too. Convincing him it's okay and the others don't care is surprisingly difficult considering how not straight so many people he knows obviously are.

But once you do wow! He's so relieved

A little-read pretty- self conscious about being *weaker than a grade schooler* so unless you're also weak as hell (which: mood) you've gotta let that go unremarked on most of the time

He makes every excuse for why you should do the lifting and the opening of jars to avoid admitting he just can't

I don't know where I'm going with this post honestly

Uh I only write sfw content but mention of Not sfw real quick (I don't know how to putaread more on mibile):

Look I know I get it everyone thinks "sub shin" and you're right but hear me out: switch. He can and will he's just somehow very soft and mean simultaneously which is baffling but also yeah that's him

[oseathepebble]

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily? For everyone!!

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

Tsukiko

Tsukiko doesn't cry easily. They're very good at keeping in their sadness and tears (For better or for worse) But what makes them cry on the spot is any matters dealing with loss and rejection. When Jack rejected them the first time they confessed, they immediately cried. When they got dumped by their first boyfriend, they cried immediately. Sometimes they cry when they're homesick or when they feel like they have no shoulder to cry on when they always are the shoulder other people cry on

Damien

Damien doesn't cry easily either. There isn't a lot of things that make him cry. He isn't one to cry in public but will cry in private when remembering his father. His father's death anniversary is a time when he cries the most. He also cries when he realizes just how lonely he is and how he can't make friends (little loser boy I want him obliterated (affectionate))

Adrian

Adrian on the other hand cries more often than Damien does, but doesn't get super emotional. Similar to Damien, he cries when remembering his father. But he also cries when he's really frustrated. Trying not to be clumsy is a hard task for him and when he gets frustrated by the fact he can't just be perfect and graceful, tears just start to fall from his eyes.

OC Emoji Ask

[twinvictim]

Today is my birthday. So may I please have 9. Blake/ Miles? (It's a funny paring and I like it)

Spoiled

Blake felt the headache behind his eyes throb harder as he stared at the ceiling, unwilling to get up and face the mess he'd already made of the second shot of life he'd been granted. Only a week out of his last stint in the hospital, doing great.

A bottle of alcohol set on the bedside table had barely been touched despite his headache, always a lightweight huh. He felt sick and still sad. Miles had been right, it didn't help, and now he felt even less motivated to clean the house.

He rolled over in bed and closed his eyes, thinking too hard about how miserable and pathetic he was to really get over this headache. He might’ve fallen asleep, or rather fell into that half-sleep where he was dreaming but not really. All confusing events and times that made no sense.

He awoke to a sound coming from the other room.

Instantly startled he sat up, which made his headache worse and proved to be pointless as he was greeted by Miles tentatively walking inside his room and then giving him a light, albeit sort of sadly knowing, smile.

"Hey baby, how're you feeling?" Miles approached him and sat down on the bed.

"Fucking awful." Blake rubbed his eyes and sighed, flushing a little at the pet name, miles interspersed them randomly enough that it always caught him off guard.

"Aw, and you didn't drink that much either." Miles teased him lightly, smiling a little, Blake rolled his eyes.

"Yeah whatever, can't even do that right huh," he muttered, picking at the string on his blanket. Miles just offered him a bottle of juice Blake hadn't realized he had.

"Hey don't beat yourself up, just drink this. I couldn't find anything in your fridge that was edible."

"It's all spoiled and I didn't feel like cleaning it," Blake groaned softly but gratefully, his mouth felt dry and gross since he'd forgotten to brush his teeth.

"Was. You'll still have to go to the store and buy food but I managed to get rid of most of the outdated shit." he shrugged, staring at the plain curtains as he tended to when he was embarrassed about something he'd done to show he cared. Blake let the feeling fester for a moment, even as pathetic as he felt, the gratitude overshadowed it.

"Juice and you cleaned my mess? I'm starting to feel spoiled now." He smiled a little reaching over and rubbing his shoulder, Miles just chuckled and shook his head.

"If that's what it takes to make you feel special then the rest of the plans i had for today will make you feel like the fuckin queen."

"oh yeah?"

"Well if you were up to it I figure breakfast might be a good idea, I don't know if it's universal but I always feel better eating the rest of my feelings in the morning."

"Honestly, i don't remember the last time i had food, it might help..ill..I need a shower though." Blake shook his head, his feelings from the night before, from the morning, and now the ones he was faced with when talking to his only friend (friend, well that was one word for it), it was too much to deal with when his headache still smacked the inside of his head for his stupid mistakes.

"That's what I like to hear, maybe later we can watch a movie or something, you seem like you could use the company, loser." the other man stood up and shoved his hands in his coat with an affectionate teasing smirk.

"For once, I think you're right." Blake smiled watching him leave the room before calling out just as he reached the door. "Hey Miles?"

"hm?"

"Thanks...i..." he paused, "You're too nice y'know?"

"I try," Miles shrugged, but his expression softened as he turned, taking a cigarette out of his pocket to go outside.

Blake just sighed and stood up, seeing something brighter about the day now that he didn't have to face it alone.

[redheadedbrunette]

Ahh sorry to bother you with the last ask. The “lesser than” thing came mainly from the way Ben seems to compare himself to Mike because I remember him saying some stuff along the lines of “Mike is cooler and more attractive then me” - but I could totally be reading too much into stuff lol. As for the middle school part, my recollection is that, in cannon, Ben talks about getting beat up a few times which to me seems like it could hold a little more weight then just standard social isolation, but I may be misremembering things and/or confusing them with my own head-cannons (it’s been a minute since I read some of the earlier books). Regardless, you’re totally right trauma isn’t really the right word to describe it so I apologize for that, it’s my bad. However regardless of what it looks like, bullying can be really impactful on a person’s mental health and I still think that Ben’s experience with it could be linked to the cannon character we see in the books. Again I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, I hope this clears some things up :)

You're not a bother at all, and I'm so sorry if I came off like that. I really truly do love discussing these books and people's headcanons, it's just that some of them don't really jive with canon, and the way it was phrased made it seem like you thought that was the canon characterization.

I've been re-reading the old books recently (month-ish ago), and the thing with Mike as I understood it was that Ben had spent his whole life being uncool with Mike being the cool one, but now he's a spy and is doing really cool things, but because he can't tell Mike about them, Mike still thinks he's a loser nerd (affectionate). Basically, Ben knows he's cool he just wants to be able to tell Mike that he's cool now but can't.

Bullying absolutely can be detrimental to someone's mental health, you're preaching to the choir on this one. It's just that since Ben got *out* of that environment in the first book, he's had plenty of time to live without it, and mostly just seems to regard it as an unpleasant experience. Additionally, given the fact that's it's never referred to outside of times when they're actually in that school, I think it's safe to assume that it's not that big of a deal with his character.

[wordsonpages1-blog]

Could I please request a hot smutty one where betty and jughead have a deal where they can't touch each other for like 48 hours, but they are both teasing each other in that time and one of them breaks (you can decide who) followed by lots of smut. I feel slightly embarrassed to request this 😂

love, love, love this one! Again sorry for the wait, i want to do all your ideas justice so sometimes it takes a while to churn them out! Anyway I hope you enjoy this love and thankyou for your support and encouragement on my work! I love you x

warnings: SMUT!!!!

YOU CAN LOOK BUT YOU CAN’T TOUCH:

HOUR ZERO:

It was hot.  More thanhot actually, in fact Jughead was almost positive this summer was more akin tohell on earth.

It was early July and the heat had already exceededRiverdale records, making it clear they were on track for a sweltering,unbearable few months.

And for the teenager whose wardrobe mostly consisted oflayers, flannels, denim, and leather and of course the renowned beanie the heatwasn’t exactly a cause for celebration.

Jughead groaned, head hitting the back of the vibrantleather booth he was sprawled across. The curser on his laptop screen blinkedat him obnoxiously- a reminder of the words that would not come.  

The agitated boy glanced around the crowed diner, findingeven more cause for frustration. It seemed as though half of Riverdale’spopulation had decided to seek refuge in the Chok’lit Shoppe, making it alittle harder for Jughead to enjoy the air conditioned space he felt even moreat home in than his foster house.

Just as he was spiralling into another brooding monologueabout the woes of wanting to get a refill but dreading losing his booth, thebells at the entrance chimed, signalling the arrival of another patron.

It wasn’t just any patron though; it was the one bright spotin this god awful summer. It was the one thing that was making all hissuffering, completely and utterly worth it.

And that was Betty Cooper, clad in a tiny sundress thatshowed off her gorgeous, long, tan legs.

Her eyes scannedbriefly around the crowded space before landing on Jughead; lighting up whenthey met his and skipping happily over to his booth.

“Hey you,” he greeted, unable to keep the smile off his facein her presence.

“Hi,” Betty returned sliding in beside him before placingher lips over his.

Jughead relaxed into the kiss, savouring the taste of herlips which were much more refreshing than any cold beverage could have been.

As she pulled away Jughead couldn’t help but notice the dewyglint on her skin, the heat obviously affecting her too.  He licked his lips, unable to resist theenticing sheen and wanting nothing more than the trace the column of her neckwith his tongue.

“How are you coping?” the blonde asked in mock concern,shifting in the booth so that her back was pressed fully against the coolleather and revelling in the relief in brought her.

Jughead rolled his eyes at her obvious teasing, pulling hislaptop shut.

“I didn’t think I would find hell this early on but here weare,” he drawled sardonically.

Betty snorted, shaking her head and sending the curls of herpony tail bouncing

“It’s not that bad Jug, and it’s air conditioned in here.”

“I was talking about the crowd not the weather Betts.”

She couldn’t help but laugh properly at that, turning herbody toward him and basking in the light humour in his blue eyes, thrillstripping down her spine at his inviting smirk.

“So you’ve warmed up to the heat then?” Betty asked with a wrysmile at her own pun.

Jughead quirked a brow, amused at her awful attempt athumour.

“Well there are certain aspects of it that I’m partial to…”he trailed off, his tone full of implication as was the hand creeping up her thigh.

“Oh really? Like what?” Betty asked innocently, inchingtoward his lips again.

The rest of the world was melting away- figuratively orliterary they weren’t sure- as the booth became their little haven of younglove, flirtatious banter and steamy infatuation. The air was becoming thick asBetty placed one leg on the seat so that her shin was flat against the leatherand her body was nestled between the table and his black ripped jean clad legthat was bent and resting behind her.

Jughead’s hand came to rest on her hip, fingers teasing the heatedskin even through the thin layer of fabric.

Betty’s eyes closed at the feel of his lips ghosting againsthers as he spoke.

“I’m not complaining about that dress.”

She grinned against his lips, before they fully connectedwith her own and they were locked in a languid kiss. Their lips moved over eachother slowly, sensually, passionately. It was teasing almost, the heady yetrestrained push and pull of their mouths as they tried to quench their thirstof each other without putting on an inappropriate public display.

One of Betty’s hands came up to clutch the v neck of hisblack t-shirt, while the other rested against his cheek. Jughead’s tongueglided nimbly over her lower lip, prompting Betty to open her mouth wider. Heswallowed her sigh and each of them revelled in the moment of teenage bliss,unaffected by the tragedy and treachery of the town that seemed to constantlyfollow them around.

“Really guys I came in here to cool down not heat up,”Veronica’s feigned exasperation broke the pair from their little bubble.

Jughead rolled his eyes at the comment, as Betty bit her lipshyly and repositioned herself to lean against him, facing their companions.

“Betty Cooper what would your mother think?” Kevin added,clambering in next to the raven haired beauty with a playfully scandalisedexpression.

“At least their just kissing and she’s not pregnant?”Jughead suggested earning a smack on the chest from Betty, while Veronicachuckled and Kevin looked absolutely delighted at the remark.

“No but in all seriousness how can you guys stand to be soaffectionate when it’s like a billion degrees outside?” the New Yorkerquestioned fanning herself with a perfectly manicured hand.

“He just can’t keep his hands off me,” Betty quippedcheekily poking her tongue out at her boyfriend.

Jughead raised his eyebrows at her.

“Is that a challenge Betts?”

Shit, Bettythought, noting the darkness swirling in his irises, making her heart stutterand her thighs clench with excitement. It was that and her competitive streakthat manufactured her answer.

“If you think you’re up to it Juggie,” the blonde repliedsweetly, faux innocence exuding her persona.

“Ohhh! I love a good bet! What are the stakes?” Veronicarubbed her hands together mischievously.

“48 hours. No touching. Loser funds milkshakes for the restof summer. Both parties agree?” Kevin added, leaning in conspiringly.

Jughead glanced down at Betty, their eyes met in a headyembrace.

“I’m game if you are Cooper.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal Jones.”

HOUR 12:

It shouldn’t have shocked him how difficult it would be tokeep his hands off of her but it did.

Jughead had registered the difficulty of not touching her ina sexual sense, and knew that would be hard, but decided he was up to thechallenge. He had gone the better part of seventeen years without knowing whatit was like to explore every inch of Betty Cooper’s glorious body so he figuredhe could go 48 hours, no matter how agonising those hours might be.

What he hadn’t factored in was how challenging it would beto keep his hands off of her in the literal sense of the phrase. Only once hewas deprived of the luxury did her realise how innate and engrained into theirrelationship the little gestures had become.

It took actual physical restraint not to lace their fingerstogether as he walked her home and conscious effort to refrain from placing hishand on her knee, her shoulder, her thigh, anywhere whenever she was within afoot of him.

It had only been 12 hours and it was already killing him.  But he could not lose this bet.

And it didn’t help that at this current point in time he wasin the epicentre of all things Betty; her bedroom.

Her parents, Polly and the twins had gone to visit Betty’sgrandparents for a few days leaving her house empty. So of course they hadpre-planned to take advantage of that situation- a plan that was now going towaste.

It was 1am and Jughead was lying on her bed, the summerbreeze filtering through the window creating a sultry air, accentuated by thefeel of her white satin sheets pressing against the bare skin of his back.

It had been a long night. And while Jughead was entirelycontent to just be around Betty- laughing with her, talking to her, eating withher, watching movies with her- he couldn’t help but think just how much morecontent they would both be after engaging in certain more rigorous and explicitactivities.

“Betts?” Jughead called out, wondering where she haddisappeared to for so long.

“Yeah?” Betty replied casually, striding back into herfloral and pastel covered room.

Jughead lazily raisedhimself up onto his forearms at the sound of her voice, but his eyesimmediately bugged out of his head as he took in her profile.

Leaning against her door frame was Betty clad in his black t-shirt which was riding dangerouslyhigh up on her thighs. The hem was taunting him, teasing the smooth skin of herthighs the way his fingers itched to do.

Jughead collapsed back on the bed, closing his eyes andtaking a deep breath. His skin was feeling hot for an entirely different reasonto the raging summer now, and his every nerve was thrumming with electricity.

“Nothing,” he sighed trying desperately not to think aboutall the times she had climbed on his lap wearing nothing but his t-shirt,running her hands through his hair and whispering all the dirty things shewanted him to do to her while circling her hips just so-

Fuck. Jugheadthought, trying with all his will to ignore the twitching in his pants.

“Okay…” Betty said, moving into the room.

She was putting on a show and they both knew it.  

Betty knew she wasn’t playing fair but she couldn’t help it.She wanted him but she also wanted towin.  It was driving her insane not beingable to be close to him while they watched movies and hung out, wanting hisarms around her or his hands in her hair. But now with him in her room in theearly hours of the morning, shirtless and muscles mocking her inability totouch them, all she wanted was to climb on his lap and litter his skin withpurple bruises, run her hands over his broad shoulders and move her hips…

But she couldn’t do that until he broke. So she brought outthe big guns. She could see on his face that he was tempted. He had always hada weakness- a hormonal, possessive weakness- for her wearing his clothes. Aweakness that she loved- so of course she was going to exploit it

A smirk rose on her luscious lips, making Jughead loathehimself more for agreeing to a bet so stupid. But nothing could have preparedhim for what happened next.

Locking eyes with him Betty drew her bottom lip between herteeth and put on her best innocent face; wide eyes and all. Jughead gulped atthe devilish glint in her eyes, an air of danger further igniting his senses.

And then in a devastatingly sinful manoeuvre she pulled thehand that had been behind her back into his view and dropped something on theground. Breaking away from her electrifying gaze, Jughead’s eyes moved to thefloor.

His breath caught in his throat and his pants becameuncomfortably tight. There on the ground contrasting the pale carpet were hisgirlfriend’s damp, black, lacy panties. Jughead’s eyes stayed trained on thesultry garment, his resolve slipping away. He then moved his stare back up hersmooth, slender legs to where his t-shirt rest against those legs. His mouthwent dry as his mind connected the dots.

“God Betty, why aren’t you wearing panties?” Jughead groanedout, a light sweat breaking out of his brow as he fisted the bed sheets so asnot to pounce on his girlfriend, lift his t-shirt and see exactly what she wasmaking no attempt to hide…

Betty shrugged, the evil glint in her green eyes remainingin-tact as she took a graceful step over the lingerie on the floor and towardwhere he lay on her bed. The primal tint in his voice had sent delightfulshivers down her spine, and heat flooding through her veins.  And Betty was more than willing to test hisself-restraint if it ended in their hands all over each other’s bodies.

“It’s too hot for layers… what’s that matter? Will you findit hard to sleep now?”

Jughead’s hands flew to cover his eyes as another tortured noiseleft his throat; strangled and agonised. She was too damn erotic for her owngood that girl. And well he deserved a freakin medal. His girlfriend waswearing his t-shirt and nothing else, while they were alone in her room whileher parents were out of town and he was somehow refraining from fucking hersenseless?

“Jesus Betty you are going to kill me.”

But he didn’t touch her that night. And while Betty found avery tiny part of herself respecting his self-control, the majority of herbeing was absolutely devastated by his well exercised will power, and steelresolve.

HOUR 24:

Betty’s phone buzzed against the coffee table, prompting herto veer her attention from the television screen. Picking up the device, ahappy wave crashed over her body as the name “Jughead” lit up the lock screen.

Quickly, putting in her passcode Betty opened his text. Shewas currently sprawled across the couch in her living room, armed with a tub ofice cream and the remote, basking in the peace of her empty house and stayinghidden from the harsh rays of the sun.

The blonde was feeling the epitome of relaxed, especiallywith the bet between her and Jughead seemingly lax today with him working forFred Andrews at the construction site and therefore, not around to tempt herhormones and dirty urges.

I’m on my lunch break and there is no sufficient entertainment here

Betty snorted at the message, clearly picturing his lipspushed outward in a faux little pout and a twinkle in his eyes as he typed thewords, sighing dramatically at his surrounds.

Poor thing! So gladI’m at home binging Netflix and eating ice cream, dodging that dilemma…

She tapped quickly back. A few moments later her phonebuzzed in her hand again.

Actually in an unexpected turn of events, I’ve found a source ofattraction after all.

Betty’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as she triedto decipher the cryptic meaning of his words.

Enlighten me.

It’s quite a vision picturing all the ways I want to corrupt you righthere.

The words bore through her body, flooding her system withwant. Her breath coming out in a shaky exhale as her nerves thrummed with thetemptation of his touch which she was sorely missing.

My hands sliding up your thighs, my lips on your neck…

He was the one playing games now and damn if it wasn’tgetting to her. Her breaths were pants now and her thighs clenched at thethought of what his fingers could do between them.

Betty let out a groan, throwing herself back on the couch asher heart pounded erratically in her chest. She waited a moment beforereplying. She wanted to resist. She didn’t want to know what he wanted to do toher…

But god yes shedid.

Is that all?

The blonde pulled her lip between her teeth, anxiouslyawaiting his reply.

Not a chance in hell. I’d sit you up on the desk, spread your legs andfeel how wet you’d be for me… then I’d drop to my knees and taste you.

Betty was practically panting now, her legs rubbing togetherin wanton anticipation. Her body flooding with a heat to rival the outsidetemperature and the air conditioned house doing nothing to estop it.

Juggie…

And then only when you were begging me too would I bend you over andfuck you.

Her hand crept down her stomach as the feeling of arousalbuilding up within her became too much. Her eyes closed as she pictured all thesinful things his words had crafted. Whythe hell had she agreed to this bet?

Fuck Jug. Don’ttease me like that.

Betty could almost feel his smirk through the words thatappeared on her phone next.

All’s fair in love and war Betts. See you later ;)

A glare took over her usually soft features at the thoughtof only seeing him later and notbeing able to run her hands all over the lean muscles she loved so much.

HOUR 30:

It’s 7pm when Jughead arrives at the Cooper residence. Ithad been a long, draining day. Working construction for Mr Andrews was great inthe sense that it lined his pockets with some extra cash, but was brutal in thesense that it was manual labour in treacherous heat.

He spent the day taking out some of his pent up frustrationfrom not being able to lay a hand on his girlfriend on some dry wall. Jughead,although proud of his little teasing routine earlier in the day wasapprehensive about seeing Betty now. He was sure she had more tricks up hersleeve and was beginning to seriously doubt his body’s ability to resist her.She was like a drug and he was well and truly addicted and having withdrawalsfrom the cold turkey quit.

Hopping out of his truck and making his way to the frontdoor, the dark haired boy began mentally preparing himself for another nightspent in sexual agony with no release. He was past the point of telling himselfat least he still got to see her; he would never take any part of Betty and herpersonality for granted but it was hot, and so was she, he was riled up and hewas a hormonal teenager, as much as he despised the stereotype.

Just 18 more hours…

Knocking on the door, Jughead took a steadying breath. Amoment later Betty appeared in the threshold. She was clad in a simple pair ofrunning shorts and a t-shirt and Jughead was simultaneously disappointed andrelieved to see she had given up wearing his clothes for the day. Her blondehair was hanging free around her shoulders, her mile long legs again on displayand her full lips once again begging for his attention.  Jughead’s hands gripped the door frame hard tostop himself from reaching for her.

“Hey, come in,” Betty’s tone was easy with a smile to matchthough her insides were bursting into flames.

He looked so unjustly good standing before her in a pair ofworn jeans and a white wife beater that pronounced the muscles of his chest,abs and arms so perfectly. His beanie was hanging in his back pocket and thatone traitorous curl was hanging over his forehead, mercilessly teasing her. Hisolive skin was smudged with dirt and the evidence of a hard day’s work was makingher knees weak and her skin and core heat.

“So hospitable,” Jughead teased as he moved through thedoor, kicking off his boots.

Betty rolled her eyes walking ahead to the kitchen and gettinghim a glass of water.

“Thanks,” he supplemented taking the glass from her, bothcareful not to let their skin brush, afraid the electricity would exacerbatethem.

The air was tense, both their shoulder’s matching and theirusual easy conversation was severely lacking.

Betty was careful to stay on the opposite side of thekitchen to him, clutching the counter to stop her hands from reaching for thehem of his shirt, or yanking on his thick hair.

Awkwardly clearing her throat she attempted conversation.

“So how’d you cope in the weather today?”

Jughead shrugged, tongue darting out to lick his lips as hetried to refrain from conjuring up all the naughty things he wanted to do toher right here in this kitchen.

“It was okay, the afternoon got pretty hot though.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Betty’s eyes went wide as the words slipped out of her mouthbefore she could register them. Jughead quirked an eyebrow at her, both clearlyon the same train of thought- their earlier text encounter. She hadn’t meant totease him tonight as she was fairly certain her own resolve wouldn’t be able tohandle any more games either. Meanwhile, Jughead did his best to remain aloofwhile inwardly his body was burning in desire for her.

“Something got you worked up Betts?”

“It did. But don’t worry I took care of it.” Jughead chokedon his water at the implication of her words.

Betty shot him a challenging look, though really she wasbeginning to panic internally. Every fibre of her being yearned to reach forhim, pull his bottom lip between her teeth, suck the skin on the juncture ofhis neck and shoulder, taste the sweat that lingered and clutch his biceps asher hips ground against his.

Jughead’s eyes darkened and her breath hitched inanticipation. Their gazes stayed locked for a prolonged moment. His dangerousand warning, hers antagonising.  The airwas charged and crackling and both their chests were heaving a little.

Eventually Jughead looked away nodding in the direction ofthe stairs.

“I’m going to take a shower if that’s okay?” His voice wascoated with lust and Betty felt her skin prickle with excitement at the sound;she wanted it closer, breathed in her ear.

“Yeah that’s fine,” she confirmed dazed and desperatelytrying not to think about the last time they had decided to save water byshowering together. A move that had ended with her pressed against the tiles,legs around his waist and his name on her lips.

Jughead nodded and hastily moved toward the stairs, needingto exit the situation as to not lose the bet, by wrapping her in his arms and inhalingher scent, tasting her skin and ravishing her body.

Once he was out of sight, Betty let out a shaky exhale, runninga hand through her hair and hopelessly searching for her control. Her heart wasracing and her nerves were humming. She closed her eyes and clutched at thecounter, seeking solace in the cool surface.

After a few minutes Betty was satisfied that she hadsomething akin to control over her hormones and primal urges and headed for thestairs as well, seeking out the sanctuary of her bedroom.

As she lays on her bed, humming a mindless tune she can hearthe sounds of the water running and it calms her a little… as long as she doesn’tthink about him standing under the spray naked, and glistening… and fuck.

“Betty?” Jughead’s voice makes her body snap to attention.

“Yeah?”

Silence.

Betty hesitates before hopping off of her bed and paddingdown the hall toward the bathroom. Somehow the only and last thing she wants todo is chance walking in on him naked when she’s in such a vulnerable state offrazzled nerves and insatiable hormones. But it’s unlike him not to follow upon something. So she rolls her eyes and chances the encounter.

Bad idea.

“Jug?” she asks gently as she carefully opens the door.

She is immediately dispossessed of all rational thought atthe sight she’s greeted with though.

Standing before her is Jughead, a white towel sitting low onhis hips, making her mouth water at the prominent v lines enticing her line ofsight downwards. A drop of water slides down his chest and between the ridgesof his abs, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as her eyes follow it down.His dark hair is wet and his hands are pushing through it sexily, making heryearn to yank at the tresses. Heat pools between her thighs and she forgets howto breathe. All she can feel is a rush of adrenalin and hormones and want and-

“Sorry, I was gonna ask for a towel but I-“ Jughead stopsshort.

His eyes on her nowlike a spotlight. She’s panting, her green eyes dark and shining in ahelplessly turned on stare as she nibbles on her bottom lip. She wants him. And god can he tell. Hisnow indigo eyes lock on her form. His features turning dark as he practicallydevours her with his gaze alone. She feels much too warm and before she caneven register what she’s doing, Betty finds her hands tugging at her clothes.Her shorts drop to the floor and she quickly steps out of them while pullingher t-shirt up and over her head. She’s left in matching blue lace.

It’s his turn now to be captivated. His eyes hungrily roamingthe expanse of exposed tan skin, still littered with fading marks from hishands and lips from what seems like an eternity ago but was only days.

“Betty,” he groans out, the sound low and rough.

The air is practically humming with sexual tension and sheswallows thickly.

Fuck it she thinksas her mouth says “shut up.” And within seconds she’s crossed the space betweenthem and has her mouth sealed over his.

It’s a clash of teeth and tongues; ferocious and bruising asthey try and satiate themselves of almost two days’ worth of pent up desire.

Her hands are gripping at his hair roughly while his have afirm grip on her jaw, angling her head so that he can devour her mouth better.

She tastes sweet like the fruit she had been eating earlierand it’s such a delicious contrast to the bitter tobacco that lingers in hismouth.  Betty groans and tugs harder onhis hair as his tongue moves sensually along hers. The sound makes one ofJughead’s hands drop to grip her ass, pleasure pulsating through her body atthe feeling.

“Fuck,” he breathes into her mouth as her hips seek thefriction of his own and their mouths move a breadth away to breathe the sameair.

Her head is spinning, drunk off of him as he picks her upand repositions her on the vanity, his mouth latching onto her neck and suckingpurple bruises and she groans and pants beneath his ministrations.

“Juggie,” she moans as his teeth nip at her pulse point; thepitch of her voice is the frequency of sex and shoots straight to his groin.

That earns her a growl and the clasp of her bra undone, ashe makes quick work of the garment, discarding it on the floor. As Jughead’smouth continues down the slender column of neck, one hand runs over her throat-the gesture primal and making her damp with need- while the other moves tocaress her chest. Betty’s ankles lock around his hips, her hands gripping hisshoulders as her hips pick up a sinful rhythm that’s leaving him breathless andachingly hard.

His lips move further still, encasing a nipple between themand making her gasp as she loses herself in the pleasure. Her hips buck towardhis and he groans, the vibrations making her feel even more on edge in such adeliciously raw way. She needs him and she’s not ashamed. Her body is aching tobe connected in the most primal way, needing to feel every inch of him to feelwhole.

Betty’s hands blindly trail down his chest and abs,revelling in the feeling of the contracting muscles and hot skin beneath thembefore coming to rest on the knot of his towel. She tugs and it comes loose.His head drops to her shoulder at the liberty, his breath warming and teasingher skin as her hands pull him closer and his own hips thrust toward the moltenheat he can feel radiating from her core.

“Betts,” he groans, the sound strangled and passionate asher hand snakes between them and begins to pump his length.

Jughead feels as though his every nerve has been shot, hisbody feeling entirely consumed by the electricity she cloaks him in. He’senraptured by her scent, enthralled by her voice, addicted to her taste andlost without her touch. He needs her and he needs her now.

One large hand traps the both of hers above her head againstthe mirror and her head falls back as her hips lift at the dominant display. Hereyes are wide and pleading with him to move, to show her some mercy.

His other hand tugs her panties down her long legs, untilshe can kick them off, before moving back up to run through her slick heat. She’ssoaked in desire for him and the knowledge and sensation makes his head spinand his heart pound as his member throbs.

His finger teases her entrance before pushing in, Betty inhalingsharply at the sensation of finally having him touch her. She whimpers as histhumb rubs tight circles over her clit, her hips bucking up to meet hismovements.

“Fuck your so wet,” he growls in her ear and the sexdripping from his tone makes her body desperate for more.

“Please Jug, I need you.”

He’s in no mood to be patient, deciding to make her beglater, after he’s had his fix of her.

He’s inside of her before Betty can even protest the loss ofhis fingers and fuck it feels god.She almost loses it from the feel of him entering her alone and he has toexercise all of self-control not to do the same. Their pace is furious. The pushand pull of their hips urgent and rough, climbing the way to their peak ferociously.He hitches her leg up higher on his waist as her head drops back against themirror and her moans echo through the room.

It’s needy and raw and fast and hard, and when his handcreeps between them to toy with her sensitive bundle of nerves she’s gone, plummetingover the edge and crashing harshly into the precipice with a scream of hisname.

Jughead follows closely behind her, the feel of herclenching around him being too much to bear and a loud groan falling from hislips. She shudders at the feeling of him spilling inside her. Her eyes closingas she basks in the bliss of their union.

Jughead thinks they’re like the summer storm he’s waitingfor; an agonising build of heat and tension that eventually explodes in arampant and wild display of electricity and thunder. He drops his lips to hercollar bone, gently kissing the skin before smiling into it. Betty runs herhands through his hair affectionately, before pulling his eyes up to meet herown soft and sated gaze.

“I missed you,” she states simply and Jughead grins,dropping a sweet kiss to her lips. He knows exactly what she means. This wasthem, the touching and affection and passion. Not the reserved glances andgaping distance between their bodies as the last few days had been.

“I missed you too,” he replies easily and Betty’s grin makesthe fluorescent lights of the bathroom seem dull.

They stay like that for a moment, catching their breath andrevelling in the feeling of skin on skin and being as close as they couldpossibly get before moving to tidy themselves up.

“Hey Betts,” Jughead throws over his shoulder as he slips onhis boxers.

“Hmm?” she returns, fingers detangling her hair.

“You owe me a milkshake.”

[amorremanet]

obi-wan/anakin/padme (because i can't get enough of your hcs about these three)

another, “send me a ship and i tell you the things” meme, yay!

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa: Anakin. Look, you can only be electrocuted in ways that should’ve been fatal so many times before your luck runs out. Statistically speaking, Anakin is doing way better than he should be, because one of the only issues he has is the door thing, and it’s a miracle that he hasn’t died from how many volts of electricity have ever gone through his body and how many times it’s happened.

So, like…… relative to being dead? Screwing up with doors isn’t that bad.

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them: Obi-Wan did for a while, but has worked on stopping since Padmé asked him to either make his own desk or stop doodling on hers.

As far as making his own desk went? ……yeah, that died after Obi-Wan tried to look up, “how to make a desk” and decided that it sounded messy and complicated and okay, wow, he has so much more respect for Padmé’s desk now that he actually kind of understands the work that she put into making it

Who starts the tickle fights: Obi-Wan.

Who starts the pillow fights: Padmé.

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile: They take turns, but it’s usually Anakin, simply by virtue of him having a weirder sleep schedule than either of his spouses

Who mistakes salt for sugar: They all had moments of doing this until Anakin gave up and put really clear labels on every container that could conceivably be used for salt or sugar (and one for salgar, though only he and Ahsoka ever use that one because Obi-Wan and Padmé think salgar is disgusting).

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning: Anakin, but it’s usually a sign that he’s upset about something. But it is still really annoying. Especially when it happens right before or in the general vicinity of Padmé having some big deal business at the Senate.

Because Ani? Sweetheart, she appreciates that you’re upset and don’t always know how to talk about it until you’ve worked out some of the frustration through tinkering, or working out, or having a late-night self-pity party with microwave taquitos and a pint of Cherry Garcia?

But she also appreciates what rest she can get and would, in general, appreciate it if you could, like…… please care enough about your spouses to not let the microwave beep on the eve of this important vote she’s been trying to argue for that will, you know, literally affect the fate of several star-systems? kthx.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines: Obi-Wan, oh god. They are so cringe-worthy, you’re gonna scream. Or groan and facepalm, which is what his spouses usually do because Obi-Wan is such a loser nerd and they love him.

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order: Obi-Wan and Padmé are in an ongoing dispute over whether it should be alphabetical by author (sub-alphabetized by title), or parceled out into subjects and then made alphabetical by author. Anakin has been permanently recused from the debate because his idea for an organizing system attempted to combine Obi-Wan and Padmé’s ideas, utilized some concepts that were somehow inspired by the wiring inside of a speeder he’d fixed a few days earlier, and literally only made sense to him and R2.

Anakin still stands by his terrible idea. He also maintains that it is a very, very good idea and that Obi-Wan and Padmé would learn their way around it through practice if they would just let him do it and try it themselves. This argument is slightly hampered by the fact that Anakin cannot explain how his system works without at least five charts.

One of the original charts involved sand and how his system would minimize the amount of sand involved in the bookshelf. No one is entirely sure why this was important in designing an organization system for the bookshelf because the closest it’s ever been to sand was the sawdust that happened when Padmé built the bookshelves herself, and now that he’s had a nap or ten, even Anakin admits that this chart was probably not necessary.

However, he maintains that this doesn’t change how his idea for how to best organize the bookshelf is the one they should be using. Neither does the fact that he was exceptionally caffeinated at the time and hadn’t slept in a while. Nope.

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies: They take turns, but Obi-Wan probably does it most often.

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion: None of them, really. They usually don’t even bother to have candles for special occasions.

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen: Obi-Wan and Padmé take turns drawing them on Anakin. Except for sometimes, when R2 is actually the one drawing on Anakin, and Obi-Wan and Padmé get framed, because R2D2 is a troll.

That said, the humans here have figured out that R2’s tattoo doodles are usually more risqué than Obi-Wan’s or Padmé’s — neither of them, for example, particularly gets the “humor” of Anakin having a cartoon phallus drawn on his face — so R2 gets away with this less. This has yet to make R2 stop doing it, but y’know.

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation: Anakin, oh my god. He has souvenir magnets all over the fridge and various surfaces in his favorite speeder, he has souvenir snow-globes on the bookshelves (and one in Padmé’s home-office), he collects all the tacky souvenir junk you never wanted.

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines: R2 has tried in vain to convince his humans that these would totally be fun and they should do it, but they keep shooting him down in favor of doing Mad-Libs. R2 has resorted to filling them out with 3PO, which is mostly just irritating because most of 3PO’s answers suck.