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faeome · 8 months

Text

His

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader.

Summary: Anakin gets jealous when he sees you talking to Obi-wan. Word count: 2.6k Warnings: 18+ only! Mean!Anakin, choking, inappropriate use of force, spanking, bit of degradation, pet names, overstimulation, P in V, creampie, aftercare.

It wasn’t a surprising fact that Anakin was a jealous person. Growing up with nothing, he liked to know that he had something that was truly his. In this case you. He had been obsessed with you from the moment he first saw you. At first, he tried so hard not to break the Jedi code, but you just would not leave his mind. It all started with stolen kisses that seemed harmless back then. Anakin had a strong willpower and he would not let you break down his walls so easily. Or so he thought… Well, here you were now.

Your relationship was complicated, to say the least. Since both of you were Jedi, you were prohibited from attachment. That did not stop you from sneaking into each other’s rooms at night, when everyone was asleep though.

Obi-wan had just returned from the mission, so like a good friend, you decided to greet him. It was nothing special, just you making sure he was okay, and him cracking jokes about how Anakin was staring daggers at him.

You had not told Obi-Wan about your secret relationship with his apprentice, but it did not take a detective to figure it out. If he knew, He was quiet about it. Though, you knew he was against Anakin breaking the rules.

He would often try to get Anakin to open up about you, but he never succeeded. Anakin thought that Obi-Wan was secretly in love with you, and no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he just cared about you as a friend, he just would not accept that. For this reason, any mention of your name from his master got him irritated.

“If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now.” Obi-Wan’s voice broke you out of your thoughts

“Huh?” You replied, not realizing what he was hinting at.

“Anakin. He has been staring at me like he wants to murder me since I got here.” He explained.

“Oh,” You feigned innocence. “Is there a reason for that? Did you fight over something or-” Your blurt was cut short when you felt a cold metallic hand on your shoulder. It was Anakin.

“Your master is looking for you.” He said in a cold tone, not even looking at your face.

“What? I was just with him and he said I was free-”

“Well, you can just go and check it out since you don’t have anything better to do anyway.” He replied sarcastically, staring at Obi-Wan, who was just looking at you two, clearly amused.

You rolled your eyes, irritated at his tone. He spoke like the whole damn galaxy belonged to him.

“Well, see you later, then.” You told Obi-Wan, happy that his interrogation about you and Anakin was over, but annoyed about your master.

———————————————————————

It was already evening now. After you found out that your master was gone on a mission, and there was no way he could have wanted to see you, you were fuming. Anakin had once again lied to you and you believed it, without a doubt. You were sick of this. You were sick of his little games, and this was the last straw. That is why you decided that it was a good idea to go to his headquarters at a late hour and confront him.

You harshly opened his door, not bothering to knock. The room was dark and if you did not feel him in the force, you could have thought that he was not there.

“Anakin?” You harshly called out. He did not reply.

Once your eyes got used to the darkness, you could make out a figure standing. He was looking out of the window.

“Stop ignoring me. You are acting like a child,” you started.

You saw him turn around and heard a low chuckle, which sent goosebumps down your spine.

“Am I?” He said calmly, a little too calmly for your liking.

You turned on the bedroom lamp to see him better, the warm lightning making his face more angelic than ever. Has he always been this beautiful?

“Why did you lie to me?” You felt the anger rushing back to your body. “Do you think that you can just manipulate me at any moment? You think that I’m- I-,” You knew that you were shouting at him, but you did not care.

“That you are what?” Anakin asked.

You did not reply, not being able to form a sentence from the anger.

Anakin looked down at you, staring into your eyes. “That you are a dumb little bitch, who would let anyone touch her? Would you let Obi-Wan touch you the way I do, huh? Would you let him fuck you?” His voice was laced with venom.

Your face turned red from anger, did he really think so low of you?

You did not realize what was happening when you slapped him in the face with all your strength. The slap echoed in the silence of the room.

Anakin touched his face where you had slapped him, looking down at you with a sinister gaze. He grabbed your arms, roughly shoving you into the wall.

“Do that again.” He growled in your ear. “I dare you to do that again and see what happens Y/N.” He repeated.

His body was against you, pressing you against the wall so you could not move. He let go of your arms, easily taking your wrists into his metallic hand and holding them behind your back.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Anakin grabbed your face with his flash hand, squeezing your cheeks roughly and making you tilt your head upwards so you could look at him.

“You do not talk back to me. You do what I tell you to do, and you never ever slap me again.” He lowered his head to your ear. His voice sent goosebumps down your spine, making you wet. You were not gonna give in that easily, though. You were still so angry at him.

“Fuck you.” You said, looking at him straight in the eyes.

“Oh, you will sweetheart,” he replied.

“Fuck you Anakin,” You repeated. “You don’t tell me what to do. We aren’t even together.” You saw him clench his jaw at that. “I can do whatever I want to do. And if I want to fuck Obi-Wan, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do, or maybe I already did. Maybe I fuck him. What are you gonna do about it?” You heard him chuckle. That was not a good sign.

He suddenly stopped, turning ever so serious.

“You fuck him, huh? Is that true?” He questioned you and you could feel him trying to get in your mind with his force. You were not weak though, you were gonna resist.

“Maybe it is, so what?” Anakin did not seem amused anymore, he was staring down at you angrily, like a predator.

“Listen Ani…” you started to explain, not wanting to go too far when you felt a pressure on your throat. He was choking you with the force. You opened and closed your mouth, desperately trying to breathe, but Anakin did not seem fazed at all. He looked amused like this was entertaining to him. The pressure was only getting stronger and you felt the strength leaving your body.

“A-Anakin p-please,” you begged him.

He took advantage of your weakened state and forced his way into your mind. You felt him digging dip in your thoughts and only when you felt like passing out did he let go.

You fell on the floor, once his strong hands were not supporting your weight anymore. Your breaths came out shallow. Your throat was burning and you were almost shaking. You tried to stand up, but your legs felt like jelly.

Anakin came towards you and looked down at your disheveled state. “You are a bad girl. You know that, right?” He crouched down and touched your chin to make you look up at him. “Speak when you are spoken to,” he growled.

“I know.” You replied weakly.

“Good.” He sat on the bed. His legs were spread widely and you could see his sculpted chest from his half-open robe. “C’mere,” he said softly patting his lap.

You stood up and went towards him, standing between his legs. His head was at the level of your chest and you could see him looking at you passionately.

"Well, you need an invitation?” He tugged on your wrist making you sit on his lap. You could feel his hard dick pressing into your ass. “You were talking big just a few minutes ago. What happened? Cat got your tongue?” He was taunting you.

“Shut up, Anakin.” You managed to say.

“I’d watch my language if I were you, doll.” He replied and opened your shirt, tossing it on the floor. His flesh hand was wrapped around your waist tightly, so you could not move. You were not wearing a bra, so he did not waste any time. He started sucking and biting on your nipples, making you hiss. “ ‘M gonna need you to lie down with your ass up.” He said with a final slap on your hardened nipples.

“No, I don’t want to.” You protested.

“I never asked if you wanted it, now, did I?” He replied, hinting for you to lay down.

You did as you were told. You laid on his legs and arched your waist a bit. You knew what was gonna happen and you were guilty to admit that it excited you.

He lifted up your skirt and tore your soaked panties with his metallic hand. “Count,” he ordered and you knew better than to resist.

You could not stop yourself from screaming out when you felt his metallic hand connect with your bare ass. “fuck” you cursed.

“Watch your fucking language.” Anakin warned you. “And fucking count, do not make me say it again.”

“one,” you murmured. You could feel the smirk that was glued on his face. You jumped at every slap, your ass was stinging and you were sure it was bruised.

“Twenty,” Your eyes were tearing and you were breathing as if you ran a damn marathon.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, smoothing your reddened ass. He finally let you go. You were now sitting on his leg, his one hand around your waist again, his metallic one teasing your entrance. His cold fingers started circling your clit slowly.

“You are so damn wet. Does me spanking your ass turn you on?” You whimpered. “I asked you a question.”

“You turn me on Ani, no one else but you.” You tried to reach his face, but he roughly grabbed your hand. “You were such a bad girl, doll. You don’t get to touch me unless I say you can.” You sighed.

"On the bed now! On your knees.” He ordered. You did as you were told, getting on your knees on the bed and arching your back. You could hear him taking off his clothes and you involuntarily clenched your legs together, getting even wetter if that was possible.

He grabbed your hair, shoving you down on the bed so you could not move. You could feel the tip of his cock teasing your entrance and you closed your eyes, getting ready for the sensation.

His metallic hand was on your hip, his grip so hard that you were sure it would bruise. He slammed his hips into yours, entering you in one swift motion, without a warning. You yelped, trying to pull your head up a bit, but his grip was stronger, not letting you move.

“Shit,” he moaned, fastening the pace.

“Ani, slow down, please,” You begged, but to no avail.

“Shut your mouth” he growled, making you clench around him. “Fuck, you’re so tight." Both of you were moaning in sync.

“Ani, I’m close,” you moaned out, trying to hold your orgasm.

“Don’t fucking cum,” he ordered, emphasizing his words with a brutal slam of his hips.

You tried so hard not to, but it was too much. His big dick was hitting your cervix every time he moved his hips and the sounds he made were turning you on even more. With a loud moan, you came around his cock, your walls pulsating around his thick length.

“Shiiit,” he drawled. “I told you not to fucking cum, but you just don’t listen, do you?” He gripped your neck and pulled you up, pressing your back against his chest. The new position made his dick reach even further inside you and you were so full of him that you felt like passing out. His flash hand was around your neck, choking you. His other hand was massaging your breasts roughly. He was pounding into you like an animal in heat.

“A-Anakin, s’ too much, slow d-down.” Your eyes were filled with tears from the overstimulation. He was choking you so hard that you could hardly speak.

“Shut up,” he whispered in your ear, sucking on your pulse point. “Your heart is hammering doll, this must be hard for you.” He pointed out. You just moaned as an answer. “Being left at my mercy like this, not being able to resist me, to stop me,” he continued, tightening his grip on your throat even more.

He was everywhere, touching you in every place. It was all too much. You had no strength left. Your head was slumped against his shoulder and all you could do was moan. You could feel a heat gathering in your core again. You wished you could touch his face, but you knew better than that.

“You can touch me.” He whispered in your ear, biting on your earlobe.

“Get out of my head,” You panted, embarrassed that he knew what you were thinking about.

“Your thoughts are just too loud.” He smirked, snapping his hips harder into you.

You softly touched his face, your fingers tracing the scar on his eyebrow. “I’m gonna cum,” you moaned.

“Shit, me too,” Anakin agreed. He was still hammering into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you.” You moaned at his words.

He tilted his head towards you and kissed you hungrily. His tongue was into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. You bit his lip making him hiss.

“Tell me you love me.” He panted, looking at you with an intense gaze.

“I love you Anakin, more than anything. I really do.”

He closed his eyes, focusing on your words. “Say that again.”

“I love you so much,” you repeated, your cheeks reddening.

“You’re mine, only mine.” He moaned into your ear. you nodded.

“Say it.” He ordered.

“I’m yours Ani. I want only you, no one else, but you.” You could feel your walls clenching at the confessions. The second orgasm was way more intense than the first. Anakin followed you, his dick twitching, painting your walls white. He kissed you, swallowing your moans.

When he pulled out, you collapsed on the bed. You were so tired, that you could hardly open your eyes. You could feel the cum leaking out of your hole, but you did not care. Anakin lay beside you. He was spooning you. Your back was against his bare chest and his hand was protectively wrapped around your waist. He started playing with your hair.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked in a low tone.

“No… well, yeah, but in a good way, I guess,” you replied. He hummed.

“I hate when you talk to him,” He confessed, hinting at the earlier conversation you had with Obi-Wan.

“I know, Ani, but he’s my friend. You can’t prohibit me from doing so.”

“yeah, I know,” he said and kissed your temple. “that doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”

you sighed at his stubbornness.

“Next time though, if I see you chitchatting with him, I’m gonna fuck both your holes so hard that you won’t be walking for a week.”

“Is that a promise Skywalker?” You turned to him raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, it is,” he smirked.

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A/N: Part two? 👀 Also, requests are open so feel free to send some in...You can see who I write for in my masterlist. As always, feedback is appreciated.

#Anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars imagine #Anakin Skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #darth vader #revenge of the sith #darth vader x reader #Jealous!Anakin #hayden christensen

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

crybaby (explicit)

genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

word count: 4.3k

contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵‍💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩

A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~

and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰

read on AO3!

~*~

You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.

And today, you want to test them, too.

That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.

There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.

“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”

“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.

You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”

The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.

When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.

That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.

Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.

One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”

That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.

Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.

His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”

“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.

You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.

“How’s that? Too tight?”

He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”

“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.

“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.

You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.

“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.

You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.

The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.

“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.

He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.

“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”

“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”

You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.

It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.

“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.

Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.

Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.

He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”

The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.

“You can’t.”

“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”

“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.

And still fighting against his fucking restraints.

“Think I could rip these?”

It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.

“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”

You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.

The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.

Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.

“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.

Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.

Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.

You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.

“Shit, that was hot.”

Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.

“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.

“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”

Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.

“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”

His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.

Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”

You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.

“F— ahh!”

Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.

Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.

“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.

The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.

Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.

“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”

You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.

You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.

The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.

He’s still hard between your legs.

“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”

With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.

He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.

The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”

It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.

“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.

Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”

“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”

A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.

The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.

“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”

Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.

You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.

“Oh, baby.”

A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.

“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”

“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”

“No? You sure?”

Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.

“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.

“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”

He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.

Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.

Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.

Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.

“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”

Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.

“Did so good for me, bunny.”

There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.

His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?

“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.

It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.

He’s still crying, you realize.

Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.

“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.

When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.

Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.

Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”

You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”

He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”

“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”

Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“You certainly are.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader

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webslingingslasher · 10 months

Note

I know we’re all obsessed with frat!peter, but are there any instances where nerdy!peter gets a lil mean too?

for the first time ever, peter is ignoring your call. there are times he's unable to answer, but you know he's purposely watching his phone ring before he silences it.

he's actively ignoring you and you want to scream.

peter doesn't get mad at you. but he is. and it's making everything worse. you can't apologize if he won't talk to you.

it's been two days.

'if you don't call me back in an hour i'm coming over.'

'and yes, that's a threat.'

peter must be really mad. because he didn't answer.

'hi, is peter around?' you can tell may wants to shout the truth, instead she shows solidarity to her nephew. 'sorry, honey. he's out right now.'

you challenge her, 'can i wait for him?' may isn't playing your games, 'he didn't say when he'd be back.'

it's not may's fault, but you still huff at her. 'he has to talk to me at some point.' you see a flush of parent coat over her features.

'sometimes when someone is hurt, they need to think about how to react to it before it gets worse.'

you feel like crying, 'is he really that mad at me?' may slowly closes the door, 'i'm sorry, but peter isn't home.' you want to catch the door and bark out to peter, who you know is holed up in his room, but you respect his space and leave.

it was all your fault. you pushed his harshest barrier and you swear you didn't mean to, it was just the most hurtful thing you could spit out in a moment of fury.

instant regret. you swore you heard peter's heart break the second you finished. his crushing silence hurt more than an equal blow. he just calmly grabbed his backpack and left. and you let him, you were speechless, you couldn't believe the things that came out of your mouth.

you retreat with a few texts.

'i'm sorry, peter. i really, really am.'

'i won't keep bothering you, just talk to me when you're ready.'

'i love you. and i know you love me too, so you don't have to say it back tonight.'

and he doesn't. not when you check before bed and not when you wake the next morning. you've never felt peter's cold shoulder before, but it's icy and stings.

you'd see him on campus and he couldn't ignore you in person, right?

there was only one way to tell, and it was when you saw him sitting at an outside table. scribbling in a notebook while he looked over a textbook and some sheets, he never looked so pretty.

it's selfish, but you want nothing more than to kiss him.

'hi.' sitting backwards, your back hit the edge of the table. if he tells you to fuck off you'll make a quick escape. looking at his side profile he shows no reaction, he was expecting you to join him.

'hi.' peter doesn't share the interest to look at you.

'wanna talk?' you hold your breath, hopeful he'd say yes and you could do your best attempt at damage control.

'not really,' his calm nature unsettles you. you'd rather he spit in your face.

'can i talk?' peter didn't want to talk, but he might listen. you just wanted to make it okay, or try.

you think he agrees just to get you to leave quicker. 'sure.'

anxiety scratches your insides, you've never been so ashamed in your life. it was an odd feeling wanting to do nothing but hold peter close to you while you apologize, while also knowing he wanted nothing to do with your touch.

'i'm sorry. i've never been more sorry for anything in my entire life and i don't know how to make it right. i would do anything to take it back, if i could go back in time to stop myself i would.'

it's unfair, but the reality of the situation hits. tears prickle at your eyes. you just feel so bad.

'i don't know why i said that, and i regretted it the second it left my mouth. i could try to come up with a million excuses, but i said it and i'm taking accountability. i know it doesn't help, but, like...'

you close your eyes, when you open them a tear races down your cheek. you're quick to wipe it. it's not about you.

'i am really fucking disgusted in myself. i'm ashamed and embarrassed and i know i broke your heart. peter, i... i took the darkest part of you and weaponized it. i broke your trust and i am a really, really, really bad girlfriend.'

you deserved the silence. 'you're mad at me and that's fair. i can't say it enough, but i want you to know i'm sorry.'

the last sentence caught his attention, peter shakes his head and laughs under his breath.

'you see, the thing is, i don't think i'm mad. i'm just really fucking hurt. you told me ben was just waiting on someone to put him out of his misery.'

you wince. it sounded so much worse coming from his mouth, it was like the words burnt him and left a bad taste behind. they were seared into his brain. there was nothing in the world to justify what you did.

'you were right. you broke my heart and trust in one go. how do you fix it? i don't know, but i can't even look at you right now. talking to you feels like i'm pulling glass out of my skin.'

'i'm glad you're disgusted with yourself, because i am too.'

there was the blow. it wasn't half as harsh as yours, but it dug deep. you couldn't blame him either. it's entirely too selfish, but you need to know if there's something to work for.

'are you going to break up with me?' you sound sad but you wouldn't blame him if he said yes, you would only blame yourself forever. you don't like how long the silence was, it felt like he was actually thinking about it.

'i don't know.'

three words made you feel empty. the future of your relationship and happiness was a gamble all because you couldn't shut your mouth.

'okay.' it wasn't. 'i know it seems pointless now, because i already failed at it, but i'll never say anything like that ever again. i never, ever wanted to hurt you like this.'

for the first time in three days, peter looks at you. he looks tired.

'you did. that's why you said it. you were mad and i wasn't feeding into it, you got even more upset and said the most hurtful thing you could've to me.'

you're desperate, 'i know! but i swear it wasn't on purpose! i didn't know what i was saying until i said it, and i mean, c'mon peter, you know me. i've never said anything like that before, and i won't ever again.'

peter throws you a bone, maybe he really heard the desperation in your voice. 'i know you're sorry, i know you feel terrible and you wish you could take it back. but that doesn't make it okay. and i need you to understand that.'

you nod quick, 'i do! i understand, i promise.'

peter sees it differently. 'i don't think you do. if you did, you wouldn't be here begging for me to say everything's okay.'

his words make you pause, you see his stance in a different light. your apologies have done nothing but make peter feel like he has to accept them. may said he needed space and you haven't given him any, instead hounding him with texts or forcing him to listen to the same string of sorry's.

you stand, it's very clear to you what needs to happen. if you have any chance of reconciliation. you need to cut contact.

'you're right. i didn't see it like that, but you're right. the second i walk away, i promise i'm done. no more texts, no more surprise visits, no more bothering you on campus. nothing. you come to me when you're ready. no matter the conversation.'

you follow your word and do just that while trying to ignore the worst form of anxiety that crosses over your chest. walking away, unsure if your boyfriend still loved you, was a feeling you wouldn't wish on anyone.

it spreads the longer you hear nothing from peter. was he adjusting to life outside you? should you be doing the same? you didn't realize how much you wrapped peter into your life until he wasn't around.

you had to find a classmate to do revisions with. you had to plan lunch with friends instead of peter. you had to scroll past articles and memes he'd enjoy. you had to stop yourself from texting him a hundred times a day.

the closest you got was a glimpse at his face when he was talking to a friend across campus, he was laughing. you felt relieved knowing he was happy, until you noticed it didn't seem like he missed you all that much.

after four days and all hope lost, you decided it was time to wave the white flag. it was over, if you grieve the relationship now it won't be so bad when he tells you officially. you'd be able to walk away without a panic attack.

while wallowing to yourself in your room, you berate yourself internally for ruining the one true good thing you had. spider-man was entirely too calm when he entered your room right as you felt a tear race down your cheek.

'why are we crying?'

you sit up, you've never been so happy to see the masked hero. until you piece together why he's there, you weren't pre-maturely crying after all.

sniffles around your words, 'cause we broke up.'

the mask is off in a second, 'who said that?' you shrug, the answer is in front of your face. 'isn't it obvious?' peter sits next to you, 'we're not broken up.'

you still don't feel comfortable, 'are we going to be?' peter rewords himself, 'i'm not here to break up with you, no.'

‘then why are you here?’

peter exhales deeply, a tired excuse of a laugh. ‘i can be upset with my girlfriend and miss her at the same time.’ for just a second, you brighten. ‘you miss me?’

‘yeah. of course i do.’ you almost explode when peter pats your knee, ‘you’re my best friend.’ it’s enough to make you want to cry. you fall into him, an awkward hug, he doesn’t say anything.

‘you’re my best friend too. i missed you so much, i’m so, so, so sorry, peter.’ you melt when a gloved hand rubs your back, it’s not even his skin but you’ve missed his touch so much it’s enough to settle you.

‘it’s okay.’

the words you’ve been looking for, your heart soars. digging your fingertips into his shoulder blades, you hold him tight. ‘is it?’ you don’t want to force him into it.

‘it is.’

except when you remember your words it still doesn’t feel okay. you’re not sure if it ever will. you wonder if that’s what peter was waiting on. 'i don't know, peter. i don't want you to resent me.'

'hey,' you're held at arm's length, peter wants to make sure you're looking at him. 'i took time away so i wouldn't resent you. you really, really hurt my feelings, staying away helped me protect yours.'

you can't imagine the strife you placed on peter, you know actions speak louder than words, but it's a promise to yourself that you will never do anything like it again.

'i'm so sorry, peter. i feel terrible.'

a hint of a smile, 'i know you do. watching you squirm has been a little fun.' you drop your jaw, the nerve. 'oh, you're so mean for that!'

peter cleared his throat, you weren't out of the fog yet.

'but, seriously. that fucking killed me, i mean, i really thought i couldn't breathe. i was just... shocked. shocked more than mad or sad or... i'm not sure.'

you open your mouth, peter stops you, he knows what you're about to say. 'and i don't want you to keep apologizing. it happened, we worked through it, and it doesn't need to keep being mentioned.'

'okay.' it's quiet, you understand what he means, but you feel like you can't explain your sympathy enough.

'ben was one of the most important people in my life and i opened up to you about it. i know it was in the heat of the moment, but you can't use those things against me. it will make me feel like i can't share anything with you.'

'i'm-' peter cut you off with your name, you held your lips closed.

'you're not a bad girlfriend either. you tried. you reached out, you stopped by, you apologized, you stayed away. you did everything you could do to prove how sorry you felt. even if i ignored you, that didn't go unrecognized.'

peter takes a deep breath, 'so,' his hands cup your face, thumbs brush your cheek bones softly. 'i love you, i'm not breaking up with you and it's okay.' peter rubs his nose against yours, 'okay?'

peter isn't saying it's okay because it's fine you talked to him like that. peter's saying it's okay because he sees your imperfections and loves them. peter's saying it's okay because he's said some things he doesn't believe either.

peter's saying it's okay because we're all allowed to fall from grace from time to time.

you want to say sorry, instead you smile and push against his face with your own.

'okay.'

'good. now give me a kiss, i've been dying for one.'

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker angst

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wayfayrr · 10 months

Text

Self-conscious captain

the next self aware link and this time it's the captain my favourite boy, warriors!

[masterlist]

“Hey [Name], I’ve been going through some of my old games to clear things out. I found my copy of Hyrule Warriors and wanted to know if you’d like it?”

“I thought that was one of your favourites though, what’s come into you to give it away like this? Do you want anything for it, I’d feel bad simply taking from you.”

“Nah I got it as a gift anyway, I beat the game and did everything there is to do. Plus I know you’ve been wanting to play it anyway, so please have it.”

There’s something off about this, between how skitterish they’re acting and the fact they’re so willing - that they’re so desperate for me to take their favourite game from them? I’ve got nothing else to go off of though, and they are right I have been planning to buy it. They wouldn’t be offering if they didn’t want me to have it so what is there to lose?

“If you’re sure then. I can’t wait to play through it myself rather than watching you.”

Is there such a thing as too much relief? Because if there is then that was definitely it, with how their shoulders relaxed; all the tension left their body as they handed me the game. Why does this feel like the start of a creepypasta, am I simply gonna go home then suddenly there’s some new version of Ben drowned for me to deal with? I won’t know until I play I guess, but it might be fun.

There’s no better time than now to learn though, I’ve got the whole afternoon to myself anyway so why not? Putting the game into my switch; booting it all up it seems fine, so there’s nothing there that should have messed with them. It’s up until the first cutscene for anything to even show up that could be wrong. Link’s eyes seem to be focusing on me far more than they should during it, more than what should be possible, with more of a smile than he usually does during this too. Then I finally get to the level.

I can’t control Link, the game seems to be frozen, not a single bokoblin moving, Link is still moving, the camera isn’t even focused on him now and he’s moving closer to the screen.

“Honeybee? You’re here! I knew your friend would cave pretty face when I pressed them. It’s so nice to have you here alone with me!”

“...What.”

“Oh it’s all alright dear, I did think you’d be a little shocked at first because, well I mean I know this isn’t something that happens very often. Would you be against getting to know me better though?”

What. The. Hell. No wonder they were so eager to pawn the game off to me, a living character that seems to be obsessed with me? If the roles were switched then I’d be throwing it at them as quickly as I could, I’m amazed they could even keep calm for long enough to hand it to me without seeming any more suspicious than they did, he threatened them he’s already admitted that stop lying to yourself [name]. Why does he even want me over the person who actually played as him? None of this makes any sense.

“I - No I wouldn’t, actually could I ask you some questions too? Just y’know, try to get my head around all of this.”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t ask me any, I mean right now? You’re treating me more like an actual person than anyone else ever has.”

“...”

“Where would you like to start then honeybee? We can take this at your pace, you’re in full control here.”

Where should I start? There are so many different things I want answers to, I could stay here for hours just talking to him to find out everything; now that I think on that, it’s not like I have anything else planned today. I could simply just stay here for a bit and talk, it’s probably the safer option too. If I don’t, do I really want to test the sanity of a sentient game character, no.

“Um, if it’s all up to me then. Can I ask when you first became aware? Of the fact that you’re you know, a character in a game.”

“Oh, that? Well, it was about three months ago now, two or so weeks before you played with them. They really just saw me as a toy, not caring if I got hurt or anything, which is fair they never knew I was anything more than that; but you didn’t know either and you treated me like a person. You always apologised whenever I took any damage, never tried to get me hurt for your own pleasure or replace me as soon as you could. It was only a matter of time until I started to want you, then it was fairly easy to get eyes in your phone.”

“You've got ‘eyes in my phone?’ what do you mean by that.”

He looks so pleased right now like he wanted me to ask that exact question, it’s such a smug look on his face too. There’s something else to it as well, I can’t pinpoint what but there is certainly another look on his face. With how emotive he is it really doesn’t feel like this is some kind of sick joke, he’s too alive.

“That’s one of the things I’m most proud of!! It was pretty easy when you linked your phone to their switch to download a photo, I just made part of that connection a bit more personal and permanent. I promise I didn’t listen in on anything too private, I swear on Nintendo that I’m not like Cia. I promise.”

“Moving on from… that then. Why’s the real reason you wanted to be with me like this, I mean I get the feeling there’s more to it than you’re letting on.”

“You caught me I actually wa-”

The scowl that crossed his face when he was interrupted by the doorbell was unlike the cheery demeanour he’s been using, it’s almost like he’s angry or jealous of me having my attention split from him; it barely lasts a second though. Before his face swaps to one of remorse possibly because he got so irritated over something so trivial, that needs my focus more than he does right now.

“I think you already know, but I should go check that. I’ll only be a couple of minutes, it’s probably nothing after all.”

Not even a word, just a nod and a look of rejection as if he was a cat I’d had to move off of me when I turned to go and answer the door. True to my word it wasn’t something that going to take long, simply signing for a couple of parcels. It only took me a few minutes to collect it and then start heading back to my room, I’ll be able to open them while I talk to Link after all. Really it would be cruel to make him wait after everything else he’s been through, even if he’s been monitoring… most of my movements, is it bad that I still feel bad after knowing that?

A shrill yelp followed by a shattering sound right when I was about to go back in wasn’t the best sign, the worst thing is that this time there wasn’t a digital overlay. Did someone break in - or break out? Only one way to find out.

“Honeybee? I - I’m sorry I - I really was trying to keep it in one piece.”

He’s out of the game.

Link is in my room bawling his eyes out because he accidentally broke my LED screen, the hero of hyrule is standing in my bedroom crying his eyes out because he broke a piece of glass. Earlier there was always a feeling of him trying to come off as likeable to me, to the point where it was manipulative, he wouldn’t even consider the idea of me not liking him. Now it’s like he’s having a panic attack at the possibility that I won’t like him because he broke my monitor.

“I - I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please - just - I - I didn’t mean to break it.”

“Link -”

“My clothes would probably be worth a fortune to someone right? I - I mean it’s an actual set of armour from the Hyrulian forces - it’s real chainmail. If you sell it - it’ll more than make up the cost, right? You won’t hate me if I did that, right?”

“Link. I don’t hate you, it was an accident and even if it wasn’t I would forgive you.”

That seemed to snap him out of it, if only a little; he’s still crying but now he’s not rambling about ways to make it up to me. He clearly seems to want me, even if I still don’t entirely get why so maybe I could; opening my arms proves the fact that he really does just want some affection. Waiting wasn’t even on the cards as he practically dove into my arms barely seconds after looking at me for permission.

“You really don’t hate me then? Really? Even though I’m not as good as the other games?”

“I don’t hate you for wanting to get out of what was essentially your prison or - you being as good as the other games? Your game is different but it’s just as good”

“But - you and your friend both said it. I - I’m not canon. You still treated me well that‘s why I fell for you, but I’m still - I’m still less than the other games. So I just, I really wanted to prove to you that I can be the only one for you [name]”

Stroking his hair seems to be calming him down now, the tears are slowing and his breathing is evening out the longer I stay here with him; only a few more moments until I should be able to get some answers from him. Adjusting to having a roommate might be a little strange, he really does seem nice though, nicer than anyone else I’ve ever met. Wait no I’ve only really just met him, why am I already thinking about that? It’s something to consider for certain - oh come on, just admit to yourself that you love this. He cares so why not see where it all goes?

“Canon just describes the story, it doesn’t change anything about you and I’m sorry if it’s ever seemed like that link. Come on, I'll clean the glass up, then you can finish explaining things okay?”

“No wait, it’s my fault, let me clean it up for you. If nothing else, please honey.”

“You don’t have to, it’s not a bother.”

So he already knows his teary puppy face can get me to agree to anything, he’s been here for less than a few hours and it already feels like we’re in a relationship as he knows me inside out… Which makes sense given that he has been watching me through my phone. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad if I stopped fighting against what he’s offering. The gloves he’s wearing make picking up shards less painful than it would be otherwise, doesn’t take him that long either.

Long enough for something to flicker on my switch, but that can wait.

#these boys have my heart and soul #changed my brain chemistry since the first one I wrote for sky #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #self aware lu #self aware au #yandere x reader #lu warriors #lu warriors x reader #moss✦writes

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fatesundress · 1 year

Text

⭑ life of the party. tom riddle x reader

summary. when one game is ruined, another begins.

tags. explicitly fem afab reader, smut with as minimal plot as i can physically allow myself, minors SCRAMMM, loosely implied hogwarts university au as always, flirting via mutually assured jealousy, impeccable communication skills, established relationship, the guy the reader is talking to gets annoyed she doesn’t want him but he doesn’t do anything, religious undertones that might have accidentally become overtones, party setting (background drinking & general degeneracy), probably the meanest tom i’ll ever write and i still tried making him nice because lots of heavy jealousy tropes are misogynistic icks fo me, fingering, piv, a little degradation but that's life, fawwwk the weeknd but the song this is based on is so sexy, etc

note. Me writing this: nightguard: ON, religious themes: RIFE, shame: ABOUNDING. i am so embarrassed by this. have i mentioned smut doesn’t come naturally to me? i don’t even know how i got here. i’m on heelys at the proverbial skatepark and everyone else apprenticed under tony hawk. Do you understand? ok.

word count. 4.5k

request. yes!

He is what he is. Stoic, sacred, silent and then verbose. You knew he had his fixations before you knew him at all — no one made top of every class without a shadow of obsession to contrast the glint of their excellence — but you could not anticipate how that obsession might translate when applied to a person. You’re not sure he had either.

He is what he is. The muggle world taught him religion and in it he learned only the tenor of devotion. When his fingers take your jaw, trace slow at the stripes of your thighs, steady your hips from under you and hold tight, there’s reverence in it. His kisses don’t wane with the months gone by; they soften with purpose. They rouse with hunger. His eyes don’t waver. Should a good man gaze upon his altar? Should he smile like sin when he gets on his knees?

He does.

Tom Riddle is what he is and you solemnise in equal part.

You don’t come to these things often, taken aback by the sight of the Slytherin common room in ribbons and banners tattered within the first hour of the night. Bottles glow green in the lake-light on every available surface, scattered about the place and spilled in sticky puddles.

You’re a wallflower tonight, though not for lack of options. You observe from a comfortable distance the drunken antics of new adults, free to carry their liquor in hand rather than hidden away in pockets and pillowcases. There’s something vaguely entertaining about it, intoxicating where someone else might mind their business and actually get intoxicated, but you see no harm done. Whispers fall on your ears before the rumours make their rounds, couples slink away in the darkness where someone in the crowd might not notice, and the night’s first instance of someone hurrying up the stairs in tears comes barrelling right past you. You invent a story for why to keep yourself busy.

It’s all just buzz.

Now, if you don’t come often, he certainly doesn’t.

Tonight, he has, and for reasons explicable but few, you’ve found yourselves on opposite sides of the room.

It began on the green couch by the window with a chess set spilled across the velvet — a bet you made with him upon arrival; you find wizard’s chess trite, Tom finds it feckless, but it makes for a good challenge.

What else could convince a man so perpetually controlled to pour himself a drink? And you imagine, from his perspective: what else could convince a woman so determined to outwit him?

It’s for no nefarious reason — to slight him or see him stumble — but because you love the fractions of relief that colour him, soften him, temper him. It’s because he loves you in every shade, in every pliancy, in each and every fervour. But mostly it’s because you love kindly to best him, and he loves mirthfully to best you.

So you play. The game is slow and teasing, hard to see in the ripples of the lake, and toppled over in the final moves (which you’ll insist you were winning) by the same swaying body that spills its drink down the front of your dress. And so you’re up, brushing your index finger over the corner of Tom’s sudden scowl. You whisper like a joke not to kill anyone but he’s so quick to look like he might that you consider repeating yourself with more conviction.

You poke at the spot where his jaw is tense. “I’ll be right back.”

Drying liquor from lace is a matter of precision even with magic, and this is half-gelatinous like someone raided the kitchen’s supply of jelly and steeped it in something offensively alcoholic. You utilise the clearer light of the Slytherin girl’s lavatory, wetting your dress before evaporating the water from it. There’s the matter then of transforming the stained fabric back to its original colour, and you huff in the mirror at having a game you thought you didn’t care much for ruined so close to its end.

You care about Tom, though. The omphalos of your issue resides there.

(It is fair to say most of your issues reside there.)

With only minutes gone by, the common room crowd looks doubled when you return, and though you wade through you’re pushed back like debris caught in a tide, the bodies more stubborn rubble than you. So you retreat, stand flush at the wall with your arms crossed, and wait for Tom’s eyes to land on yours. To, perhaps, open your mind and let him in, tell him exhaustedly from afar that the game is at rest and you’re ready to leave.

But even he’s hard to find in the bodies unified in breath, flux like a big set of lungs — and nothing about Tom blurs into the background.

So you wait. You wallflower. You pour yourself a drink.

The moment stretches on longer than anticipated, and after many detached observations of the room, someone else finds you instead. He’s tall, blond to Tom's inkwell black, kissed by summer sun even as autumn soothes its blister. Your gaze wavers back to him a few times though his own is uncertain for all its focus. He seems to be waiting for you to stop, perhaps for the silhouette of someone else to slip by and prove you were looking at them instead. When no one else comes, he traverses the crowd with a straightened inch of pride, stepping through new colours until he’s close enough to you that the light settles emerald-black and you can see the great chasm of his beauty up close.

His freckles are carefully dusted, his structure strong, all squarish, rugged lines and shades of August.

The chasm is not a lack of allure, per se, it’s just a lack of him. One man’s August to your adherent’s December, the intention of his warmth, a thing that does not come to him like everything else but that he makes and makes and mends when it lapses because he does not want to see you cold. The singular reward of a rarity like that.

“Hi," you say, glancing over a broad shoulder.

“Evening," he responds. He takes you in with a look of (unappreciated) appreciation. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No, we haven’t.”

He extends a hand. “Oliver Belby.”

“Pleasure.”

You don't offer much in the way of conversation. He’ll vie for your attention regardless of how much of it you offer. So you lean against the wall where the buzz of sound prickles your hair, let him talk, let his hand come up to rest beside your head, and you find Tom.

He’s right where you left him, a new clearing in the crowd making space for your eyes to meet.

His are ice even at a distance. As if you proselytise — as if you could — kneel for another man or let one kneel before you, all of your trysts together faithless.

They aren’t. He must know they aren’t.

But you put yourself here and standing at the target of his gaze has never been marred by the severity of it.

You decide then; when one game is ruined, another begins.

In truth, you can’t deny the element of theatrics in the way Tom denies everyone but you: his soft, penitent smile, the apologetic cant of his head, how his eyes can find you in any crowd and whoever is clinging onto his every word that night will follow his gaze and deflate when they discover you at the end of it. Sometimes it’s harsh. Final. He lacks the patience of pretence.

Sometimes, the week is dull. Sometimes, the whoever is undeterred. Sometimes you’ve pushed him here.

No — You’ve never done that before. This is new.

So it’s one of those weeks, and one of those whoevers, on an anomaly you may as well have directed the encounter yourself, and Tom is half-indulgent as he forces his eyes away and you force yours to stay.

You watch him from across the room as the woman drapes herself across the arm of his chair. There's a furious blush on her cheeks even in the dark, a pretty disarray to her shoulder-length hair, skirts pleated over knees she faces toward him. She smiles and offers him a glass of something, and you know for certain Tom understands this game because he accepts it, eyes flicking back to you as he swirls the glass in contest.

To that you take an inappreciable sip of your own.

“ — Which is why no one has even attempted to kill one in decades. And capturing one is another thing entirely. My mother works with the Greeks on occasion, and the nearest she came to a den was in the twenties. If she had gone any nearer I wouldn’t be here.”

“Hm?” You look back at the man in front of you. His lips glisten with having licked them between every phrase.

“The manticores,” he says, undeterred.

“Right. Five-X beasts, aren’t they?”

“That’s what I said. I heard from one of my mother’s colleagues that — ”

The woman is whispering something in Tom’s ear, her hair on his cheek. He’s looking at you as if you had said the words. You don't shy away when Oliver leans in to whisper too. It's a strange, fractured language. Too intimate while too detached. Whispers from across the room, desire from another in the place of desire for each other. But the strangeness should not surprise you anymore. This is Tom: beautiful and wicked and the one you chose.

“ — And Nundus are worse. Deadliest creature there is — ”

She’s laughing about something, the woman. Half-reserved, she’s angled toward the party despite her leaning on his shoulder and the dissipating inches of distance.

“ — They stalk in silence. Think of the size of one, right? They’re apex predators… so commanding and still they could be in front of you one instant and gone the next.”

You engage with detached interest. “Really?”

And now Oliver barricades your view, his other hand coming to rest on your other shoulder.

“Do we have any classes together?”

You blink up at him. “No.”

“No, right,” he says, eyes darting to your lips. “I’d remember you.”

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you wonder if for some men one-sided discussions of class five beasts qualify as foreplay.

You place a hand on his chest, eyebrows raised and half a startled smile curled.

“You’re not going to kiss me," you inform him.

His face falls, but with it, at least, does his hand.

“Did you hear me?"

“It’s loud,” he decides suddenly. “Can we go somewhere else?”

You’re not sure you believe that.

You duck under an arm and search the crowd again. The woman is on the arm of the chair looking thoroughly dismayed, and for good reason —

Tom is gone.

Your breath is caught.

“This isn’t… You’re not going to…?”

You flash Oliver with a glare. “So you did hear me.”

He makes a pathetically sad face, and you think: it’s a wonder he made it this far when his courtship evidently hinges on the subject of his affection not listening to a word out of his mouth.

“Goodnight, Oliver,” you say tersely.

“What was that for, then?” he asks, and it comes out practically whined.

“That was talking.”

“But you’re —”

“Belby.”

He is what he is. It shouldn’t surprise you when he appears beside you all fatal rage on a quiet lead, narrowly fixed to you.

Tom’s cold is his median temperature, yes, but in moments like this it’s as much for you as his handmade warmth. He’d pluck the fingers off a boy like Oliver. The digits would string eaves like icicles.

Oliver is looking between you and Tom like something terrible has dawned on him, hands urged to his pockets to soothe the flames your unveiled ties to a man seemingly singed him with.

“Riddle — Mate, I didn’t… I didn’t know she was…”

Tom’s voice is flat, edged with something that makes his monotony sound merciful. “Pity. If only you knew as much as you talked.”

Oliver’s mouth opens and closes and opens again, but wisely he settles on silence instead of excuses, and wastes no time fleeing slowly into the crowd.

The instant he's stolen by the wave Tom's eyes are on yours and they’re molten. You move to say something but his patience was for show — he’s dragging you by the arm out of the common room and into one of the dungeon's empty classrooms without giving you the chance.

“Tom —" You start to protest, mouth twisted in a scowl. “Tom, you're being —"

He shuts the door behind you and locks it with such delicacy your breath catches at the question of how badly he's holding himself back right now.

“I'm being what?"

“You're…" It's hard to formulate an answer when he's like this. “It was a game. Don’t pretend you weren’t playing too."

Tom inches in, chest rising with angry breaths. “A game, was it? Did he know that?"

“Did she?” you hiss.

“It certainly became apparent when she was discarded so that I might retrieve you.”

“It was as apparent to Belby, judging by the way he was left gawking.”

“And with great restraint I let him. A mercy I didn’t take his eyes so he was left without the ability.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now I understand; the problem wasn’t the game, it’s that I played it better than you.”

He looks at you for a long time before casting a silencing charm on the room.

Oh.

Oh — your heart barrels off somewhere. You’re without it for a moment, breathless in the wake of the implication of a spell like that.

“Tom," you say politically, “It was hardly a matter of rescuing.”

He nods imperceptibly. “No, it wasn’t.”

“So we’re in agreement.”

He hums a non-answer.

Each step he takes forward, you take back. It's a peculiar way to have a conversation, but part of the game, you suppose.

Interesting he’s still playing.

You still gasp when you inevitably hit the wall, hands going to the carved edge of a windowsill.

“You’re terrible when you win,” he whispers. His lips brush your ear.

You shudder, mouth dry as you press against his shoulder. “You’re worse when you lose.”

His mouth drags down your jaw but he refuses to kiss you, still withholding something, still holding back in some terrible, electrifying way. Instead one of his hands starts to dip down your side. You shiver as he grazes the skin of your breast, exposed by the cut of your dress, and continues down your waist. His mouth traces your bare shoulder as his tongue makes a slow pass, skin beneath leaping at his careful ministrations.

With long, slender fingers he's pulling your dress off button by button, torturously slow, and you feel mocked to have cleaned it earlier. You feel foolish to have left knowing the night would have ended like this regardless.

“Tom,” you say. His name is followed by staggered breaths. Your fingers are clutching the windowsill.

The air is thick as he watches you, flesh exposed by each undone catch. And still he will not kiss you, even as his lips trail along your collarbone and you start to tug instinctively at his belt. He makes the barest sound of disapproval and spins you to face the window, your hands urged on instinct to press against the glass.

“Tom...”

He hikes your dress up your thighs. It clings to your hips, a meagre two buttons left attached to keep it from falling.

Your wand clatters as his fingers work the clasp of your bra and his teeth skim your shoulder, leaving little bites he laves at softly with his tongue. You shudder, arching into him, searching for friction. His touch traverses the shape of you and stops feather-light between your legs.

“Tom —”

“Quiet," he admonishes, a little tut.

Your skin jumps at the caress of his fingers tracing deceptively timid up your thighs, like he hasn’t done this before, like it’s care and not punishment. His favourite oxymoron: the gentlest torture, the cruelest succour.

His index draws upon the lace of your underwear and tugs it aside with a tenderness that makes you gasp. Is there a way to press harder to the glass without breaking it? Is there ever enough to grab onto when he gets like this — so singularly focused on ruining you?

One of your hands latches onto the arm half-disappeared in your skirts instead, clinging steadfast to the white of its sleeve, your body swaying as if at sea. He keeps you steady, but this is his crown achievement: that he is all there is that can do it when you’re so singularly focused on being ruined by him.

The sinews of his forearm work imperceptibly under your fingers as he appreciates the newly unfettered flesh, two digits sliding between your legs, and he makes a satisfied sound against your shoulder at the wetness he finds there.

You’re swallowing air with a moan stuck in your throat; too dry, you realise, and feel like you’re choking when he starts to move, gripping his arm somehow tighter.

As a rule, you know how much he loves this, but it’s tenfold under his jealousy and you think deliriously, probably wrongly, that for how much he enjoys pushing you you enjoy pushing him to get here. You’re his and he’s yours, there’s no doubt in it — but what he can reduce you to — this desperate creature, writhing and panting, trying in vain to satiate herself with a simple finger — this is the translation; the fruition of his fixations put to a person rather than a subject. This is what it is to be his.

Tom’s mouth opens in a smile at your throat, and there it feels more like bared teeth, a smile that is as animal as it is pretty.

And still he whispers with all the affection of a lover, your name peppered between kisses.

His fingers inch inside you and curl. You’re wedged in the perfect balance of his discrepancy; your disciple and your devil. He worships you in white. He ruins you in it too.

Now his name comes out in a babble, wet, half-drooled. A nip pinches the little space beneath your ear and you clutch impossibly harder to his wrist, your free hand squeaking down the window pane as you grind on his palm. He crooks his fingers against a spot that has you seeing stars, thumb pressed to your clit in a subtle motion, and you feel yourself tip off into an unknown he aquaints you with often. In a blurry, flickering moment, the light gleams somewhere beyond the stained hues of the window. And that should be it. The edge is at your heels and you should be falling. But the sinful press of him at your back commands you to lurch against him, and when you moan for more he pulls his fingers free.

You stumble weakly into his chest, startled.

“What… What?”

“Ask me for it,” he says, his voice hoarse, markedly wanton in spite of himself. But there is hunger and there is greed. There’s a sacrificial lamb and there’s a hunted one— there’s religion and there’s Tom. He invents something that demands greater devotion.

And the sound of leather rasping serge and metal clinking metal reels your conscience in. There are no stars. There’s just him. His belt is coming undone.

“Tom.” You swallow. “I told you —”

“And I want you to ask.” He cups your jaw in his hand, thumb tracing your lower lip. “Nicely.”

Your mouth opens for him and you shiver, pressing further back for contact he doesn’t allow. Instead another small tut is whispered at your neck, relinquished to a kiss.

His finger brushes your teeth when you speak. “I want you.”

You feel him shake his head and you all but whine.

“I want you inside, Tom — need you — please.”

“Please?” he echoes mockingly.

“Please,” you say in an uneven voice, and when your tongue grazes his thumb he eases it further into your mouth with an appeased hum.

And so his zipper comes down and you hold your breath with the weight of your dress at your hips.

He pushes inside you with minimal pause, slow still, to relish the way your little pants hitch, stop, and shudder out in a broken moan; the way your breath is guided by his rhythm, how you’re shaped by him, fitted around him. You careen forward and your palms flatten on the window, trembling at the first thrust. Your fingers quiver down the glass.

Tom pulls you into him on the second, patience abandoned. His lips chase your pulse. His grip on your jaw tightens as his thumb pops free with a string of spit. He nudges deeper at a new angle, your body forced as far as it can lean back, gasping heavenward when your head falls helplessly onto his shoulder.

It’s profane. Your ears almost dull to the sound of his hips snapping against yours, the obscenity of your skin on what he offers of his, but you waver between earth and something else, brought back to him by the torturous sight of the edge he stole you from. Always brought back to him.

He’s gripping your jaw in one hand as he pushes deeper, and your fingers are lost for purchase on his forearms, trembling to hold onto something.

When he pulls out of you at your brink again, you practically cry out. But you understand when he spins you around again, hiking you up against the windowsill, your shoulders hitting the cool glass with a gasp you barely register in the fog of your desperation. His eyes are dilated to midnight rings. The weight of his desire is frightening. The insistence to claim you better yet.

He wastes no time before slamming into you again, pausing at the hilt to watch your eyebrows wrench together before resuming his pace. When your mouth falls open, he swallows the noise that tries to come out of it.

It doesn’t feel like a kiss. It feels like the prolusion to a bite.

His fervour is all the reminder of how you got here in the first place; the teeth, the force, the grip on your waist. There’s a rough sound he makes in your mouth that you taste more than you hear. The vibration of him is everywhere. You’re too hot and it only occurs to you because your fingers are clawing at fabric instead of skin that he’s fully dressed and your last button has finally snapped, lace pooled on the classroom floor as he fucks you. The thought is consigned to oblivion as quickly as it came. It doesn't matter.

You're clutching at his shoulders, the nape of his neck — trying to kiss him back, but you feel torn in two by the intensity of his ministrations, a low, immolating pressure building in your abdomen. He’s proving something with you, and his is a relentless, unending appetite. You don't really stand a chance. You think you've known that from the start.

Tom is all-consuming. Tom is a force of nature, a whirlwind that sweeps over you. He leaves you breathless and somehow needing more as he wraps his hand around the small of your back and seizes you in place.

Still you find yourself wanting to be held tighter.

“T-Tom —" you sob through the kiss but he doesn't give you enough air to do it. He pushes harder, a rasp at the back of his throat, some carnal thing. He’s not withholding your release now; he’s spurring you towards it.

When he withdraws his lips from yours, his brows are furrowed in concentration. There’s a fine lustre of sweat on his forehead, stray curls pulled across dark, wicked eyes. The sight of him alone is condemnable, but it isn’t for you.

He likes to watch you like this. When your moans dissolve to the torn syllable of his name, again and again. The veneration. Your choked litanies.

You give them to him.

Sleeves drawn up by your body’s baser instinct for skin, you’ve carved a canvas of praise into his arms, marked up to his elbows where your fingers had jerked upward to rake at his back. This time, when you find the cliffside, nothing stops you from teetering off its edge. Flames dance across your skin in an explosion, your collar damp and bitten, your waist in Tom’s vice-like grip. One hard thrust and you’re falling.

The stars are blinding. You decide then they were made by him.

Your head lulls back as shocks of pleasure course through your body, the coil snapped, the hard shape of him inside you demanding impossibly for more. You stumble through the light, vision blurred, praying and praying and praying. His grip comes to find your jaw again.

You keen, addled through the ecstasy, barely conscious of the way his panted breaths hitch at the sight of you in his hands, soft-eyed and puddy.

He always comes apart soon after you, but it happens rarely that your body is so taut on the wire of rapture that his twitching inside you takes you with him.

This time it does.

You sink against him, thighs numb and wet, one hand slipping dumbly from his figure and swiping across condensation-foggy glass. The second orgasm is an aftershock of the first. It’s slow. It feels like being caught from the last fall. You land in Tom’s arms and they’re holding you through whitened knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, ink-dipped twines of quills, and he steals the shaky sigh from your mouth by pressing it to his.

You kiss lazily and softly. The room feels sheeted in static. The electricity lingers on both of you.

It’s hard not to fall against the window when he slides out of you. You slump on quivering legs into his chest instead, heaving, spend trickling down your legs.

Tom holds you close, adjusting his trousers before sinking down to settle you on his lap. He wipes the sweat from your face and presses his lips to the feverish skin it plastered. Forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, whispers of your name down your jaw like a prayer answered. Your eyelids flutter shut and he kisses you there, too. His lashes tickle.

You love him more than you worship him. You think he likes that more.

He grabs your forsaken dress from the floor and slips it over your bare shoulders, summoning the snapped button back in place before he begins to meticulously clasp the rest together again. His mouth leaves a path at the skin under each one before it closes, and you hum in dizzy gratitude.

“That was,” you say in a very worn voice, “a terrible way to reinforce not making you jealous.”

He glares at you from one of the lowermost buttons and you giggle sleepily, curling a hand into his hair. “Don’t look at me like that. You liked it too.”

He leans back up at that, tipping your chin with his fingers, gaze darting over the wrecked state of you with a pleased gleam in his eyes. “You liked it? What a modest interpretation.”

Now it’s your turn to glare.

He is what he is — pursuit of buttons forgotten as you’re laid down on the moonlit floor to be reminded just how much you liked it.

taglist. @lyis @indimoss @poddzi @esolean @d1anna @maripositanoctruna @mentally-in-northern-italy @ronniemaximoff1234 @moobell55 @jaerang @ramayantika @saltwaterbythesea @acube07 @togenabi @adazito @kitcat334 @blaurghhh @shutupfinn @jaymeeshayden @lilu842 @leaosee @garfunkelworld @definitely-not-captain-america @multiplefandomstan @mangoesareorange [ note: inexplicably, a bunch of my tags aren't working. i tried to fix it but if you didn’t get a notif i’m sorry! ]

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle smut #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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digitaldiarystuff · 9 months

Text

Age Doesn’t Matter (or does it?) Pt. 2

summary: You meet a boy at a club on a night out but realize he looks younger than he says he is

pairing: Pablo Gavi x Y/N

genre: fluff/ smut

————

You woke up with a massive hangover and for a second forgot about last night. That was until you picked up your phone to a hundred messages from Pablo, Pablo Gavi.

They started with a slight denial.

“What makes you think that??”

Then got a little freaked out.

“Did someone tell you that?”

And then came the confession.

“Yeah, I am.”

But it didn’t stop there.

“Okay yes I lied but you would never talked to me if you knew, I could sense your panic while asking my age and I freaked out I’m sorry but I didn’t want to blow my chance.”

“Did I blow my chance?”

Then he got agitated.

“Are you going to leave me on delivered for ever?”

“Why aren’t you saying something?”

“Are you asleep?”

You were in shock for most of the texts but him asking if you’re sleeping via text got to you and you started cracking up. He was a little too needy and now that you know you have a 4 year age gap and he’s a football star you just couldn’t continue this. However, his infatuation with you kind of made your heart flutter, he was too sweet and persistent for his own good. One text won’t hurt, you thought.

“Yes, I’m asleep at the moment.” you said and got a response in less than a minute.

“Ha ha very funny, have I told you I have a thing for funny girls?”

“You apparently also have a thing for older girls?” you teased. His age was still a problem.

“Maybe I have a thing for you.” and when you didn’t answer “Look I really am sorry I was just afraid you wouldn’t want anything to do with me if you knew my age.” and another “You know billions of people in relationships have age gaps and they all get along well.”

“Are you only this talkative when you’re sober or did I drink too much last night?”

“Okay I understand I’m not on your best side right now but I’m free tonight if you want to meet and I can show you why age doesn’t matter.”

Your mind went blank for a second and you remembered how his hands and lips made you feel last night, you hadn’t been intimate with anyone for a really long time and to be fair, Pablo looked far more attractive than any guy around you and his text just rose your heartbeat but your obsession with his age was nagging your brain constantly.

“I’m busy” you said terrified about his effect on you.

“Tomorrow?”

“Can’t”

“The day after?”

“Can’t”

He sent a frowny face emoji and you thought it was the end of the conversation. It made you a little sad but you wouldn’t admit it but a few minutes later you got another text.

“What are you doing now?”

You stupidly thought this was just an ice breaker and said you were at home not doing anything.

“Then send me your address” he texted and you realized he wouldn’t give up easily. You mentally slapped yourself but gave him the address anyway. He said he’d be at yours in half an hour which was too little in your opinion, your home was a mess and so were you.

After taking a quick shower you weighed your options about outfits, it should be put together but not too fancy or he’d think you wanted to look good for him, which you did.

Finally you decided on biker shorts and an oversized crewneck. And you also applied some concealer under your eyes and started putting the dishes in your dishwasher and even stuffed all your clothes lying around your room to your closet hoping he wouldn’t snoop in there. Thank god your roommate was at work and you didn’t have to worry about her. As you were finishing up cleaning around the doorbell rang and you took a breath and saw Pablo on the side, your drunk mind didn’t play any games to you and he still was gorgeous. His hair was wet and he had a duffle bag on his shoulder smiling widely at you.

“Hi” he said timidly.

“Hi, come in” you said and let him in. “Were you at training?” you asked given his outfit and bag. He sat down on one side your L shaped sofa and you sat on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I came straight out of practice.”

“So when you texted me”

“Yes I was still on the pitch.” he said giggling.

You loved how much effort he put into just texting you but also hated how it made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Would you like to drink anything?” you asked whilst getting up.

“Just water would be fine.” he shrugged and you got 2 bottles giving him one. You hated how your eyes diverted to his biceps while he was grabbing it. He really made this hard for you.

You both took sips and didn’t talk for a moment.

“Look Pablo, I” he cut you off with a kiss. His hands found your cheeks and you reciprocated after a second placing yours on his chest. He backed down after a moment to seize your reaction. But he saw you, eyes closed and enjoying yourself so he kissed you again. This time he was much more confident in his moves, he grabbed your waist and made you straddle him like you weighed nothing, getting you more aroused. Your legs were on both his sides as you never broke the kiss. He then started kissing your chin and neck making his way around your body and you used this opportunity to get rid of his shirt.

His hands held your lower back and you involuntarily rolled your hips against him invitingly. His eyes rolled back for a second and said “Can I?” and you just nodded. He took your hoodie off and saw you weren’t wearing any bra underneath.

“I see you’ve prepared for me.” he cockily smirked and you rolled your eyes but his confidence made you want him even more. He hungrily attacked your breasts with his mouth while you were rocking your hips and pulling the hair on the nape of his neck. You could feel his bulge underneath you growing every second. He then made you lay down on the couch and went for your leggings, looking to your eyes for permission.

“Please” you said in a small voice and were shocked about how needy you were. This was new to you.

He smiled and rolled your leggings down your legs. Suddenly you felt overly exposed and reality hit for a second until he saw you were wearing a burgundy lacy thong, he smiled but kept his mouth shut. You could practically see the lust in his eyes and that made all insecurities disappear. He started toying with the hem of your underwear and you were barely able to wait.

“C’mon Pablo I need you to show me age doesn’t matter.” you whined hoping to get some action and it seemed like it worked. He didn’t even took your thong off just shoved it aside and started to pepper some kisses around your core. He also started to rub your inner thighs and when you were about to complain again, he shushed you with a lick across your folds and all your words disappeared immediately. You forgot how to breathe for a second but Pablo kept on going and going until you were arching your back and screaming his name. After you came, he wanted to give you a moment to catch your breath but he was about to explode if he stopped now. He was a goner as soon as he heard his name roll over your tongue as high pitched moans. He freed his member and started running his hands over it a few times before reaching out his pocket and pulling a condom out, you rolled your eyes again but he smirked and said “I was hoping you’d want me as much as I want you”

He put it on your entrance and checked if you’re okay with this but all you could muster was a nod. You were still seeing clouds because of the orgasm he gave you mere seconds ago. He coated himself with your juices and pushed it in. You yelped at the feeling but he wasn’t going to give you time to adjust as he started thrusting with all his power. All the practice he goes through daily made his stamina another level and his movements never slowed down only sped up and after a while you both became undone.

Both of you were still trying to catch your breaths, his head was on your chest and his arms around your waist. He looked up at you and you melted, he looked like an angel even though he did some devilish stuff to you minutes ago, his eyes were the best brown you’ve ever seen with hints of honey and his post hair sex was even more appealing than his regular hair.

You didn’t say anything but he still understood what you wanted to say and kissed your lips, not like the previous ones fueled by lust, just adoration and you smiled into the kiss realizing maybe age really didn’t matter.

————

note: okokok just hear me out, this is the first time i’m ever trying to write smut and i don’t even know what to think but i hope you enjoy it, lmk if you have any ideas

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blueskittlesart · 5 months

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I've heard that while most people really really love BotW and TotK, some people hate those two for going open-world, and some people hate TotK specifically for something about the story. As the resident Zelda expert I know of, what do you think of those takes?

"something about the story" is a bit too vague for me to answer--if you look at my totk liveblog tag from back when the game was newly released or my general zelda analysis tag you may be able to find some of my in-depth thoughts about the story of totk, but in general i liked it.

the open world thing though is something i can and will talk about for hours. (I am obsessed with loz and game design and this is an essay now <3) breath of the wild is a game that was so well-received that a lot of the criticism from older fans who were expecting something closer to the classic zelda formula was just kind of immediately drowned out and ignored, and while i don't think it's a valid criticism to suggest that botw strayed too far from its origins in going open-world, i am more than willing to look into those criticisms, why they exist, and why i think going open-world was ultimately the best decision botw devs could have made. (totk is a slightly different story, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.)

Loz is a franchise with a ton of history and a ton of really, REALLY dedicated fans. it's probably second only to mario in terms of recognizability and impact in nintendo's catalog. To us younger fans, the older games can sometimes seem, like, prehistoric when compared to what we're used to nowadays, but it's important to remember just how YOUNG the gaming industry is and how rapidly it's changed and grown. the first zelda game was released in 1986, which was 31 years before botw came out in 2017. What this means for nintendo and its developers is that they have to walk a very fine line between catering to older fans in their 30s and 40s now who would have been in nintendo's prime demographic when the first few games in the franchise were coming out AND making a game that's engaging to their MODERN target demographic and that age group's expectations for what a gaming experience should look like.

LOZ is in kind of a tough spot when it comes to modernizing, because a lot of its core gameplay elements are very much staples of early RPGs, and a lot of those gameplay elements have been phased out of modern RPGs for one reason or another. gathering collectibles, fighting one's way through multilevel, mapless dungeons, and especially classic zelda's relative lack of guidance through the story are all things that date games and which modern audiences tend to get frustrated with. for the last few releases before botw, the devs had kind of been playing with this -- skyward sword in particular is what i consider their big experiment and what (i think) became the driving force behind a lot of what happened with botw. Skyward sword attempted to solve the issues I listed by, basically, making the map small and the story much, much more blatantly linear. Skyward sword feels much more like other modern rpgs to me than most zelda games in terms of its playstyle, because the game is constantly pushing you to do specific things. this is a common storytelling style in modern RPGs--obviously, the player usually needs to take specific actions in order to progress the story, and so when there's downtime between story sections the supporting characters push the player towards the next goal. but this actually isn't what loz games usually do. in the standard loz formula, you as the player are generally directly given at most 4 objectives. these objectives will (roughly) be as follows: 1. go through some dungeons and defeat their bosses, 2. claim the master sword, 3. go through another set of dungeons and defeat their bosses, 4. defeat the final boss of the game. (not necessarily in that order, although that order is the standard formula.) the ONLY time the player will be expressly pushed by supporting characters towards a certain action (excluding guide characters) is when the game is first presenting them with those objectives. in-between dungeons and other gameplay segments, there's no sense of urgency, no one pushing you onto the next task. this method of storytelling encourages players to take their time and explore the world they're in, which in turn helps them find the collectibles and puzzles traditionally hidden around the map that will make it easier for them to continue on. Skyward sword, as previously mentioned, experimented with breaking this formula a bit--its overworld was small and unlocked sequentially, so you couldn't explore it fully without progressing the narrative, and it gave players a "home base" to return to in skyloft which housed many of the puzzles and collectibles rather than scattering them throughout the overworld. This method worked... to an extent, but it also meant that skyward sword felt drastically different in its storytelling and how its narrative was presented to the player than its predecessors. this isn't necessarily a BAD thing, but i am of the opinion that one of zelda's strongest elements has always been the level of immersion and relatability its stories have, and the constant push to continue the narrative has the potential to pull players out of your story a bit, making skyward sword slightly less engaging to the viewer than other games in the franchise. (to address the elephant in the room, there were also obviously some other major issues with the design of sksw that messed with player immersion, but imo even if the control scheme had been perfect on the first try, the hyperlinear method would STILL have been less engaging to a player than the standard exploration-based zeldas.)

So when people say that botw was the first open-world zelda, I'm not actually sure how true I personally believe that is. I think a lot of the initial hype surrounding botw's open map were tainted by what came before it--compared to the truly linear, intensely restricted map of skyward sword, botw's map feels INSANE. but strictly speaking, botw actually sticks pretty closely to the standard zelda gameplay experience, at least as far as the overworld map is concerned. from the beginning, one of the draws of loz is that there's a large, populated map that you as the player can explore (relatively) freely. it was UNUSUAL for the player to not have access to almost the entire map either immediately or very quickly after beginning a new zelda game. (the size and population of these maps was restricted by software and storage capabilities in earlier games, but pretty muhc every zelda game has what would have been considered a large & well populated map at the time of its release.) what truly made botw different was two things; the first being the sheer SIZE of the map and the second being the lack of dungeons and collectibles in a traditional sense. Everything that needs to be said about the size of the map already has been said: it's huge and it's crazy and it's executed PERFECTLY and it's never been done before and every game since has been trying to replicate it. nothing much else to say there. but I do want to talk about the percieved difference in gameplay as it relates to the open-world collectibles and dungeons, because, again, i don't think it's actually as big of a difference as people seem to think it is.

Once again, let's look at the classic formula. I'm going to start with the collectibles and lead into the dungeons. The main classic collectible that's a staple of every zelda game pre-botw is the heart piece. This is a quarter of a heart that will usually be sitting out somewhere in the open world or in a dungeon, and will require the player to either solve a puzzle or perform a specific action to get. botw is the first game to not include heart pieces... TECHNICALLY. but in practice, they're still there, just renamed. they're spirit orbs now, and rather than being hidden in puzzles within the overworld (with no explanation as to how or why they ended up there, mind you) they're hidden within shrines, and they're given a clear purpose for existing throughout hyrule and for requiring puzzle-solving skills to access. Functionally, these two items are exactly the same--it's an object that gives you an extra heart container once you collect four of them. no major difference beyond a reskin and renaming to make the object make sense within the greater world instead of just having a little ❤️ floating randomly in the middle of their otherwise hyperrealistic scenery. the heart piece vs spirit orb i think is a good microcosm of the "it's too different" criticisms of botw as a whole--is it ACTUALLY that different, or is it just repackaged in a way that doesn't make it immediately obvious what you're looking at anymore? I think it's worth noting that botw gives a narrative reason for that visual/linguistic disconnect from other games, too--it's set at minimum TEN THOUSAND YEARS after any other given game. while we don't have any concrete information about how much time passes between new-incarnation games, it's safe to assume that botw is significantly further removed from other incarnations of hyrule/link/zelda/etc than any other game on the timeline. It's not at all inconceivable within the context of the game that heart pieces may have changed form or come to be known by a different name. most of the changes between botw and other games can be reasoned away this way, because most of them have SOME obvious origins in a previous game mechanic, it's just been updated for botw's specific setting and narrative.

The dungeons ARE an actual departure from the classic formula, i will grant you. the usual way a zelda dungeon works is that link enters the dungeon, solves a few puzzles, fights a mini boss at about the halfway point, and after defeating the mini boss he gets a dungeon item which makes the second half of the dungeon accessible. He then uses that item in the dungeon's final boss fight, which is specifically engineered with that item in mind as the catalyst to win it. Botw's dungeons are the divine beasts. we've removed the presence of mini-bosses entirely, because the 'dungeon items' aren't something link needs to get within the dungeon itself--he alredy has them. they're the sheikah slate runes: magnesis, cryonis, stasis, and remote bombs. Each of the divine beast blight battles is actually built around using one of these runes to win it--cryonis to break waterblight's ice projectiles, magnesis to strike down thunderblight with its own lightning rods, remote bombs to take out fireblight's shield. (i ASSUME there's some way to use stasis effectively against windblight, mostly because it's obvious to me that that's how all the other fights were designed, but in practice it's the best strategy for that fight is to just slow down time via aerial archery, so i've never tried to win that way lol.) So even though we've removed traditional dungeon items and mini-boss fights, the bones of the franchise remain unchanged underneath. this is what makes botw such an ingenious move for this franchise imo; the fact that it manages to update itself into such a beautiful, engaging, MODERN game while still retaining the underlying structure that defines its franchise and the games that came before it. botw is an effective modern installment to this 30-year-old franchise because it takes what made the old games great and updates it in a way that still stays true to the core of the franchise.

I did mention totk in my opening paragraph and you mention it in your ask so i have to come back to it somehow. Do i think that totk did the gigantic-open-world thing as well as botw did? no. But i also don't really think there was any other direction to go with that game specifically. botw literally changed the landscape of game development when it was released. I KNOW you all remember how for a good year or two after botw's release, EVERY SINGLE GAME that came out HAD to have a massive open-world map, regardless of whether or not that actually made sense for that game. (pokemon is still suffering from the effects of that botw-driven open world craze to this day. rip scarlet/violet your gameplay was SUCH dogshit) I'm not sure to what degree nintendo and the botw devs anticipated that success, (I remember the open world and the versatility in terms of problem-solving being the two main advertising angles pre-release, but it's been 7 years. oh jesus christ it's been SEVEN YEARS. anyways) but in any case, there's basically NO WAY that they anticipated their specific gameplay style taking off to that degree. That's not something you can predict. When creating totk, they were once again walking that line between old and new, but because they were only 3ish years out from botw when totk went into development, they were REALLY under pressure to stay true to what it was that had made botw such an insane success. I think that's probably what led to the expanded map in the sky and depths as well as the fuse/build mechanics--they basically took their two big draws from botw, big map and versatility, and said ok BIGGER MAP and MORE VERSATILITY. Was this effective? yeah. do i think they maybe could have made a more engaging and well-rounded game if they'd been willing to diverge a little more from botw? also yeah. I won't say that I wanted totk to be skyward sword-style linear, because literally no one wanted that, but I do think that because of the insane wave of success that botw's huge open world brought in the developers were under pressure to stay very true to botw in their designing the gameplay of totk, and I think that both the gameplay and story might have been a bit more engaging if they had been allowed to experiment a little more in their delivery of the material.

#wow it's been a while since i've written a real homegrown organic legend of zelda essay. i missed this #hi everyone. when the fuck is the next game going into development i need to have something to wildly theorize about again #god. it's been. seven years since botw came out. im going to go chew on live electrical wires #zelda analysis #asks

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apolloskazoo · 1 year

Text

ELLIE & JOEL HEADCANONS

I am so incredibly obsessed and I have so many thoughts about these two so I present to you: 1k words of headcanons.

Ellie will fall asleep on Joel at random times like a cat so that he’s stuck in whatever uncomfortable position he’s in until she wakes up. Once she fell asleep on two feet while leaning against Joel, and he had to catch her before she fell.

Along with that, she also falls asleep in the weirdest places and positions. He’s almost tripped over her just…walking around the house because she’s sprawled out on the floor. He once found her in a cabinet after panicking and searching for half an hour trying to find her.

At night, however, she cannot sleep, and when she’s having a bad night and can’t fall asleep again they’ll do something to keep her mind off of nightmares. Joel will tell her a story, play the guitar for her, take her in a little midnight walk, cuddle with her, watch a movie with her, play some kind of board game with her, etc. etc.

When he has a nightmare he tries not to wake her, but sometimes he can’t help himself and has to open the door and check to make sure she’s still alive, even though it makes him feel guilty for interrupting her sleep. She’s always okay with it and takes her comforting job very seriously, and it normally ends in cuddles to 1) help Ellie fall asleep again and 2) help Joel with his whole nightmare thing.

They have like…father and daughter super senses. Like Ellie will fall off of a rock and scrape her hand halfway across Jackson and Joel will drop everything he’s doing and go to her even without knowing why, or Ellie will need to find Joel for something and will pick him out of a crowd immediately and it scares people.

They always tell each other where they’re going to be if they seperate. No exceptions. Even if it’s just down the road or a house or two away, they always know.

Holding hands. They do it all the time. When Ellie is having a Bad Day or having a Bad Moment, Joel will hold her hand to make her feel comforted if they’re out in public. When she’s wandering off and he wants her to stay close he just grabs onto that hand and keeps holding it. When she’s tired she’ll grab his hand and he’ll rub a finger over her knuckles, and she’ll lean her head on his shoulder and she’ll fall asleep. When they’re in the dining hall sitting down beside each other she’ll hold his hand under the table just because she can and because she wants attention, even when Joel is talking to Tommy and not her. She gets very fidgety and sometimes picks at her skin, and Joel will hold her hand to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself. Ellie can sense whenever Joel is anxious or panicking, and one day she notices he’s not doing too good and since he always holds her hand in public when she’s having a Bad Moment, she slips her hand into his to help him, and it actually works, so it becomes a thing she does for him to silently help him like he silently helps her.

Sometimes they communicate through puns, since they’re emotionally repressed and all. One time Ellie and Joel were exploring some kind of souvenir store and Ellie picked up a koala plushie and said, “I love spending koala-ty time with you.” Joel almost cries (the pun was a 2/10 at best, though).

They have so many inside jokes it’s crazy. Sometimes somebody will say something completely innocently and both of them will just burst into laughter. Nobody ever figures out why.

PLAY WRESTLING. Ellie one hundred percent is one of those kids that just jumps onto people and only knows horseplay, and Joel always shoves her back when she shoves him. He’s always careful not to hurt her and he never goes on top of her or anything that might seem like that to her, but she is not as careful. He once got a black eye from her accidentally kicking him in the face, and she still feels bad about it to this day.

Joel can recite dinosaur and space facts off the top of his head solely because Ellie talks about it so much and he listens to anything she has to say. Half of it doesn’t make sense to him, but he’s happy to listen. He’s also got all of her favorite puns memorized.

Ellie will mentally tuck away any weird little Texan sayings Joel absent-mindedly says so that she can find the right moment to say them herself. It’s always funny to see the confused look on people’s faces when she, a 14 year old girl from Boston, whips out the “it’s as hot as the hinges of hell out here!”

Ellie’s alarm is Joel waking up. When she actually gets sleep, she’ll sleep in until her mind subconsciously recognizes Joel’s footsteps and she wakes up, too. One time Joel was so exhausted he slept past his normal waking time and both of them slept in until midday. Tommy thought they were both dead and practically broke down the door trying to get in to see if they were rotting corpses.

Ellie eats like a feral wild animal and Joel gets so worried that she’s going to choke that he just starts cutting her food up for her before every meal. Ellie pretends to be annoyed by it but actually appreciates how it shows he cares.

Ellie doesn’t even care about being embarrassed about affection from Joel in public. In fact, she enjoys it, and she loves getting her forehead kisses and a “baby girl” from Joel in front of Tommy so he knows his place.

His personal space is her personal space. Honestly this is just canon. He’s always tripping over her feet when she walks beside him, she clings onto his shirt or hand whenever she can, if she’s taken more than five feet away from him against her will she will definitely go feral QZ child on everyone until she’s back beside him. He definitely panics whenever she’s not near him either, and once he almost tore down a building because he couldn’t find her immediately.

When they settled into Jackson at first, somebody definitely found out Ellie was an orphan and mentioned finding Ellie a “good family in Jackson for her,” clearly not realizing that Joel is indeed the father. Whoever it was definitely didn’t suggest it again after they both had their own reactions to it, none positive. Nobody tries to seperate them again.

The residents of Jackson 100% call Ellie “Ellie Miller” because they don’t know her real last name, and Ellie and Joel go with it. She’s referred to as “Joel’s daughter” and him “Ellie’s dad” all of the time, but they don’t correct them, because…it’s not technically a lie…and soon they start saying it about themselves to others, too. Joel refers to Ellie as “my daughter/kid” and Ellie refers to him as “my dad.” They lie and say it’s because it’s easier than explaining, but we all know the real truth.

Ellie gets so incredibly frustrated while learning the guitar and Joel is so incredibly patient, and though Ellie almost smashes the thing during her lessons, she becomes good at playing the guitar as she gets older and Joel is so proud. Also Ellie uses her new guitar skills to get bitches. (“Oh, you like music? Well, I can play a pretty gnarly twinkle twinkle little star on the guitar, if I do say so myself…”)

Joel brags about Ellie all the time. Like he’ll butt into conversations he’s not even in just to talk about her. “Oh, your son’s going out on his first hunting trip? Yeah, that’s good for him, my daughter took down a whole grown deer all by herself when she was just fourteen.” “Oh, your kid’s good at math? That’s nice, my kid can recite every space book in the library by memory.” He’s that annoying parent and I’m not afraid to admit it.

—

There are some more but Tumblr has a word limit apparently…so…if y’all want some more HCs just tell me & who knows I might post more

#you better believe I’m going to write every last one of these things into my fics #YOU BETTER BELIEVE #this fucked up kid and her fucked up dad have me in a chokehold #the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #ellie the last of us #ellie and joel #joel and ellie #joel miller #ellie williams #hbo the last of us #tlou #the last of us headcanons #headcanons

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gisele0127 · 1 year

Text

Misunderstanding • nagi x reader

notes: slight angst, fluffy ending, a little all over the place, 778 words

its’s currently 3 am and Nagi Seishiro is playing video games in the other room to your shared apartment. you don’t really mind him staying up so late as long as he gets enough rest (even when he gets a full 8 hours of sleep he’s always tired🙄). on this particular night nagi was being unusually loud, he’s usually very calm and collected while playing video games. you couldn’t sleep. you’re half asleep and so annoyed, you had to wake up early to go meet up your mother for breakfast. as you walk down the hallway to go tell nagi to shut up you overhear him say

“yea shes so god damn annoying. she won’t give me space and she’s too obsessed”

your heart drops. is nagi talking about you? are you really that annoying? are you too obsessed? your legs won’t move, you can’t walk into the room now. he’d think you’re too annoying anyways. you drag your feet back to your room silently crying. why are you crying? he can’t be talking about you right? deep down you were always afraid that you were too annoying and clingy for him. nagis so laid back and *not as affectionate* as you. it made you really insecure. you always knew that you loved him more than he loved you. did he still even love you? sure you guys have been dating for a few years, but has he fallen out of love? did he ever love you? your head started spiraling and you couldn’t stop crying until you heard footsteps. you wipe your tears really fast a pretend to be asleep, because you can’t deal with him right now. not when you’re a mess. nagi opens the door and plops right next to you. he takes a deep breath and says,

“ughhhhh. y/n, baby, love of my life, my future wife, i love you. so much. you’re so adorable when youre asleep.”

your heart skips a beat, but then you remember the nasty things he just said about you. a couple more tears fall knowing what he just said was meaningless and fake. he pulls you into where you’re the little spoon and he starts rubbing your tummy. tracing little patterns and writing i love you.

“babe you know how i told you that there’s a new athletic trainer for the team?”

he never told you anything about a new athletic trainer. must’ve been his other bitch.

“she’s so fucking annoying. she’s all over me and flirting with me. might just have to bring you to practice to show her who’s the love of my life”

…bye

did? um? did you misunderstand him? oh my god? right? you totally misunderstood him.

he rubs his head against you, hugging you tighter. you’re so tiny compared to him. he starts kissing you. he’s never this affectionate when you’re ‘awake’. you start to smile but then it quickly fades away when he asks,

“are you crying?”

your body stiffens, he caught you.

“no i’m asleep”

“why are you crying?”

you take a deep breath and finally you let loose,

“i heard you talking while you were playing video games. i thought you called me annoying but it was apparently your new athletic trainer that you actually did not tell me about? but anyways yea. got scared that you didn’t love me anymore or as much. it’s okay if you don’t, i already know how you are. i love you more anyways”

you take nagis hands off of you, not really wanting him to touch you. he’s silent for a couple of seconds, confused.

“what? oh. yea you heard that. i mean what i said i want you to come to practice tomorrow. and what are you talking about? i love you so much, i mean i may not show it as much as you but you know me. and um i kinda talk to you while you’re asleep. im sorry”

nagi may not be the best with words but you tell he really means it. you know that he will never really understand you being insecure, and sometimes it gets to you. but hey a least he’s trying.

you feel a little bit of relief now, but still uneasy. until nagi gets on top of you, pouting.

“did you doubt my love for you?”

oh god he really is a big baby.

before you can answer he closes the space between you.

“well it doesn’t really matter if you do or not because you’re stuck with me the rest of your life. i love you y/n, baby, love of my life, my future wife.”

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ratskinsuit · 8 months

Note

Romantic Velvette headcanon with a male autistic S/O if you can? (Can be either SFW or NSFW or both, but it’s up to you)

Velvette x Autistic Male!Reader

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A/N: Okay so I personally am not autistic, but I have a lot of friends who are. I tried to research to get more information so that I could make this accurate and not offend anyone. And huge thanks to @rdgart12345 for telling me a bit about autistic traits so I could better understand and write an autistic reader correctly! I hope that I didn’t offend anyone or spread misinformation. Otherwise please enjoy!

(Picture credits to GemSubArt on deviantart)

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Okay so when you two first started dating and you told her you were autistic she wouldent really know what it is

Once you explain it to her however she would start to understand

To better understand you she would do a bunch of research and ask a lot of questions

She would try to educate herself so much so that she can be a good partner to you (Plz I love her sm)

If you don’t like certain textures of food, or clothes or blankets she will try to find something else that you feel comfortable with

Like if you don’t like the feel of a certain food she will find something else for you to eat and won’t get mad

She just wants you to be comfortable eating and not get stressed out (she will try to memorize what textures your don’t like and will try to avoid them as best as she can)

If you tend to fidgit a lot or need something to keep you entertained she got you

If you ever ask her if she has anything you can do she has a bag full

Things like fidget toys, game recommendations for phones/iPads ect-, sketchbooks, coloring books, you name it

Will bring you to work with her if you don’t work or are just free and cuddle you in her lap if it’s just in her office (if your not okay with touching you two are just chilling together)

If you two are ever out at like a party or something and get overstimulated, or everything is just too loud and your overwhelmed she will notice (even if you don’t tell her)

Once she finds out she will take you somewhere quieter and give you things like noise cancelling headphones, or music to listen to, or fidgets from her bag

And if you want to be alone, I’m ngl she would be kind of hesitant to but would, or if you want her there she would just kind of cuddle you and stroke your hair

forhead kisses (not even just for autism it’s just her in general lol

will let you talk about your hyperfixations for hours

like if you wanna talk to someone about it just call her up and she will be like “You got it pretty boy, on my way now.”

she is very affectionate, like always holding your hand, hugging/kissing you, cuddles, you name it

if you are not very touchy she will try to not do it as much but it may be hard for her.

If anyone ever insults you she will fight them

Like if you don’t like loud sounds she will ask you to leave because she will SCREAM at them

Ms girl is very protective of you and loves you with all her heart, quirks and all

SHORT DRABBLE

———————————————————————

It’s a lazy Saturday, you and Velvette are sitting in the couch of her apartment just spending time together, cuddling and watching shows. She has recently been working a lot and so she’s been busy and you two haven’t been spending a lot of time together.

To make it up to you, she bought you a box of your favorite candy, a little goodie bag full of small trinkets of a thing your into(your choice on what it is), full of erasers, stickers, pencils, a little squishy and other stuff.

Your laying you head on her lap, she strokes your hair and listens as you rant about your recent obsession, listening intently with a smile on her face.

You look up at her for a moment, stopping talking. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You frown.

“What? Am I not allowed to smile at my boyfriend?” She teases, pinching your cheek, leaning back with a grin.

“Ow fuck that hurt!” You complain jokingly.

“Aw you want a kiss to make it feel better?” She says, kissing your cheek, pulling back with a satisfied grin.

You blush a bit and she laughs. “Not good enough.” You joke, poking her.

“Aw man! Hm.” She thinks. “Well to make it up to you, how about we go get some of your favorite food?” She asks, as you sit up.

“Oh yes please!” You smile, getting up from the couch.

She sits up, and grabs you hand, kissing it and walking with you out the door.

———————————————————————

A/N: First time writing an autistic reader and a male reader, I hope I did okay. Im sorry if the Drabble is not the best I had a hard time thinking of ideas.I hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#velvette headcanons #velvette drabble #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin #autistic reader #fluff #headcanons #hazbin headcanons #hazbin drabble #Velvette fluff #Velvette x male reader #Male reader #velvette x reader #requests open #request #hazbin hotel

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britcision · 8 months

Text

I dunno if I touched on this already but I am Obsessed so you’re stuck with it

Just

Idk the Adventurer’s Bible calls it “cruel” that Mithrun told Thistle that Delgal wanted him dead in the end, but… it just doesn’t read that way to me

No one questions that Laios and co didn’t want to start a fight and just wanted to talk, but I feel like Mithrun was coming from a pretty similar place

He gives every prospective dungeon lord a chance, speaks to them more readily than anyone else, and always offers them a chance to back down despite clearly believing they won’t take it

And I mean I can’t 1000% cite it so I might be wrong, but… I think it’s also the only time he openly empathizes? He’s more emotive, with more facial expressions, but I can’t really think of another time he openly talks about what other people want

He’ll drop all his own trauma without batting an eye, but with Thistle and then with Marcille he tries to work out what their motivations are, what they want to wish for, and use his own experiences to warn them it can’t work and they won’t actually get it

It’s kinda cursory, but much less than Lycion asking Laios to give up on Marcille; he’s seeking a connection to spare them his fate, and while seeing Thistle catatonic doesn’t noticeably phase him, he’s pretty disinterested in the dungeon lords when you compare it to his reaction to the winged lion

(Full feral, 30 seconds flat, not a word before it’s peanut butter murder time)

The dungeon lords are ostensibly natural enemies as much as the demon is, and all the other Canaries are pretty focused on eliminating the dungeon lord as the first priority, and I dunno if any of the rest would even bother asking them to stand down

Lycion sure as hell doesn’t bother trying to justify to Laios why he shouldn’t go side with Marcille; he just asks him to abandon his friend, no, entirely expected, and he’s pretty clearly just humouring Kabru

Officially, they have to kill the dungeon lord to get a shot at the demon, and with a direct shot Mithrun loses his shit

But either dungeon lord alone? He doesn’t even try to seriously hurt them until he’s made the offer, he gets them temporarily incapacitated at best and he’s perfectly happy to let Laios free Marcille if he thinks he has even a vague shot at it

And sure, it might all be calculated to throw them off their game, to find weaknesses and rattle them before the fighting starts, but then why would he agree to let Laios help her stop being a dungeon lord without a fight?

The other captains sure as hell aren’t buying in, but Mithrun signs off without question, and it also might be that he just doesn’t care about the dungeon lords; any way he can get to the demon works

But he could have killed Marcille instead of trying to restrain or search her

He’s a fucking madlad, the time he used tackling her and starting the pat down could have begin with cape-decapitation to solve the problem before it occurred

He could have sent the plank into Thistle’s chest, not his arm to make him drop the book - that’s even a bigger target

They’re the Canaries. They already heard Laios say he wanted to be the dungeon lord. If they’d tpk’d the entire party there, it’d have been their job description, and we only got a dramatic final showdown because he gave Marcille a chance to just hand the books over… or let him take them

(Bet Pattadol and Lycion regretted pulling him off her, optics be damned, for at least a couple hours there)

Idk I just think it’s interesting that despite being the character with no wants or opinions on most things… he really does try to save the dungeon lords, and his squad follow his lead until they can’t even in his absence

(Talking to Laios and Chilchuck even after he’s fucked off, giving Laios even a cursory chance to quit)

It just… doesn’t add up that he told Thistle what Delgal wanted to be cruel, not on top of everything else

It wasn’t fucking tactful, but it was true, and if Thistle had believed him and realized that what he was doing was pointless…

That woulda been the fight. Wrap on Dungeon Lord Thistle, just a hop down for the other book, the status quo is mostly intact but the Island is saved

I don’t think it’s necessarily cruel to not want to kill someone

(But then the Golden Country woulda had to deal with King Mithrun Who 10000% Is Leaving To Find Another Demon Murder Opportunity, so like it was never an option narratively… which makes it all the more interesting that he tried)

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #dunmeshi #dunmeshi spoilers #mithrun #mithrun dungeon meshi #listen i just have so many thoughts about him #and tbh am the person who usually asks ‘why didn’t they just try x’#ao this may also be why i am feral for his ass #cuz he DID try x and it didn’t work and we move on #but he fucking tried

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pensat-i-fet · 1 year

Text

Do you want to play a game? (Pedri x Reader)

**Hi! I got another Pedri request. I don't normally need warnings but I thought I would let you know there are a few quick mentions of anxiety. It's not much but if that is something you don't feel ok reading for whatever reason, you can skip this one 😊 Also, I read the title in the Ghostface voice because of Scream 5. You might want to try it. Anyways, enjoy! ❤️**

Word count: 2086

Masterlist

Wattpad

"You are coming to the match tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, hello Ansu. How are you? Me? Oh, I'm fine. Thanks for asking".

"Are you coming or not? I need to sort out the invitations".

"I am", you said, rolling your eyes. You liked football but not that much. But Ansu was obsessed with you attending all the home matches lately and meeting his teammates.

And the reason for that was he knew one of his best friends in the team, Pedri, had been crushing on you for a while. He wouldn't admit it at first but…well, it really was that obvious.

"She'll be at the match".

"Who?"

"Come on, Pedri. You know who. And I'll convince her to come to your place after the match".

It was Pedri's turn to host a little gathering with some of the boys after the match and Ansu was trying to think of ways to leave you two alone at some point.

He knew you liked Pedri too, even if you had denied it. But he knew you well and also would never push you to be with a guy you didn't at least find attractive.

What Ansu didn't tell any of you was that your ticket was for the seat next to Pedri's. He still couldn't play because of his injury, so he had to watch the match from the stands.

"Hi. There must be a mistake. Don't you have to sit with the other injured players? Why am I here?"

Pedri had an idea why. "I didn't want to be there today. Too many cameras and all that".

"Right. Well…".

“I could find you another seat or…”.

“No, it’s fine”, you said, trying not to blush at the prospect of spending two hours sitting down next to him. "I'm ok sitting here with you".

But the match went by pretty quickly. How could it not when your best friend scored two early goals that had you jumping from your seat? And that also meant you and Pedri found an easy first topic to talk about. You always felt weird when Ansu left you alone with his teammates. The only one you’ve known for a while was Eric. What were you supposed to chat about with the rest?

“See you in a bit”, said Pedri when you were leaving after the match.

“You will?”

“Aren’t you coming to my place? We’ll be meeting there and Ansu said you’ll join us like you have the last few times”.

“Right. Sure! See you there”.

You made your way to the car, wondering why Ansu kept making plans for you without telling you first. And you were also mentally checking if you had the time to run back home and get changed.

“Hi!”, you beamed when Ansu got to the car and hugged him to congratulate him on his great performance.

“Ready to go?”

“Can we stop by my place for a sec?”

“Why? We’ll be late. Even more than we already are”.

“I need to change my outfit”.

He raised his eyebrow, looking at the clothes you were wearing. “You look fine. We’ll just be home watching some movies or whatever, no need to dress up”.

“But I don’t look good”.

“Who do you want to look good for?”

“Start driving before I hit you. And stop smirking. I’m feeling insecure and you’re being mean”.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Pedri can reassure you and tell you how pretty you look”.

“I hate you”.

The weather forecast was bad. A lot of areas in the eastern side of Spain had been surprised by big storms and now it seemed it was time for Barcelona to join the party.

Thankfully for you, you made it to Pedri’s right when the storm started to get worse. Driving in those conditions always felt pretty scary.

“You made it!”, exclaimed Eric, opening the door for you so you could get inside quickly.

“Barely”, you said, sighing.

Everyone else was already there and you joined them right when they were choosing a movie to watch.

“It’s spooky outside”, said Gavi, “how about a horror movie?”

Both Ansu and Eric looked at you, the horror movie expert. “What?”

“You know those movies. Choose one!”

“I…ehhh…”, you didn’t enjoy seeing everyone stare at you. “Bodies bodies bodies?”

“Huh?”

“The movie. It’s about all these friends in a mansion hiding from a storm and they play a game and…well, it’s a horror movie. It obviously doesn’t end well”.

“Ok”, they all said and went to the big tv to find the movie.

After excusing yourself to go to the bathroom before the movie started, as if missing 5 seconds of a movie you’ve watched ten times was a huge drama, you got back to the living room and tried to find a place to sit.

There was only one spot available, right in between Ansu and Pedri. Your friend looked up at you and you moved your head to motion for him to move near his teammate but he shook his head.

“You little shit”, you whispered but it only made him smile more.

“So you’re a horror movie fan?”, said Pedri and you turned to look at him.

“Yeah”.

“I’m not the biggest fan myself. I get scared too easily”.

You laughed before Ansu had to ruin it. “You can hold her hand if you get too scared. She’ll protect you from the monsters”.

"Ignore him", said Pedri, making you blush even more.

The movie started and you relaxed, watching the already familiar story for you and waiting for everyone's reactions to the jumpscares and plot twists.

"I cannot believe that happened", told you Pedri when the movie finished.

"I know", you said, laughing. "I was so shocked the first time I watched it. I didn't see it coming at all".

“Do you want to play a game?”, asked Eric, and you all looked at him, confused. "We should play a game too. To pass the time. There's no way we can drive home in this weather", said Eric when he got up to turn the lights on.

"Not the game from the movie, right?"

"No, something more…simple?", he shrugged. "Hide and seek?"

"Eric, haven't you seen Ready or not?"

He rolled his eyes at your comment. "No one got married today. We'll be fine".

"What?", Gavi's confused face made you laugh.

"We'll watch that movie another day. You'll get it then".

So hide and seek it was. At least it was a big house so the game could be fun.

After a couple of rounds, you were trying to study the house well to find the perfect hiding spot. You always took games way too seriously.

"I have an idea", whispered Ansu when he found Pedri.

"What do you mean?"

"What is a place here where no one will find you?"

"I'm not telling you".

"Pedri, forget about the game. I just want to help you spend some alone time with a certain someone".

"Stop it. You are making her uncomfortable and she'll push me away because of you", Pedri was shaking his head but the idea wasn't so bad.

So even though he left Ansu there, hiding, he quickly thought of all the places where he could take you. Just so you could win the game, of course.

"Hey".

You jumped hearing his whisper and he laughed. "You're going to get us caught".

"Follow me. I know a place where we can hide".

Why was he helping you? But this was his house, so if anyone knew where to hide, it'd be him.

Both of you walked slowly, trying not to make any noise. And then you were alone in a room.

"Is this your room?"

"What? No. This is not a trick to get you in my room…".

"Ok".

"It’s the guest room. And there is a small room that we used to use for storage. Not even my brother will think of looking there".

"Smart", you said, following him inside.

The room was…small. But big enough to keep some distance between you two. A small lamp provided a bit of light, which you appreciated. You had to leave your phones in the living room so you couldn't use the torch.

"What if they never find us here?"

Pedri's laugh was interrupted by another lighting.

"One, two, three …".

"Do you do that thing to guess how far away the lightning is?"

"It used to calm me down as a kid. Storms can be scary for children. I'm tough now".

With the sound of the thunderstorm as background noise for your conversation, you kept making small talk and waiting to be found. But the hiding spot was really that good.

"So you want to study…", the thunder that interrupted Pedri was so loud, it made you both jump. "Jesus!"

And then, the electricity went out, which meant the little room was completely dark. You felt your whole body tense.

"It'll come back in a second, I'm sure".

But you weren't listening. You couldn't listen to anything in your state.

"Hey, you ok?"

Pedri was trying to look at you in the darkness but couldn't see much.

"I'm afraid of the dark", you managed to say. And he laughed.

That sound made you feel even more anxious. How could he laugh when you were feeling so scared?

"You watch all those horror movies but are scared of the dark? That's hilarious".

He expected to hear you laugh back but that never happened. And he quickly realised how stupid he had been.

"Are you really scared? I'm an idiot. Sorry!"

He got up to open the door. The guest room didn't have any light either but some light could come through the window. He just needed to go there and open the curtains.

"Don't leave", you whispered.

"I just need to open the curtains and…".

Another thunder scared you so much that you let out a little whimper. Pedri needed to think and he needed to do it fast.

"I'll stay here with you, ok? The electricity will be back in a second and we'll be fine".

He sat down next to you and put his arm around your shoulders. During the movie, he had imagined himself doing that classic move but…too many people around. Now it didn't feel romantic at all. He could tell how terrified you were by how stiff your body was, so he moved you towards him to try and give you some comfort.

"So it has to be me holding your hand so you aren't scared after all".

You closed your eyes, placing your head on his shoulder and trying to control your breathing.

"That was a joke, by the way. I'm sorry I laughed before. I didn't think your fear was so serious".

"I know".

Your voice was still weak but Pedri thought it was a good sign you could talk.

When the next lightning came, you didn't jump at the sudden light.

"One, two, three, four, five, six…how many kilometres was that?"

"Two", you said, a small smile on your face.

"You're better than me at math. How many seconds does it have to be so we can pretend it comes from my hometown?"

"I don't think that's how the distance thing works".

"I said pretend…and I'm rolling my eyes, by the way. I say it because you can't see me".

The smile was substituted by a giggle.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you".

"Do you want to move now? The rest of the room is bigger and if we open the curtains, we can get some light inside the room", he offered. But you still didn't feel strong enough.

"Not yet. I'm fine like this".

Your words were followed by your moving closer to cuddle him better.

"You know? I'm not sure it wasn't Ansu who planned all this so we could finally be alone like this".

Your laugh was now louder. "Was it him that caused this storm too?"

"Have you heard his singing? We can't completely rule out it was his fault".

The noise of footsteps reminded you two you weren't alone in the house. And it was Eric, torch in hand, that found you.

"Oh God, you are here. I was so worried about you and your fear of the dark. Are you ok?"

"I think she's more than fine", said Ansu when he got to the room and saw you and Pedri. "And four is a crowd. Let's go somewhere else, Eric. Leave the lovebirds alone".

#pedri #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri fluff #footballer imagine #pedri x y/n #footballer x y/n #footballer one shot #footballer fluff

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blauequuleus · 7 months

Text

Okay so I’ve never played any Kingdom Hearts games and I’ve only watched the first 2 hours of a play through of the first game.

I’m gonna list everything I know through just internet osmosis. So tell me how off the mark I am on some of this (If I spell names wrong I’m sorry and be nice please)

Sora, Riku, and Kari(?), have all grown up together and play on this island with no parents in sight or a house or anything but island kids running around (do they have parents and houses to go home to? Or is this just Peter Pan style island of lost kids)

They want to leave the island and go on an adventure together

Kari just kinda showed up one day

Sora has a crush on Kari but has not a lot of interactions with her but is constantly talking about Riku and chasing after him

Kari I’m sorry sweetie as far as I can tell you’re the old trope of “this is girl character who is girl and main love interest that will spend 99% of the plot damsel’d and doing nothing -probably knocked out- and the last 1% she spends reassuring the main male lead in some way and has no personality outside of that” (this could be radically different in the games and she actually has a personality that doesn’t revolve around the main lead Sora needing to rescue her but all of the scenes I’ve seen from the games she’s either just standing there or is knocked out)

Riku and Sora have so mush chemistry people are convinced they are in love (to be fair every thing I’ve seen from the games has them constantly obsessing over each other more so than anyone else. Half their lines seem to be each others names. So yeah big rainbow energy coming off of them)

Also don’t they like combine swords or something into a big weapon… 👀🏳️‍🌈

Isn’t there matching wedding rings for Sora and Rikus swords cause if so that’s cute

Main game plot point is Sora, Goofy and Donald jumping around in a Gummy Ship?? to all the different Disney properties and movies and these are all treated like different worlds (is Star Wars in there now cause that’s a galaxy in and of itself, how does that work????)

Donald was dunked on for years as a terrible healer until he nuked a guy and the internet went insane over it

Micky Mouse is a king

Idk where the fuck Minnie is or Daisy

This is all connected to Final Fantasy games somehow. Cloud and Sephiroth(??) are connected to this (I have not played the Final Fantasy games either so idk what this means. I know it’s the same developers but haven’t they been in the KH games??)

The Halloween Town designs are cool looking

Sora gets a wardrobe change per world (species change for little mermaid?? And maybe others??)

Why his shoes too big lookin for his feet

Heartless are little shadow guys that are made from people having their heart/soul ripped out

There’s basically an apocalypse on every world cause of these heartless little creatures (but only main characters seem to notice them??? Everyone else going about their day which is a mood)

The Pirates of the Caribbean one is hyper realistic but Sora still looks like anime guy which is weird

Maleficent is keeps being a boss bitch but still dies for it

Doors and keys are super important

Sora and Riku have heartless but theirs get people forms but they don’t look like who they come from that shit is reversed for some reason

There’s like 3-4 just for Sora and none of them look like him

Riku got a stalker in some guy named Xnort(???how spell???) who possesses Riku at some point

This Xnort little old ass seems to have a habit of this possession thing and uses time travel?? to just keep possessing people

Eyes turn yellow when he does

He started a war for a specific heart??

Keyblade War (no idea what this is or means I just know it’s a thing)

There’s another trio that timeline wise came before the OG trio from the first game that was in the war

Xnort got the buff guy one, the other guy is in Sora but not?? turned into sparkles and possessed Sora but also didn’t, and the blue haired girl is out here working the hardest but she on a deserted island in the void

Micky also ends up chilling with her there at some point

Woody roasts a guy

How the fuck does the Toy Story world work if there’s people and sentient toys???? Why does Sora become a toy there if he a people

Sora wasn’t supposed to wield the keyblade Riku was but his dumbass got corrupted so Sora got it (?)

Riku got another one

I think everyone has kinda died at some point but they all got better

Sora got trapped in dream world by blonde Kari that drew pictures about it

Blonde Kari isn’t evil she was just chilling with a comatose Sora

Riku went through a lot to get his boyfriend back

There’s an organization that’s connected to Xnort guy that wears black robes

There is another set of Riku, Sora and Kari copies there

The third Kari black haired goes out Master Oogway style but with glitter

There’s a red haired guy there that talks big shit but is constantly getting his ass kicked

There are so many spin-off games that have a lot of lore in them and the titles only make sense to people deep in the fandom trenches and lore

Those titles got fractions and shit in them

The Disney princesses played a major role at some point but idk if that’s still a thing

Those stain glass window levels are gorgeous

Sora is a people pleaser who dies for it

But unlike everyone else getting better from it, as he also has in the past, Sora is now gone gone but also not and next game may be in basically purgatory which is kinda our world (so many jokes there)

Riku gonna be on quest 2 of save his boyfriend and is sad now cause of it

Poor Riku he went through his emo phase in the first game and now his punishment for it is running after and saving a serial self sacrificing people pleaser that can’t say no and who keeps dieing from it

Let me know if I was close at all to being right about some things and what I got wrong.

#kingdom hearts #kh #idk this isn’t in any order just what I could recall #I’ve mostly just seen fanart of the games

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